Secret of the Dragon's Teeth

By Derek Hart

The Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth continues the adventures of Gavin Kane, Emily Scott, and Bunty Digby, sixteen-year-olds who struggle with their daily lives in England during the pivotal year of 1944. Cornwall is now an armed camp, with thousands of Americans and Canadians, as well as men from throughout the occupied countries, all training and preparing for the invasion of the European continent. The war has reached a brutal climax and the Allies now have the upper hand. In Nazi Germany, however, Heinrich Himmler is far from admitting defeat, as he prepares to unleash whatever horror he can devise to delay the inevitable.

The Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth continues the friendship and alliance between this teenage trio and their wonderful mentor, Thaddeus Osbert. The dragon has proved adroit at looking after the teens, while also juggling the expectations of his own species. Thaddeus commits himself to take an active part in deciding the outcome of the war, while he also discovers that some of his fellow dragons are conspiring against humanity. Right in the midst of the Normandy invasion, Sir Osbert adds his incredible powers to help sway the odds. Likewise, Gavin accepts his role as the wielder of the enchanted sword of King Arthur and finally confronts the evil wizard Adicus Schinagel, with unexpected results.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derek Hart
• Release date: Nov 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370926565

Derek Hart

Derek Hart is the prolific author of 28 action and adventure novels, known for their historical accuracy, while still maintaining a high level of entertainment. Romance is also a vital part of Derek Hart's trademark style and his novels generally appeal to men and women alike. Mr. Hart authored Secret of the Dragon's Eye, his first novel aimed at all age groups, which met with instant success and outstanding reviews. The author has since followed with Secret of the Dragon's Breath, Secret of the Dragon's Claw, Secret of the Dragon's Scales and Secret of the Dragon's Teeth. The final volume of the 6-episode series, Secret of the Dragon's Wings, will be available in November of 2018. He has since started a new series, post-apocalyptic in nature, with Minerva's Shield and Nike's Chariot. The third installment, Apollo's Plague came out in November 2017. Abandoned was published in March 2018 and Game Over premiered in June 2018. List of published books: Secret of the Dragon’s Eye Secret of the Dragon’s Breath Secret of the Dragon’s Claw Secret of the Dragon’s Scales Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth Secret of the Dragon’s Wings Claws of the Raven Danger Cruise Favor for FDR Crooked Cross Factor Tracks of the Predator For Love or Honor Bound Tales of the Yellow Silk Element of Surprise Seas Aflame Ice Flotilla High Altitude Low Opening Tangles of Truth Shadows in Replay Flag of Her Choosing Tidal Trap Dangerous (Poetry) Executive Firepower The CARLA Conspiracy The Wreckchasers Minerva's Shield Nike's Chariot Apollo's Plague Abandoned Game Over Mercury's Wings Before the Dead Walked Books coming soon: The Samuel Clemens Affair Pearl and Topaz By the Moon Darkly Broadmoor Manor Neptune's Trident Operation Sovereign Primary Weapon Saturn's Fire Tails of Thaddeus Enchanted Mesa Eagle Blue Last Guidon Excess Baggage Container Carta Codex Shipwreckers Romeo Tango The 5x5 Gang Desert Salvage

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Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth

Book Five

By Derek Hart

Come not between the dragon and his wrath. - William Shakespeare, King Lear

Published by Derek Hart at Smashwords

Copyright © 2016 Derek Hart

Discover other titles by Derek Hart at Smashwords.com

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20731

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to Steve Gilbert

Foreword

The Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth continues the adventures of Gavin Kane, Emily Scott, and Bunty Digby, sixteen-year-olds who struggle with their daily lives in England during the pivotal year of 1944. Cornwall is now an armed camp, with thousands of Americans and Canadians, as well as men from throughout the occupied countries, all training and preparing for the invasion of the European continent. The war has reached a brutal climax and the Allies now have the upper hand. In Nazi Germany, however, Heinrich Himmler is far from admitting defeat as he prepares to unleash whatever horror he can devise to delay the inevitable.

