4. Prey
The lieutenant spat on the ground when a bitter taste he suddenly felt in his mouth became unbearable.
'Whose bright idea was it?' he snapped for formality's sake, even though he had already known the answer.
'Mine.'
Stiglitz said it without even batting an eyelid and Aldo gave him a dirty look before he cast another glance at the other side of the clearing, where a blonde-haired girl was sitting on the grass in a position that could hardly be comfortable, with her hands tied at the back and her legs pulled up. But she did nothing to change this pose, just stayed motionless where Hirschberg had left her.
Her skirt was ridden up – either by accident or not – exposing her tights, naked, most likely covered with goosebumps, yet quite literally bathed in gold. In gold-like glitter of the fire. And shapely enough to catch Aldo's attention for a moment.
She was shivering, but whether it was with cold or fear he could not tell.
Not that he gave a damn.
He spat once again, as if on second thoughts. Goddammit!
Right, he might have had his doubts about putting Stiglitz – and not Donny – in charge of this mission, but his dilemma had come down to one fundamental question. Whether his German sergeant would precisely follow the orders he had finally agreed to follow. Or change his mind and kill Hellstrom on the spur of the moment, when his bad instincts prevailed. When his thirst for revenge became irresistible.
That was precisely what had bothered the lieutenant when he had been waiting for his men at the camp, with Utivitz and Kagan to keep him company. But, in all honesty, he had never expected them to return to their hideout with a prisoner – as if taking captives was an usual practice in their squad. With Hellstrom's wife Stiglitz had God knows what plans for. A blonde Nazi doll now scared shitless, too terrified to even move or look at them.
At least she was not crying or screaming, in fact she had not uttered a single sound of protest even when – on Aldo's orders – Hirschberg had brutally pulled her out of the truck and dragged her to the clearing, finally pushing her to the ground with evident pleasure.
'Let's say I consider her a part of my spoils.' Stiglitz's voice was still calm and firm, but there was a hint of amusement to it and Aldo eyed him irritably.
'Spoils!' he gave a short, mirthless laugh. 'Couldn't you choose something smaller? More convenient? Easier to handle?'
'She's sufficient' Stiglitz replied calmly and it was precisely the moment when his smirk began to get on Aldo's nerves.
'And what are you going to do with her, Hugo?' he hissed impatiently. 'Fuck her? Kill her? Cut her? Sharpen your knife against her skin?'
The German just gave him a piercing look the lieutenant had got used to a long time ago. 'I haven't decided yet,' he said impassively.
'So you haven't decided yet,' Aldo's drawl was deliberately pronounced, an evident manifestation of his growing irritation, but Stiglitz seemed not to notice that at all, his expression detached and annoyingly calm.
'When are you going to decide?' the lieutenant barked, his gaze going back to the girl.
Honestly, if it had been Donowitz's initiative, he would have done his best to chew the old rascal out properly. Once and for all. Enough to knock any stupid ideas out of his head.
But it was Stiglitz and in a way that was hard even to explain the German sergeant's status in the squad was special. Extraordinary. As if he was not one of Aldo's soldiers, but a kinda military adviser. A Nazi expert. A special affairs officer, even if these affairs included highly inventive methods of killing his own country men.
'Soon,' came a clipped reply as Stiglitz was apparently going to try his patience even more, and Aldo clenched his teeth.
'Can you just tell me why the hell you brought her here at all?'
'Revenge.' Stiglitz held his gaze unblinking.
'Revenge you say?' There was no surprise in the lieutenant's tone; he was even glad that they finally came to the crux of the matter. 'But why the fuck take her here? You had enough time to have your way with her in front of Hellstrom,' he paused for a moment before he added in sudden irritation. 'And slit her throat right after you finished.'
'I thought about that.' Stiglitz twisted his lips into a malevolent smile. 'But that would be too simple. And I'm not going to make it too easy for Dieter. Wanna give him something to think about when he's recovering in hospital.' His smile widened. And seemed more unpleasant. 'I had a nice chat with him before we left.'
