BANG! Pearl wasted no time pulling the trigger. The bullet traveled for 2 seconds.
000 Fish Stew Pizza - present day
The morning light flooded through the shops windows casting a warm glow through the small shop, the strong scent of pizza baking permeated the warm morning air. Pearl sat in the corner sipping from a cup of strong black coffee reviewing her notes for the days talk. Looking up at the sound of the door chime she waved to Ronaldo setting up his laptop at his favorite spot closest to the wifi modem. Smiling she took another long gulp to finish the cup, she was partial to deserts but the taste of the bitter black liquid had lately been sparking deep memories from her past. While not all the memories were good, stars what an understatement, but it was balanced by the few good memories and the need to get in the right frame of mind.
Besides, the last year had been very therapeutic to finally get the memories aired out but this wasn't just another session. This one had a specific topic she'd been avoiding for awhile.
Returning to her notes she didn't look up when the door chimed a few more times announcing more customers to listen to the morning stories. Some familiar voices said hello, others took their seats quietly making little noise, still more were just hungry and ordered pizza. Pulling a pensile from her hair she scratched some extra notes to remind herself of names (much to her surprise) she'd almost forgotten.
"The teachers outfit suits you well, you look good in it." said a voice, one she recalled form just a few days ago. Looking up she saw the lanky figure of Ron whom she'd met the club a few days ago at the Halloween party. "Sorry I missed the previous story telling session. I hadn't planned on attending at all but curiosity got me checking the internet and I found this blog written by someone named R-Fry and someone else called insert name from book."
Pearl leaned over to see if Ronaldo had noticed the conversation. He hadn't due to his ears covered with headphones and engrossed in typing on his keyboard.
Returning her attention to Ron she motioned for him to have a seat over near the young blogger. "Please have a seat, I'm glad you could find time to make it and I hope you learn something about that dreadful uniform you wore to the party."
Ron sheepishly scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah, we, uh, decided not to keep it. We donated it to the local holocaust museum with a few copies of grandpas stories sent along with it. We figured they could use it to tell a better story than us being idiots with it."
Pearl smiled brightly. "Yes, that is a great solution, very considerate and I'm sure they'll get good use out of it in the museum collection."
Satisfied that the question of the uniform was resolved Ron took his indicated seat. Setting her now empty cup aside she finished her notes then cleared her throat to get her audience's attention.
"Good morning and thank you for attending today's story session. I'm happy to see some new faces in the audience and glad to see some of you are recording for me, thank you. Now today comes to a highlight of my adventures, this story takes place in the fall of 1942 during the battle for control of North Africa against Rommel. Dedicated Assassination missions were very rare due to the typically high cost, high risk, low reward nature but command made an exception."
000 Siwa Oasis - 6 October 1942
It was the end of a long day of mission planning, the meetings had seemed endless, briefings and reviews, requisition forms, and equipment checks. Everywhere men were busy with preparations, equipment was being setup and all over the personnel of the SAS and LRDP groups wore themselves ragged to be ready for mission launch on schedule. Out near the edge of the oasis camp, a group of soldiers were finishing up their dinner under the shade of palm trees on the edge of the water. Having finished their mission planning the group was taking some much needed R&R at a makeshift theater with a few campfires providing lighting.
"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!" shouted the actor dramatically tossing his wooden sword out into the desert. The gladiator, Maximus, as he was calling himself was portraying the rise, fall, and redemption of a famous Roman general. "Here me Romans, is this blood enough! Is the blood of the slaves not enough! Here we are in deadly contest and for what! Your entertainment!" Pausing dramatically the actor fell to his knees, "we are still human, not animals"
Pearl rolled her eyes at this and leaned into James who automatically put his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. "The show is fine but the history is all wrong, the Gladiators were not all slaves and many were actually volunteers!. They had patrons and were often treated like prized stallions to keep them healthy and in fighting shape. After all, if you were placing bets or settling grievances it wouldn't due for your representative fighter to be broken before the fight began." she complained to her partner. "I should know, I was there for a few events."
Pettigrew chuckled incredulously, his attention now on Pearl rather than the actors preparing the next act. "You cannot be serious; no way anything is that old. You don't look a day over 30. Besides, I thought all the history books and movies showed them as total slaves."
Frank punched the young private playfully. "Oy, little sisters age is a sensitive topic around here, and further, if she says she was there then she was there and thats good enough for me."
