Free The Templar Prophecy by Mario Reading

weigh you down. They will be safer in my care.’
    The three men of the SS detachment guarding the plane snapped to attention when they saw what their sergeant major intended. They, too, were cradling Schmeissers. As far as they were concerned, a Wehrmacht colonel had about as much clout with them as a Russian commissar. An SS sergeant major was another beast entirely. They would obey him without question. And to the death.
    Hartelius drew his pistol from his holster and handed it to Eberhard. Inge slipped the Luger from the specially made pouch in her flying jacket and did the same.
    â€˜Thank you. Now I get in first. The colonel and I will share the twin passenger seats behind you. This way I can better protect the plane. You may have your pistols back when we land in Bavaria. You have only to ask.’
    Eberhard ducked under the struts and swung himself up into the cockpit. The plane creaked on its hinges. Inge and Johannes von Hartelius followed.
    Inge strapped herself into the pilot’s seat. She leant out of the staggered door and addressed one of the SS guards. ‘No one has tampered with this plane?’
    â€˜No, Frau Flugkapitän. We did exactly as you requested when you landed. Both wingroot tanks have been filled to the brim with fuel – seventy-four litres in each. We have also filled the self-sealing overload fuel tank under the fuselage with a further three hundred litres. We brought the fuel in by hand, twenty litres at a time. Two of our men were killed doing it.’
    â€˜I am sorry. You have all been very brave. The Führer is proud of you.’
    The guard acknowledged her words with a brief inclination of the head. ‘Using the details you gave me, I have calculated that you will have a potential range of between eight hundred and one thousand kilometres, if you fly at no more than four thousand metres altitude and at a steady speed of circa one hundred and thirty kilometres per hour. No one has been inside the cockpit or tampered with the luggage compartment in your absence. Whatever you brought in with you is still safe. Just as you requested, Frau Flugkapitän.’
    Inge wanted to weep for all the doomed and indoctrinated young men who were so earnestly defending what remained of her country. Instead she slipped on her leather flying helmet and goggles and gave a curt signal with her hand. ‘Fold down the wings.’
    The SS guards did as she asked.
    â€˜Now prep the engine by turning the propeller six times anticlockwise. Slowly. Then circle the fuselage and check all the flaps manually for freedom of movement.’
    The soldiers split off into units and ran to obey her.
    â€˜It is done, Frau Flugkapitän.’
    Inge glanced at Eberhard. ‘If you didn’t insist on coming with us, we could manage an almost vertical take-off. As it is we shall have to launch ourselves over the Russian lines. This is an absurd extra risk, Sergeant Major. I beg you to reconsider.’
    â€˜Then order your husband off the plane. That would lighten us up considerably.’
    Inge turned back to her instruments. ‘He is the reason weare making this flight, Sergeant Major. Not you. You know that very well. He stays on, or I don’t fly.’
    â€˜As you wish, Freifrau. You have a machine gun in the nose, don’t you? Use that on the Ivans.’
    â€˜No. There is nothing in the nose beyond the propeller. The MG 15 is usually behind you. On a swivel. It was taken off in order to lighten the plane. It may have escaped your notice, but I am a test pilot, Sergeant Major, not a fighter pilot. Women in the Third Reich are not permitted to fly on combat missions. Although you wouldn’t know it to look at me now.’ Inge laughed and flipped the electric starter. The Storch burst into clattering life. ‘I suggest you view this plane as a woman, Sergeant Major. You can hit her, but she cannot strike you back. But I am sure that, given the particular