Chapter 6
Rick brought his binoculars up and surveyed the courtyard of the building across the street. Next to him, Jonathan and Evie were crouching on the rooftop and followed his line of sight. "Looks like the soldiers are moving out."
Evie glanced at her brother in confusion. "Where to? I doubt highly that Ardeth would have given them the location of Am Shere. He'd rather die than ..." She froze and her eyes mt Ricks'. "Oh Lord, you don"t think ...?"
Rick held her glance. "Let's not jump to conclusions, Evie." he said. "He knows we'd come for him. And he's too stubborn to die."
Jonathan tried to make out more in the courtyard below them. "Maybe the Germans got him to tell them what they wanted to know without killing him."
Evie shook her head. "You don't believe that as much as I do."
Rick took a deep breath. "Evie, you wait here. Jonathan, you're with me."
Jonathan gasped and his eyes went wide. "O'Connell, I don't think that's such a good ..."
Rick turned and threw him a serious glance. Jonathan swallowed hard. "Right, I'm with you. No problem, old chum."
*
Rick and Jonathan hid in the shadows across the street from the German station and watched the entrance. There didn't seem to be much activity going on. Suddenly Rick pushed them both back against the wall, a hand over Jonathan's mouth. Jonathan wanted to ask what was going on, but the figure of two German soldiers passing each other and stopping only feet away from them, stopped him in his tracks.
The two soldiers saluted. "Kalt heute." they heard one say.
"Saukalt."
"Na, ich gehe wieder in die Wache um den arabischen Gefangenen nochmal zu verhoeren. Aber erst rauch ich noch eine."
"Gut. Bis spaeter."
As one of the soldiers had walked down the street, the other waitet for a few minutes longer, lighting a cigarette.
"What did he say?" Rick whispered to Jonathan, not knowing how his British friend could know.
Jonathan creased his eyebrows in concentration. "Er, my German is a bit rusty, but I think he said that it was cold and that he was going back into the station to continue interrogating the Arab prisoner, after smoking a cigarette."
"You don't say." Rick sized the soldier up critically and then stepped forward to stand behind the man in the shadows of the buildings. He took a deep breath and tapped him on the shoulder. As the German turned around, Rick smiled and then punched him hard in the face, sending him uncounscious crumbling to the floor. "Sorry," he whispered "But you're just my size."
He dragged the soldier into a dark corner where Jonathan was waiting and began to swap clothing. After a few minutes of battling with the buttons and belt, Rick straightened up the uniform. "The Gefangene?" he asked Jonathan. His friend nodded. "It's 'Der' Gefangene." Jonathan said. "Pronounce the vowels flat."
Rick nodded. "Wait here." he said to Jonathan.
The Brit nodded. "Oh, sure, great plan. I'll just wait here."
"And watch him." Rick added, pointing at the Germand soldier still unconscious on the ground.
Jonathan's eyes went wide. "What? What do you mean 'watch him'? What do I do if he wakes up? Tell him a story or something?"
Rick looked at him then turned around and picked up a piece of pipe from the floor. He handed it to Jonathan who took it and stared at it. "Oh, great, yeah, that'll do!" He turned back at Rick, but the American had already started to walk across the street. "Hey..."
Rick made his way into the station. 'Offense is the best defense', he thought as he walked past the soldier at the entrance. He threw him a cold, annoyed look, saluted and said "Kalte Nacht heute."
The guard at the door looked at him and answered "Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann."
"Der Gefangene?" he asked with all his conviction as he stood in the middle of the room, both arms at crossed in front of his chest, a picture of authority.
"Im Keller." the young soldier said and to Rick's luck, he pointed towards a door at the other side of the room.
