Codename: Athenaa

Chapter Three

08:45 (GMT) Monday, September 02, 1940 R.A.F. Northolt, England

“There, the base main gate is only 300 yards away. You will have to stop at the barrier and identify yourself. Let me speak first.”

“Yeah, just tell them that I am from the year 2012 and that I have no valid papers. That should do it.”

Megan threw an exasperated look at Nancy.

“Do you have a better idea? We just need to…”

A loud explosion followed by the staccato of machine guns cut off the young WAAF. A shark-like twin-engine propeller aircraft then overflew the main gate just after the small shack disappeared in a multitude of puffs of dust. Nancy understood immediately what was going on.

“German air raid! That was a Junkers 88 bomber.” “God, what do we do now?”

“Get inside the base. What else?”

That plan immediately changed when Nancy turned in the base main entrance: a soldier was writhing in pain besides the ruined shack, while two other soldiers lay still on top of the sandbags protecting an antiaircraft heavy machine gun position nearby to the left of the gate. Nancy stopped the car abruptly and jumped out.

“Meg, help me get that man in the car. We will drive him to the base infirmary.” “I’m with you!”

Running to the soldier near the shack, Nancy quickly inspected the large wound on his left leg. Her tours in Afghanistan and the Middle East had given her a wide experience in this kind of matter. She decided to put a temporary garrote on the leg, as the femoral artery had been touched and was pumping out blood massively. The young soldier was still fully conscious and watched on as Nancy, helped by Megan, used his belt as a garrote, then put him back on his good leg. With one woman on each side of the wounded man, the trio slowly covered the distance to the car. Nancy then rapidly threw in the back compartment the luggage covering the rear seats. She was helping Megan to sit the man inside when she heard the sound of approaching piston engines. The soldier turned his head and yelled in alarm.

“THEY ARE COMING BACK FOR A SECOND PASS!  TAKE COVER WHILE YOU CAN, LADIES!”

“Like hell we will! Meg, take care of him.” Nancy then ran towards the machine gun position.

“Nancy, what are you doing? Come back!”

Not bothering to answer, Nancy took hold of the weapon’s firing grips and c****d twice the stiff c*****g handle. It was a Browning M2 .50 caliber heavy machine gun, a weapon she was well familiar with and had fired before many times. Planting firmly her feet on the base of the weapon’s antiaircraft pedestal, with feet well separated, she straightened her arms and let her whole body weight fall back, thus using her legs to bodily point the machine gun.   She then chose a lead angle in front and slightly above the approaching Junkers 88 and kept her sight on that point as she opened fire. The noise was deafening as she hammered away, letting the bomber cross her line of tracers instead of trying to follow the aircraft. Luckily for Nancy, the bomber was performing a turn and was not coming directly at her, thus giving her a bigger target. Her first burst missed by a few feet. The German nose gunner then returned fire with a wild burst of 7.92mm machine gun fire, with a few bullets striking the sandbags around Nancy and two whistling by her ears. Something slapped her left arm but, not feeling any pain from it, she ignored it and fired a second, longer burst.

Tracers hit the right wing and engine as the Junkers 88 turned directly towards Nancy, probably to help its nose machine gunner target, but also at the same time facilitating her aim. As the German bomber started trailing smoke from its damaged engine, Nancy fired a series of short aimed bursts, targeting the cockpit and nose of the aircraft and hitting it hard. The medium bomber suddenly entered a steep dive as it was about to overfly Nancy, who was pumping burst after burst in it from nearly point blank range. Passing a bare fifty feet above the base main gate, the German plane crashed in the open field on the other side of the road, exploding on impact into a huge ball of fire.   A concert of delighted screams greeted Nancy as she scanned the sky to watch for another threat. She did not see any other aircraft nearby but she now saw the group of four WAAFs that had been taking shelter in a trench besides a nearby brick building. The four women were now running towards her, cheering.

“THAT WAS FANTASTIC SHOOTING, MISS!”

