Author's note: Jippie, another update! You know, I was half planning in letting this fic rest for months on end, just to bug you people after the cliffhanger of the previous chapter :p but I'm just having too much fun writing this. I never thought I'd get this far.
You may have noticed I've changed the summary of this story, and have deleted the very first piece of text (you know, the writers drabbles). I started this whole thing with the idea of the Basterds having Nazi killing fun in a one-chapter-long fashion, but since I've been developing an actual plotline all of a sudden, I think it's time to take myself a little more serious. So I've changed the first summary (hoping this will get me a little more readers :p) and the writer's drabbels, because it all just didn't fit anymore.
Also, this chapter is sort of deticated to eveninghtought, because she's my most loyal reader so far (thanks loads for your wonderful reviews!) and because she has the flu as I'm writing this and I hope she gets better soon. Oh, and read her IB fanfic, 'The Basterds black book', which is a great story. There.
On with the plot.
Chapter 10: Faint.
Lt. Raine kicked another door open, aiming his gun. But the room was empty. Again. Behind him, Utivich, Sakowitz and Kagan uttered frustrated sighs. The others just exchanged looks. This wasn't looking good.
"We'll split up." Raine said, hoping he was making the right call this time. He didn't like to separate his men now that they were all together again, but it would increase their chances of finding the one man they were still missing. Donny was somewhere out there, at the mercy of the Nazis, and time was ticking. Heaven knows what they would do to him, or had already done. He wasn't what you'd call the cooperative type.
Hirschberg, Omar, Utivich and Wicki ran off to the search the left part of the building, while Raine, Stiglitz, Zimmerman, Kagan and Sakowitz took the right half. They ran up more stairs, passing long hallways filled with prison cells, and burst into many rooms, which all ended up being offices, storage rooms, or rooms that looked like anyone would take a prisoner to interrogate, but they were all empty. The search became more desperate.
Raine suddenly skidded to a halt. He was on the top floor of the prison, having just reached a small hallway. The others also stopped, and looked over his shoulders. At the end of the hallway was an iron door. Raine had a gut feeling that door was the one they were looking for. He looked behind him, put a finger to his lips, signaling the rest to be quiet. The grip on his gun tightening, he quickly but silently paced forward, listening if he could hear any sound that indicated someone being behind the iron. He heard a voice, and simply knew he had to be fast. He lunged forward, kicking the door open, a loud bang echoing as it crashed into the wall.
Raine inhaled sharply at the scene that unfolded in front of him.
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"Any last words?"
Donny didn't react. Instead, he just looked up at the face of the man that was going to put him out for good. He refused to close his eyes in this final moment. He refused to avert his gaze, choosing to give Steinberg his most hateful glare, hoping the man would be followed by it in his nightmares for the rest of wretched life. He refused to show fear. He would go with dignity.
Steinberg ignored Donny's stare, instead absorbing the moment for a little longer. He was finally putting an end to it, an end to the guilt that had torn him apart for months now. He and Nicolas had never been very close, but they had been family, and frankly, his brother had been the only person he had ever really cared for. He had let him down in the end, but he was going to make up for it now. And what better way than to kill the one responsible with his very own weapon?
Steinberg stalled a split second too long.
The door burst open. Steinberg barely had the time to blink and look over his shoulder, to see the least likely person he expected in the doorway. Lt. Aldo Raine only hesitated for an instant. His right hand seemed to have a will of his own, as he shot Steinberg twice in a time spam of maybe one second, one bullet landing in his arm, the other hitting his cheek sideways, causing his teeth to shatter, the splinters piercing his tongue and lips. The bullet exited through his other cheek, and plunged into the wall. His hands flew up to his face, and the bat plummeted to the ground.
The soldiers still present in the room both leapt up, drawing their own guns, but Raine, despite being older, still had razor sharp reflexes, and he shot the man with the scar under his eye right in the eye. Blood splattered the ground and the walls when the bullet exited through the back of his skull. The other soldier just had the time to aim his gun. He was shot in the heart twice. He dropped his weapon, and fell to the ground, his hands clutching his bloody chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.
The last echoes of the gunshots faded. Raine felt an immense relief when he realized he had been just in time. Donny was alive, although bleeding, bruised and battered, but alive nonetheless.
"You okay?" he said, taking a few steps forward. Donny nodded, looking rather flabbergasted, as if the fact he had been saved at the last second still needed to sink in. It probably did. Raine helped him up, and got him out of his handcuffs.
"Someone up there must really like you, Donny." he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Donny just shrugged.
"Someone really does…" he muttered. He picked up his bat, and gazed down at Steinberg, who was a shaking mess on the floor, his hands clutched to his deformed face, tears mixing with the blood that streamed from his wounds. As Donny looked, his initial shock was replaced by anger. No, he thought. It wasn't just anger. It was a pure loathing, a hate like he had never felt before. His hands tightened their grip around his baseball bat. The names carved in it played before his eyes, and he thought of the millions of nameless people that had died and suffered at the hands of men like Steinberg. That sick maniac that had tried to kill him. He ignored the pain he felt when he swung the bat over his shoulder.