'And?' Aldo winced impatiently when the pause became too long. Much too long for his liking.
'Told him I'd take care of his wife. Keep her for a while,' Stiglitz threw a quick glance at the girl. 'He didn't like it.'
'Revenge,' the lieutenant said after a while, 'can be simple. Prompt. Easy. Does not require unnecessary complications. Or sophisticated plans. In the end a bullet in the head can be just as effective.'
Stiglitz did not comment, did not reply at all, but the answer was written all over his face, and Aldo grimaced when it became obvious that they would not reach any agreement in that respect. That any agreement could not be reached.
'I'm not going to cart a Nazi bitch around with me, unless you give me a good reason to do this,' he spat out. 'A good reason for us all.'
'A good reason?' Stiglitz's lips twisted into a devilish smile again. 'The same as always. Propaganda. They'll fear us even more when it becomes clear that even their women are not safe from us. That we can easily take their officer's wife and do with her whatever we please. And they can do nothing to stop us.'
The lieutenant did not reply, undoubtedly considering this option, and the German decided to strike while the iron was still as hot as hell.
'Think of these dumb, lazy Nazi sluts that consider themselves immune, safe in their houses, behind their husbands' backs. Now they will fear us more than devils.'
Aldo's eyes lit up momentarily, but his involuntary smile faded almost at once.
'There will be problems with her,' he voiced what his common sense told him and shot another glance at the girl, who was still sitting motionless on the grass. And drew his gaze like a fucking magnet, bringing back some memories. Quite nice memories indeed. Of a brothel they had come across two months ago. Of a woman whose name he did not even know. Of the play of light and shadow on her skin so soft and smooth that his rough fingers had felt strange on it. Completely out of place.
'She won't cause problems,' Stiglitz followed his gaze. 'And if she does, I'll make her regret it faster than she can say "Heil Hitler". She'll follow the rules.'
Aldo clenched his teeth, feeling his arguments running out, which in fact happened quite frequently during his conversations with Stiglitz. And he still did not like the idea. Not at all.
'Yeah, but we'll have to feed her.' He decided to resort to economical reasons, but the German shrugged dismissively.
'She won't eat much. Really.'
'Still…,' the lieutenant hesitated for a moment, his gaze travelling to the girl again and then to Donowitz, who was sitting near the fire, smoking a cigarette. And not taking his eyes off her. Then to Hirschberg and Kagan, who seemed to be occupied with sorting supplies, but the furtive glances they shot at the captive told another story.
'I'll take care of her.' Stiglitz seemed to be reading his mind. To a great extent.
'You'd better do.' Aldo's eyes flashed dangerously. 'The boys are kinda starved. Don't wanna them to act around her like a bunch of fucking animals. I'll tell them to stay away from her right now, but I can't really guarantee anything. It's better to keep her away.' He ran his eyes over the girl's figure again. 'Unless your revenge plan includes any help from them.'
'I'll keep her in my tent,' Stiglitz's voice had not changed a bit, still irritatingly calm. On the verge of being bored. 'Don't worry, you won't see much of her.'
'Perfect,' Aldo gave him a lopsided smile. 'Aren't you afraid she'll try to kill you and run away when the first opportunity arises?'
Stiglitz smirked. 'She's already had such plans. But I persuaded her not to follow them.'
'You persuaded her?' the lieutenant laughed it off, but then suddenly grew serious, pondering over something for a while.
'She'll be your responsibility, Hugo. Have your revenge if that's what you need, but remember why we are here. I don't want you to be occupied with her more than necessary. Is it clear?'
'Sure,' Stiglitz replied automatically, but then he noticed the commander's serious expression and they eyed each other for a moment before the German smiled imperceptibly.
'Yes, sir,' he finally said.
'Alright,' the lieutenant's face twitched in a grimace that did not really express approval, but a frown on his face disappeared almost completely. 'So we'll keep her here for a while. But first I wanna talk to her. Donny says she can speak English. Is it true?'