“YOU REALLY PLUGGED THAT KRAUT HARD, MISS!”

Nancy grinned at the compliments but had to excuse herself and run to her car. A WAAF NCO looked towards the Mitsubishi Outlander and let a surprised yell out.

“LACW Thomas, is that you there?”

“Supervisor O’Connors? It’s me alright! We have a wounded man here to take to the infirmary. I could use some help here.”

“Coming, deary!” Replied the matron while running towards the car.

The airman was cautiously installed on the rear seat, with Megan at his side to help steady him, while Nancy signaled the NCO to sit in the front passenger seat.

“Alright, Supervisor, show me the way to the infirmary.”

“Go straight on this road. You will have to turn left in about 300 yards.”

Nancy accelerated smoothly, avoiding potholes as much as possible. The wounded man clenched his teeth but remained silent during the short trip. They finally stopped and parked in front of the infirmary’s main entrance. Nancy and O’Connors used their arms to form a chair for the wounded, while Megan helped support the damaged leg and opened the door. Two nurses and a doctor then quickly took charge of the airman, leaving the three women to await the prognosis in the reception area. O’Connors, grinning, extended a hand, which Nancy shook firmly.

“That was really good work on your part, Miss. I will make sure to commend you to the base commander when this mess is straightened out.”

“Thanks but that was no big deal, really.”

“No big deal? Shooting down a Junkers 88 with a machine gun? You are way too modest.”

“No, I assure you. By the way, my name is Nancy Laplante.” “French?”

“No, Canadian. I was giving a ride to Megan here when we stumbled into the raid. I…”

“NANCY, YOU HAVE BEEN HIT!” Suddenly shouted Megan, pointing at Nancy’s left arm, where a hole was visible in the leather of her jacket. The nurse on duty at the reception desk, on hearing this, immediately came to Nancy and inspected her arm.

“I don’t see any blood. Please take your jacket off, Miss.”

To everybody’s relief, it turned out that the hole was a very near miss, with the skin barely scratched by the passing bullet, with a very light bleeding. The nurse smiled at Nancy, who was looking at the scratch with wide eyes.

“You are one lucky lady, Miss: a couple of inches further in and that bullet would have shattered your arm.”

O’Connors looked at Nancy with renewed respect.

“Miss, you deserve a medal for your act. Where did you learn to fire a machine gun so well anyway?”

“I’m a Canadian army reserve captain. I’m actually in military intelligence but I saw my share of action. I… OUCH! That hurt!”

“I’m sorry, captain, but I had to disinfect this scratch before bandaging it.” Replied the nurse apologetically as she applied a small bandage to Nancy’s arm. The R.A.F. doctor who had taken charge of the wounded airman then returned. A greying man wearing the uniform of a squadron leader, he was now suited up in clean surgical garb.

“Leading Airman Johnson is now being prepared for emergency surgery. He has lost a lot of blood but, thanks to you ladies, he will eventually recover fully in a few weeks. He keeps babbling about you shooting down a Junkers 88. Is this true?”

“Damn right it is, sir!” Volunteered O’Connors in a proud tone. “This tall lass here plays the heavy machine gun like a virtuoso. She even kept firing after a bullet punctured her jacket’s sleeve. Fortunately she was not really hurt.”

The doctor looked down briefly at Nancy’s bandaged arm before smiling at her.

“Good show! I suppose this will make the base WAAFs insufferable for the next few weeks, like, no more bit about women being defenseless. Oh, I believe that Flight Lieutenant Harris, the base security officer, is looking for you, miss.”

Nancy turned and watched a R.A.F. officer, accompanied by two military policemen, as he approached quickly. She did not like the look on his face. The stocky officer stopped three feet in front of Nancy. There was no hint of friendliness in his voice when he spoke.

“This is your car parked in front of the infirmary?” “Well, yes, but…”“Miss, I arrest you for unauthorized entry on this base and for suspicion of espionage.

You will come with me now. Handcuff her!”

A chorus of protests exploded as soon as Harris had stopped talking.

