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Castle Wolfenstein 1.3

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Escape from Castle Wolfenstein – Chapter 3

“You have no chance of escaping!”

The voice echoed across the courtyard and reached BJ’s ears. It was the German Commander of Castle Wolfenstein – the notorious Major Wilhelm Jürgen, whom Blazcowicz had been told about at the briefing before he was sent to Germany. He was speaking in English, but with a sharp and very clear German accent.

Major Wilhelm Jürgen was a sadistic officer, who was known to be enormously selfish. He was the one who had given Castle Wolfenstein the reputation it deserved. He showed no mercy to enemies and prisoners nor to his own troops.
The Major was a very well educated man and was a cool, deducting personality – as cunning as he was ruthless.

“We have you surrounded! Why not just cooperate with us? We all want the war to end as soon as possible you know”
To Hell with them! I know what “cooperating” with these guys means BJ thought, gritting his teeth and pulled out a “potato masher” – a German hand grenade, which he had stolen from a small guard house near the prison dungeon. The grenade basically looked like a can on a stick.
He could hear the footsteps below him getting closer. He primed the grenade and hurled it down the stairs.
Blazcowicz could hear the metallic clanking sounds as the grenade bounced and rolled down the stairs and several surprised yells in German reached his ears from beneath.
A loud explosion rocked the tower and BJ heard screams from the soldiers below him. He quickly rushed down the stairs and almost bumped into a soldier who was leaning to the cold wall. The soldier’s face was distorted in agony and a large, bloody wound marked where his arm had been.
Blazcowicz kicked the man in the face, sending him crashing further down the stairs, and continued running, ignoring the dead bodies of German soldiers lying about.


“He must be here somewhere! Find him!” Major Jürgen roared. The guards ran to and fro, looking everywhere for the wayward American, but Jürgen’s second-in-command soon went up to the Major.
“Herr Major, we can’t find him! We have searched everywhere, but there’s no trace”
The Major’s eyes narrowed into two thin lines. His voiced was barely audible when he uttered his command.
“Keep some guards around and bring the dogs!”


“No worries Müller, the Major has just ordered that the dogs be brought in. They can sniff up the American in no time and then he’s ours again”
The soldier stood with his back turned on his comrade and looked at the search parties.
A muffled clank made the guard turn halfway around. He saw a round, metallic object lying in the shadow at the wall.
With a thrill of horror, the soldier realized that this object was a helmet with a severed head inside it! His comrade’s decapitated head.
The nazi froze in his tracks. The headless corpse of his comrade lay before his feet. Müller had been alive just a minute ago when he had told the other soldier how he was hoping that they would soon find the escaped prisoner so that he could get some sleep and now he was dead without the other guard having heard anything. What could have decapitated him like that?

The German guard was given no opportunity to think more about it when all of a sudden, a suit of armor came alive, swung its bloodstained sword at the demoralized soldier and chopped off the guard’s head. The head sailed in a tight arc and bounced off of the floor with a wet thud. A surprised expression was frozen on the guard's head.

BJ carefully climbed out of the suit without making too much noise and gathered the ammunition from the two headless soldiers.

Well, if they bring in the dogs, it’ll be worst for the dogs he thought grimly. BJ hated big dogs.

A guard suddenly appeared out of nowhere, raising his submachine gun, but Blazcowicz reacted faster than the guard and sprayed a swarm of bullets at him. The perforated guard fell down the stairs he had come from, rolling down like a lifeless doll. BJ heard shouts in German and the first guards came rushing into the large room only to be mowed down by the spy’s carefully aimed bursts. A door behind him suddenly opened up and BJ spun around, emptying his magazine into the group of Germans crowded behind the door.

Gritting his teeth, he quickly ran inside as more guards appeared on the staircase, opening fire in his direction.
“He’s over here!” the nearest guard shouted, but in the next instant, a barrage of bullets from the door opening where the American prisoner had just disappeared through, turned his yell into a gargle and he fell back into the advancing soldiers, stalling their advance.
BJ sent a few more bursts at the guards, forcing them to retreat further back and ran down the hallway.

He could hear dogs bark off in the distance and he knew that the dogs had just been unleashed and on his trail.


Major Jürgen sat down at his desk and swored. Damn communication problems! He thought to himself.
The weather had been blocking all communication to and from Castle Wolfenstein the whole morning as well as the noon and was still preventing any messages from being sent. The Major leaned back in his chair. The awful blaring of the alarm in the kitchen didn’t help to ease his nerves.
The dogs will find that prisoner and we’ll have him shot! He thought to himself, trying to reassure himself.

He sensed a movement in front of him and looked up.

The prisoner was standing a few feet away from the Major’s table. The sight of the man was frightening. His dark clothes were filthy and stubble adorned his rough face. The prisoner looked very hardened and there was barely any trace of emotion in his narrow eyes. He looked like he was born only to kill.

The Major’s jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed at the gruff man. The American was pointing an MP40 submachine gun directly at Jürgen and showed every sign of wanting to shoot him on the spot.

“H..how did you g..get here!” Jürgen stuttered in English.
The man smiled briefly, but the smile was everything but pleasant. “Nothing like a good machine gun to remove annoying obstacles like guards and dogs don’t you think?” the man said in fluent German. The eyes of the Major widened even more.

The man pulled the trigger.

A clearly audible click was all that could be heard. The machine gun had jammed.

The Major’s expression changed from deep shock to a wide, evil smile, whereas the American gritted his teeth in anger.
“Nice try” Jürgen said, reaching for his pistol at his side. “But your little game ends here!”

The Major’s hand had barely touched the stock of his Lüger, when the prisoner suddenly threw the sub machinegun into Jürgen’s face, knocking him backwards and before the Major could recover, the man pulled out a pistol from his belt at an incredible speed and emptied four bullets into the German officer’s chest.

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