Rick nodded and walked straight to the door next to some stairs that were leading upstairs. Next to the door was a keyboard attached to the wall. Rick confidently grabbed the set hanginmg from it and opened the door. It was darker the deeper he climbed the stairs down. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked ahead into a corridor with doors on either side. Around eight of them. He tried one after the other and only found the last one at the end locked. He opened the small window in the top half of the heavy wooden door and looked inside. It was almost totally dark and Rick had difficulty making out the dark figure huddled in the corner in the back of the room. He narrowed his eyes and recognised familiar features, dark shoulder-long hair, the back cloak with the ornamental belt and the tattooes on the cheeks and hands.
"Ardeth!" he called, as loud as he hoped he could get away with without the Germans upstairs hearing him. But there was no reaction from the figure on the floor. Rick reached into his pockets and brought out the set of kys he had taken from the table. One after the other, he tried the keys until one finally locked and opened the door. He pushed inside and rushed over to his Arab friend.
Ardeth had looked up as the door was pushed open and a German soldier walked in. The dark figure stood for a few seconds and surveyed the cell. Then he closed the door behind him and rushed over to where Ardeth lay on the stone floor.
"No..." Ardeth whispered, his breathing laboured and with almost no strength left in his body, he backed himself against the wall. "No more."
"It's okay, Ardeth. It's me, Rick" The dark figure said and the Arab felt a hand gently squeeze his shoulder. "I've come to get you out, buddy."
Ardeth tried his best to focus on the figure in front of him, but everything was still fuzzy and he could not make out more than rough shapes adn shades. "Rick?" he asked hesitantly. Then he shook his head. "No, it's not true. This is another trick of my mind. Leave me alone!"
Rick shook his head and closed both of his hands around the shoulders of his friend. He was worried at he state of the Medjai. "Ardeth! It's true. It's really me. Trust me. I'm real! I'm real!"
"You are real?"
"I"m real."
Ardeth Bay sighed heavily and slumped against him. Rick caught his weight and pulled him up to stand next to him. "Zamira y'ashar ... Zami ... not safe ... they know ... they know ..." Ardeth wishpered exhaustedly and started to go limp in Rick's arms.
"C'mon, budy!" the American said. "Don't pass out on me now. First we need to get out of here."
Rick brought his binoculars up and surveyed the courtyard of the building across the street. Next to him, Jonathan and Evie were crouching on the rooftop and followed his line of sight. "Looks like the soldiers are moving out."
Evie glanced at her brother in confusion. "Where to? I doubt highly that Ardeth would have given them the location of Am Shere. He'd rather die than ..." She froze and her eyes mt Ricks'. "Oh Lord, you don"t think ...?"
Rick held her glance. "Let's not jump to conclusions, Evie." he said. "He knows we'd come for him. And he's too stubborn to die."
Jonathan tried to make out more in the courtyard below them. "Maybe the Germans got him to tell them what they wanted to know without killing him."
Evie shook her head. "You don't believe that as much as I do."
Rick took a deep breath. "Evie, you wait here. Jonathan, you're with me."
Jonathan gasped and his eyes went wide. "O'Connell, I don't think that's such a good ..."
Rick turned and threw him a serious glance. Jonathan swallowed hard. "Right, I'm with you. No problem, old chum."
*
Rick and Jonathan hid in the shadows across the street from the German station and watched the entrance. There didn't seem to be much activity going on. Suddenly Rick pushed them both back against the wall, a hand over Jonathan's mouth. Jonathan wanted to ask what was going on, but the figure of two German soldiers passing each other and stopping only feet away from them, stopped him in his tracks.
The two soldiers saluted. "Kalt heute." they heard one say.
"Saukalt."
"Na, ich gehe wieder in die Wache um den arabischen Gefangenen nochmal zu verhoeren. Aber erst rauch ich noch eine."
"Gut. Bis spaeter."
As one of the soldiers had walked down the street, the other waitet for a few minutes longer, lighting a cigarette.
"What did he say?" Rick whispered to Jonathan, not knowing how his British friend could know.
Jonathan creased his eyebrows in concentration. "Er, my German is a bit rusty, but I think he said that it was cold and that he was going back into the station to continue interrogating the Arab prisoner, after smoking a cigarette."