Astrid flinched when she saw them move towards her, which in all probability meant that they had finished talking. Debating about her fate. Scraps of their conversation that had reached her were not quite understandable – or perhaps she was not able to understand them – but from the way their voices occasionally got louder and sharper she could guess they did not quite agree on something. Whether it was good or bad – or rather bad or worse as these were the only two options left – she could not really say.
She was chilled to the bone; the wet blouse was unpleasantly clinging to her body, but that did not really matter. The chill of the night had eventually waken her up, snapped her out of numbness she had fallen into some time ago, on their way to the camp, when it had become obvious that no miracle, no miraculous saviour could get her out of their clutches and fear enveloped her like a too-tight dress, paralysing her so much that she was not even able to think logically. To find any way out of the horror.
It was all like a dream, a surrealistic sequence of nightmares that had begun in the study and got worse with every minute. The sight of Dieter's battered, bloodied – yet still breathing –body had terrified her so much that she had burst into tears quite against herself. Against her better judgement. Against her actual feelings for him. And he had seen it – his eyes were opened when Stiglitz brought her there so that – as he had said – she could say goodbye to her husband. So that the Gestapo major could see her hysteric outburst, her exemplary reaction to what they had done to him.
And she had done well. So well that Stiglitz had to drag her into the corridor, when her legs buckled and she paled so much that the danger of her fainting became quite real. He forcibly sat her down on the floor, while the others were plundering the apartment.
It took her a while to understand questions they asked about any weapons and food, about jewellery and money. Yet she answered them all, for a moment hoping that after they robbed the flat of whatever they could lay their hands on, they would leave her alone. Of course she was wrong.
Stiglitz had told her no lies about his other men waiting outside; three of them were lurking in the shadows at the gate, dressed in familiar German uniforms, armed with machine guns she knew they had taken from Dieter's guards. Having slit their throats first.
They had thrown the bodies aside and when she caught a glimpse of what was left from Johann, one of the guards, a nice boy from Berlin she had – almost – been friends with, she burst into tears again. And it took not only Stiglitz's warning words but also a touch of his knife on her ribs to silence her. The rain muffled her last sobs as he was dragging her across the street to the truck waiting under the trees. But it was merely the beginning.
The horror of travelling at the back of the truck was even worse, when she was sitting among them in her clothes wet from the rain, thrown onto the dirty floor together with the things they had robbed from the apartment. She instinctively cowered away, moved to the corner, feeling their hostile glances, hearing their filthy comments and derisive laughter.
Stiglitz was not there; he was travelling in the driver's cabin and he had left her with the others, making one of the men responsible for her. That is, for her discomfort and indignity. The man, the boy in fact, only scowled at her as they were going down the road and then he did not react at all when Donowitz unceremoniously gripped her arm to draw her closer, running his hand up her thigh, which made her cry and struggle without success and gave the others a good reason to laugh.
Help came from the least expected side – one of them barked at the Bear Jew to leave her alone and, miraculously, it worked. Donowitz returned to his previous place, still laughing, but he did not try to lay a finger on her again. And after what seemed to be an eternity Astrid risked a cautious glance at the man who had prevented whatever could result from that, but she looked away at once, meeting his stern eyes.
'You! Get up!'
The voice that broke through her reverie did not belong to Stiglitz and she slowly raised her head to look at them, but did not even try to raise herself and the man, their commander as she guessed, gave her an angry glare. Yet he did not repeat his command; he gestured at her instead and Stiglitz grabbed her arm and pulled her up to her feet, dragging her closer to the fire, the other man following them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Donowitz getting up and she trembled at the thought of him moving any closer to her. But, surprisingly, he kept his distance.
Their commander looked her up and down slowly, his gaze stopping at her breasts for a moment long enough to let her know that he could see her nipples under the wet material of the blouse and she blushed violently. And her hands clenched into fists in a helpless rage.
