Disclaimer: CSI: NY and all the characters from the show are owned by CBS, Paramount, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuiker, and other people who are much more creative and wealthier than me. Any other characters are my own and resemblance to any other person is a pure coincidence. Well mostly. Probably. No wait, mostly.

As always, thank you all for the kind reception. Here is Chapter 9. Enjoy.

Chapter 9: Desperate Measures

The night air which used to be filled with all the tensions befitting a prisoner camp no longer has them. The Germans have relaxed their rigorous patrols and decreased the number of night guards. There is really no need to be so vigilant anymore. After all, the Americans haven't given them any trouble since Captain Kressing put them in their place. The Germans are practically giddy now. They know their country is in trouble in the wider war, but here at Camp Percival, they are on top.

At least, that is what Private Schrader thinks. A young soldier, Schrader is stuck this evening with one of the most boring jobs in the camp; guarding the garage. The only incident that has occurred in this place was when the American was caught trying to sabotage their jeeps. Captain Kressing, who Schrader admires as a tough commander, he set that American in place. Schrader walks to the end of the building and turns around, beginning to essential pace but mask it as marching. Maybe he'll get some schnapps when he gets off his shift.

Unfortunately for Private Schrader, he doesn't get the chance to complete his patrol. Something crashes into the back of his head, rendering the Private unconscious. Two hands grab his feet and drag him away.

***

I got lucky. The German didn't see me and it only took one hit to knock him out. I didn't want to kill him. If anyone dies during this, God knows what Kressing will do. Moving quickly, I take off the German's coat and put it over mine. I also take his cap. At a distance, and with only a sliver of a moon in the sky, I look like a German soldier.

Quietly, I head into the garage and find what I'm looking for, a priceless commodity for what I'm planning, an oil drum. Even luckier for me, the drum is not filled to the brim, making carrying it relatively easy.

I head out of the garage with the oil drum as fast as I can without making too much noise, avoiding spotlights and patrols. I planned this over a couple of days, going out at night to observe everything; when the patrols change shift, how many guards there are, even what night would have least amount of moonlight to better my chances at concealment. There is a reason for all this careful detail and planning; this is really my only shot at making this work. Not only does this need to work, but my men and Kressing need to know that is me who was behind this. I know I'm taking a huge gamble in trying to play with Kressing; the man is a monster, and if he has time to think of something instead of just react, it could be very bad.

But, I'll worry about that once this is done. Right now, I have to give the Germans a headache and cause a little chaos.

***

Back in his barracks, Danny Messer tries once again to fall asleep. Tonight, he is determined to rest and break the hold insomnia has over him. He has tried rationalizing to himself; they would have tried no matter what he said, he's still alive, there is still a chance, etc. He doesn't really believe it, but he finds that it is helping him at least get to sleep.

Messer is about to drift off to sleep when suddenly, a massive explosion pierces through the quiet night. Like everyone else, Messer hurries out of bed and heads out into the door to see what is going on.

Outside, a great fireball lights up the sky. One of the buildings in the camp is engulfed in flames. The Germans are shouting at each other and running towards the burning building. On top of the building, the red Nazi flag is quickly being turned to ashes. Messer can't tell which building it is, so he decides to get a closer look. The heat becomes greater and greater the closer he gets. Messer wipes some of the building sweat from his forehead when he thinks he sees what looks like a German soldier running away from the burning building, but also trying to keep out of sight. What's even weirder, they don't have a full German uniform; the cap and coat are German but the trousers and boots look American. Messer understands what is going on; one of their guys must have set fire to the building. Idiot he thinks dumb bastard is going to get himself killed.

***

I race back to the garage. The auxiliary communication building is now a roaring inferno. I chose it because it was isolated and I discovered through my late night reconnaissance that there is no one in the building at night. I made it very clear that it was an act of arson. The cigarette that I used to light the fire is still there along with the now burning oil drum. In addition to torching the building, I hope I also get rid of some of the Kraut's radio equipment. That stuff isn't easy to come by and if the Kraut's happen to lose some of it during my act of sabotage, well so much the better.

I make it back to the garage. I'm lucky again; the guard who I knocked out is still unconscious. Working as quickly as I can, I take of his coat and hat and put them back on him. Being caught in part of a Kraut uniform would be a death sentence, even for me. That task being complete, I had to where the rest of my men are standing, watching the Germans fruitlessly try and fight the flames. Captain Kressing is out there, shouting at his men, ordering them to continue trying to tame the fire.

***

In the town of Umberetto, a short distance from Camp Percival, the citizens, normally asleep at this hour, are up and watching with a mixture of curiosity and awe at the orange sky in the distance. They know it is coming from the German prison camp, but there has never been anything like this from that place before. People whisper to each other: speculating, wondering, and asking. For days to come, this will be the source of gossip around town.

One citizen however, has a very nervous feeling that she knows what happened. She is also fairly certain she knows who is responsible for it. He hadn't flat out told her what he was going to do, but she knew.

"Oh Mac." She quietly whispers to herself. "Please be careful." Then, Stella Bonasera did something she hadn't done in a long time. She prayed, honestly, sincerely, she prayed.

It was all she can do.

***

The sun began to rise in the eastern sky and with it, a cloud of smoke coming from Camp Percival. Along with the foul smell of burnt wood and charred radio equipment, there is tension in the air that could be cut with a knife. Once again, Kressing has assembled everyone in the camp.

Kressing is pacing back and forth in front of the Americans. "Who caused this?" He howls, rage and fury clearly marked throughout his face and voice.

I take a deep breath and step forward.

"Major Taylor?" He looks at me confusedly.

"I did it Captain. None of these other men knew anything about it or had any part in planning it."

Kressing seems taken aback by my confession. If it were anyone else, he would simply shoot them and be done with it. But not me. He thinks I'm too valuable to kill. He seems unsure of what to do. This round, I'm the one who came up with the surprise.

"Alright Major. Since you didn't try and escape but still have made our lives more miserable, I will make your life very miserable. You didn't seem to like the two days of solitary confinement that Commandant von Touffel imposed. I'm going to give you a week. That includes no food. I hope you had a full breakfast because if you starve to death, that is your own fault not mine. Put him in!"

Two of his soldiers escort me to the stockade with the inside cloaked in darkness. The door is locked behind me.

Hope you like it, more to come.