SWITZERLAND: JANUARY, 1945—Captain Davis pushed his face through the brush and raised his binoculars. Elsewhere, the rest of his squad and their respective company crept slowly through the wintry undergrowth. For months now, the Allies squeezed and harried the Germans and slowly pressed into their homeland territory, but it seemed the Reich had some contingency plans. There it was, Davis spotted a large hangar door imbedded in the distant mountainside. ETO command was right about something: the Germans were up to something in the Swiss Alps, alright, right under the host country’s nose. The orders were simple: infiltrate enemy installation, eliminate hostiles, secure or destroy assets. Problem was, nobody seemed to know what kind of assets they had hiding in those mountains, Davis thought, somewhat indifferently.
With a quick gesture from the captain, Sergeant Hampton materialized his side. The captain directed his attention towards the facility a couple hundred meters away, and then outlined a plan of attack with more hand signals. In seconds, Hampton was whispering concise instructions to the radio operator; after another moment, the whole regiment would be ready for the impending assault.
A genius assault it would be, indeed. The American 713th Infantry Regiment had been granted an asset for the mission: a German Panzer operating out of the base, captured only a week before, and a hostage tank crew ordered at gunpoint to radio in their daily all-clear to boot. The lumbering vehicle, manned by a new crew, ground gravel underneath its treads as it progressed up the hidden, weathered road that lead up the valley. Meanwhile, a thousand infantrymen trudged silently towards the clearing in front of the hangar: a simple airstrip and radio station were the only structures not hidden within the mountains. The tank halted as a German sentry meandered over to clear it for entry. The top hatch was thrown open, and much to the hapless enemy’s surprise, a man in foreign military gear popped up and, pistol in hand, initiated the combat with a swift shot to the sentry’s chest. Before any the other defenders in sight could react, the gunner of the Panzer fired the turret gun, blowing a gaping, fiery hole into the hangar door.
A colossal rancor from the voices of incoming American infantrymen violently filled the whole valley. Countless men poured onto the flat from the hilltops and tree lines around the airfield. Some of the dumbstruck foe were overtaken immediately and felled by lucky rifle shots and the tank crew’s ferocity; the remainder quickly plunged into the hole in the doors for their lives. After only a couple minutes, the area was devoid of hostiles. Captain Davis permitted no hesitation, however. No time could be spared when the enemy could be scuttling whatever secrets they had hidden inside that facility. He bellowed instructions to his radio operator, “Tell the first through third companies to get the hell inside that place and clear it out now! Everybody else forms a perimeter around the compound—nothing comes in our out except our guys!” With his orders given, Captain Davis’ squad poured headlong into their breach.
The soldiers had not taken more than half a dozen paces into the dimly lit facility before shots rang off the walls of the large hangar they had entered. A few German soldiers entrenched themselves behind small tanks or automobiles in a feeble attempt at forming a rearguard. Hampton held his palm out behind him; on cue, someone slapped a grenade into his hand. The sergeant tore the pin with as much ferocity as he would remove a combat knife from a struggling enemy combatant and rolled the weapon behind the nearby trucks. With a resounding thump and some brief shrieks or pain, the resistance quickly crumbled. Meanwhile, dozens of other men swarmed into the facility behind them. Beyond the hangar lay a doorway to a labyrinth of corridors and passages. A few hallways led to light resistance, generally consisting of only a handful of German soldiers. The ambush had caught them utterly unprepared. A squad marched back to the troops outside; a dozen enemy soldiers fortunate enough to be discovered unarmed were escorted to the airstrip, but others were cut down by the sudden onslaught.
After several minutes of storming the passageways, Captain Davis and those under his command barged into a gargantuan hangar. A leviathan vehicle sat dormant, ready for use. Engines of equally enormous proportions were situated towards what seemed to be the rear. Three or floor rows of viewports revealed a number of floors composing the interior. A large, low-set module towards the front wrapped by thick windows seemed to denote a cockpit of sorts.
Davis wheeled around to find more men who had searched different corridors. “Sir, nothing interesting to rep—Oh my God,” one gasped as the magnitude of the sight finally occurred to him. With purposeful focus, he continued, “We didn’t find many anywhere else. Can’t be anywhere else they’re hiding but here.”
