Another early update, because I know some people wanted a Newkirk chapter. I'm not certain you'll be all that pleased, but at least there's a light at the end of the tunnel...

Many thanks to the readers who have stuck with it and to TinySprite my most faithful beta and Bits And Pieces for encouragement. Also, to the twitter crew, scattered though we might be, still around for each other.

Finally, thank you to all the reviewers. I value each and every one.

CHAPTER 10

His knees hurt. There were a lot of bits and pieces of Newkirk that were protesting their recent treatment but at the moment, his knees were the loudest complaints. Newkirk lifted his head to peer around the room. He was kneeling, again, in the middle of the larger sitting room of the hotel suite. Even the thick rug wasn't helping to pad his sore joints. Trying to straighten his back, Newkirk groaned softly as the stretch pulled at his shoulders. The metal cuffs were back in place, adding to his levels of discomfort. His wrists were raw and cut and having them cuffed behind his back wasn't helping his back or shoulders.

His request to have them removed, though politely phrased and delivered with a humble tone, had led to Otto kicking him in the thigh. His cursing about being kicked led to a few blows. Newkirk decided to wait quietly after that. If his captors didn't remove his bonds, they would leave him alone at some point and he'd simply unlock them himself.

Right now Otto was busy bringing in bottles of wine and Schnapps. The Englishman watched him warily but he seemed to distracted with preparations for that afternoon to bother with any torments at the moment.

When Otto left, Newkirk listened for a few moments before he began to tongue his lockpick out of his cheek. He nearly swallowed it when the door opened and Jager came in. Luckily the guard was busy balancing a container, towel and a small case while trying to close the door and didn't see Newkirk's facial antics as he shoved the lockpick back into place.

By the time Jager had set all of his items on the table and turned around, Newkirk was giving him a bland but wary look. Jager had been mostly hands-off with the prisoner. He hadn't helped him in any way but to this point, he had never done more than a typical guard. Now he was smiling at the kneeling POW.

"Now." Jager bent to peer at Newkirk's bruised face. "Those are some very nasty bruises." He reached out and Newkirk jerked back, beginning to shake involuntarily. "Be still." He felt around the swollen left eye carefully. "Open your eye." Newkirk tried to pull away and Jager reached to cup one hand behind his head. His grip was firm but careful too and Newkirk held still and let him poke and prod the worst places.

When Newkirk flinched at a particularly swollen bruise, Jager grimaced. "Ja. It hurts. I know." He retrieved the supplies he had brought in and wet a clean cloth to begin blotting his face. "I will clean the blood off. It is just water, ja? It won't hurt." The coolness of the wet rag felt good and Newkirk tried to be still. "Close your eyes or it will drip into them." Obeying, Newkirk sat patiently while his face was wiped clean. When he was able to reopen his eyes, he saw concern in Jager's expression. "You have a few little cuts. This will sting, ja? But you must be still."

The styptic pencil he used to close the cuts did sting and burn. When Newkirk jerked or flinched, Jager made soothing noises and admonished him to hold still. "This one is near your eye. Be still, bitte. Would not want to get this in your eye, ja?" While his patient hissed in pain, Jager tutted over him and dabbed the cut. "There. Much better, yes? Now I will remove your handcuffs so you may take off your shirts and stretch some. But you must behave. Don't touch your face, bitte. Do you understand?" Jager bent to look him in the eyes. "You understand, Englander? Behave nicely."

After a moment, Newkirk nodded slowly. Jager retrieved a small key and unlocked him, letting him get to his feet and walk about some. Indicating he should undress, Jager moved a few steps aside and waited.

Hesitating warily, Newkirk finally dragged his uniform blouse and pullover off, pausing and eying Jager again before removing his undershirt as well. He jumped nervously when Jager tutted again.

"Come here." said Jager. Instead Newkirk backed away. "Nein. I told you, you must be good." Shaking a finger, Jager approached slowly and checked the worst injuries on his chest and back. "I am not hurting you, be still."

Newkirk couldn't help the shivers and he yelped when Jager pressed on his broken rib.

"Ah, does it hurt much?" Jager poked around it more.

"Yes." said Newkirk through gritted teeth. "You Krauts broke my rib. Of course it bloody 'urts."

"Hmmm." Jager went back to the table and opened up a case. "These will be more comfortable." He held up a set of heavy manacles with a length of chain between them.

