men who had opened up on them from inside the train station. His eyes widened as the match he was using blew out. He had started to reach for a sidearm when Ben, his reactions this time far faster, aimed his Colt and fired four rounds. The first three hit nothing but air as the car was jolted from side to side. The fourth caught the German in the center of his chest. Lee watched as the man’s weapon fell. Then, in slow motion, he leaned over the small railing and plummeted from the train. Ben was almost thrown from the hood when the car ran over the man’s body.
Lee gunned the engine. As steam started spewing forth from under the hood, partially blinding Hamilton, the Ford’s front bumper slammed into the train. Ben was thrown forward, losing his grip on the single windshield wiper. He started sliding down, unable to grab on to anything because of his gun hand.
Garrison Lee saw what was about to happen. He slowed the car until there was twenty feet of distance and then accelerated once more with the engine screaming in protest.
“Get to your knees and get ready,” Lee shouted. “Hold on to nothing.”
“What! Are you nuts?” Hamilton pushed the Colt back into his pants, then stooped and faced forward, following his orders no matter how crazy they sounded.
The last ten feet between car and speeding train was covered in less than ten seconds. The front bumper slammed into the train once more. The impact was so hard that without a handhold Ben was shot forward like a catapult. His eyes widened as he passed through the steam of the overheating engine and then the railing was right there. He grabbed at it as Lee backed the car away. With his heart racing faster than the car’s engine, Ben hung on to the thin railing as his feet bounced from railroad tie to railroad tie. Finally, he started to pull himself up as Lee’s car bounced once, twice, and then hopped the tracks to the right side of the caboose. Ben started climbing up the railing to the platform. As he slid to the floor he tried to catch his breath. Looking around, he wondered how he was going to get inside with at least ten armed men waiting for him. Then he saw the answer.
Garrison Lee was using the last of the car’s momentum to catch up with the passenger cars. As he looked to his left with his good eye, he saw the shocked face of the small SS general, Goetz, widen in astonishment. Lee grimaced, raising his. 45 and shooting into the windows of the Pullman. Glass was flying as at least three of the wildly placed bullets hit their targets. The unsuspecting Germans never saw it coming. Lee didn’t know if he had hit Goetz, but suspected he hadn’t.
Ben knew when to act. He took a deep breath and then stood. His legs were no longer shaking and his heartbeat, while still fast, had calmed enough that he could put his makeshift plan into motion.
Hamilton turned the knob and stepped inside the caboose. He saw a shocked conductor and caboose man as they cowered in a corner. Ben placed a finger to his lips and then ran forward. He went through the next door and onto the open platform between the two cars. He once more took a deep breath and then stepped through the adjoining door. He saw men starting to pick themselves up from the center aisle, and at least two more firing their submachine guns from an open window. Ben opened fire, taking out the most obvious threats first-the men at the windows. Then he fired twice more at two men who were attempting to stand. Then, as he saw Goetz start to run down the aisle, Ben aimed. Click. His Colt was empty. He looked around. He noticed a wounded German prone in the aisle and Hamilton saw what he was reaching for. He kicked out viciously with his right boot, catching the man in the chin and sending him to the Thousand Year Reich. He reached down and recovered the machine gun. Without hesitating, he jumped over the dead and dying guards and ran after General Goetz.
Outside, Lee knew he had to get on that train. The car was as near to death as he himself had been four days earlier. He saw a break between cars coming up and slammed the steering wheel to the left. The Ford once more hit the berm on the tracks and jumped three feet. Instead of sliding back down, the small car hugged the side of the speeding train. Lee reached out and took hold of the railing that protected passengers going from one car to the next. The Ford suddenly jerked right and he lost his hold. Cursing, he tried again, once more slamming the slowing car into the side of the train. The engineer in front started blowing his whistle and the train sped up. Lee was fast losing his window of opportunity to get on the train and help young Hamilton.
