The wind whistled around them, the final greying female Fox Terrier joining the third before her, the dog shaking its head as she grinned, bracing her body against the gale and splattering sea droplets and smiling, ‘Okay…shall we go back to the car now? There are biscuits there and your blanke…’ Her voice trailed off as furious barking suddenly erupted nearby, the assembled four dogs all turning their heads. The drenched three younger ones were strained and stiffened at the edge of the land before it descended down to rocks, hackles seeming to rise as they snapped and barked in rising anger, staring out over the swirling angry sea.
Margaret strained her smarting, bloodshot eyes, a hand rising to her forehead instinctively as the older dogs began to stiffen and turn, low chest growls resounding around her as she strained further, unable to see much more than a few hundred metres in the grey, moisture thick heavy air, the waves crashing against the rocks below as frothing surf surged upwards, then crashed back down.
Then the murmur swept over her, a faint sound burbling and pulsing, then increasing, seeming to fill the air as it rose in volume, her stinging eyes straining further. She took a couple of steps back as fear swiftly ignited within her chest, the older dogs’ growling rising as one bared its teeth, then two others, the fourth snapping as the Fox Terrier’s head lowered in anger.
Margaret gasped as she briefly glimpsed dots low in the sky, then they became obscured briefly in the drizzle before appearing again, the dark shapes nearing and becoming more pronounced, angular lines across their hulls as she stepped back, glancing round in rising fear.
The barking became furious, seven dogs snapping and growling as she turned to run, looking over at the distant lorry and drawing breath, the silhouettes of figures running forward and lowering, the soldiers clearly alarmed as one silhouette stared through the water drenched windscreen in horror.
Two of the dogs glanced round, turning on their haunches to follow their mistress, the others continuing to bark as the air trembled and shook, the angular vessels approaching rapidly towards the coastline, rainwater pouring from the darkened hulls, the sea swirling underneath.
Then the craft swept over the coastline, accelerating and surging forward, the soldiers below counting the craft and shouting warnings in alarm as a sharp monotonous tone sounded on the short wave radio in the lorry cab, the set jammed as all other communications immediately became jammed across Skye and western Scotland.
Margaret was running as fast as she could, seven dogs now circling around her and panting in fear, their initial bravado reduced to whimpers as they sensed an oncoming threat, the ultimate motivator being the terror rising in their owner. The roar of engines behind became intense, overwhelming her senses as she ran with her terrified head forced down, desperate to escape. She sucked the cold wet air, realising the large vehicle was over two miles away as her chest heaved, wincing as the arthritic pain she took painkillers daily for suddenly decided to intervene, surging through her lumbering knees.
Slowing in resigned exasperation, her leg muscles jerked in agony, Margaret’s head twisted from side to side breathlessly as the surging, pulsing roar echoed across the heather, the dogs nuzzling against her thighs in aguish, panting in fear. Looking up, she stared in awe at the slowing craft that suddenly filled her vision through the murk, the dark grey hull glistening with rainwater, her sight straining as she stared towards the resin cockpit windows. Numerous other vessels streaked past on either side as Margaret stood transfixed, a solid black helmet staring back at her before disappearing as the craft moved past.
The reinforced hull slowed, turning slowly in the rain drenched sky as the heather shook beneath, wet earth thrown upwards, Margaret shaking her head as it lowered towards the ground, under hull thrusters flashing briefly as the craft landed with a dull thud some one hundred metres ahead. The dogs growled further as she physically shook with fear, staring at the angled craft, the side door ahead sweeping upwards as Margaret drew back, reaching desperately for the leads in her deep jacket pockets as the dogs whimpered, hearing distant shouts of alarm from the north.
The lights seemed to glimmer from within the hold of the transport, then a tall armoured shadow stood before the illuminations, stepping out into the downpour, the light flickering off the rainwater falling onto the black armour.
Margaret staggered backwards in shock, grabbing for her dogs on either side as the growling increased, the lone armoured figure staring straight at her, red helmet eyes flickering and then becoming constant as the right upper limb extended to indicate northwards. Three bulky tall figures swept from behind the officer and lunged forward through the heather with assault rifles towards the identified position of human soldiers…and warm flesh.
The lone black armoured Morgon moved slowly forward once more, Margaret stepping back as tears filled her eyes, glancing down at the seven whimpering and barking dogs below her, her voice rising in shrieking horror, ‘Please…Please don’t hurt them! They are innocent…just the animals I love!’
Chapter Sixteen: The Ukraine and Northern Russia
A Glimmer of Hope
The Ukraine
Major Johann Kelb stared through his thermal binoculars, grimacing at the smouldering terrain below, flickering heat rising from the torn earth, the phosphorous mines and explosive craters still flickering and burning. Shattered bodies and fragmented hydraulic and broken resin armour lay across the pitted landscape, several frames still crawling forward or firing their rifles desperately towards the slit trenches.
Crouched dark armoured figures stepped through the intense heat sources, assault