“Are you crazy, sir? Nancy just shot down a jerry and helped save one of our lads.” Protested Megan, with O’Connors immediately backing her up.

“That’s true, sir: this lady stood her ground against a Junkers 88 and shot it down near the main gate.”

“ Flight Lieutenant,” added the doctor, “I can personally vouch that this lady helped bring in Leading Airman Johnson, who will confirm the story about the Junkers.”

Harris looked and acted like a mean bastard, which was probably why he got the job of security officer in the first place. His response to the doctor was barely polite.

“Excuse me, sir, but I have here a complete stranger with a car full of weird-looking equipment inside a R.A.F. base. We are expecting a German invasion at any time and I have multiple reports of fifth columnists around the area. I have to take her in and check her out. Leading Airman Brannigan, take her away!”

As Nancy was led away, her hands cuffed behind her back, the enraged doctor got nose to nose with the security officer.

“Flight Lieutenant Harris, you have pulled some real boners lately, but this takes the cake! I will report this outrage to the base commander.”

“You do that, sir! Good day, sir!”

Harris then saluted and walked out. The doctor, livid, shouted at the duty nurse sitting at the reception desk.

“GET ME THE BASE COMMANDER ON THE PHONE AT ONCE! WE WILL SEE ABOUT THIS!”

The base security office was adjacent to the infirmary and was housed in the same kind of low brick building. Nancy was marched into an interrogation room, flanked by the two military policemen, and left standing in the middle of the room. The policemen withdrew to the corners behind her after taking her handcuffs off, while Harris sat at a desk in front of Nancy. She tried to plea her case, even as she was under the shock of what was happening to her.

“Look, Flight Lieutenant, I assure you…”

“SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN ASKED TO!”

The man must have been a boxer before: his nose was crooked and his ears deformed. It just made him even more intimidating than what his powerful built and brutal manners made him already. He reminded Nancy of a particularly nasty Serb commander she had met once in Kosovo during her tour with the NATO forces there.

“Empty your pockets on the desk. Quickly!”

She complied reluctantly, taking out her keys, money, wallet and a comb and putting them on the desk.

“Take your watch off too.” “I…”

“SHUT UP!”

After Nancy had put her watch alongside her wallet, Harris seized it and examined it closely. It was a Seiko sports digital watch with night-glow feature and waterproof casing. At first, the man was confused by the digital display of the watch. Then he made a mean smile.

“AH AH! Made in Japan, it says here. This looks more like some kind of timer for a bomb than a watch.”

She had to mentally agree that her watch was not the actual run off the mill one now found in 1940 England. She suddenly realized with horror that any of her personal belongings that bore ‘made in Japan’ or ‘made in Germany’ could put her in real trouble. That must have applied to about half of her equipment.   Putting aside her watch, Harris started going through the content of her wallet. First out was her money, with the word ‘Canada’ printed prominently on the dollar bills.

“AH! Trying to pass up as a colonial?”

She could not control her anger at this ignorant remark and started stepping forward as she spoke.

“Listen, you…”

The two policemen immediately stepped forward and seized her, roughly placing her back in the middle of the room. Nancy was now starting to be really scared: there was no way to know at what they would stop and spying was, at least here and now, punishable by summary execution. That was exactly what had happened to many German agents captured in England, as she recalled her history of World War II. Harris next looked at her numerous bank and identity cards and various permits. He suddenly started laughing hard, to Nancy’s puzzlement.

“What kind of twit forged those papers? All the dates on them are wrong.” He then showed her the magnetized strip on the back of her credit card.

“Some kind of microfilm, I suppose?”

“No, it’s just a piece of magnetic tape with my credit authorization number encoded on it.

Look…”

“Encoded information? You are finished, lady.”

Nancy was by now seriously beginning to believe that last statement. “Which ones are your car keys?”

‘’My car doesn’t use a key to be opened. It uses a personalized proximity detector.’’

‘’A what?’’ Said Harris, totally lost by those words. Taking a deep breath, Nancy then explained herself as simply as she could.