Pettigrew rubbed his arm sorely, "Not so hard you wanker. I need that arm for shooting."
An hour later the performance was finished and the squad made their way back to the yurt they had come to call home. It was a bit worse for wear having been packed and unpacked several times as the squads base of operations had been shifted. Their current location had exchanged hands between the warring nations several times over the past year and presently it was setup in a clearing a German squad had previously occupied. When they had first arrived there were still helmets, cooking utensils, a picnic table, other minor camp amenities conveniently already setup. As a joke Moffitt had posted a clipboard with some campsite reviews giving it 4 stars.
Flinging aside the curtains that served as its entrance they filed into the dimly lit interior, the gust of displaced air sending loose dust and papers swirling. As they took their places at the camp-table each paused a moment to touch two small portraits, one for each for the lost George and Darren Williams. Frowning Pearl realized they never did learn George's last name, apparently he didn't find it important enough owing to not having any notable family to make it worth keeping. "I pray to the stars we never need to add another photo"
Moffitt looked up from where he was inscribing notes into several books that the squad would be using to make sure everyone knew their orders and attack plans. Flexing his fingers to relieve the strain of manual writing he leaned back in his chair to inspect the soldiers standing at attention. "At ease, please be seated team."
Once the squad was seated Moffitt began a review of the planning from the past few days of final preparations. They reviewed vehicles, star-maps, objectives, and everything that goes into a high risk operation deep behind enemy lines. Finally he handed out thick manila envelopes, each one wax-coated to repel water and thick with extra padding. Opening the envelope her breath caught in her throat at the face gazing back at her.
She's already known the target, already mentally prepared herself (at least she had thought she had) but holding Aldebert's photo in her hands made it real. It looked like a normal portrait of any middle aged German man, except for the large officers cap with the insignia of a Raven clutching a diamond.
"Are you okay Pearl? Command to Pearl? Come in Pearl" She tore her gaze from the picture to see the rest of the squad staring back at her.
"You okay little sister?" asked Frank. "You good for this one? I know you have some personal connection to the target. But don't forget that he is the enemy."
"Yeah, yes, I'm fine. Just a little shaken is all to have a known face attached to someone I'm about to hunt down and kill on purpose." replied Pearl steadying herself. "I'm good."
"Any news about the mind control device? The one that showed up a few weeks ago? Are we going to try and recover that or stop it somehow?" Asked James looking through the notes.
"Negative, another group is dealing with that, they have some quick reaction bombers ready and we've figured out the conditions when the enemy feels they can use it. Shouldn't be a problem much longer unless the Germans switch tactics or get smart." answered Moffitt.
Pearl cursed under her breath but said nothing. The device had made three more appearances but of those the last one was foiled when a lucky patrol stumbled across the transmitters. There had been a brief battle but the trucks had gotten away when reinforcements had shown up.
Moffitt nodded, "Okay, dismissed everyone, go rest. We got a big mission tomorrow."
Fetching her rifle from next to her cot she cleared a space from all the planning maps to begin the ritual of cleaning. Closing her fell into a meditative state while her hands worked from memory to expertly disassemble it and clean every peace as she went. The cleaning of the rifle was always calming for her, a way to take something complex, break it into simple parts, then put it back together better than it was.
She was half-way through when a loud BANG jolted her from her rest. Instantly whirled around knocking the bench to the floor sending several rifle components with it into the dirt poised in a combat stance. Searching for something to fight her eyes, her body poised for battle, the rifles bayonet in her raised hand and the other raised in a defensive block ready to lash out.
Before her a white faced Pvt Tully Pettigrew stood with a look of mixed horror and shock staring back at her. In his hands was the remains of a paper bag held close to an equally startled James.
"Um, I was trying to prank James, he seemed a little uptight. Sorry I,um, didn't think this one through enough." mumbled Tully meekly not yet realizing the danger he had put himself in.
Pearl's eyes narrowed, a mad grin formed on her face. "Pvt Pettigrew" her voice mellow and sweat.
"Yes Maam?" whimpered the Pvt.
"Run."
000 Al Jaghbub Oasis - 8 October 1942
"G4, calling G4, report position G4."
"G4 report in G4, …. G4 are you there….. G4….Damn it Moffitt Answer the bloody radio!"