The Secret of the Dragon’s Teeth continues the friendship and alliance between this teenage trio and their magnificent mentor, Thaddeus Osbert. The dragon has proved adroit at looking after the teens while also juggling the expectations of his own species. Thaddeus commits himself to taking an active part in deciding the outcome of the war, while he also discovers that some of his fellow dragons are conspiring against humanity. Right in the midst of the Normandy invasion, Sir Osbert adds his incredible powers to help sway the odds. Likewise, Gavin accepts his role as the wielder of the enchanted sword of King Arthur and finally confronts the evil wizard Adicus Schinagel, with unexpected results.

Preface

Dragon’s teeth were square-pyramidal fortifications of reinforced concrete used during the Second World War to impede the movement of tanks. The idea was to slow down and channel tanks into killing zones where they could easily be disposed of by anti-tank weapons. In practice, however, the use of combat engineers and specialist clearance vehicles enabled tanks to be disposed of relatively quickly and they proved far less of an obstacle than many had expected.

All sides in the European Theatre used Dragon’s teeth. The Germans made extensive use of them in the Siegfried Line and the Atlantic Wall. Typically, each tooth was about 3 to 4 feet tall, depending on the precise model. Landmines were often laid between the individual teeth. Additional obstacles, such as barbed wire to impede infantry or diagonally placed steel beams to further hinder tanks, were constructed along the lines of teeth. The French employed them in the Maginot Line while many were laid in the United Kingdom in 1940 - 1941 as part of the effort to strengthen the country’s defenses against a possible German invasion.

Behind minefields were the dragon's teeth. They rested on a concrete mat between ten and thirty meters wide, sunk in a meter or two into the ground (to prevent any attempt to tunnel underneath them and place explosive charges). On top of the mat were the teeth themselves, truncated pyramids of reinforced concrete about a meter in height in the front row, to two meters high in the back. They were staggered and spaced in such a manner that a tank could not drive through. Interspersed among the teeth were minefields, barbed wire, and pillboxes that were virtually impregnable by the artillery and set in such a way as to give the Germans crossing fire across the entire front. The only way to take those pillboxes was for infantry to get behind them and attack the rear entry. But behind the first row of pillboxes and dragon’s teeth, there was a second, and often a third, and sometimes a fourth. – Stephen Ambrose, Victors, pg. 256

Due to the huge numbers laid, and their durable construction, many thousands of dragon’s teeth can still be seen today, especially in the remains of the Siegfried and Maginot Lines.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to Jodi Roth, David Burke, Steve and Linda Gilbert, Ian Lenthart, Michele Desjardins, Dimiter Kole, Rachel Sliwinski and Carsten Bradley.

Cover art by David M. Burke

Introduction

Dragon Teeth

Seeds of discord

Sown in the midst of strife

Serrated edges snap shut

Sharper blades form the jaws of death.

Fangs flash in defiance

Ferocious snarling mythical beast

Fierce snapping jaws of incredible power

Flashing white incisors devouring enemies untold

Dragon teeth extended in anger

Deliver justice with a single blow

Dangerous to tamper with history

Defend Britain in her hour of need

Brave Thaddeus protects his charges

Bitten by the loyal heart of chivalry

Breaks the rules at every turn

Broken promises unfurled by time

Magical legends of teeth unfold

Mystical powers from stories oft told

Maverick creature looks out for clues

Meddling dragon will save us all

By Robert Ian Lenthart

(Used with permission)

Chapter 1

Timely Interruption

There was an old stone house with apple trees in the yard, surrounded by a thick stone fence, which went clear around the house, separating the apple orchard from the road. Standing near a grassy bank in the hedgerow country of Normandy, not far from the village of Bayeux, British Royal Army Major Traber Vickers awaited his execution in the cool dawn mist.

The members of the German SS Exekutionskommando firing squad had heard the guttural orders to open fire.

Schiessen!

Suddenly darkness fell across them as their rifles fired simultaneously.

However, not one bullet hit the target.

In fact, every round simply stopped in mid-flight, as if they had struck an invisible wall.

Was geht hier vor? one German voiced his wonder.

Dumbfounded by this strange turn of events, the soldiers all looked at their rifles first, then at their commanding officer. The SS Captain could only manage a half-hearted shrug.

Major Vickers peered through half-open slits, just as surprised to still be alive.

It was then that the mysterious shadow grew in proportion, blotting out the morning sunrise. The German soldiers felt an incredible chill sweep over them and they huddled together in uncertainty and even fear.