"You don't say." Rick sized the soldier up critically and then stepped forward to stand behind the man in the shadows of the buildings. He took a deep breath and tapped him on the shoulder. As the German turned around, Rick smiled and then punched him hard in the face, sending him uncounscious crumbling to the floor. "Sorry," he whispered "But you're just my size."
He dragged the soldier into a dark corner where Jonathan was waiting and began to swap clothing. After a few minutes of battling with the buttons and belt, Rick straightened up the uniform. "The Gefangene?" he asked Jonathan. His friend nodded. "It's 'Der' Gefangene." Jonathan said. "Pronounce the vowels flat."
Rick nodded. "Wait here." he said to Jonathan.
The Brit nodded. "Oh, sure, great plan. I'll just wait here."
"And watch him." Rick added, pointing at the Germand soldier still unconscious on the ground.
Jonathan's eyes went wide. "What? What do you mean 'watch him'? What do I do if he wakes up? Tell him a story or something?"
Rick looked at him then turned around and picked up a piece of pipe from the floor. He handed it to Jonathan who took it and stared at it. "Oh, great, yeah, that'll do!" He turned back at Rick, but the American had already started to walk across the street. "Hey..."
Rick made his way into the station. 'Offense is the best defense', he thought as he walked past the soldier at the entrance. He threw him a cold, annoyed look, saluted and said "Kalte Nacht heute."
The guard at the door looked at him and answered "Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann."
"Der Gefangene?" he asked with all his conviction as he stood in the middle of the room, both arms at crossed in front of his chest, a picture of authority.
"Im Keller." the young soldier said and to Rick's luck, he pointed towards a door at the other side of the room.
Rick nodded and walked straight to the door next to some stairs that were leading upstairs. Next to the door was a keyboard attached to the wall. Rick confidently grabbed the set hanginmg from it and opened the door. It was darker the deeper he climbed the stairs down. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked ahead into a corridor with doors on either side. Around eight of them. He tried one after the other and only found the last one at the end locked. He opened the small window in the top half of the heavy wooden door and looked inside. It was almost totally dark and Rick had difficulty making out the dark figure huddled in the corner in the back of the room. He narrowed his eyes and recognised familiar features, dark shoulder-long hair, the back cloak with the ornamental belt and the tattooes on the cheeks and hands.
"Ardeth!" he called, as loud as he hoped he could get away with without the Germans upstairs hearing him. But there was no reaction from the figure on the floor. Rick reached into his pockets and brought out the set of kys he had taken from the table. One after the other, he tried the keys until one finally locked and opened the door. He pushed inside and rushed over to his Arab friend.
Ardeth had looked up as the door was pushed open and a German soldier walked in. The dark figure stood for a few seconds and surveyed the cell. Then he closed the door behind him and rushed over to where Ardeth lay on the stone floor.
"No..." Ardeth whispered, his breathing laboured and with almost no strength left in his body, he backed himself against the wall. "No more."
"It's okay, Ardeth. It's me, Rick" The dark figure said and the Arab felt a hand gently squeeze his shoulder. "I've come to get you out, buddy."
Ardeth tried his best to focus on the figure in front of him, but everything was still fuzzy and he could not make out more than rough shapes adn shades. "Rick?" he asked hesitantly. Then he shook his head. "No, it's not true. This is another trick of my mind. Leave me alone!"
Rick shook his head and closed both of his hands around the shoulders of his friend. He was worried at he state of the Medjai. "Ardeth! It's true. It's really me. Trust me. I'm real! I'm real!"
"You are real?"
"I"m real."
Ardeth Bay sighed heavily and slumped against him. Rick caught his weight and pulled him up to stand next to him. "Zamira y'ashar ... Zami ... not safe ... they know ... they know ..." Ardeth wishpered exhaustedly and started to go limp in Rick's arms.
"C'mon, budy!" the American said. "Don't pass out on me now. First we need to get out of here."
