The Case of Mistaken Identity Raid

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 3

Hitch felt the rocks under his feet start to slide. He threw his arms out in a desperate attempt to stop his fall. That attempt failed and he found himself tumbling backwards down the slope. His knee struck a rock and that slowed his descent. He bit back a cry as his shoulder connected with another rock, not hard enough to stop his fall, but enough to slow him even further. He rolled the rest of the way to the bottom.

His initial cry hadn't been too loud, giving him hope that the Germans hadn't heard him. There was no way to warn Tully without giving away his position, so he stayed quiet. He heard the jeep leave the wadi a moment later. Despite straining his ears, he didn't hear any sounds from the wadi after the cars followed Tully. He heard the shots fired at the fleeing jeep and hoped Tully would be okay.

With Tully drawing the patrol away, Hitch turned to making his own escape. He climbed shakily to his feet, breathing out unsteadily. His knee buckled under his weight, taking him to the ground again. This time he held onto a rock for support until he managed to get his balance. He did a quick assessment of his injuries: one sprained knee, a bruised shoulder that still worked but would probably get stiff, and a collection of scrapes on his hands. Not too bad considering the circumstances. He was still mobile, if moving slower than normal.

He took a wobbly step in the dark and his foot came down on something on the ground. When he reached down, he felt the slick stock of his rifle. Picking it up, he ran his hands over it, checking for damage. The front sight was bent to one side and he knew he couldn't risk firing it without cleaning the dirt from the barrel first. He swung the sling over his shoulder and started walking away from the wadi. His only chance was to get away from the wadi before the German patrol could lose Tully and return.

Limping across the desert, he began to plan his next move. He knew he couldn't get far with a bad knee and that the Germans would be coming to investigate the wadi as soon as it got light. The hills leading into the desert were his best chance to stay out of sight until the others could come back and pick him up. There wasn't much shelter anywhere, but even a bad shelter was better than none at all. He kept walking until he heard the sound of German motors.

The patrol returned after losing Tully. He watched their lights as they circled the wadi before driving in. The arrival of the column killed any hope that the Germans would make a quick inspection and return to their base. He stayed in the dips between the hills, just in case the Germans used spotlights to search the area. They didn't, but the precaution also allowed him to stay on fairly level ground that didn't aggravate the knee. He kept moving until German patrols began to drive around the hills in their search for intruders. A deep hollow gave him enough protection from a casual search. Dropping to his good knee, he dug the hole a little deeper and pulled his coat around his shoulders to protect him from the cold. He settled in to keep an eye on the search.

The sky was getting lighter and Hitch still hadn't seen any sign of the others. From his hiding place the Germans around the wadi were moving shadows. They had turned on search lights to examine any evidence Tully and Hitch had left behind. He knew they wouldn't find much. Tully had policed the camp right after the sergeants left, just in case they had to leave in a hurry. But the lights helped him to see what they were doing. One by one the patrol cars stopped circling the area and returned to the base or to the wadi.

As the light improved, he noticed more soldiers walking around the slopes that surrounded the wadi. He checked the wind; it was strong enough to have erased most of his tracks. It didn't occur to him that the slope would have protected the tracks near where he landed when he fell. When the soldiers stopped at the bottom of the slope and began to act excited, he knew they'd found some of his tracks.

A staff car drove around the wadi and stopped next to the tracks. Two patrol cars joined it and an officer climbed out to study the evidence. He pointed toward the hill where Hitch waited. When the cars headed toward him, Hitch slipped out of his hole and made a run for it. He knew he wouldn't get far, but he wasn't going to make it any easier on them than absolutely necessary. The ruined rifle banged against his back as he stumbled across the small hill and out the other side. Once on the of the desert floor he ran as hard as he could with his sore knee.

When Moffitt opened fire with his 50 Hitch spun around to face the sound. His knee gave out and he fell to the ground. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he watched the brief fight. He groaned aloud as Troy, and then Tully, was forced to turn aside under the attacks from the halftracks. The arrival of the patrol cars sealed the deal. They surrounded him so that neither jeep stood a chance of making it through.

Soldiers jumped from the patrol cars and began to wave their guns in his face, shouting at him the whole time. He raised his hands, letting the rifle fall from his shoulder. A captain arrived and gave the orders to take him back to the base. He was tied and hustled into a patrol car. At the base he was taken to a cell and left alone.