In a blink of an eye, there appeared before them a gigantic monstrosity, a magnificently terrible creature with flaming-red scales. The dragon was poised, claws extended, tail raised to strike, mouth open to display his razor-sharp teeth.

Perhaps courageously, but more likely foolhardy, the SS officer shook off his initial shock and screamed for his men to open fire again. They hesitated for only a moment, before discipline and training took over.

Weapons lifted, it was the last thing those German soldiers ever did.

Thaddeus Osbert roared in defiance and with vicious fury unleashed, the dragon incinerated the firing squad with his fire-breath. Enveloped in one powerful jet of liquid flame, the men were instantly turned into nothing more than ashes. The intense heat also engulfed the truck used to transport Major Vickers to his execution site and it exploded, but the debris merely bounced off the dragon’s scales.

Thaddeus spun around and with one swift move, sliced free the bonds that held the English officer. I do apologize for cutting things a bit close, my dear Traber. It has been a busy week. It was only a few days ago that I discovered you had been captured.

Vickers rubbed his sore wrists, but grinned. I think you have impeccable timing, Sir Osbert. Thank you.

Thaddeus shook his head. No need to thank me, young man. I am your friend and ally, so it’s my duty to come to your aid.

Just the same, I am very grateful, Vickers said.

The dragon pointed to his back. As much as I would like to chat for awhile over a nice hot cuppa tea, I am pressed to further action by a most demanding schedule, Major. Please, climb aboard.

Vickers dutifully clambered up the open scales, which formed perfect steps to the dragon’s neck. Traber settled down and grabbed hold of Thaddeus. I’m ready, old friend.

We must make a vital detour, before I can return you to England, Major, Sir Osbert explained. It is a matter of life-and-death.

I’m in your debt, Thaddeus, Vickers shouted. Do whatever you must.

Extending his wings, the dragon launched himself straight up into the air with a powerful leap, his hind legs catapulting him at least 300 feet skyward. With a mighty downward sweep of his wings, Thaddeus was airborne.

Major Vickers held on with all his might, hoping he wouldn’t tumble backwards. Just then, the dragon leveled off and it was smooth flying thereafter.

Well, not exactly smooth, but less bumpy.

Back in London, Scotland Yard Inspector Peter Grimsby was enjoying a freshly brewed mug of real tea, savoring every sip. While rationing was still in full swing, convoys from Canada and the United States were making the journey with far fewer losses now. Items that had vanished from shelves for several years were now finally making their way back, much to the delight of the citizenry.

However, his brief moment of relaxation was rudely interrupted.

Brrring, brrring, brrring, went the phone on his desk.

Inspector Grimsby here, Peter answered.

It was the switchboard operator. Ten Downing Street, again, I’m afraid, sir.

Grimsby rolled his eyes and sighed. Very well, put him through.

Inspector, Thompson here, said the voice on the other end. You are requested to meet with the PM as soon as possible, perhaps within the hour.

I shall be there momentarily, sir, Grimsby answered obediently.

There’s a good chap, Thompson said. Transportation will be waiting for you curbstone.

Grimsby hung up and sighed. I wonder what it will be this time around. He snatched up his satchel, shoved a few folders inside and scurried from his office.

Just as promised, by the time the Inspector was outside, an official black sedan was parked by the entrance, driver standing with door open. Peter ducked his head and before he was actually seated, the auto sped away.

Grimsby knew better than to try to strike up a conversation, so he instead looked out the window. London looked alive again, with people candidly enjoying the first signs of Spring. 1944 had begun with a most promising change in the war, on every front and it finally looked as if it would end someday.

The thought made Peter smile. Then he could get back to solving crimes of the Scotland Yard type, rather than this constant government skullduggery.

At 10 Downing Street, however, an entirely new set of priorities were being considered, which when enacted, would most certainly give Chief Inspector Peter Grimsby a profoundly unwelcome set of headaches.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill sat directly across from his close friend and confidante Professor Lindeman. So, what’s got you all in a tizzy?

Britain’s leading military scientist had recently been proven wrong when he categorically claimed the Germans were not capable of building rockets. It was an embarrassing blunder, one that the PM wasn’t likely to forget.

Your confounded network of busy bodies, Lindeman replied. Spies and secret agents all lurking about, I tell you.

