Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [51]
‘I’ll tell you over lunch.’
Wolff called for her.
Kitzel put down the magazine she was reading, and hurried over to the door as it opened. Wolff strode out of the room, wiping his hands on a towel.
‘Attend to the prisoner, please, Nurse Kitzel, she seems to have broken her hand. I will be back shortly.’
Kitzel stepped warily into the cell. The room smelt of sweat and urine. Fraulein Summerfield sat crying. Her wrists and ankles were still secured to the chair with adhesive tape.
Her right hand was limp. Kitzel examined it, wincing as she saw the swelling.
‘D-Do you think this is fair?’ the prisoner asked weakly.
There was no sign of her earlier defiance.
No, thought Kitzel. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘You think that I deserve this?’ The prisoner managed to sound astonished.
No one deserves to be treated like this. ‘Yes, I do.
Please keep still.’
She began to strap a splint around the prisoner’s hand. It must have hurt, but the prisoner did not acknowledge the fact. The prisoner tried to cough, but her throat was too dry.
‘You’re an evil little bitch,’ Summerfield finally managed.
‘I’m a nurse, you’re a murderess. Work out from that who’s evil.’ Kitzel wrapped a bandage firmly around the wounded hand.
‘Look at me!’ For the first time, Kitzel looked into the prisoner’s face. Her right eye was black and swollen, there was a nasty cut on her forehead. Wolff had not given permission to treat these injuries. Kitzel looked away.
‘There is no permanent damage,’ Kitzel said, attempting to sound reassuring. ‘I am done here.’
‘Please don’t go,’ pleaded the prisoner, attempting to grab Kitzel’s arm with her good hand. It was easy to brush her aside. It was even easier to leave the cell.
The Mercedes came to a halt outside the gates, and the driver turned off the engine. Two of the Germans manning the sentry post came forward. One meticulously checked the car, including underneath the chassis and inside the boot.
The second checked the driver and the Doctor himself. He scrutinized the driver’s identity papers, and already had a photograph of the Doctor attached to his clipboard, which he carefully compared to the man in the back seat.
‘You may get out,’ he barked finally.
The Doctor said his farewells to the driver and stepped from the car. The first guard had finished his scrutiny of the limousine, now he performed a quick body search on the Doctor. His pockets had been virtually emptied at Granville, although the guard managed to discover an apple core that had infiltrated the Doctor’s jacket since then. The guard tossed it away, then nodded to his counterpart.
‘Thank you, driver.’ The engine roared into life again, the car executed a three-point turn and then sped off back to Granville. The Doctor glanced at the ground, trying to look casual. There were vehicle tracks in the mud leading into the base: motorbikes mostly, one or two cars. Nothing heavier had gone into the base, as far as he could see. A couple of armoured personnel carriers had arrived here, but the troops had been dropped off at the gate, as he had been.
‘Open the gate.’ A couple of guards scurried forward from just inside the perimeter and pulled the heavy gates back.
‘Do I not get chauffeured in?’ the Doctor asked cheekily.
The guard ignored him. A young Leutnant was waiting for the Doctor inside the gate. He was about twentyfive, with cropped black hair. The officer saluted him. The Doctor didn’t return the compliment.
‘Herr Doktor, I am Leutnant Keller. Will you follow me, please?’ Behind them, the gates were already being pulled shut.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Just to the end of this track.’
The Doctor peered into the distance. The dirt track carried on for two hundred yards or so, before curving around a hillock. Their destination was obscured by this, and by a cluster of pine trees in the middle distance. It was just possible to hear running water down there. A herd of cows stood rigidly thirty feet from them.
‘This does not look like a military installation.’
‘No.’ Keller chuckled conspiratorially. They