It was ten minutes after Wilhelm had sent Lucy and his other men on when he finally caught the brown-headed woman's shadow heading his way. With three others around her and more behind her in the trees, Wilhelm was assured of her safety, but was not happy to see another man being dragged into his circle. And the man was being dragged by the ear, he could see it. Lucy was not letting this one go anywhere.
And if he had been a threat to begin with, Lucy would have taken him out. Why bring him back though? Why is this man so special?
"Sir, look what we found," Lucy almost proudly exclaimed, letting the man in the green uniform drop to his knees on the ground. "He was standing at the place where Claus was supposed to convene with us."
"Doing what?" Wilhelm asked, speaking as if Hawkeye was not listening to the conversation.
"Just standing there," Lucy replied as Hawkeye stood up once more. "I don't know what his true intentions are, but we'll find out soon enough, I'm sure."
"Well, that's all, folks," Hawkeye muttered sarcastically.
"What was that, Captain?" Wilhelm growled at Hawkeye, seeing, just as Lucy did, the captain's bars of the US Army.
"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Hawkeye answered, still in jokester mode, the first time since the whole affair started. "Just a little something to carry the blues away. And a one and a two and a…"
When Hawkeye tried to inanely sing a song to change the topic, Wilhelm slapped him lightly in the back of head. "Enough of this, will you? Tell us why you're here or you will face the consequences. The CIA doesn't do anyone any favors. You're one of them that we tend to ignore."
Hawkeye then grinned, but fear kept gripping his heart. "Oh, so you're one of those guys? Fancy I ran into you. I was wondering where everyone from the cocktail party went to. Have that bottle of red wine that went missing?"
Slapping his own forehead with disgust, Wilhelm turned to Lucy. "Has he been like this since you've captured him?"
"You have no idea," Lucy mumbled in a growl, wanting to slap Hawkeye's head for being so annoying (to them, as least) again. "Ask one of the men if you don't believe me."
"Hey, why the long faces?" Hawkeye exclaimed with false glee. "I've got some –"
"Listen, Captain, and listen good," Wilhelm interrupted as he grabbed Hawkeye's collar and brought him to his knees. "You've been discovered on our turf. Get out of here while you still can. If not, you can face the consequences."
"Geez, I didn't know the neighborhood was so rough." Hawkeye brushed Wilhelm off of his shoulder, as if imaginary dirt stood there, and groaned. "You bullies don't know how to take a hit."
"And you don't know when to shut it!" Lucy retorted.
Wilhelm, tiring of one strategy, looked at Lucy with new eyes, exchanging a glance with her that made her raise an eyebrow, one that confused even Hawkeye. Then, when he silently motioned her to one side and walked a ways with her, he whispered in her ear. A furious conversation followed. Finally, after Hawkeye strained his ears and tried to listen in (curious at last), the two finished their conversation and turned back to him.
"Captain, do you know anything about Major Floyd?" Wilhelm asked gently, almost as if the light beating from earlier had not happened.
"Know? Do I ever!" Hawkeye laughed mechanically, trying to lighten the mood, even though the name itself sent shivers down his spine. "He was the one who –"
"We don't need a life story, Captain," Lucy interrupted. "We need an answer. Do you know him?"
Hawkeye looked from Wilhelm to Lucy and gulped audibly. "Well, I guess you can say that I know of him. Why?"
Lucy's deep eyes then sucked Hawkeye right into a story, one that she was willing to tell, one that was about to change the course of the murder mystery. And right behind her, Wilhelm was supplying the rest of the tale. It was a sordid past of a family, of course, but there was always the connection from there and here, dots that trailed all the way to Nurse Winifred Curtis and the man who named himself Sergeant Aaron Church, but was a man named Manfred Schneider. And of course, right in the middle of the mess, ignorant of the past, was Major Margaret Houlihan.
~00~
Major Floyd, sitting in his quarters that morning, glanced occasionally at his reports and some random files from here and there, but mostly, he sipped at what they passed off and called coffee in the camp. His cigar smoldering in the ashtray besides his elbow, he thought of the next step in his plan. Of course, it involved telling his story to a little rat in the camp, but with the liability of that person, he needed to make a clean move before someone said something to the wrong person.
And that wrong person was already hot on his tail. By the way Colonel Potter was giving him looks (and the way his company clerk roamed the camp freely and with the prisoners), Floyd was already becoming more cautious. He also had a clue as to what person snooped around and took a peek into his personal files and he didn't like it already.
