Chapter 17
Auschwitz was huge. Monstrously huge. Five hundred hectares! That is a lot.
Monstrous.
Sitting in the laboratory cell, it was hard to imagine the scale of what was happening around. Monstrous. I repeat this word again simply because I cannot find another. I was completely at a loss for words when I hacked my way through the guards to the outside.
I stood on the windowsill and looked at the fields of barracks and buildings stretching beyond the horizon, and I just couldn't take a breath. My breath caught and wouldn't let go until my vision began to darken.
Even the Beast stirred in my soul. It arched its back and bristled its fur. This was not rage. This was fear.
Even being near the front, I could not imagine THIS.
Now I am beginning to understand Erik Lehnsherr from the mutant saga a little. To never see such a thing again, he was ready to tear the planet apart almost with his bare hands. Anything to not see this monstrous inhuman functionality. To kill everyone himself, immediately, without torment, but only to prevent the appearance of THIS.
A grain of sand.
Just a grain of sand. That is exactly how I felt. Therefore, I spat and, turning around, walked back to the laboratory where Nicole remained. The girl has titanium nerves if she saw all this, ended up on Schmidt's chopping block, and cried for only three minutes when "everything suddenly ended." If I were a woman in a similar situation, I would be throwing a hysterical fit for at least an hour.
But I am a man. And my situation is different.
I returned. Nicole was already sitting dressed, I would even say equipped (all the gear she took from the corpses and put on herself was adjusted and tightened, habit and skill were felt).
I silently entered and hugged her tightly. She did not pull away. Only after a long minute was I able to speak. Hoarsely, literally in a whisper.
"I won't be able to... everyone..." I swallowed the rising lump with difficulty again. "Too much for me... I'll go crazy... Just lose my mind."
"It's okay," she replied calmly. Her voice was actually calm. It was frightening. "I will help. The main thing is to get to a radio..."
"You will help?" I pushed her away from me to look into her eyes. She looked firmly and did not look away.
"I will help," she nodded. "The main thing is to get to a radio."
"Let's go," I shrugged and looked away, acknowledging her leadership in this matter. And the Beast did not object. Strange. But it's even easier this way. "There are no more guards in the building. New units have not arrived yet. No alarm has been sounded. There are several prisoners. At least one of them can be useful."
"Who? How is he useful?" Clear, military-like questions. And I finally believed—she will help. The girl has grown up... Into a monster? A monster raised a monster?
"A kid. About fifteen years old. Has the ability to control metal. Any metal. Potentially one of the strongest beings on the planet."
"We'll take him with us," Nicole nodded. "But the main thing right now is the radio. Lead the way."
"Yes, Ma'am," I smiled.
"Uncle VictOr, what kind of 'Ma'am' am I to you? You used to lead me out from under the table by the hand!"
"You've grown up. So now it's just 'Victor'. Or 'Vic'."
"Alright," she made some effort over herself. "VictOr," she nevertheless pronounced with the accent on the second syllable, in the French manner. "And you call me as before—Nicole."
"Agreed."
"And now the radio. Business above all else. Where are the Schmidts?"
"They are not in the building. Searches on the territory of the camps are useless right now."
"Damn! He got away again!"
* * *
We got to the radio transmitter quickly—it was located right in the building where we were held. But there were some problems with tuning it. There was not enough power.
"Can you do something?" Nicole asked when she understood the problem. I looked closely at the equipment, checked some components, and nodded.
"I can. The transmitter is good, there is a margin of safety. I will connect power from the laboratory. But the antenna will need to be raised higher. Then there will be enough power."
"Do it," she ordered curtly. "I'll go get the kid."
I nodded to that and got to work.
Twenty minutes later everything was ready, and Max was with us in the room with the transmitter.
I applied "high" voltage to the antenna and gave my place to Nicole. She confidently took hold of the key and began tapping out a call sign. Quite a complex one, alphanumeric.
An answer came only after ten minutes. Along with the first group of the enemy, who had finally realized that something wrong was happening in the building.
I nodded to Max towards Nicole, and went to meet the guests myself.
Everything was fast and quiet. Without a single shout or shot. It's even surprising how the absence of a constant need to fight your own emotions increases combat effectiveness. Not to mention that after Schmidt's serum, strength indicators, speed, reaction, and agility increased by an order of magnitude.
I returned to the transmitter.
"VictOr," Nicole met me on the threshold. "We are going to dig in. We need men and weapons."
"Then we break through to Birkenau. Soviet prisoners of war and resistance members from all over Europe are there. We'll get weapons in the guard barracks."
"Will we manage?" she looked at me with doubt. I shrugged.
"We won't know if we don't try. Barricade yourselves here for now. The weapons are downstairs. It will be enough for the people who are in the building."
"No. We will not split up. We arm ourselves and go. To Birkenau."
* * *
And then a war began in an isolated hell. As soon as we broke through and captured, and then cleared the first guard barrack, Auschwitz began to stir like a huge anthill. Guard forces were drawing towards us. We were freeing and arming prisoners.
A front formed spontaneously. Which instantly changed, reacting to my sabotages in the enemy's conditional "rear."
There was no less death, but hope began to appear among the people. To die not like cattle in a slaughterhouse, but with weapons in hand. And far from everyone agreed to such a choice. The mess was terrible.
If it hadn't been for Nicole, we would have been crushed in a week at most, even if they couldn't catch me. I simply wouldn't have been able to rouse people to fight again. But Nicole was there. And no one disputed her leadership and command. She gave orders. She sent and led people into battle. She worked with the map and determined sabotage targets for me. And she continued to keep in touch with someone via radio.
And a week later I found out with whom.
On that day, my task was to destroy the anti-aircraft crews and suppress the air defense system from at least one side. I succeeded.
And planes without identification marks entered the formed corridor. And an airborne assault came from them.
The three of us: me, Max, and Nicole were the first to meet the arrivals.
Four people were walking towards us, leading a formation of soldiers in uniforms without insignia. And I knew two of them.
"Captain Rogers," the one walking at the point of the wedge introduced himself. "Strategic Scientific Reserve."
"Senior Lieutenant Fury," Nicole introduced herself, giving a military salute to the higher-ranking officer. "Howling Commandos, field commander."
I looked at Nicole and Zen washed over me. Nick Fury! Fury! Only now, after twenty-nine years of knowing her, did I find out her surname... What would it have cost me to do this earlier?
My understanding of the world around me flew far away. My gaze glazed over, and my arms dropped. Good thing I wasn't holding anything heavy, or I would have smashed my foot.
I woke up only upon hearing my name.
"...Victor Creed," Nicole was pointing at me. Nick. Apparently introducing me to the arrivals.
"We know each other," Steve smiled and held out his hand. I automatically answered the handshake, not controlling my strength. Rogers grimaced and even crouched slightly. I caught myself and let go.
"Hello, Stevie," I answered him, still thinking poorly. "Hello, Peggy," I greeted Carter standing to the right of Cap.
"Hello, Creed," she glanced gloomily at me.
"And this is Corporal Howlett and Sergeant Barnes," Rogers introduced the rest.
I looked at the named ones.
And what did I see? Hugh Jackman, smoking a cigar in uniform and a helmet.
Well then. Hello, Logan. So we finally meet. I wonder—will enmity arise? Or will we be able to become friends?
* * *