Payback time.
Steinberg's eyes widened in terror, and he let out a scream. Donny landed his bat once, which was enough to kill the colonel, but he didn't stop there.
"Sick fuck!" he grunted, and swung the bat again, and again. He was fueled by the hate that intoxicated his entire being like a drug. He didn't stop when Steinberg's head was no longer recognizable. He didn't stop when his bat and clothes were getting covered in blood, bits of brain and bone splinters. He didn't stop when there was barely anything left of the colonel's head.
He did stop when he felt two hands grab his shoulders and jerk him away. It was Lt. Raine, with a half concerned and half disapproving look in his eyes.
"I think he's learned his lesson now." he said. He was slightly taken aback by the hatred that burned in Donny's eyes. He was getting worried that something had finally snapped inside his sergeant's head. The others in the doorway had simply watched Donny's outburst, thinking along the same line of Raine's thoughts. The only one that seemed to enjoy the whole scene, was Stiglitz.
Donny let out a sigh. His shoulders slumped, making it appear he shrunk a little. The rush was over, and the fury disappeared from his gaze. He was back to normal again. Raine let go of his shoulders.
"Alright, let's find the others and get the fuck outta here." he ordered, turning to the rest.
The Basterds all met down on the courtyard of the prison. Most of them still couldn't believe how lucky they got of making it out more or less unharmed.
"Funny there's barely any Nazis around." Utivich said.
"Well, let's not wait for any to show up." Raine answered. "We get us into a truck and drive as far away from here as we can."
There was no arguing to that idea. They found several trucks in the large storage building. There, they also found new weapons, and lots of artillery. Things were looking up. Just a few hours ago, they had been divided, armless, and imprisoned, but now they were getting back on track again. Soon, they would be roaming around the woods and country roads of Nazi-occupied France once again, and their escape would give them even more of a reputation then they already had.
Raine wasn't being so enthusiastic as the rest of his men. The Germans had proven they wouldn't take their little terror campaign laying down. He had underestimated their cunning, just like they had underestimated the Basterds at first. The games were really on now. The two parties knew each other's strengths and weaknesses now, and that gave them both advantages and disadvantages. The Basterds still had the elements of fear and surprise on their side, but the Nazis had shown they were very capable of finding them when they put their minds to it. Raine wished for all of his men to stay alive and free for as far as it went. Dying in battle was a different matter, but none of them deserved to die a slow and painful death in enemy prison.
His plan was to go into hiding again, but much longer this time. He even half considered to leave the country for a while, so their enemy would hopefully think they had left for good. Raine suspected the Germans had found them in the first place because they had been very active lately. Activity left tracks, and tracks could be followed. He had thought he had been careful enough, but that apparently hadn't been the case. Hiding, even if the word had a sort of cowardly meaning to it, was a good idea.
While he watched the others load their weapons and such in the truck, he suddenly wondered where Donny had gone to. He wasn't helping, not that Raine would be mad at him for not doing so, since he was injured. He looked around, to find Donny leaning against the side of the truck, his head bowed.
"Donny?"
He lifted his head.
"Oh, sorry lieutenant. But I'm not feeling great…"
"Don't be bugged by it. Sit down a while. Or get in the truck already, we'll be leaving in a minute anyway." Raine said, noticing the rest was pretty much finished loading in.
Donny nodded, but he didn't move. He could barely bring up the energy to talk. His anger and survival instincts had kept him going for the past 24 hours, but now, he finally felt the impact of his injuries, and being up for hours without hardly any rest. His entire body ached, and all the pain seemed to center itself in his shoulder. His vision was getting blurrier by the minute. He lifted his head up again, looking around if anyone was near. He saw Utivich approach.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.
No, I'm not fucking alright, Donny thought.
"Maybe I should ask Raine if we could stop by a doctor or something on the way." he answered, and tried to force a grin. Utivich half smiled back.
"Of course we'll get you to a doctor. No offense and all, but you sure look like you could use one."
"Great…"
"You'll be okay, Donny. You're the Bear Jew, remember?" He patted him on the arm. Donny now did grin, and pretended to attack Utivich with his bat. Or tried to at least. He felt dizzy and slightly nauseous as soon as he took a step. Utivich gave him a worried look.
"I'll be in the truck…" Donny said.
He managed to get himself as far as the passenger's seat, with Utivich behind him, asking if there was anything he could do. Donny got a little irritated. Yes, his condition was bad. No, he didn't need to be mothered. He just needed rest, and a doctor to dig that bullet out of him.
"Everybody in the truck!" Raine ordered, and got behind the steering wheel as soon as all his men were aboard.
He drove the vehicle carefully out of the city, keeping the headlights on to not look suspicious, but turned them off as soon as they reached the countryside. It was trickier to drive like this, but it also made it more difficult to follow them. It was closing in on midnight by now, and he definitely started to feel the weight of the past days. He was tired, but managed to concentrate on the road anyway. It was misty, but he could see far enough ahead. Good thing he didn't need glasses yet.