‘’A personalized proximity detector. It is attached to my key ring. It will unlock my car when you bring it close to it.’’

‘’What kind of crap are you trying to push on me, miss?’’ ‘’The truth! If you don’t believe me, just try it.’’

Shrugging, Harris then put aside the set of keys taken from Nancy. Next, he examined carefully Nancy’s Defense department identity card.

“Ìt says here that you are an officer in the Canadian Army reserves.”

 “I am a captain in the Canadian military intelligence, yes.”

The R.A.F. officer raised an eyebrow at her reply.

“Clever! That would have been a good cover story for an agent, if whoever made this I.D. card had not muffed the dates on it like on the rest of your cards. Besides, the Canadians, like us, have the good sense of not letting women in as officers. I thought that the Abwehr1 was more professional that this.”

“They are professionals! It’s just that my cards show the correct dates.” Harris looked at her with disdain as he picked up again her military I.D. card.

“Ìt says here born 820613. Explain!”

Realizing that the real crunch time had come, Nancy explained in as calm a voice as she could muster.

“It means that I was born on June 13, 1982. I know it sounds incredible, but I came, quite against my will, from the future, from the year 2012 to be more exact. I can prove it.” Harris’ response was simply to laugh.

“A likely story.”

He then became very serious and loud.

1 Abwehr: German military intelligence in World War II

“I HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR LIES! NOW, STRIP!” “WHAT?”

“I SAID, STRIP! OR DO YOU PREFER THAT MY MEN DO IT FOR YOU?”

One of the policemen laughed in anticipation. The other, a young private, suddenly looked ill at ease.

“Er, sir, we are supposed to use WAAFs to search women and…”

“AIRMAN, IF THIS BOTHERS YOU, THEN MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL AND GO SEARCH HER CAR.”

Harris then threw Nancy’s set of keys to the rattled policeman, who glanced apologetically at her before leaving the interrogation room. Nancy, on her part, could not move or talk. The shock of realizing that she was stuck in the past, plus this humiliating treatment, was starting to be too much for her.

“WELL, I`M WAITING!”

Throwing a hateful look at Harris, she undid her jacket and took it off. Harris immediately seized it and thoroughly poked through it.

“THE REST OF IT, NOW!”

Nancy then took off her boots, shirt and pants, keeping only her underwear. ‘This cannot be happening to me!’ she thought to herself, mortified.   Harris quickly went through her clothes, then faced her with a sadistic smile.

“ALL OF IT!”

‘’You will pay for this, I swear, you bastard!’’

Slowly, she undid her bra and left it fall to the floor, then, more quickly, slipped off her panties. She immediately covered her groin and breasts with her arms, feeling totally humiliated. After glancing at the inside of her underwear, Harris pulled up a chair behind her, then pushed her down on it and went in her back, solidly grabbing both of her wrists.

‘’Cuff her to the chair, Brannigan!’’

Nancy tried to free her hands but, despite her own significant strength, could not break free from Harris’ grip as the other policeman tied her hands to the legs of the chair. Now helpless, Nancy could only glare at Harris as the man positioned himself in front of her, admiring her nudity.

‘’Now, you will start answering seriously my questions. Who are you?’’

‘’I told you! I am Captain Nancy Laplante, of the Canadian Forces. I’m a mil…’’ Harris interrupted her with a savage slap on the face that made her head snap to the right.

‘’THE TRUTH! YOU ARE A SPY FOR THE GERMANS, ADMIT IT!’’

‘’No! I am a Canadian officer and…’’

Harris slapped her again with all his strength.

‘’STOP LYING TO ME, b***h! HOW DID YOU CROSS INTO ENGLAND? BY SUBMARINE?’’

‘’I came into my car.’’   Said Nancy, actually saying the truth.   That earned her a third hard slap. Another flight lieutenant entered the room just in time to witness the slap. A tall and handsome blond man in his early twenties, he looked at Harris with rage.