'My name's Lt. Aldo Raine,' he announced, his voice emanating with the same arrogance she had already seen on his face. 'I guess you've heard of me and the Basterds.'
She nodded stiffly, when he paused for effect and he let out a snort of content.
'Glad to know that. Saves me much time and trouble to explain to you why exactly we are so famous among your people. So now that we are half-way through introductions, I need to know your name,' he drawled casually, but in spite of the lightness of his tone she could see a threat in his eyes. And a considerable amount of loathing he did not try to hide. 'So what's you name?'
She almost whispered the answer and he snorted impatiently.
'I can't hear you,' he smiled at her coldly. 'Either you speak up or I'll tell my men to check how loud you can be.'
'Astrid,' she stuttered out.
'Astrid,' he repeated and the corners of his lips twitched in a contemptuous grimace. 'Ain't it nice? Astrid Hellstrom, right? The Nazi major's wife?'
She stiffened at his last words and averted her eyes in sudden fear.
'I'm really pleased to meet you, Astrid,' he smiled nastily when she looked at him again. 'Welcome to our camp. Hope you'll enjoy your stay. You must know that we have great plans for you.'
She blinked before her gaze moved down and it was when she froze once more, her eyes fixed on a thick line visible on his neck, just above the black scarf he was wearing. At first she thought it was just an effect of poor light, a shadow, or her imagination. But it was a scar, a horrible remainder of something she was not even able to think about at that very moment. Or to guess how he had been able to survive whatever had left the scar.
And he knew exactly what had caught her attention as he gave a short laugh.
'You're quite observant. Quite smart,' he looked at her mockingly. 'That's really nice. Right now I don't have time for that, but tomorrow we'll talk about your husband,' he promised. 'You're probably aware of some interesting details of his professional career. People he's killed under interrogation. Or those he's sent to concentration camps.'
Her lips parted in surprise and she looked up at him in disbelief, in horror, while he was staring at her coldly, sneeringly.
'You didn't know that? Didn't know what was a part of his job?'
'I…' she looked at him vacantly and for a second her eyes moved to Stiglitz helplessly.
'I see,' the lieutenant nodded in mock concern. 'No idea at all. Maybe you're just like the other German women. Only kids, kitchen and church and this is what you're used to, right?' I'm sure we can arrange something that may suit your needs. Except maybe for church,' he smiled nastily. Really nastily. 'But we'll give you the reasons to pray quite often.'
'My family…' she suddenly began, her voice shaking terribly, no matter how much she wanted it to sound firm, 'my family will pay you if you let me go.'
They exchanged looks and the man in front of her snorted with laughter.
'Really?' he raised an eyebrow and his lips stretched in a parody of a smile. But his eyes were still cold. Ice-cold. 'And who exactly will pay for you? Your husband?'
She swallowed hard. 'My father.' That sounded even more pathetic. Like a faint groan.
'Your father?' the commander now looked amused as if she was telling a good joke. 'Well, nice to hear that. We didn't really plan it, but maybe we'll pay him a visit,' he once again exchanged glances – and smirks – with Stiglitz. 'To talk about a good price for you. Provided that you are still worth something when we finish with you.'
She cringed once. And again, when his hand shot towards her, when she was absolutely positive that he would hit her – even surprised that it was not his intention – and she yanked her head only once when he took hold of her chin, but his warning scowl made her freeze. He studied her face with an absolutely detached expression.
'You did it?' he asked Stiglitz, gesturing at her cheek.
'No. That's Dieter's hallmark. It seems that our lady was rather unhappily married.'
'So she's used to rough handling,' Aldo's eyes met hers with no empathy at all. 'That's good. That's really good.'
He let go of her chin and she almost glared at him. Almost, as her instinct warned her against it, but he must have sensed her intention, as his eyes bore into hers again.
'There are certain rules you must obey here. No disobedience. No questions. No irritating noises. We don't take kindly to shouting or screaming. Is it clear?' he barked.