“Damn it,” he yelled, ripping the soaked bandage from the right side of his face. He reached out again through the window, this time holding the steering wheel steady with his wounded leg. He took a firm hold of the railing and pulled. As he did so his right leg straightened and the wheel began to spin crazily. Lee was pulled out of the window and left dangling by one hand as the speeding Ford turned sharply to the right and then simply rolled over, crashing into the tree line that ran beside the feeder road. The OSS colonel found himself in the same situation his onetime student Hamilton had been in a moment earlier as he dangled from the train. His right leg was screaming in agony and he knew his strength could not hold out much longer. He felt his fingers starting to lose their hold on the rail. He closed his eyes and felt the blood from the damaged stitches on the right side of his face begin to flow in earnest. He cursed himself for his lack of strength. Now he would fall and be crushed underneath the train’s wheels. It wasn’t dying that bothered him. It was letting young Hamilton down. He silently wished him luck as his fingers slid from the railing.
Just as he felt his hand let go, his fall was stopped. He was still dangling as he looked up and saw why. Hamilton had come from the car and reached out and grabbed Lee’s hand at the last second. Lee saw him struggling with his weight and against the forces of the speeding train. Still Hamilton pulled. Finally Lee was able to grab the railing with his right hand. Then, before he knew it, he was pulled aboard. Both men collapsed and sat breathing hard. Hamilton swallowed and then looked over at Lee, who was sitting with his chin on his chest. Ben saw the horrible wound on the right side of the colonel’s face. He grimaced and then stood with the help of the machine gun.
“If you’ll excuse me, Colonel, I believe General Goetz went thataway.”
Lee reached out and tried to grab Hamilton’s pant leg but missed. He fell to his knees.
“Damn,” he said, reaching into his waistband and pulling out the Colt. As he tried to sit up, he found he had to use the railing again since he had no strength left.
Ben cautiously opened the door on the next car. Looking back at Lee momentarily he saw the big man trying to sit up. He knew from looking at Lee’s condition that he would have to take Goetz alone. He opened the door. He saw the crates that had been loaded and then he saw Goetz ducking behind the largest of them.
Hamilton closed the door and went to one knee. He watched, waiting for Goetz to show the top of his head. Ben had been first in his class in target shooting and hoped his skill hadn’t diminished in the years he had been inactive here in Ecuador. As he waited, Goetz remained hidden.
“Mr. Hamilton, I believe?” Goetz called out.
He listened, but didn’t say anything in return. Ben saw an opening and duck-walked to a crate that was against the far wall of the freight car. He took up a position behind it.
“Mr. Hamilton, my name is Goetz. I am aware of your record, my boy. I am also aware of the qualifications of the man that trained you. And I also know that Colonel Lee is still alive. Imagine my consternation seeing him driving a car at fifty miles an hour and shooting at me.”
“I imagine you almost shit your pants. I mean, I would if I knew Lee was coming for me.” Ben used the loudness of his voice to edge closer. He sped across to the next closest crate and hunkered down.
“Ben… may I call you Ben?” Goetz raised his head for a split second and then quickly ducked back and in that split second Hamilton saw that the right lens was cracked on Goetz’s wire-framed glasses. One advantage of this was that the German would have a hard time seeing. Lee had taught him to quickly count down the advantages and disadvantages of any situation he found himself in.
“Sure, why not be on a first-name basis with the man who’s going to kill you?” Hamilton said, looking away from Goetz so as not to give him his exact location.
“Those are hasty words, Ben, especially for what I have to offer the United States government.”
Hamilton resisted the urge to speak again. This time he rose up as high as he dared and peeked over the large crate. He brought up the machine gun and waited for Goetz to show himself one last time.
“It’s a miracle, Ben. In these crates I have a miracle. Your government would be happy to have what I possess, young man.”
Hamilton knew Goetz wasn’t going to risk another peek above his own crate. The young agent knew he would have to flush the general out. He aimed at a tight spot where he guessed Goetz would appear.
“What one man possesses one minute, another possesses the next,” he said. “Whatever is here, General, we’ll soon know all about it.”
“That is true. But what comes with the crates, Ben, is five years of research by the best German minds. It will save you years upon years of study to come half as close as we in understanding what it is we truly have-as I
