The collected Rats eyed Miles Merry as he swept into the mess hall. Most of the men in the mess hall were staring, and the blond settled onto the bench next to Tully, sweeping up a bottle of ketchup to add to the powdered eggs.
"Clothes," Miles, unperturbed, sipped the coffee and grimaced. "This coffee sucks." Before draining the entire cup. The men at the opposite table were staring, a few of them laughing. "Quick question, when can Helen escape the ladies quarters?"
"We're meeting with her after breakfast," Sam turned toward the men laughing, who quickly averted their eyes and voices. "What happened to your pants?"
"I'm assuming someone traded them for a skirt," Miles answered, ignoring how red Hitch's face was getting. "While I was sleeping." He began to methodically clear his tray.
"I didn't realize they let broads eat with us." A corporal slide next to Miles, grinning broadly. He didn't flinch or hesitate when Merry turned his direction.
"They don't, here. Trade me." Exchanging his empty cup for one held loosely in the corporal's hands, he drained it in a single gulp. "Okay, you can go now." With a slight push, Merry turned to Sam. His fun cut short, the corporal slunk off with wounded pride. "So."
"What the hell?" Hitch demanded, "aren't you going to do anything?"
"I'm eating breakfast."
"Drink water," Sam decided to ignore the insanity near him. It wasn't worth the effort to get upset or something so stupid this early in the morning.
"Right."
"You're wearing a skirt." Hitch leaned across the table, "don't you give a damn?"
"Someone broke into my room and messed with my clothes concerns me more than wearing a skirt. Besides, they're only going to get a laugh out of it if I react. The joke isn't funny if I don't care about it, so stop feeding the fire and eat your….shingles. What is that?"
"It's toast."
"That is building material," Miles scoffed. "I know bread. I make great bread. That is what bread becomes when it's been dead for ten years."
Sam glanced to Moffitt, who was enjoying his cup of tea and ignoring all of them. And then to Tully who was wholly unconcerned with the proceedings. The only person upset was Hitch, and given that it was his echo walking around in one of the women's auxiliary skirts, he had a decent reason to be annoyed.
"What if a girl thinks you're me?" Hitch demanded, voice falling to a dangerous, hissing whisper that must have sparked a real response in his twin.
"Tell them I'm your sister." Hitch gasped, his mouth working on a response that doubtlessly would have started a fight, but Troy shook his head.
"Give it a rest, Hitch." He ordered, and the blond's mouth clicked shut face flushing. "Miles, where are your pants?"
"No idea? But we'll see how long it takes for them to show up again."
"You're going to wait?" His driver growled.
"Sure." Supremely unconcerned, Miles finished off the last of his breakfast. "Doc, what about Helen?"
"We'll meet with her later. We." He paused. "Why does this concern you?"
"She's my partner," he replied, " she concerns me."
"Right," the man shrugged. "We got a rather." A man approached their table.
"Sergeant Troy?"
"Yes?"
"Captain Boggs wants to see you." He eyed the men. "Just you and Sergeant Moffitt."
"Sure," setting his fork down, he gestured at Miles as he spoke to Tully." Keep an eye on him."
"Sure, sarge." Tully nodded, and Troy shifted his hat to his head as they entered the bright sunlight. Across the base and back in the man's office, he found himself staring down the barrel of a deeply unhappy Boggs.
"We've got an excuse for you to return to San Lorenzo."
"Sir?"
"The Red Cross has set up a temporary aid station there, and people from all over are going to be going for help, vaccinations, and supplies. I want you to go, make sure the Germans are getting in the way, and check up on that Jap."
"What do you want us to do with Helen Moffitt and Miles Merry?"
"At this point, Sergeant. I'm not sure what they can do, but I don't want them on this base. Keep a close eye on them, and watch their every step."
"Yes, sir." Troy hesitated. "And what about the poet?"
"What about him? Figure out what he's doing, watch where he's going, and make sure he doesn't end up with the Germans."
"Yes, sir."
"You really think he's a poet?"
"He's something, sir."
"Get going."
"Yes, sir." Troy obediently retreated, and hoped to God that there wasn't an insane SS officer about to ruin his day.
#$#$#$#
His first glimpse of his maternal great-grandfather's enemy was of a tall man, lean, weatherworn, and aristocratic with better manners than his aide. Still, it wasn't the German officer who caught his attention, though that had been the case in the beginning. It was the woman with him.
His initial reaction had been to weep for joy at seeing someone else from the future. She wore hiking shoes that could have only come from 21st-century retailers, and her manner was all modern even if she almost blended into the crowd of Germans. His second reaction, spotting the guards and the guns and the bandages on her fingers, was to weep in despair at the fact that she was obviously a prisoner. Which wasn't great all things considered. His third reaction had been to swoon, and ruthlessly quash the thoughts of how fit and broad she was. Tall, broad-shouldered, and standing with utter confidence, she held no trace of fear in her soft brown eyes.
