CHAPTER EIGHT
The optimistic, radical and downright haphazard plan had begun. With his movements masked by the noise of the machines, using his best covert skills, and directed rather sheepishly by Specks who was doing little more than point a shaky finger, Billy had got to work. Like a ghost he snuck himself along the entire length of the walkway, down the staircase, jumping over the side railings as he neared the bottom. Landing without a sound, he headed over to the right of the room, grabbing one of the spools of copper wiring, hurriedly taking it back up to Specks. Together they crept out of the basement and planted themselves upstairs in the hallway. As instructed, Billy unraveled the thick copper wiring into two large hoops. And now he waited, sitting with his metal arm stretched out, the little scientist repeatedly coiling the wire around it, keeping it very tight, very precise, all the while muttering impossible calculations under his breath.
Yet whilst the unlikely duo concentrated on their precarious experiment, intrigued eyes watched with great curiosity. High above the pair, a gothic painting hung - a gorgeous golden framed picture of an eerie old man sitting in a wooden chair, doing nothing out of the ordinary. But there was something very wrong with his eyes - they were real. Sure enough, a single eye, not belonging to the painting, watched the pair working on the floor below, eagerly studying their actions. A shutter closed, replacing the watching eye with the painting’s rightful set.
Unknown to everyone else in the mansion, hidden behind the painting, was a small dark room that was most likely one of several secret quarters the building had to offer. The One Eyed Man who had earlier taken a rather good shot at Specks, moved away from his view point and stood to attention. Next to him, in another luxurious red leather chair, sat the fiend with the cane. He patiently dwelled in the shadows, his grey eyes cutting through the darkness, scrutinizing the top of his cane.
‘Do you wish me to dispose of them, Master?’ asked the One Eyed Man in a heavy German accent.
‘Unnecessary,’ he replied, indifferent to the suggestion.
‘But Master, they wish to disable your project.’
‘I know very well what they intend to do. But everything has its time. The project has served me well, and found me a few colourful delights to hold over our old friend, Charlie. They will prove most useful indeed.’ He smiled a creepy lipless grin.
‘But Master…’
‘But nothing,’ he snapped. ‘It would be prudent to remember your place, soldier. Besides, this project, this house and these people are all expendable.’ The shadowed figure took a long drawn-out breath, taking his own good time with his words. ‘I am interested to see if our two English boys downstairs succeed with their little experiment. It’s deadly. It’s risky. And perhaps it may actually be quite exciting. Something the Germans sometimes lack!’ He spoke as if he was bored of life itself. ‘If he dies, he dies. But if he survives, then my minor intrigue in the boy will be rapidly elevated to fascination.’ In a cavalier manner the villain stepped up from his chair and headed towards a door. The One Eyed Man promptly opened it for him. ‘Let’s go and watch the rest of the show, shall we?’
It had taken him far longer than he had anticipated, but finally Specks had finished his work. He perused the end result, moving his glasses to and fro from his eyes, to better magnify his labour. He gently turned the arm from left to right, ensuring a good view from all angles. In the meantime however, Billy’s patience was rapidly depleting.
‘Is it done?’ he asked, a little short-tempered.
‘Some of the coiling is sparse in areas. And the wiring itself has corroded in places. Perhaps with more time I could…’
‘Yeah, forgetting all that boring science stuff, is it ready?’
‘Yes, it’s ready,’ replied Specks. ‘But I feel I should warn you again…’
‘Don’t bother,’ interrupted Billy, grateful to pull his arm away from the little man. ‘I’m well aware of the risks.’ The pair struggled to their feet, both still looking the worse for wear. Billy picked up the unused loop of copper and carefully placed it over Specks head, looking like a ridiculously oversized necklace, and causing the geek to wobble from the weight. Smirking to himself, Billy picked up the remaining loop which led to the experiment currently wrapped around his metal arm, and swung it over his shoulder. ‘Well, I guess this is where we go our separate ways.’
‘Correct. Now you remember exactly what you have to do?’
‘It’s not rocket science, Specks!’
‘I don’t see what combustion engines have to do with anything,’ he mumbled in a confused response.
‘Well…’ said Billy, trying his best to think of something uplifting to say. But nothing came, so he simply held out his gloved hand.
Specks was clearly uncomfortable with the gesture, and looked around awkwardly, pushing his glasses back up his nose, then reaffirming his grip on the coil resting around his shoulders. Eventually he held out a limp hand and Billy shook it vigorously. And with nothing left to say to each other, the two soldiers went their separate ways, Billy up the staircase towards the grandfather clock, and Specks downstairs, back towards the basement, both unraveling their coils as they moved.
Specks re-entered the basement, immediately ducking down to his hiding spot. He was completely out of his comfort zone, the stress was causing him to sweat profusely, and his movements were jerky. He checked over the barrier multiple times in quick succession. The broken images showed him one of the scientists injecting some kind of serum into Charlie’s arm. Specks waited for a moment, doing nothing but stare off into the distance with wide eyes, breathing a little too hastily - he was scared. But in due course he gathered himself together and made his move.
Staying as low as possible, he crept around the walkway, unraveling the copper wiring and wrapping it around the railings repeatedly, before arriving at the top of the metal staircase. Being small, light on his feet, and the room being advantageously noisy, Specks’ presence had thus far gone unnoticed. Step by step, he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, coiling the copper around the hand rail every few steps, until reaching the bottom. Landing quietly on the metal platform he suddenly found himself shaking uncontrollably with nerves. But he had no time to spare. Perhaps it was a mistaken nerve-racked fall, or an intentional hop, but Specks dropped off the side of the platform, landing on the dirt below. Instantly he fell on his belly, and began to crawl his way underneath the metal floor, dragging himself along as best he could, wincing as his fragile wound was tormented by the movement. He reached the centre of the room, resting directly beneath the underbelly of the cylindrical drum. Specks pulled the coil off his person and rolled onto his back, catching his breath for a moment. Immediately above him was the bottom of the power source to the experiment, a black metal structure ridged with metal plates, and thankfully, as Specks had theorised, was bolted directly to the metal platform. Specks smiled to himself - his idea might just work.