'Yes,' the reply came after a moment of silence and she was wondering if it was really her voice, her speaking.
But the man in front of her seemed satisfied and he cast a glance at Stiglitz.
'She'd better change her clothes. We don't want Hellstrom's wife to catch a cold in our custody,' he gave her a teasing smile. 'Take her to your tent, Hugo. And make sure she didn't miss anything from our little chat.'
Stiglitz only smirked before he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the edge of the clearing where some big military tents were set among the trees, half-hidden behind the bushes and hardly visible in the dark.
His was the last in the row, flanked by two trees and located at the edge of their little camp, just behind the circle of faint light, and her eyes nervously scanned the area, though she could not really see much through the darkness around.
And he did not give her much time to admire the views. He pushed her – neither gently nor too brutally – into the tent and for a moment she stood helplessly in the complete blackness before he lit a lantern, then another, and a dim light filled up the tent. Then he gestured at a large mattress covered with blankets.
'Sit down' he barked at her and she obeyed at once, looking around, taking in every detail, though there was not much to see except for a place to sleep, a makeshift table with some papers on it, a metal bowl put on a wooden support, and several bags and parcels the contents of which she could not guess. Her eyes spotted a rifle in the corner and she quickly looked away, afraid that he could see her what had drawn her attention.
But he seemed to ignore her, as if she was just a part of equipment, a part of furnishings, and he went on his usual routines, completely undisturbed by her presence, though her eyes followed his every movement and she was sure he could feel her gaze.
He came to the bowl, washed his face, and reached out for a towel. Unhurriedly, as if she was not there.
When he took off his shirt she got tense, alarmed, but it was only when he turned around that she gave a gasp, both startled and shocked. His back was covered with scars, thick purple lines carved into his skin irreparably, from the nape of his neck down to his waist. And all of them looked to have healed badly.
'Enjoying the view?' he asked acidly, not even turning to face her, and she averted her eyes at once, even closed them for a moment, suddenly so scared – so irrationally terrified – that she did not even hear him approaching until he was right in front of her, his eyes hard and hostile.
'Turn around,' he commanded harshly, but she only recoiled in horror and he let out a sharp, impatient hiss, pushing her onto the mattress.
When he leaned over her she uttered a strange muffled sound that changed into a squeal as he turned her over onto her stomach, cursing under his breath at her pathetic attempts to struggle free.
'Don't scream and don't move,' he growled warningly, pressing her face into the blanket for an instant, and she gave in even before she heard him chuckle.
'Good girl,' his fingers wrapped around her wrists and she gave a groan of pain, feeling the rope dig into her skin even more.
'Now I'm gonna get rid of your bonds for a moment,' he informed her. 'Don't try anything stupid or I'll cut your fingers off.'
She did not move, just waited motionless until he finished and her arms fell to the sides, stiff and aching. Only then did she try to sit up. To rub her wrists, burning as hell.
But he did not let her. He simply pushed her back onto the mattress and before she had time to react he ran his hand over her back up to her neck, brushing her skin slowly, absentmindedly, and she froze again, her fear suddenly returning, her breath coming from her in short bursts.
'I've heard that Donny didn't quite keep his hands off you on the truck,' he started, shifting forward to reach her ear and she cowered in terror, closing her eyes as she felt his breath on her cheek. 'You missed me then, didn't you? You wish I'd been there with you? Protect you from them?' he teased with a smirk she knew was there, even though she could not see it, while his fingers were still caressing her neck, stroking her skin.
She bit down hard on her lower lip not to sob, her fear of him now close to panic, but he suddenly got up, leaving her numb, exhausted, unable to move.
'Are you sleeping there?' he snarled impatiently. 'Sit up.'
She slowly, carefully did as he had told her, rubbing her wrists mechanically.
'That's better,' he admitted and she looked at him again. Stunned. Confused about what he wanted and a familiar smirk flashed across his mouth.