How to tell her that he was from the 21st century too? Would she get an Avatar reference?
They had passed from silent staring contest into weird, uncomfortable eye contact territory, and he cleared his throat.
"What brings you to San Lorenzo, Senor Capitan?" They turned to the mayor, who was still eyeing the woman with visible suspicion. He missed the faint embarrassment that slipped into dark brown eyes.
"A short personal visit," Dietrich replied, "and to ensure that the Red Cross hospital has not been disturbed."
"Not at all like last time," the man scoffed, visibly annoyed. Dietrich stiffened, and Isshiki stole a glance at Tulip, who was giving the captain a flat stare.
"That is the intention," he replied, visibly biting back what had to be a sarcastic response.
"When is mass?" Tulip interrupted.
"Mass ended an hour ago."
"Oh...is the priest still around?"
"You will find him in the building behind the church," the mayor tilted his head. Dietrichs' brown eyes narrowed.
"Great," slipping her hat off her head, she smacked the captain's shoulder. "Pick me up at the church later, captain." Isshiki's hand fell to the hilt of his sword as the Captain's arm was thrust out, and crossed over her collarbone. "Frauline Tulip." She stopped, eyes flickering down to his arm and then sideways, the first hint of genuine emotion crossing her face.
"You have something against priests?"
"I have no intention of losing my guest, Frauline Tulip."
"If you can't track me down in this town in less than ten minutes you deserve to be a private." Lifting a finger, she pressed it against his elbow, slowly, steadily pushing the offending limb away. "Besides, confession is a personal thing."
The captain conceded, visibly displeased, and Isshiki felt it was time to interject.
" What is confession ?" He asked the man, who hesitated.
" Go ask the priest ." Mayor Banderas answered. "The doctors are this way, Captain Dietrich. If you want to speak to them."
"I do."
" What is confession ?" Isshiki asked the park ranger, who paused.
" Go ask the priest," she repeated and given that instruction. He decided to follow. She paused, turning around to stare at him. " What ?"
" I will ask the priest, " He repeated, keenly aware of his host's presence.
" Are you so curious ?"
" Should I not be?" She didn't know he was from the future, and he wondered if anyone would give them a chance to be alone. "Cowboy?"
The German officer began to smile, and the woman's eyebrows rose. She shifted, closing the distance between them, soft brown eyes skipping over his face and then his clothes. He returned the open stare, taking particular time to admire her shapely arms, the narrow scar along her neck that only someone this close would notice, and the faint sweat-stains on her hat.
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Satisfaction resurrected him," Issihiki answered, refusing to back down from what had to be the most polite attempt at intimidation he'd ever suffered. None of the obnoxious, tedious grandstanding he was used to, only the firm, quiet assurance of someone who trusted in themselves completely. " I did come to understand the Spanish ." His hand hadn't lifted from his sword, a gesture she'd clearly seen. If she thought it was a threat, she made no mention of it.
" Alright ." Park Ranger Tulip gestured with her, a grand movement that doubled as a mocking invitation. " Come on ." Their departure was halted as a soldier came running.
$#$#$#
"Captain!" The peculiar show-down between the park ranger and poet was shoved from his mind as a man came running. "Herr Hauptmann!"
Turning and giving the man such a glare that it could have vaporized him on the spot, sent the man stumbling to a halt. Shaking, he saluted rapidly. "What is it?"
"The Rat Patrol is approaching," he said frantically. This particular soldier hadn't been in the desert long, and he had been pumped with stories of the Rat Patrol's deadly capabilities. The terror was clear to see but easily dismissed.
"Let them approach," he gritted his teeth, "doubtless they have approached San Lorenzo to ensure the treaty is being followed."
"Yes, sir." The man saluted.
"Remember, we are in neutral territory. This is not where we wish to start a fight." He hesitated, as the man ran off, Dietrich realized that this would be the perfect place for Frauline Tulip to escape. A neutral town, and the Americans would never allow him to leave with one of their country women.
He couldn't give Frauline Tulip back, she was the key to finding a water source, and such a key could not be handed over to the thrice damned Rat Patrol. "Frauline Tulip, please come with me."
"What?" The woman blinked, something like genuine surprise covered her face. "What's going on?"
"There is danger approaching," he lied, and while he didn't seize her elbow, he did step close enough to do so if the need arose.
"Danger? In a neutral town?"
"Yes," he glanced at the poet. "Corporal Meltzer will return you to the safety of our base, "Frauline. I do apologize that your visit was cut short."
"So am I," but she went willingly enough. "We'll come back...I guess."
"Certainly," he lied, and when he saw that the woman was tucked safely into a staff car and out of view of the approaching Rat Patrol, he decided to see himself to the temporary hospital to intercept the Rats before they made a nuisance of themselves.