Meanwhile, Billy made his way up the staircases, unraveling the copper wire behind him, though far more erratically than his comrade downstairs. He moved with haste, taking three steps at a time.
‘Great idea, Billy,’ he grumbled to himself. ‘Here, use my arm. Use my arm? Use my flipping arm?’ He was shouting sarcastically like a crazed man, his annoyance with himself obvious. ‘No, I don’t mind getting electrocuted, honest. Why not add a gun and a round of bullets, just to make sure? I must be insane. Bloody idiot!’
After a series of indistinguishable staircases, Billy came to a dead end, with nothing but a single door to offer. He opened it, finding himself in the attic. It was huge, littered with discarded paintings, ornaments, and antiques of unknown value. The storm was drastically louder up here, and as a result parts of the roof were tearing away. Billy moved along the wooden floorboards, dodging the occasional missing slat, heading towards a light at the very end of the eaves - yet another staircase. On reaching it he looked upwards and could see the stairs led into a crooked tower. Whatever it was for, i
t was open to the elements, with sparse panels on all sides, the structure fragile and old, swaying around from the onslaught of winds. Billy was tired and out of breath as he made his way up the warped staircase, feeling the wind and the rain and the cold hitting him with every step. Soon he reached the top, pushing his way through a stiff hatch, arriving at the very top of the tower. It was little more than a flat platform, with four posts holding up a small roof above his head. Instantly Billy felt the weather push him around like he was a ragdoll. He dropped to his knees and clung onto one of the posts, looking out at the tempest. The weather was truly incredible - grey skies covered in thick cloud stretched in every direction, rain poured down from the heavens by the bucket load, the wind tore across the land, ripping up trees and dragging them away All the while lightning slammed down into the earth, the bellowing thunder never ceasing. Billy wrapped all that was left of the wiring around his arm and readied himself. This was it.
Back in the basement, Specks had all but finished his work. Out of sight of the Nazis, both scientist and soldier, the little man had used up the entire length of his copper wiring, wrapping it around the bottom of the cylindrical drum together with the grated metal platform that held it up. Quiet as a mouse he crawled away from his work to a safe enough distance in the corners of the room, keeping himself well grounded in the dirt, and remaining out of sight. All he had to do now was wait.
Back at the opposite end of the mansion, high up in a tower, Billy was shouting outrageous remarks at the thunderstorm circling above his head, ordering it to strike him down. He had now clambered his way on top of the roof and was standing rather unsteadily, waving his wired-up metal arm in the air like a lunatic, begging the storm to notice him.
‘Come on you temperamental old bugger.’ The thunder echoed across the land, as if answering the rogue soldier. ‘Give me all you’ve got. I can take it.’ Lightning struck down in the courtyard outside. ‘You think I’m scared of you, after the things I’ve seen?’ Billy stretched out, reaching as high up as he possibly could. ‘You’re not scary. I’ve seen light bulbs with more power than you!’ But all too soon a colossal reply broke out of the sky and headed straight for him.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. For the briefest of moments the storm subsided, retracting its array of assaults and letting an eerie calm rest along the land. But instantly the tempest reignited, slaughtering the tranquility and heading straight for Billy. The clouds gave birth to a huge, horrific bolt of lightning, as if spawned from Hell itself. It ripped out of the darkness, tearing through the sky at an absurd speed, before hitting Billy in the arm. He and the storm were connected. He screamed out in pain, the strike bringing his arm alive as it unwillingly rose skywards, the pain coursing through his body. Billy yelled and swore as more lightning was drawn towards him, repeatedly striking the intended conductor. Time and time again he was hit, until the continual attack was so intense that he disappeared in a glow of white light. Sure enough, the electricity burst down the copper wiring, the heat from it leaving a wake of fire behind it. It shot down the staircase, setting the crooked tower alight. It headed into the house, along the floor of the attic, down the staircases, igniting the carpeted floors as it moved. With speed it reached the basement, running along the railings, down the stairs, under the platform, until finally hitting the cylindrical drum.
The electricity began to surge around the room, grabbing the scientists’ attention. They dropped what they were doing, all focused on the cylindrical drum which was quickly overloading, spinning faster with every turn, the noise quickly becoming unbearable. The soldiers picked up their weapons and joined the scientists, who were all looking rather baffled. The electrical charge began to spread, at first only flicking out shocks that merely tingled the skin, but quickly the apparatus in the room began to blow up. BAM. Two soldiers and a scientist went down. The cylindrical drum exceeded its speed, its metal structure fracturing. And then it happened. The electricity consumed the room. It came to life in the heart of the cylindrical drum, crackling up its sides, before finally lashing out, extending in every direction with dangerous consequences. The scientists and soldiers could do nothing to avoid it, helpless as their own electrocution played out. They shook uncontrollably, their eyes rolling in their sockets, the rubber soles of their shoes doing little to help, merely melting from the heat. One by one they dropped to their knees, collapsing in frazzled heaps on the floor. The cylindrical drum shattered, panels splintering as they fell, and a single ball of flame erupted from the top, the force sending anyone left standing slamming into the walls. The flame hit the ceiling with immense force, until burning out. The drum powered down, dead. The electricity dispersed and the room went still. The experiment was over. The repercussions however, were as yet unknown.