That little rat, Corporal Walter "Radar" O'Reilly, had to go. Floyd was sure of it. He couldn't get rid of the priest, but the most precious commodity of any camp can be used to his advantage.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Floyd took his cigar out of the ashtray and smoked some from it, but put it out when he called for the person to come in.
"You wanted to see me, Sir?" The clerk named "Radar" entered slowly as he was called in, shutting out the hot air behind him. "Colonel Potter said you needed something and that I needed to get you that something that you needed."
"Well, I need more from you, Corporal," Floyd admitted, cracking his knuckles loudly, so much so that it startled Radar. "In fact, I think I need more from you than you really think. And you better pay attention, for your life depends on this one."
Shadows appeared outside of Floyd's door, suddenly blocking any way out of the tent. It made Radar nervous, but he had everything to lose if he let Floyd in on the secrets he shared with Colonel Potter. He had to make Floyd think him stupid, not an accomplice in everything done in the camp.
"You see, Corporal," Floyd continued, hiding his hands into his uniform pants pocket, "I have no fondness for people who like to whisper in others' ears about business that doesn't concern them."
"What do you mean?" Radar was gingerly stepping into innocence once more, something Colonel Potter had told him to play up to…and to play up well.
"Corporal, there's always a beginning to every story and this one began long ago, way before you were born most likely." Floyd sat back, smiling like a predator cornering his prey. "Let's see…oh, yes, as you would like to hear, once upon a time…there once was a military man who went to war, a man named Colonel Leonard Ploid. He left behind the perfect family when he went to Europe, a wife who adored him and five children who idolized him."
"Gee, that's swell!" Radar interrupted in what seemed to be the beginning of a story.
"Well, it would have been, had not this Colonel Ploid ran across a man who went AWOL, a man named Sergeant William Curtis, a man from his unit. Now, the man was already suspected of dealing with the Germans, but when Ploid saw that it was for real, he went to report it. However, someone had gotten there first and someone was already pointing the finger at him. That man accusing him was Al Houlihan, who had a little informant somewhere. Now, Houlihan was an up-and-coming military man who had looked to his booze first, himself second and his men third.
"Despite doing time in the stockade for leaving without authorization, Sergeant William Curtis left the Army and went back to his life of crime. However, Colonel Ploid – the man who wanted to do some good in his life, especially for his wife and children – was accused of sabotage and treason. And all the evidence they had, other than being accused, was a note for Agent H21 coming for him. It was a message meant for Curtis, for sure, but it broke another man. What was worse was that it was Curtis that accused Ploid and he was backed up by Houlihan. It was shameful for an innocent man to be led into chains, all in front of his family, towards the end of a war, when victory was sure and the war was won.
"Years passed, Corporal…long, hard years. As you've probably figured out, Ploid died alone and his family changed their names and moved away from all the attention they've received for being related to a man accused of treason to the United States. In all of those years, nobody noticed the underbelly of that bitterness and pain, of being close to that man, seeing him behind bars and watching as those tears killed whatever pride he had left inside of him."
"Major, I'm sorry I wasn't ready for this bedtime story and didn't have my bear with me, but I have to –" Radar began.
"Shut up, you little miscreant!" Floyd suddenly yelled, standing up and pulling a gun out of his pocket. "Get out. Get out of my sight before I decide to shoot you now. However, Corporal, you better be back in my sight after dinner. We still have business to conduct. If you're not here with my men at the appointed hour, just before I leave tonight, by God I'll kill you in front of everyone and make sure you bleed to death. Go!"
Shaking, Radar turned and left. As if by rote, the men outside the door opened it for him and watched him leave, seeing that he was trying to make himself invisible. Gaines and Pyle, who used to watch Margaret and were assigned lighter duties with Radar now, eyed the clerk with little suspicion. However, both stopped letting their thoughts run through his facial expression when they saw Floyd pop his head out.
"Gaines, Pyle, watch him. Bring him back to me at dinnertime. Make sure to give him some hope before bringing him back in." Floyd smiled at them, as if he knew something that the two did not. "Actually, on second thought, make sure he comes here before dinner. I don't want a bigger mess to clean up, especially after seeing what food this place has."
"Yes, Sir," Pyle said quietly, looking for Gaines for a better plan, one that help the camp instead of hindering them.
"You can count on us, Sir," Gaines only added quietly, staring down the lane where Radar had disappeared off to.