From ten feet away, the dragon stomps its clawed feet as it gurgles gibberish through the mesh-covered open mouth. In the weak light of the Hall of Recreation, its feldgrau scales tipped with gold lack our key grip's expert lighting to lend sparkling glamor and danger. As it stands, only the cerise spine crest head-to-tail brightens the rubber suit. Eh, Tail End straightens his spine to greet his comrades. I shall weep if the connection loosens again, but it does not.
"Cor, you two, wotta sight you are," chortles the Englander. The colonel focuses on me but the others surge to the dragon. The four men lean in closely to hear an account, I suppose, of what Manfredi and Johnson put up with helping me stage Ereleuva, a turgid, ambitious fifth entry to Wagner's Ring Cycle penned by Herr Goebbels himself.
Hogan allows one minute of reunion and then inclines his head wordlessly towards the door; the Englander and the American with springy hair drift to the entry after polite pleased to meet yous as they pass me. I note how they secure the area, one leaning casually against the door to block easy entry as the other engages him in conversation to provide covering background noise for Schultz's curious ear, if he thinks to eavesdrop. Obvious, is it not, that these soldiers team together as much as troupers in a successful, year long stage engagement?
The others clot around as I shoulder my way inside the tight group of the youngest appearing American, the Frenchman and the American colonel to play the sun while the three orbit me. Hmmm, the commander could be Mars, which would make the youngest a quicksilver Mercury and the Frenchman a languid Venus. I see now that the red sweater sports a discreet rank or unit patch on the shoulder, so French good taste triumphs over Kantian ideals of a uniform. I approve. Idle notions like these make my Georg consult my opinion about our films together. I wonder how the day proceeds with small Gaby and her loving pappa.
"Let us push on, because I must return to my husband at the hotel in two and a half hours. I must feed my seven month-old Kleine. She will be hungry."
"Can't your husband feed her? I mean, come on, it's not that hard." The youngest's face shows honest puzzlement.
This is too outrageous a comment to let pass. I put on the face I used in Woman of My Dreams, a triumph at the Axis powers' box office just this summer. Georg calls it my sly Marlene Dietrich face. "I can tell you from experience, that doesn't always work."
"Carter!" explodes Hogan. I feel certain this one does not blush often, yet now his ears burn a becoming shade of crimson. "Think about it."
Carter does. "Oh."
"We won't keep you long." The man becomes all business, so I must, as well.
I fish the slip of paper from the top of my stocking, just under the garter. "Here. I overheard this place name and the word 'soon' at a cast wrap party. The atmosphere at the smörgåsbord dripped with triumph between Goebbels and the others in line; I do not know more. You westerners have the information, and in two weeks our crew travels to Czech Revar to pass this name to the Russian contact. She intimates to me she has used you before."
Hogan's ears burn the uppermost hue of Hungary's tricolor once more and is that disgust or acceptance on the handsome face? "If it's who I think it is, used is the word, all right."
"I see," I say. He thinks, remembers, and then continues.
"How is Goebbels these days, gnädige Frau?"
I shrug. If time permits, I can banish his execrable German accent. "He promotes my work, but he is hard to like therefore I do not like him. I am an actress so I pretend to like him and this" - I flourish the slip of paper before stuffing it into the colonel's grasp - "rewards me and now you."
He secures the paper into his cap swiftly before his eyes widen as if my words register at last to spark protective instincts. "Don't take your baby to Czech Revar!" he bursts out. "I hear terrible things go on there - "
"It is no Széchenyi Spa, true. Have you seen Czech Revar?"
"Well, no - "
"I have and it is as pleasant a land as I have visited. Our crew goes to shoot backgrounds of the mountains for Ereleuva."
He pushes. "Aren't there enough mountains in Germany? Do you have to travel so far?" I recognize the signs of one well used to control. We do not have time for this.
"Kamerad, colonel, I give up. Ask Georg because he is my director in all things and the father of my child. He would not risk us."
"You are more trusting than the law allows," mutters Hogan before changing the subject. He removes his cap to peer at the name on the paper. "Losheim." His intense concentration and crinkled brow prods my memory of the cast party I viewed through a mist of schnapps.
"I, I think that Herr Goebbels said that a, a bold push comes through the Losheim gap."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBConcluded.
IOIOIOIO
