The Sleeping Army Awakes

Part 30 Explosives and Parachutes

Unlike Sir Percy's high profile landing on prohibited ground, Ruthers' operative Count Mikula 'the Neck' parachuted down virtually unnoticed to the target site that Ruthers had stipulated. The spot was high up on Kopce Milosti, well above where Sir Percy's helicopter was sitting but still below the peak. The objective was the stone wall of the reservoir. Count Mikula had sent down a parachute with netting, containing all the explosives and drilling gear, followed by his apprentice Basil, before jumping himself.

The pilot Zdenek was no fool. He knew that there would be Skidges about patrolling the area. He banked the Cessna 308D Grand Caravan that they had jumped from sharply, to turn back the way that it had come and throttled to maximum to reach its cruising speed of three hundred and forty kilometres per hour.

Zdenek wanted to get as far away from the accursed Kopce Milosti naval land as possible. He pulled back on the joystick and climbed steeply to seek cloud cover out of range of the Skidges. He hadn't even waited to see whether his passengers had landed safely on target and frankly he didn't care. Count Mikula was an unpleasant man and had spent the whole flight complaining and bullying Basil. The plane continued climbing until it reached its ceiling, of seven thousand metres, and there was an explosion towards the rear of the plane from the altitude sensitive bomb that the count had planted. The blast severed the tailplane from the body of the craft sending it spinning back towards the ground.

Count Mikula smiled at the sound. He hated leaving witnesses. Count Mikula also hated people using the handle "the Neck" to describe him but it was obligatory for assassins to have a handle. He preferred to be referred to simply as 'Count'.

His calling card said "You can counting on the count!" No-one had had the courage to correct his English.

Nobody living could say for sure, how Count Mikula had acquired this particular handle but it was probably because his usual method of dispatching anyone who got in his way was by snapping their necks. Anyone who had known how he had got the nickname hadn't survived for long. If anyone found out, then the Count would find them and would put an end to all their troubles, usually by rotating their necks beyond the point where the nerves had a chance of connecting, and he did this soundlessly quickly and efficiently.

Sometimes the Count felt that he was doing mankind a great service by ending someone's life. He wasn't always sure whether the target really knew anything at all, but then what the heck, better to be safe than sorry. So none lived to tell the tale, the count had made sure of that. He was most meticulous in that respect.

Count Mikula had always been slightly embarrassed by the similarity of his name with Count Dracula's, given that the vampire's speciality was a rather personally administered, but limited neck surgery. It seemed an odd nickname for an explosives expert, even if he was also an assassin. Also it was unusual these days for anyone to wear a cape but he just liked it.

Put it this way, it was a bad idea to smile at the count in a knowing manner. He always found a way to wipe the smile off faces whether they were in a bar, or a café or indeed a railway station. The next thing the ex-smiler knew was nothing at all or perhaps their maker.

Basil was less pleased about the plane's destruction than the count.

"My sandwiches were in that plane!" Basil complained to nobody in particular as he floated down towards the ground. Luckily for him the Count was too far away to hear the comment.

The explosives landed and a few seconds later Basil landed a lot less less elegantly and seemed totally unable to coordinate himself sufficiently, to do more than tangle the chords, in an attempt to gather in his chute in the soft breeze.

"Stupit boy what are you doingk?" The Count snapped as he landed. "Haff you been dringkink?"

"Sorry Count." Basil snivelled, "Just trying to get the chute wrapped up sir."

The Count landed easily and began efficiently collecting the chute in before the slight wind could drag him anywhere.

"Gott verdammt. If you doingk like zhat you will never untankle zhat zhe chute you dummkopf." The Count said irritably. "Leef it I vill see to it. Get zhe mep out and take zhe drill to zhe first location unpeck it and get it ready for drillink! Mein Gott in Himmel."

"Where's the first drill hole?" Basil whined peering at the map with incomprehension.

"Over zhere it iss marked on zhe map you stupit boy!" The Count shouted. Basil chose the wrong moment to smile at the Count but for now he was in luck because he was out of range of the neck snapping count.

"Vhy are you smilingk for?" The count asked suspiciously.

"I don't know how to read maps!" A red faced Basil admitted.

"Gott in Himmel!" The count shouted in exasperation. "Cannot you doingk anyzhingk on you own?"

"But I parachuted down here OK!" Basil whined.

"I zhingkingk zhat is razher a shame!" The count commented. "Now get zhat drill and start drillingk before I turningk you into volf fodder."

Basil shuddered and untangled the drilling gear from the netting. He made his mind up that he would escape the count at the first opportunity for the sake of his continued existence. He had seen the count in this sort of mood before. The last time that this had happened, ultimately three people shuffled off this mortal coil, looking backwards, with a startled look on their faces because their necks had been snapped back in that direction.