A/N: As of Friday I thought Inglrourious Basterds was going to be the stupidest movie ever made, and I ended up watching it saterday and LOVED it. I have to say, I was very disturbed with how much I like Hans Lands, a man so much older than me not to mention an S.S officer! lol... I watched the movie twice in a row lol, and I never like movies this much.
Anyway, I hopeyou like this. Please review. I have about half of the second chapter written, and reviews show me that people have interest and it makes me write faster. :-) ...
And half my family is Jewish, so I dont want anyone to think by writing this I condone what the Nazi's did or that I have anything against Jews. I would be hating half my family lol
PLEASE REVIEW!! I write very fast when I am inspired.
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"Please, Please come in Colonel." Said her uncle in German. She stood in the back of the room anxiously. She didn't even speak French very well, let alone German, but she could pick up small phrases. She had come to France to visit her aunt and uncle before the war had started, and now, she was trapped. There was no way she could get out of the country until the German occupation was at an end.
The colonel stepped into the house and she watched his blue eyes scan the floor. Emily looked to her aunt and cousins and only saw fear in their eyes. This must be him then. The Jew Hunter. His eyes darted back to her uncle and he smiled. "Thank you, Monsieur. French will be easier for you no doubt?" He asked and her uncle nodded. "Alas, my French is not what I would like it to be. Do you speak English?" He asked and her uncle Marcel nodded.
"Good." He said in English. "May we sit?" He asked, sweeping an arm toward the table.
"Oui. Mmm, Yes." Marcel said and took a seat at the table. The colonel sat down and opened his suitcase taking out a thick file.
"You know who I am, Yes?" The colonel asked and his eyes landed on Emily. His eyebrows scrunched together a moment and he looked at the files.
"Yes, I do. You are Colonel Hans Landa of the S.S."
"Wundabar!" The colonel said and clapped his hands together once. His eyes once again fell to Emily and back to the file. "Now, in my files of your family I have you, Marcel Fournier, your wife, Adele, your two daughters, Alavda and Belle and your son, Arnett." He paused and looked at everyone in the room. "Now that is three women, and in this room there are four." He said and looked at Marcel, waiting for an explanation.
"My niece, Emily is with us." Marcel said motioning to Emily.
"And where is she from?" He asked and scribbled on the file. "And her full name?" Marcel hesitated and looked at Emily who stood frozen. Her breathing grew heavy and Arnett stood next to her, stepping in front of her subconsciously.
"Emily Maria Bernardi." He said softly.
"Italian?" He asked looking at her. It would make sense. She had chocolaty brown hair and dark brown eyes.
"American." Marcel said choking on his words. The colonel looked over at her and a small smile graced his lips.
"American? In France?" He asked. Marcel went to speak but the S.S officer held up his hand. "Let your darling niece speak please."
"I came in 1938 to visit my family. The German occupation has kept me from returning home." She said. Would he have her killed? She was a civilian right. Even though she belonged to the Allies, they wouldn't kill her right?
"I see. Age?" He asked as he wrote on the file.
"Twenty three sir." She said and felt her mouth go dry. He smiled at her and looked back to Marcel.
"Now that, that is over. Back to business. Do you know why I am here?" He asked with raised eyebrows. He certainly didn't look like a cold blooded killer. But then, none of the Nazi's really did.
"You think I am hiding Jews."
"And are you?" He asked and stared at Marcel intensely, all charm and smiles gone from his face. Marcel hesitated and took a deep intake of breath and Landa smiled. "I take that as a yes." He paused a moment and heard nothing. "I am guessing that either they do not speak English or they are being hidden elsewhere."
"They do not speak English." Marcel whispered.
"It is very good of you to share this information with me. Your family will not be harmed." He said and stood. "They are in the basement I presume? Or under the floorboards?" Marcel shook his head.
"We hollowed out the walls."
Emily felt her stomach churn violently. Tears prickled at her eyes as she looked toward the wall the Jewish strangers were hiding in. When she looked back to the colonel she saw him staring at her. His eyes then went to the wall she had been staring at and he rose.
"I would like your family to step out of the house please." The Colonel said and Marcel looked to his wife, who quickly motioned for the children to leave. Emily walked out of the house and looked back at the Colonel who had risen. As they stepped out of the house Emily saw the Colonel motion for the soldiers waiting outside before he began speaking loudly and cheerfully in French.
Emily watched the soldiers enter the house and closed her eyes. She felt a sob escape her and felt her oldest cousin, Arnett wrap his arms around her. She cried into his chest and waited. The two girls were to young to understand what was going on, and her aunt stood stony faced as she waited for the gun shots.
When the roar of bullets ripped through the home the two girls began to cry loudly. Arnett and Emily pulled apart to comfort them and tell them everything was ok. The German soldiers are marched out of the house and headed for the trucks. The colonel walked out with Emily's frighteningly pale uncle. The colonel himself looked fine, with a neutral expression on his face, neither sad, nor especially happy with himself.