Newkirk moved away around the edge of the room. "No cuffs at all would be more comfortable."

"Nein." Jager gave a little gesture. "Do not make this hard." He tilted his head. "I can call Otto in to help me restrain you. Is that what you want, Englander?"

"No." whispered Newkirk. "No, I don't want." He stopped moving and let Jager approach. As much as he tried, he couldn't stop the shivers of fear as his hands were pulled behind him again. The heavy cuffs snapped into place around his wrists and the weight of the chain pulled at him. "What will 'appen?" He had a very good idea but wanted to hear it for some reason.

Jager shook his head. "Do not worry about it. You just behave well. When Major-General Hendrich's guests arrive, you behave well for them, ja?"

Newkirk swallowed carefully and gave Jager a pleading look. "Why? Why is 'e doing this? Why can't you 'elp me?" It was a slim chance that the younger of the two guards might feel enough empathy to want to help the prisoner.

Jager gave a soft laugh and came close to look into Newkirk's eyes. "Help you? Major-General Hendrich told me when his guests are done, I might get a turn on you myself." His eyes glinted with the evil humor. "Now get back on your knees and wait like a good prisoner."

Slowly lowering himself back onto the rug, Newkirk stared at Jager and began to wonder if he'd survive the evening. Worse, he began to wonder if he wanted to.

Outside the hotel

General Burkhalter hauled his considerable bulk out of the back seat of his car and huffed at his aide. "This had better be a decent hotel. The last one was filthy."

The lean aide nodded. "My apologies, herr general, this is a very good establishment. Also, it is the only one within an hour's drive."

"Well that narrows your choice, doesn't it?" Burkhalter looked the outside of building over. "Beggars can't be choosers then." As he walked inside, he noted two German Colonels and a Major heading up a set of stairs. Two sergeants followed after them while three others headed towards the hotel bar. "We shall be lucky to find a room, Friedrich. This hotel seems popular among the Heer officers."

His aide smiled slightly. "There are quite a few Heer officers arriving. However, I believe they will find a room for you, my general." Friedrich gestured towards the lobby sitting area. "If you would wish to relax for a bit, I shall arrange rooms and check the kitchens."

"Danke Friedrich, make sure they have clean linens." Burkhalter turned his back on the aide, confident in the man's ability to arrange for the very best on his commanding officer's behalf. His two guards flanked him silently, moving to stand behind the chair he picked. The cushions were worn but ample to pad his seat comfortably. One of the hotel boys approached immediately to ask if the general would prefer some coffee or refreshments.

"Brandy, if you have any good stuff in stock." Burkhalter eyed the young man as he scurried away. Rank had it's drawbacks in responsibilities but the privileges were many. A general who showed up at any establishment would get the lion's share of attention. He had the passing thought that the other German officers upstairs had better not have expected much from the hotel staff, he intended to keep them busy taking proper care of himself.

His brandy and Friedrich both arrived at the same time. Friedrich with news that the kitchen was passable and a meal had been arranged for the general in the restaurant.

Burkhalter sighed as he got back to his feet. "Fine then. Come Friedrich, join me for a meal. Am I to assume they will be preparing suitable quarters for me?"

"Jawohl, herr general. One of the better suites." Friedrich seemed vaguely amused as the wait staff of the little restaurant rushed about setting the table as the general approached. He waved the extra staff away with one languid motion and moved the chair out to seat his commander. "I was assured the linens would be clean and the rooms do not have vermin."

Sitting heavily, Burkhalter chuckled. "Good. Now perhaps we can take our time eating. Nothing else is happening that needs my attention, I assume?"

Friedrich took the opposite chair. "Nein, herr general. Nothing that I am aware of."

The Heer sergeants that had gone to the hotel bar instead of accompanying their Heer officers upstairs for the 'activities' eyed each other warily at first.

Werner settled at the bar first and held up a finger for the bartender to bring him a beer. By the time his beer arrived, his two new companions had taken the seats to one side of him. "So, which one of you is attached to the other Oberst?"

One rolled his eyes. "That would be my colonel, Gunter here is with the major." He snorted at Gunter rolling his eyes as well. "Two peas in a pod, despite the rank differences, if you take my meaning."

Gunter took his own beer in hand and downed several swallows. "Ja and when they get in trouble for what they're doing up there, do you think we will be left alone? Nein, they'll take us down with them." He poked his companion. "You watch, Dieter, when the authorities find out about their tastes in entertainment, we'll be shot along with the deviants."