Churchill grinned through the puffs of his newly lit cigar. Oh, stop your complaining.

It’s a lot of poppycock, I tell you, Lindeman went on. Wars are won on the battlefield, not in back alleys and whorehouses.

Churchill swept away the smoke with his free hand and scowled. For someone so intelligent, you often say the most idiotic things. Of course, wars are decided in the seedier locales. If it were simply a matter of armies firing volleys, we would have won this sordid affair, years ago. Hitler is a master of back room strategy and we must at least match him in this regard.

The Professor grunted something unintelligible and pouted.

Come now, my friend, you must not sulk about the rockets, Churchill said quietly, fully aware of what was bothering Lord Cherwell. You have accomplished so much for our country and this government. In no way shall your simple oversight tarnish your name.

The professor dramatically changed the subject.

You do realize the Germans probably know about your dragon by now? Lindeman questioned.

Churchill shrugged before shaking his head. In this case, I think only Himmler is aware of such. I do not imagine he has shared it with that paper-hanging fool, or anybody else for that matter. Our Special Branch lads tell me Heinrich is running his own show over there, independent of most of Herr Hitler’s cronies.

Lindeman frowned. What about after the war, Winston? What do you suppose will happen then? Himmler will have plenty to bargain with, especially when the Americans get wind of his secrets.

Churchill leaned forward and in almost a whisper he said, In the unlikely event that Himmler is foolish enough to get himself captured, I will make certain he utters a word to no one.

Lindeman was shocked. You would cheat the hangman?

I am the hangman, the PM growled. I will not have that bloody Nazi gumming up the works.

The Professor did not know what to say. He had never before realized to what lengths Winston Churchill might go. Sitting back in the chair, he swept back his unruly locks of grey hair, but remained quiet.

The PM also returned to his normal sitting portrayal, puffing away vigorously. He let the silence build, as if the mere lack of his voice would shape a different destiny. Then, in a low and serious tone, Churchill said, That dragon is our dragon, an English dragon. There is no negotiating point in this regard, not with the Americans, nor the Germans and certainly not with the bloody Russians. I will not be deterred in this matter. Sir Thaddeus Osbert is all we have left to change the odds and when the time comes, I will sacrifice him, if necessary, to save the Empire. Now let there be no further discussion on this matter.

While in faraway Wewelsburg, Germany, Reichsminister Heinrich Himmler was also determined to win, no matter what the odds or the cost. He too was making plans for the future.

His future!

This would be with or without Adolf Hitler, or the Third Reich, or even Germany, for that matter. If anyone got in his way, they would suffer indeed.

For the dark wizard Adicus had shown Himmler it was possible to gain immeasurable power by mastering dark magic. Heinrich’s destiny was for him and him alone to shape.

Disturbingly, there was the possible complication of a certain dragon working for the British. For Himmler’s plan to succeed, the elusive red dragon must be eliminated. To this end, Himmler was committed. Nothing would stand in his way.

Nothing.

The dark castle at Wewelsburg was almost abandoned now, many of Heinrich’s handpicked SS troops sent off to battle the Russians. Only the concentration camp guards remained, but they were no longer of the high caliber that Himmler had once demanded. The replacements were old men and young boys, sometimes even seriously wounded survivors from the meat-grinder on the Eastern Front. The prisoners, however, were still tortured for their black arts secrets and eventually executed.

Himmler stood all alone on the battlements. He looked over his shrinking domain and accepted that the climax was drawing near. The English and Americans would invade the Continent soon and Russia was inching ever closer, regardless of how many German troops were sent to stem the tide. However, instead of seeing his world crumbling, Heinrich only saw opportunity. It was his destiny to rule the world, but not through any conventional means. With Adicus by his side, Himmler would unleash terrors from beyond the gates of hell itself.

While back in London, Inspector Grimsby arrived at 10 Downing Street without any delay. He was quickly ushered into the PM’s private office.

Good afternoon, Prime Minister, Peter said as he entered.

He was the recipient of a warm and enthusiastic handshake. Yes it is, Inspector. How have you been keeping?

Churchill took a healthy puff of his cigar.

Grimsby smiled. Quite well, sir, thank you. The Yard continues to benefit from your consistent support of our endeavors. It is greatly appreciated.