'I'm afraid you must undress now,' he said. 'The commander wanted you to take off these wet clothes.'
She swallowed hard. Echoes of what Donowitz had said to her in her bedroom came flooding back, no matter how desperately she tried to suppress them.
'No need to worry,' Stiglitz sneered at her. 'There's nothing I haven't seen before. And if you're afraid I'm gonna fuck you right now, I must disappoint you. At the moment I'm not.'
She dropped her eyes and wrapped her arms around her knees unconsciously.
'But if you disobey me,' he continued, 'if you piss me off, if you don't cooperate, I may change my mind.'
'Cooperate?' she looked up at him apprehensively and his face twitched in a grimace of satisfaction.
'Tomorrow. We'll talk tomorrow, be sure. Now we must take care of your clothes. Undress. Now.'
He reached for one of the bags, going through its contents in haste until he pulled out what he had been looking for and threw her a red dress. Her dress, she realized at once and gave him a wary, questioning glance.
'Oh, yes,' he sneered again. 'It's yours. I borrowed this from your wardrobe. After all, you did quite well in front of Dieter. Hope he liked your performance as much as I did. So why not reward you with a nice dress to make you feel better?'
She glared at him for a second before she looked away and he gave a chuckle, evidently amused by her reaction. But his amusement did not last long.
'I've told you something,' he reminded her, a threatening edge to his voice. 'If I have to repeat myself, or wait any longer, I'll make sure you won't like the punishment.'
She took of her blouse and changed her clothes hurriedly, trying not to look at him, not to check if he was still staring at her. But when she finished, he was bending over the table with his back to her, removing some papers and she shot a glance at the entrance, which was not so far – not so unavailable – now that her hands were free. She got up to her feet without thinking.
'Going somewhere?' his voice pinned her to the spot before she could take a step and he approached her in no hurry.
'Maybe you still don't get it,' he smirked, 'but right now it's the safest place for you in the camp.'
'Safest?' she snapped before she could stop herself and averted her eyes in fear.
'Ironic, isn't it?' he cocked his head a bit, looking at her searchingly. 'But it's true. Going outside would be silly. Unless you want to taste Jewish vengeance firsthand. Who knows, maybe I should let you.'
'You told me…' she suddenly started, her voice hoarse and strange.
'Yes?' he asked in mock politeness.
'You told me I'd survive this,' she almost whispered.
A muscle in his otherwise expressionless face twitched and he gave her a strange look.
'I've never said anything like that,' he finally said and a smirk appeared on his face again. 'You must have misinterpreted our little chat.'
'However,' he added when she looked away. 'I must say that your chances of survival are quite good. The lieutenant didn't throw you to his men, though I'm sure he considered that. Didn't tell them to kill you, though he had such plans. Instead of eliminating you in a way he prefers he agreed on leaving you with me, at my questionable mercy,' he spoke in a casual, conversational manner. 'Which was by far the best option to offer to someone like you. And yes, I can tell you that you might survive this. If you do exactly what I tell you. And when I tell you.'
This time she held his gaze, studying his face, trying to see through him. Through this derisive façade.
'Why don't you,' she paused for a moment, feeling a lump in her throat, but ignoring it in sheer desperation, 'why don't you kill me right now?'
'Another commendable attempt at bravery,' he mocked, raising an eyebrow. 'The answer to this question is very simple. Because I need you.'
'To get your revenge on Dieter?' Her eyes widened for an instant before they narrowed in irritation. Barely controlled irritation. 'He couldn't care less.'
'That's where you're wrong,' he smiled. 'Now you should go to sleep. I'll need your full attention tomorrow.'
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Thanks to all of you who have read it, waited patiently for the next chapter, added this story to favourites, alerted it, and review it. Happy New Year to you, first of all.
I know it's been a while, but – believe it or not – November and particularly December was nothing but a series of unfortunate events for me and the last thing I could do or think about was to continue writing my stories. Hope the new year will be much much better, which I also wish you.
