The Secret Station

By D.J. Smithers

In 1944, in a secret Underground station somewhere in London, plans are being drawn up for the invasion of Europe: an invasion to bring the Second World War to an end. But there's a spy afoot and a plan to assassinate the British prime minister, Winston Churchill and stop the invasion.

It's 1965, and best friends Tommy and Howie are helping clear out an old, disused Underground station when they find a hidden door. They force it open and find themselves transported back in time to a secret bunker in war-torn London.

They discover the spy. They discover the assassination plot. But there's one big problem:

They're invisible!

Somehow, they have to convince the only man who can see them, a lowly corporal, that he's not going mad and that the prime minister's life is in danger. But how can he convince his superiors without any proof?

Can they save a life? Can they help bring the war to an end?

The race is on…

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.J. Smithers
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393455837

Book preview

The Secret Station

Chapter One

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As Squadron Leader Tommy Smith’s Spitfire hurtled out of the sky, his engines belching out flames and his cockpit filling with smoke, he looked through the canopy to see his old adversary, the Black Wolf, bearing down on him, the machine guns of his Messerschmitt 109 glowing red as they riddled his plane with bullets. Tommy knew he must escape before his plane exploded in a ball of flame. He pulled the lever to jettison his canopy – but it was jammed! Frantically he tugged at the lever time and time again but to no avail, it was stuck fast! Tommy only had one option left. He drew his pistol, covered his face with his arm and shot at the canopy. Shards of broken glass tore his flying jacket to ribbons, but he was free. With moments to spare he hurled himself from the plane just as the Messerschmitt’s guns opened up once more. The Spitfire exploded and crashed to the earth in pieces.

Tommy was now falling through the air, the ground rushing towards him, but he couldn’t risk opening his parachute too soon otherwise he’d be a sitting target for the Black Wolf’s guns. He knew the timing was critical; too soon and he’d be shot to pieces, too late and his chute wouldn’t slow him down in time. Either way, he was dead! He waited and waited and then, with only seconds to spare, he yanked on the ripcord sending the chute billowing up into the air and slowing his descent, but he’d left it too long. He hit the ground hard, breaking his left leg as he did. He lay there in agony but thankful he was still alive. Suddenly, he was aware of the Black Wolf’s plane circling overhead and realised he was a sitting duck if he spotted him. Using the smoke from the burning debris of his plane as a cover, he dragged himself to a ditch, rolled in and waited till his enemy had gone.

It was dark when finally emerged. In agony, he crawled over to the remains of his Spit, found a piece of wood among the wreckage and tied it to his leg as a splint. He then cut down a branch and fashioned it into a crutch. Then, through gritted teeth, he headed back to Blighty. Along the way he destroyed a complete squadron of enemy aircraft by setting fire to their fuel supplies; rescued twenty French resistance fighters pinned down in a trench by a German machine-gun by using some grenades he’d found in an abandoned tank, and blew up a tree which blocked a main road and forced a whole German battalion to change direction, straight into the hands of British and American troops where they had no choice but to surrender! He then jumped in a small boat and rowed back to England to a hero’s welcome where he was awarded the Victoria Cross by the King and carried shoulder-high through the streets of London.

As he lay in his warm, comfortable bed recovering, he heard a familiar voice.

Tommy!

He ignored the call; he had more important things on his mind.

Tommy Smith. Are you awake yet?!

Again, he ignored it; he was too busy thinking of how he could avenge the deaths of his brave friends and rid the world of the dreaded Black Wolf once and for all.

Well? the voice continued. You can’t lay there all day you know, Tom. I need to wash those sheets and I need you to run down to the shops for me. Do you hear?!

Tommy let out a deep sigh.

Yes, mum! he replied. I’m just getting dressed now. I’ll be down in a minute!

Tommy remained snuggled in the warmth of his blankets, looking up at the model Spitfires, Hurricanes and Messerschmitt 109’s hanging from his ceiling above his bed.

I’ll get you one day, Black Wolf. You see if I don’t! he whispered.

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Tommy finally arrived at the table to his favourite breakfast; two boiled eggs with buttered soldiers and toast with strawberry jam, all washed down with a mug of sweet tea.

So, what’s your plans for the school holidays because don’t think you’re spending most of your time in bed, young man? There’s plenty of jobs that need doin’ round the house if you’re gonna be under my feet all day. And don’t forget, I need you to run down to the shops!

It’s OK, mum; I’m going round to Howie’s this morning. We’ve got a homework project to do for the holidays.

You and that Howard, thick as thieves you two.

But he’s me best friend, mum. We always do everything together.

And don’t I know it. And it’s my, not me. Don’t they teach you anything at school?

As soon as breakfast was finished Tommy was out of his seat and putting on his shoes.

Now, here’s my shopping list and here’s a ten-shilling note. Make sure the bread’s fresh, there’s a nice mixture of spuds and the tomatoes are not too soft, and don’t accept any bruised apples either, I want them nice and firm, and the bananas still a bit green.

Yes, mum, he said. Then he had a thought. Can I have a go at the Lucky Dip barrel please?

How much?

It’s only tuppence.

OK, but just one dip. We haven’t got money to waste on silly toys.

As far as Tommy was concerned there was nothing silly about the Lucky Dip barrel for there was something in there he desperately wanted. As he went to run out of the door he was suddenly grabbed by the collar.

Not so fast, young man. Look at the state of your hair! Did you brush it when you got up this morning? I bet you didn’t?

I did, mum, honest!

But it was too late. His mother grabbed a comb from the draw and proceeded to try to smarten him up. But whatever she did, his hair still looked a mess.

Never mind mum, I’m sure it will sort itself out later.

Oh no, you’re not going out like that, what would the neighbours think?

But before he could escape, a big dollop of Brylcreem was splattered on his head and worked into his hair until it was all shiny and flat, then neatly combed with a side-parting.

But, mum!

But, mum, nothing. I’m not having people say you’re scruffy. Now, keep those shorts clean, your socks pulled up to your knees and your shirt buttoned all the way up. And the sooner you get down the shops and back, the sooner you can get round Howie’s.

Tommy felt stupid. This was the school holidays. This was supposed to be the time when he didn’t need to look his best. This was supposed to be the time when he could run around in the fields, play football and cricket in the park, build a go-cart and whizz round the streets, fish for sticklebacks at Five-Mile Pond, climb trees, crawl through the bushes, play hide-and-seek amongst the ruins of Downland Hall, get dirty knees, have messy hair and, more importantly, train in the BRF!

The BRF, or British Resistance Force, was a secret organisation that was created to help fight an invading army. In the event of another war, its members, which actually were only Tommy and Howie, would lay booby-traps, record troop movements, create diversions, steal weapons, disable trucks, locate secret bases and, if need be, fight the enemy hand-to-hand, just like their hero Captain Hurricane in the Valiant comic. He was a rough, tough Royal Marine Commando who fought the Germans and the Japanese in the Second World War. And to two eleven-year-old boys, he was their hero.

The secret HQ of the BRF was hidden deep in Blackfriars Forest, which is where they did most of their training. Here, they would take it in turns to be a sentry and see if the other could creep up silently and attack them, or they would hide and ambush the other as they walked past, or they would storm a German stronghold and take out the enemy, just like Captain Hurricane. They even tried to teach themselves Judo from a book Howie had borrowed from his older brother. But not today. Today, Tommy had to run an errand to the shops for his mum.

He opened the front door slowly and looked around to make sure there was nobody about. Then he ran to the shops as fast as he could, hoping he didn’t run into any of his school friends. He whizzed around the bakers and greengrocers in double quick