After a few confounded remarks of “Are they in there?” “What is this thing?” “I wonder what they’re planning,” had elapsed, Davis came to himself once more. “Alright, it’s just a big bomber, nothing special, see. There’s a boarding ramp right there. Everyone in!”
Several hundred men, nearly the entirety of the companies who entered the compound, were now boarding the vessel. The passageways aboard the vehicle were even narrower and dimmer than those of the base just raided. The thing seemed to be unoccupied, but not a single nook or cranny would go unsearched if I have anything to say about it, Davis mused.
Kicking down a light sliding door ten minutes later, a squad breached the entrance to the control room. Again, nobody was to be found in the room. Numerous control panels and seats lined the walls of the room. Nearly everything was powered on. After a few seconds of bewilderment, Davis became aware of a sound. Silencing the present troops, he slowly stalked the rows of instruments. The sound became clearer—the sound of ticking. The captain peered at the instrument panel in front of him. And what else should he have expected but a timer. It was ticking down, and less than half a minute to zero.
Eyes wide with shock and sudden panic, Davis bellowed “Get out of here! Go, go! I think it’s going to blow!” Fitting of the Germans to do that, he thought morbidly as his troops tried to squeeze through the doorway. It looks only a handful of men will be able to make it out in time. A dark day for the 713th infantry regiment this turned out to be.
His sullen thoughts were interrupted as the timer struck zero, commencing a shrill buzz. Elsewhere, the first troops had approached the boarding ramp when the vehicle lurched unexpectedly, knocking most of the men off their feet. The hangar outside filled with a great din as these soldiers witnessed the engines fire. Nearby, hydraulics hissed as the ramp raised itself up and sealed itself to the hull of the vehicle. There was no escape now.
A private who witnessed this quickly made his way over to Davis’ squad, yelling, “Captain! It’s no use, we’re sealed in! It’s… I think it’s taking off.”
Davis’ heart dropped into his stomach as he growled an unsavory curse. The mob of soldiers poured back into the bridge: perhaps there was some way to cancel the launch. As they frantically searched for salvation, the far hangar wall disintegrated to crumbling rock. The piles of rubble were lowered by an enormous, unseen lift. Even through the vessel’s thick, metal walls the sound outside was deafening as the engines roared. The vehicle accelerated, throwing bodies like ragdolls against the back walls of the halls and bridge. The breach leading outdoors grew larger and larger like a gaping maw. Within a minute, only the white overcast of the mountainous winter filled their vision. The ship was still accelerating, but the men somehow found themselves no longer pinned against the walls. Few used this freedom of unrestricted motion for purposes other than huddling or murmuring prayers to themselves. The sky started white, then turned clear blue, then darkened quickly. Davis wondered what the men outside must have thought after witnessing a gargantuan flying vehicle catapulted itself out of the side of a mountain.
The sky was black now; stars rapidly dotted the windows. Someone managed to shout “Look!” as he peered out a side viewport. There it was, Earth. A planet of green and blue and white swirled beneath them, shrinking continually as the men watched. They were the first to ever see such a sight, but for them, it was an image of utter horror, not beauty. Captain Davis combated total discouragement. There had to be some Germans on this vessel somewhere, his men hadn’t nearly the time for a thorough search before what happened, happened. Maybe, despite the animosity between the Germans and the Americans, negotiations could be struck for safe passage home, Davis began to rationalize. Yes, that’s what will happen, that’s what we’ll do—
A shudder rocked the ship, once again severing his train of thought. Davis’ mood swiftly shifted from disgruntled to alarmed, though, as he stepped back into the bridge. A pinkish, reddish cloud lay ahead, miasma crackling like blue lightning within. A small alarm blared from an instrument panel as the vehicles systems lost control; the ship was being pulled straight into the swirling vortex. Davis barked “Strap yourselves in, or hold on to something! This’ll get rough!” He was hoping that his men would relay his warning to those who had ascended ladders to upper floors. He was hoping that this precaution wouldn’t be wholly necessary, that this was a weird astronomical occurrence only a few scientists could explain to you. He hoped for deliverance. He hoped…
Hoped…
The ship rocked violently as it was engulfed in the storming rupture of spatial and temporal distortion.

LOCATION AND DATE UNKNOWN—Davis’ vision swam. What happened? Where are we going now? I don’t understand—a brief glance out of the windows revealed that understanding did not exist in the space just beyond the thick metal walls.