Winston grinned through the smoke. We couldn’t win this war without you chaps. Sit, sit, young man, relax. I won’t bite, at least not today.

The Inspector did as suggested. A cup of freshly brewed tea was instantly in his hand and Churchill’s bodyguard, Walter Thompson, hovered nearby. The PM took another deep draw from his cigar, before he set it in the ashtray and leaned forward.

Inspector Grimsby knew at once that something serious was on Churchill’s mind. Peter quickly sipped at the tea, and then placed the cup off to the side. He mimicked the Prime Minister’s movements.

Yes, sir, how may I be of assistance to you? Grimsby inquired.

Churchill said, Eager, are we? I’ll get right to the point then.

As a matter of habit, the Inspector pulled out his trusty notebook.

The PM frowned and wagged a disapproving finger. No notes today, Peter, I’m afraid. This discussion is strictly off the record.

The little black book slowly slipped back inside the coat pocket.

I have spoken to Commissioner Sir Philip Game, Churchill began. He has approved my request that you be assigned to me for the duration of the war.

Grimsby swallowed hard.

What say you, man? the PM growled.

It will be quite an honor, sir, the Inspector managed to say.

Walter Thompson offered his hand. Welcome to the team, Peter.

Grimsby stood up and shook hands, then repeated the process with the Prime Minister. I promise to give you my very best detective skills, sir.

I have no doubt of that, Inspector, Churchill said with a grin. I shall pass each case to you through Walter here. Now off you go.

Without another word, Inspector Grimsby exited Churchill’s office and made his way to the front door. To his surprise, the driver and government sedan were still waiting for him.

Back to the Yard, sir? the driver asked.

In a bit of a daze, Peter replied, Yes, please.

Right you are, sir.

The rear door opened and Grimsby slid inside. He was barely seated, when the car sped away again.

Oh bother, Peter mumbled to himself. You’ve managed to make a mess of everything, Peter my boy.

What’s that again, sir? the driver asked.

Peter frowned. Oh, it’s nothing really. Carry on.

As the government sedan sped along the streets of London, Grimsby pondered his fate. Why was it necessary to bring him all the way to see the prime minister, just to be informed he was assigned to Churchill? Wasn’t that already the case? Peter shook his head and sighed. There must be more to it than what was immediately apparent.

Chapter 2

Bombers over Wewelsburg

As the B-24 bombers flew over the mountains, the flight crews were treated to a beautiful sight. Below spread a vista of bright colors from the spring foliage. Fingers of intense blue rivers, snow-capped mountains, and myriad shades of green forests passed beneath them. For a fleeting moment, it gave some of the men a memory of back home in the United States. If they survived this mission, maybe they would write family and friends about the wondrous sights they had witnessed, if the censor didn’t black out the details.

Looking down from Dragon on My Tail, radio operator Bernie Grant discovered the ground almost hidden by thickening cloud cover. It looked like the primary target would be scrubbed, so Wewelsburg Castle was the alternate. The group turned on their new heading and started for the approach towards Paderborn. The radar had already been turned up and was working just the way it was supposed to. The lead bomber started sending range and course corrections to all the bombardiers.

Nobody slept or even relaxed during these flights. The mission was a life-or-death experience for everyone. They were surrounded by danger from guns on the ground, from enemy fighters, from the other bombers in their formation and even from the machinery and equipment of their own aircraft. There was no idle chitchat on the intercom.

The route to the target was planned for deceiving the enemy and for avoiding anti-aircraft fire and enemy fighters. Thus, the formation never went directly to any target. The route plotted on the map was usually a jagged line across Europe or over the North Sea to an Intersection Point, before breaking to the mainland.

From the beginning to the end of the mission, Bob Lennert, the pilot and Mario Valerio, the co-pilot, were under maximum stress as they kept the plane in tight formation within the squadron. The B-24, notoriously awkward in formation, had to be flown constantly under those conditions, so the pilots were handling their controls, adjusting their speed and watching their instruments every second. They had to listen for any change of plans by the lead plane, such as, changes in altitude, direction or speed, and then they had to manhandle the B-24 to adapt to the change.

Radio Operator Bernie Grant had to monitor radio transmissions from the Group, throughout the flight on a prescribed schedule and be aware of the plane’s geographic position constantly. As cold as the interior was from the high altitude, he was sweating profusely. At any moment, they could all be dead.