Raine sometimes cast a glance to his right. Donny hadn't said a word since they had departed, and sat with his eyes closed, which meant he either fell asleep, or slipped into unconsciousness. Raine didn't like that last idea. He would be looking for a doctor to take a look at his sergeant as soon as they reached the next village. And that doctor had better cooperate.
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When Hans Landa arrived the next day at the prison in Evreux, he had expected a warm welcome and a very excited Steinberg walking up to him and inviting him in his office for a drink, before bringing him to the Basterds.
What he had not expected was the chaos he was seeing now.
Soldiers were running in and out of the building. Officers shouted commands. Trucks kept loading up with patrols, all of them armed to the teeth. Full trucks rode out of the building almost constantly. Landa had arrived about an hour ago, but no one had informed him about this situation yet. He and the four men that accompanied him still stood by the car, watching. After trying to get the attention of several officers and finally getting an apology and a promise from a soldier that one captain Franken would be with him shortly, (of course, the man had failed to show up) he decided to take matters in his own hands. Landa hadn't become colonel to be ignored by every man lower ranked than him.
He ordered his men to stay by the car, and walked up to the soldier closest by. The man looked very young; he probably wasn't even twenty yet.
"Excuse me, soldier" Landa addressed the man in a polite but firm tone (he strongly believed politeness got you anywhere, as long as it was accompanied by the right kind of pressure). The young man looked up from the boxes he was supposed to put into the truck a distance away. He then noticed Landa's uniform, and immediately stood straight, saluting and clacking his heels together.
"Private August Schweiger, colonel, sir!"
"At ease, private." Landa said, satisfied that he had at last found someone that hopefully wouldn't abandon him within minutes. "Say, I have a little problem. You see, I have an appointment with colonel Steinberg today, but I haven't seen him, and so far, no one has explained to me what is going on here. And I have been waiting for almost an hour now."
"My apologies, sir. I was not aware of your presence."
"That's quite alright. Now, am I correct to presume that colonel Steinberg has foolishly let the Basterds escape, and that the chaos in your prison at the moment can be explained by that fact?"
"Yes, sir."
Landa resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He should've known Steinberg would screw up somehow. How typical.
"How did this happen?" he asked, sounding a little more irritated then he had meant to.
"I'm not entirely sure, sir. You see…" Schweiger hesitated for a moment, as if he was afraid to say what he was going to say.
"Yes?"
"Most of us were not present at the time, sir. They escaped last night. Colonel Steinberg gave most of the men, including me, the night of to celebrate the capture of the Basterds."
Now Landa did roll his eyes. When he fixed his gaze back on Schweiger, he could've sworn he saw some amusement in the man's eyes. Charming young lad, Landa thought.
"Now, tell me, private, you don't happen to know if the Basterds had any help from outside?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Captain Franken said it's not very likely. I think…" He cut of his words right there. Landa looked him in the eyes, curious, but the man averted his gaze, as if he was afraid to have an opinion of his own. Landa thought opinions were great, as long as one knew when to keep them for oneself.
"Do continue, private." he said. "You think…"
Surprised, but also visibly pleased he was allowed to speak his mind, Schweiger told Landa he thought the Basterds possibly had connections with the French resistance.
"The resistance! Very interesting. That's some good thinking, private." he said. Schweiger straightened his shoulders, trying to keep a smile from breaking through on his face. It made Landa almost laugh. Clever young man indeed. He wished there were more men like that around in higher places. Private Schweiger probably wouldn't have been so foolish as Steinberg to let the prison practically unguarded with such valuable and dangerous captives in it. But Landa didn't believe the French resistance had anything to do with the Basterds escape.
"Was colonel Steinberg absolutely sure he had all the Basterds here?" he asked. Schweiger frowned.
"I don't know, sir." He answered, and his frowned turned into a thoughtful look. Landa observed him, curious to find out if he was indeed clever enough to figure out what his idea on the situation was.
"You believe colonel Steinberg didn't get all of them, and the remaining ones have come to free their comrades, sir?" he said after a while, sounding a little unsure about his thought.
"My thoughts exactly." Landa said, smiling. Why oh why did 99 percent of the German army consist of idiots and ego trippers?
"Now, I would like to see colonel Steinberg." He said. Schweiger bit his lip, and looked to the ground. Landa raised an eyebrow.
"That idiot got himself killed, didn't he?" he said.
"I'm afraid so, sir."
Landa sighed. How very typical. He had about enough of this. He decided to get more personally involved in the search for the Basterds, and vowed to put someone with some actual brain cells in the lead this time, aside from himself of course.
He would catch the Basterds, of that he was absolutely sure. They couldn't run and hide forever, like the rats they were. Eagle eyes would spot them again eventually.
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And done! Private August Schweiger is my little hommage to Til Schweiger, you know, the actor who played Hugo Stiglitz in the film (in case you forgot). Yes, more Landa. I hope he's alright the way I write him. Anyone who's tried will agree with me if I say he's rather complicated to portray. Oh, and I'm aware the word 'colonel' is supposed to be 'standartenführer' in WWII German, but 'colonel' just types easier.
Thanks for reading, and till the next chapter!
