TITLE: A SPOT OF TROUBLE
AUTHOR: Meercat
RATING: Strong PG-13
WARNINGS: Violence, some torture, drama, angst
AUTHOR'S THANKS: To Patti and Marg for their wonderful beta of this story. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to those of you who have contacted me regarding the German and/or French translations. I apologize for any errors. I used an online translator that apparently wasn't worth its bandwidth. (facepalm) Again, my apologies.
Chapter 8
Captain von Hippel discarded the makeshift whip. He might return to it later. In the meantime, he preferred variety in his interrogations. It amused him and kept his victim off balance and unprepared.
Having built up a sweat, von Hippel shrugged out of his great coat and laid it across the sawhorse then retrieved Carter's knife from the other end of the wooden frame. Without looking at his prisoner, he withdrew the blade from its sheath, tossed it into the air, and caught it again by the rubber hilt. Illumination from the kerosene lamps and flashlight glistened off the blade and threw rainbows against the barn's gray walls.
"A nice weapon. Excellent balance. Fine craftsmanship. German, of course. Where did you get it?"
A single mantra rolled over and over through Carter's jumbled thoughts.
Can't tell them anything. The Colonel, Peter, Louie, Kinch, all the others. If I talk, they'll die. Can't mess this up. Be Schultz. Know nothing. Say nothing.
"A 'pretty one' like you must have many friends in your army, yes? Strong friends, man friends. They take good care of you, do they not?"
Mind flirting with the edge of unconsciousness, Carter blinked the haze from his blackened eyes and stared at the SS captain. The questions made no sense. Something dirty, even slimy, lay beneath the officer's words.
He didn't understand. Yes, he had friends--what soldier didn't? Most of them were strong. Like the colonel. And Kinch was strong enough to break a board in two if he wanted or if Colonel Hogan asked it of him. And yes, they took good care of him, just as he watched out for them. What did the captain mean? What was he after?
"You think of yourself as a man as well, do you not?" The officer laughed and moved the knife in a figure-eight at hip level. "I wonder if you would still think so if I were to remove that thing which all men value most highly."
Carter shuddered and closed his eyes. Terror squeezed the breath from his lungs. His heart lurched, paused, fluttered, and raced. He wanted desperately to escape the torment by fainting dead away. He fought the instinct to lose all bodily control but could not hold back a wimper of fear.
"Ah, you understand English, at least. Now we are getting somewhere."
Captain von Hippel picked up a long, narrow, dark object from off the floor and flicked away clinging strips of rotting hay. He weighed the new object against the knife in his opposite hand. Smiling, he took a single step forward.
"You will answer my questions now, yes?"
HH
It was a simple matter to undermine the windmill's tripod support. Termites and rot had weakened the leg closest to the German's car. Burrowing animals and harsh weather had undermined its base. Getting the brittle structure to fall would not be a problem. The trick would be to bring it down where they wanted it and not on top their own heads.
Using a rope Kinch had brought from camp, Newkirk tied one end around what looked to be the weakest section. The two men retreated to what they hoped would be a safe distance. A glance showed Hogan and LeBeau in position in front of the barn. The Colonel signaled the go-ahead an instant before Andrew Carter screamed.
Spurred by the horrendous sound, the two men yanked on the rope with all their strength. The first try earned only a weak groan from the wood and the scratching, flapping, aerial escape of chittering bats from the upper framework. On the second try, the wood gave a sharp pop. The entire structure shuddered as if in pain. They coordinated their strength and pulled a third time.
The wood cracked like a shotgun blast. The sudden lack of resistance landed Ivan and Peter on their backs. With a torturous growl of fractured wood and warping metal, the windmill swayed first left then right, threatening to fall first one way then the other. The men scrambled clear.
With a sound like a dying thing, the windmill finally tipped sideways like a downed pine tree, directly on top of the German staff car.
HH
"Was das war? (What was that?)" Captain von Hippel dropped the knife in his surprise. His hand went to his holstered sidearm. "Gehen sie sehen! (Go see!)"
The two German corporals, rifles held ready, stepped through the barn door to investigate the noise. The shorter of the two came back to report.
"Herr Hauphman, die windmühle hat auf das auto eingestürzt. (Sir, the windmill has collapsed onto the car.)"
"Es was! (It what!)"
HH
Hogan signaled LeBeau to stay out of sight around the far corner of the building even as he himself crouched behind a tangled roll of fencing wire. Taking out the two guards would not be enough. They had to get the SS captain to come out to survey the damage.
Two figures stepped into the doorway and looked out. The smaller one disappeared back inside. German voices exchanged brief dialogue then the two rifle-armed soldiers were back, followed by a third figure holding an automatic pistol.
Hogan's first bullet hit the SS captain in the left temple, the second his chest. The enemy officer, the entire right side of his head blown away, crumbled to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut.
The non-coms dove for cover well clear of one another and returned fire. One bullet fired by the German behind an overturned water barrel burned a path through Peter Newkirk's hair but did not break skin. Tufts of earth exploded in starlike bursts all around his position behind a pile of discarded debris.
The other man, hunkered behind a stack of moldy, moss-covered logs, chose a closer target. A line of fire from his weapon tore splinters of wood from the barn's side but did no damage to LeBeau. One bullet ricocheted off the barn door hinge and raked across Hogan's back, leaving a shallow furrow across his right shoulder blade.
Fearing that a stray shot through either the open door or the thin barn wall would hit Carter, Hogan signaled Kinchloe to circle around behind the two German non-coms. LeBeau and Newkirk increased their fire, pinning the enemy in place long enough for Kinch to reach the best position to provide crossfire.
The exchange lasted some sixty seconds. The enemy soldiers, recognizing their sour position, shouted to one another and planned to seek the dubious cover of the woods.
Before they could move to better cover, automatic fire from the shadows beneath the trees took them out.