Bombardier Luke Wilcox had taken on the navigator’s function early in the combat tour, so he had to keep alert to the plane’s position and, in addition, be in position to use the radar Gee Box for navigation in an emergency. He also kept track of their position relative to the countries of safe haven, Switzerland on missions in the southern regions of Germany and Sweden for missions in the northern areas.

Engineer Oliver Tate worked closely with the pilots in monitoring the operation of the four engines and fuel levels. The aircraft’s main job was to carry bombs, and the ratio of bomb weight to the weight of fuel was calculated very carefully. Dragon on My Tail carried just enough fuel to make the mission on the prescribed route. Any deviation from the designated path or any loss of fuel for other reasons would put the bomber’s return in jeopardy.

Everyone was in a constant state of alert to all movement in the air around the plane. They watched other planes in the formation for any change in flight attitude. Sergeant Bailey rotated his top gun turret to keep it flexible and ready for action, watching diligently for enemy fighters, identifying them and giving their direction from the plane.

After the full formation had made its way across Europe, it reached a point where it would break up into bomb groups with specific targets within the larger targeted area. In most cases, the bombers would turn ninety degrees onto a bomb run leading into the specific target. This would inevitably give the pilots a view of the flak barrage that awaited them over each target.

Each position on the bombers reported flak bursts, giving their location in correlation to the B-24’s position in the sky.

Fighters at three o’clock, low, called out Bailey. They’re chasing another group.

Flak coming up at one o’clock, Murray Kaplan announced.

The stress was constant and the fear was gut-wrenching.

Twenty minutes before the release point over Wewelsburg, the flak batteries near Paderborn opened fire. Not heavy at first, but as the group moved closer to the target, the flak moved closer to them. From the waists of many of the B-24’s, clouds of silver metallic chaff blossomed into the slipstream. For a few moments it seemed that the more chaff the crewmembers threw, the more flak was thrown up at them.

Nearer the release point, flak seemed to fill every corner of the sky, no matter how much chaff the gunners threw out. They had only been in the flak for a couple of minutes, and already that was too long.

Boom!

Bang.

Kablam!

Clang.

Kaboom!

Rattle…clatter…bling.

Another piece of shrapnel ricocheted off the airframe.

The noise inside the B-24 was incredibly loud, and got louder still.

One of the reasons that American cigarette and chewing gum manufacturers had stopped wrapping their product in metal foil was for the use of chaff on bombing raids, tons of it scattered all over Europe. Chaff received its name from its similarity to the fine husks of wheat carried off by the wind, as the seed was separated from the plant. In the context of a bombing raid, chaff were narrow strips of metal that crew tossed out of their bombers to jam the radar screens of the German gunners and thus prevent them from adjusting accurately for altitude. The shiny strips were six inches long and one-eighth inch wide. They were in small loosely bound bundles about an inch in diameter. Every bomber carried as large a supply of chaff as they could get their hands on. During any antiaircraft barrage, the crew, mainly the waist gunners, would toss the bundles of chaff out the waist windows, where the propeller wash would scatter the metal strips below them, creating a drifting metallic cloud that fouled German radar, so the enemy gunners had to guess at the altitude of the incoming bombers.

Most of the explosions were below the formation, although some of them would hit above and exactly at their level, as the gunners bracketed their radar signals. Everyone swore by the effectiveness of chaff, and what little laughter anyone enjoyed was based on the image of waist gunners Peabody and Grant frantically tossing strips out the windows. Unfortunately, however, the very important leading bombers in the formation could not benefit from the spreading of chaff, unless other formations ahead of them had tossed out enough chaff to create a cloud of metal strips that trailed under the formation. Nevertheless, in spite of chaff, flak was every bomber’s nightmare.

As they came ever closer to the target, they could see frightening clouds of flak over cities to the left and right of their formation under attack by other American bomber groups.

Then Dragon on My Tail turned onto the target and pilot Lennert could see clouds of flak bursts awaiting them like a curtain of death and injury. From a distance, the bursts looked like harmless puffs of smoke, but as they flew nearer, crew could make out the flame of the explosions and the swift and powerful shrapnel bursting through the smoke. Occasionally stricken