He circled the cell, taking in all of the details in perhaps ten seconds. Four steps in one direction, four in the other; not a large cell at all. There was only one cot and that took up almost half the room. There were no windows, not even in the door. A single dim bulb concealed behind a heavy metal screen provided the only light. Stone made up the walls, solid looking and cold. The door was metal too, thick and heavy, on large, well-oiled hinges. The lock looked as if it would take a safe cracker to open without the key. Hitch didn't have the key so he sat down to wait and see what would happen next.

He didn't have long to wait. Less than an hour after his capture he was taken from the cell, bound, and escorted to the base commander's office. The guards knocked on the door and pushed him into the office. Hitch caught his balance and looked around the room. The office was lavish, suggesting that the base commander liked his comforts. Pictures and flags decorated the walls. A bust of Hitler sat on top of a bookcase. A polished desk was the focal point of the room, neat and well organized.

The captain from earlier stood behind the desk staring at him. He had his hands clasp behind his back, reminding Hitch of Dietrich. But that was where the similarities ended. Where Dietrich was fair, this officer was dark. Dietrich was tall and slender; this officer was a full three inches shorter than Hitch and heavier by twenty-five pounds. Dietrich carried himself with confidence while this officer seemed more arrogant. Dietrich spoke softly, asking questions; this officer yelled at Hitch, demanding answers until he realized that the prisoner didn't speak German.

Taking a step back, the officer had Hitch tied to the chair. He walked around the desk and sat in the chair to study the American. One of the guards ran from the room while the other one kept Hitch covered.

The officer continued to stare at him. Hitch stared back for a moment before he decided that his time would be better spent trying to see what security the office utilized. The more he knew the better his chance of finding an opportunity to escape. After several minutes of waiting, he realized that security was very heavy. He counted three guards passing the window in as many minutes.

A disturbance in the hall interrupted his thoughts. The guard returned with another man in tow. The captain immediately addressed the newcomer. After listening for a moment, the newcomer turned to Hitch.

"The captain wants to know where your friends are right now."

"How would I know," Hitch replied, "they left me."

The captain didn't appear to like Hitch's answer. He shouted another question at the interpreter.

"What was your mission here?"

Hitch looked directly at the officer and began to recite his name, rank, and service number. This time the captain didn't wait for a translation. His hand came around and slapped Hitch across the face. The blow nearly knocked the chair over but one of the guards reached out and caught it before it could fall. He set the chair back on its four legs and stepped out of the way.

"The captain says he can continue this until he gets the answers he wants," the interpreter warned. "You would be wise to answer his questions."

"I guess I'm not too smart," Hitch answered. Hitch smiled at the officer.

The next blow was to his ribs. The fist connected and took his breath away. The third blow shoved the chair back a few inches. Hitch looked at eh captain without speaking, his silence answer enough. The next couple of blows came fast, with no time in between for questions or answers. Hitch was gasping for breath when the interpreter asked him another question.

"Were you sent here to kill the general?"

Hitch looked up and put on his best innocent look. "What general?"

"General Vertag."

"Who?"

"General Vertag was in the staff car. He was wounded by someone in one of the jeeps. Was that your mission?"

"I don't know anything about that," Hitch answered. "I wasn't in the jeeps."

The captain looked furious when Hitch's answer was translated.

"The captain thinks you are here to kill the general. He wants to know how you plan to do it."

"I don't have a plan," Hitch gasped. "I was just told to watch for patrols."

"Just watch for patrols?"

"That's all I know," Hitch insisted.

The captain punched him in the ribs again.

Hitch began to recite his name and rank again but was interrupted by a commotion in the hall. A soldier rushed into the room and began to give an excited report. Hitch heard the word American mentioned several times, but that was about all he understood. The captain sent the soldier back out of the office and turned to Hitch with a smile. He made a speech for the translator to give Hitch.

"Your friends have been seen not far from here. Our men are already on their trail. Before long you will have company in your cell."

Hitch didn't answer.

The guards took him from the chair and escorted him back to his cell. They turned out the light so he had to sit in the dark. Hitch leaned against the wall and hoped that the captain was wrong.