"Hush that talk, Gunter. I tell you, that's why we're down here in the bar and not up in the room. They can't shoot us when we aren't even there." Dieter didn't seem all that convinced.

The bartender wiped the smooth wooden surface carefully and gestured at the already empty beer steins. Dieter nodded in reply and the bartender refilled all three and moved just far enough away to not be conspicuous in his listening.

Werner relaxed slightly now that he knew the two other guards shared his distaste. "Gunter is right. Himmler decreed deviant behavior like this to be grounds for the most severe punishments, we're more likely to be shot than released. Officers might get away with it."

Dieter protested. "It's not like they're raping citizens anyway. No one cares about a few missing prisoners. Besides, we should just keep quiet."

Gunter spoke up quietly. "That's easy for you to say. That Major-General Hendrich and his minion Otto give me the creeps. Last time, I swear, Hendrich was looking at me way too much for my piece of mind."

Werner laughed mirthlessly. "It's not a piece of your mind that he wants."

Even Gunter couldn't help but chuckle at the joke, albeit an uneasy laugh. None of the three noticed the bartender leaving.

Tending bar meant that a person overheard a lot of things that you overlooked or deliberately forgot about. But... if what the guards were talking about was happening right upstairs... the bartender paled. The hotel itself could be implicated as hosting that sort of illegal activity and who knows where the arrests would stop?

He stood in the shadows of the doorway between the bar and restaurant. What could he do at this point? His eyes lifted to gaze at the ceiling, as if to see through the floor to the sick twisted party happening above. He needed a high ranking officer.

A loud voice declaring the food to be inedible made him turn to look into the dining room. A Luftwaffe general was complaining loudly to his young waiter about his meal.

Setting his face grimly, the bartender headed in that direction. Maybe the general would dismiss him out of hand but at least he'd have made an attempt to stop the people. It was the least any decent sort of German citizen could do.

Burkhalter had just sent the waiter back to the kitchens to try to find something edible. He turned to his aide, feeling even more annoyed when he saw Friedrich's look of amusement. "How can any cook make bratwurst taste so terrible?"

Friedrich spread the fingers of one hand, lifting the other to try to hide the slight smile. "Perhaps he made an effort, my general?"

"You find too many things amusing, Friedrich." Burkhalter snorted as his aide laughed softly. "If you were not so good at your job, I'd replace you with someone with no sense of humor at all."

"Jawohl, mein general." Friedrich didn't seem very worried.

Burkhalter looked around the room. His aide suited him very well. But he had to threaten to fire him every so often. It was the way things were supposed to be between them.

"Pardon, herr general, a moment of your time?" The hesitant voice came from a mousy little man that looked old enough to be a grandfather. The apron he wore was mostly clean and told Burkhalter he was probably staff.

"Are you the abominable excuse for a cook here?" Burkhalter's glare made the man shrink back. "If so, don't bother apologizing, just make something edible."

"No, my apologies, herr general. I am just a bartender. But please, there is... there is something you should attend to, herr general." Seeing his words had captured the officer's attention, he straightened up more. "There is a Heer Major-General here, he is... he and his guests are upstairs and they are..." He trailed off and twisted the corner of his apron in his hands nervous. "I was told, that is, I overheard that they are engaging in activities that would cast a poor light on our illustrious military. Their behavior does not befit a proper German officer. This Major-General Hendrich has several other officers as his guests and..."

Burkhalter cut him off. "Hendrich? Heer Major-General Hendrich is here?! In this hotel?!" He surged to his feet angrily. Burkhalter had already been in a poor mood from the state of the roads he'd traveled on for hours, only to find a dingy hotel and a terrible excuse for a meal. Hendrich had been a side concern since Klink had called to attempt to enlist his help. But the man had insulted the Luftwaffe and therefor was defying the authority of Burkhalter himself. His eyes narrowed. "Tell me which room. I will take care of this upstart myself. Where are my guards? Friedrich, commandeer some of those troops we passed outside. This fool Hendrich is about to learn that no one defies me." He watched his aide rush to the front of the lobby. Gesturing to his two guards, he told them to fetch their arms from the car. "This Hendrich may show himself a bigger fool than I think considering he has a few of his like-minded foolish friends with him."

He stood, smiling to himself and rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for his aide to bring the reinforcements.

End Chapter

See? Things happen. Happy? I hope so! Thanks for reading!