Mila 18 - Leon Uris [202]
“Is he alive?”
Andrei slapped him again and again.
Wolf groaned convulsively and sucked at the air. He blinked his eyes, shrank away from the light.
At the same time Simon worked on Chris.
Wolf came to enough to look up at his comrades and smile at the sight of them.
“Listen, Wolf. Stay here with Chris. Massage yourself and keep massaging him. There are holes all over the roof, so this one won’t draw further attention.”
“Where are you going?”
“Up to take a look. They’ve stopped patrolling the roof, but they’re still in the streets. Stay here until we come back for you with ropes.”
Andrei crawled up, with Simon close behind him. When the roof flattened, they inched to the edge to get the best possible look down on Mila Street.
Andrei’s fists tightened around the Schmeisser, enraged at what met his eyes. A double cordon of bayonet-wielding SS Reinhard Corps men formed a corridor and circle around people straggling out of the building, flushed from the bunker. He saw Rabbi Solomon thrown to the ground. Alex knelt over to help him up. Sylvia Brandel held the child, and Tolek and Ana and Ervin stood by Deborah, keeping the children calm.
Kutler barked orders, clapping his hands in delight that the search was over.
“Schnell!”
“Move quickly, Jews!”
Andrei backed away slowly. “Come on, Simon,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?”
“You’ll destroy us all,” Simon snapped. He stood up quickly and blocked Andrei’s path.
“Let me pass,” Andrei hissed.
“You’re a damned fool,” Simon said, grabbing his shirt.
Andrei’s fist smashed into Simon Eden’s mouth. The big man went flat on his back. Before Andrei could make a step, he found himself looking into the muzzle of Simon’s Luger leveled at his heart.
They glared, neither daring to move.
“Jews ... move out!”
Simon’s face went slack. His pistol hand dropped. “I’m coming with you,” he said.
The two men moved swiftly over the rooftops to Mila 5. The stairs were clear. They ran down, jumping half a flight at a time, and stopped in the courtyard.
“It’s clear.”
They sprinted through the courtyard, down into the basement of Mila 1, and into a tunnel that came up on the edge of Muranowski Place. A fast straight run down Niska Street brought them to the intersection ahead of the slower-moving cordon.
Andrei flattened his back against the corner house, gasping for air, his legs wobbly. He looked around the corner. Kutler strutted, laughing and jovial, with a dozen SS men in the lead of the quarry, SS men on either sidewalk, and Nightingales in the rear.
Andrei beckoned Simon to get close to him. “Kutler and some SS men are in front of our people—about ten yards. Let them get past us. We’ll hit them from behind.”
“How many guards?”
“Hundred.”
He shoved a clip of ammunition into the Schmeisser and threw the bolt. Simon unclicked the safety lock on his pistol.
Step by step, as in a funeral procession, the bagged game of Mila 19 walked for the Stawki Gate to the Umschlagplatz. Alexander Brandel stood tall and brave despite the ordeal in the bunker. He walked like a patriarch toward Calvary, and those behind him found courage in his presence.
A dozen black uniforms passed the corner of Niska Street.
Rat-a-tat-tat-a-tat!
A flame erupted from the end of Andrei’s machine pistol. Kutler pitched forward on his face, the back of his head shot away. Four of his cohorts tumbled around him.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Wham! Simon Eden’s pistol crackled with deadly accuracy. Wham! Wham! Wham! Shrieks, Germans toppled to the ground.
Andrei stepped into the intersection and blasted at the row of flanking guards.
A wild melee. The Nazis broke and scattered.
“Run, you sons of bitches! Run! Run! Run!”
Rat-a-tat!