"You and your family may return to your home with the thanks of the German Government." The colonel said with a smile. They all began to move to re enter the house which was torn apart with bullets. Just as Emily was going to join the rest of her family she felt the strong grip of a hand on her arm. She turned around to look up at the Colonel and her knees buckled.
His eyes stared at her intensely and his expression was stony. After a few bone chilling moments her smiled. "I am sorry, Monsieur but I must bring your niece in to questioning."
"She has done nothing wrong!" Marcel cried.
"Oh, of that I have no doubt. I just need to ask her a few questions." His grip on her arm tightened and she fought from trembling.
"You can ask her questions here! With us."
"No. At my head quarters in Paris." He pronounced Paris like a Frenchmen would. "Now, miss, please come with me. Monsieur, I will bring her back to you after we have proven her innocence."
"Innocent of what! What have I been accused of!" Emily cried out, trying to pull away from the colonel.
"Lower your voice, and change you tone." He snapped and Emily quieted. A smile returned to his face and Emily buckled in fear. The colonel bid farewell to her family and gently nudged her toward the truck. She stood still, and when he sensed the resistance he tugged on her arm and she fell against him. He didn't once break his long, meaningful strides.
Her breasts were pressed against the side of his body and the warmth of his body enveloped her. He kept walking, silently taking notice in the look of awe on her youthful face. She was pushed into the back of the truck that had two other soldiers in it. They were quickly ordered out and The colonel himself stepped inside with her.
The Jew Hunter sat down next to her and revealed a black bag. "I hope you don't mind. It's policy." He said and placed it over her head. She began to tremble and felt tears leak at her eyes. Was this it. Was she going to be killed. She knew the Nazi's didn't tell the truth. He could be bringing her to her death right now. But, why hadn't he killed her back at the house. Or the moment he found out she was an American.
A small sob escaped her lips and she felt a warm hand placed on her knee. "Oh, sh sh sshh." He said gently and moved closer to her. She could see nothing, and heard nothing other than her own heavy breathing. The only thing she felt was his scorching hot hand on her knee. She heard the bench creak and soon felt the warmth of his body closer to her. "I do not with to hurt you." He said. "Just tell me the truth of everything I ask you and you will be fine."
She managed to stay quiet and soon she felt his hand slip from her knee. "I don't understand. I don't know anything. I'm from the suburbs of up state New York." She whimpered. What she could not see because of the black bag over her face was the way his eyes drank in her small, curvy form. His eyes came to stay on her heaving chest.
The truck bumped along the country road and Emily did her best to keep her tears at bay. "I assure you, if you are innocent, you will not be harmed." He said in a comforting tone. "Do you mind if I smoke my pipe?" He asked and Emily shook her head.
"How could you just kill them? They had done nothing wrong." She whimpered. She heard a rustle of fabric. Him crossing his legs probably. He sighed deeply.
"You are probably right, but I have a job to do. I follow orders. Find the Jews or other enemies of the state. And yes, I can do with them as I please, but really, would you rather I let them live?"
"Of course!" She cried. The Colonel sighed again and she felt the heat of his body against her again.
"I do not believe you understand. Do you know what would have happened to those Jews had I just arrested them?"
"They'd go to jail?" She said weakly.
"Oh, my naive little girl." He said sadly. "They would have gone to a camp. I assume you have heard of Auschwitz?" She nodded. "And you have heard stories of the camp?" Another nod. "Now tell me, My darling, would you rather that I have sent them to a camp? To be worked to death or gassed?" She stayed still as he moved closer, his lips closer to her ear now, and his voice dropped. "Why make them suffer longer than necessary? You see my darling girl, I had them killed yes, but by doing so, I did them a favor. One that many in the S.S do not believe they would deserve."
"I guess." She said, tears leaking from her eyes in fat blobs. "The boy was so young." He clicked his tongue sympathetically.
"I know, I know. But it was a necessary evil. A slow, agonizing, tortuous death in Auschwitz or a quick bullet to the head?" She nodded. "See! I am not all bad." He said excitedly.
"I still don't understand why you need me."
"Just to ask a few questions about the current state of the United states, both economically and of the moral of the country. Simple enough. Based on our little chat I can rule out you having anything to do with the Basterds. You are far to sweet and naïve." He said and she felt a squeeze to her knee.
"The Inglorious Basterds?"
"Hmm?" He asked in a serious tone.
"That's what they are called by the people of France. The people who kill those Nazi's right?"
"Inglourious." he said and was silent a moment. "This will be more appropriate another time." He said softly. He seemed distracted.
"When-" She was cut off when she felt his hot hand encircle her arm. "Colonel-" Suddenly felt a needle slide into her skin.
"Just relax." He said and she felt heat spread from her arm throughout the rest of her body. "Go to sleep." He said and Emily felt her eyelids grow heavy. "Don't fight it." He whispered against the bag, close to her ear. That was the last thing she remembered before she sagged against the hard warm body next to her and fell asleep.