Groaning in annoyance Capt Moffitt sat up from the blanket he'd been resting on near the cool waters of the bubbling spring water. The hot desert sun pressed down on them with a steady weight of dry air and melting temperatures. Looking around the sun-shade he located the radio set on the side of the land rover. Picking it up he clicked the microphone and spoke tiredly into it. "G4 here, what is going on command, we're supposed to be radio silent."
The radio was silent for a moment then crackled to life with static. "Acknowledged, there is a change of plans. RAF bombed a caravan earlier and we need you to go check it out. We think it might have been the group that's been causing all those problems. You need to go out and recover what wreckage you can."
Now he was really annoyed. "Standby HQ".
Sitting up more he looked around the camp, the group was doing the move by night rest by day routine again to help avoid detection and conserve energy. He counted a few dozen jeeps and several soldiers on watch duty, he was in charge of the radio which should have been quiet. After assessing the units at his disposal he made his decision. "Yeah, we can check it out but what's the big deal? Why this unit and why us?"
"You'll know when you get there, stand by for encrypted coordinates" replied HQ.
~{0}~
Sunrise in the desert can be beautiful, the deep reds of the rising sun merging into an even deeper blue of the horizon sky. Pearl sat contentedly atop a bombed out cargo truck contentedly watching the sunrise feeling a bit lighter and more relaxed than she had in weeks. Behind her the rest of the squad was gingerly picking through the wreckage searching for anything useful or that intelligence might find interesting, so far there wasn't much.
"You going to help us or just watch the sunrise?" grumbled James climbing up to join her. He was usually quite cheery but this morning had found him exhausted and hungry after a long overnight drive. "Could use some of that Gem strength to help finish up Love."
Pearl glanced at him and smiled, as subtle as she could she reached into her Gem...then withdrew a Cadbury candy bar. "Here Love, eat this and feel better."
James grabbed the offered candy without hesitation ripping off the packaging to take a bite. A look of pure bliss spread across his face at the sweet chocolate melting on his pallet.
"Better?"
"Yes, much better." He took another bite. "Thats a neat trick you can do but we still need the help, please join us."
"Sure James, breaks over… I just…. the sky is so beautiful and..it was good to be reminded of the things we fight for is all. I'll help now." With that she stole a quick chocolaty kiss then jumped down to resume helping the rest of the squad search. Having an idea what she was looking for she focused her attention on the truck that had no antenna sticking out of it but rather had a bunch of connection ports for cables to be plugged into. Presuming it worked as an interconnected system there would have to be one truck each for power, broadcast, control, and containment. This truck looked like the containment unit.
She waited till no one was looking in her direction then used her Gem strength to just rip the door off the back of the truck with a loud screech of metal. At this all eyes turned to her in search of the loud noise. "Nothing to worry about, just a bit of a stuck hinge making noise."
Frank just chuckled having seen her rip armored doors off of tanks before. "Sure sister, let's go with that. Back to work everyone! We need to be gone before Jerry's show up."
Satisfied that no one was suspicious she ducked down to look inside the trucks reinforced cargo area.
"AAARRRGGGHHHH !" She shrieked stumbling back, she tripped over her feet to land on her rump in the cool sand. Hearing her scream the rest of the squad came running, weapons drawn and ready for a fight. James skidded to her side coming to a stop in a defensive stance placing himself between her and the threat gun up and eyes searching for targets.
There dangling in a web of cables was the half burnt face of a young soldier, or what was left of a soldier accompanied by the heavy scent of burnt flesh. It must have dropped into view like a macabre marionette when the door was ripped away.
"Oh, oh lord, that is … " James turned away from the scene gasping for breath.
Having recovered herself Pearl stood up and walked back to the truck and its gruesome occupant. Stopping her breathing she pulled her combat knife and began to gingerly cut the wires holding the body suspended while trying not to look at it. Her task done she pushed it out the door where the body landed in the sand with a thump. With the truck clear she began to search its contents for what she was pretty sure was going to be a Kyanite hooked up to a wailing stone.
Meanwhile outside the van the squad had finished their own recovery and resumed their search of the wreckage. This time there was less surprise at the discovery of the deceased crews. Moffitt ordered a burial detail to be setup to give the young soldiers, though enemies, a proper grave worthy of a soldier in the field. When it came time to bury the burned body James had to look away to avoid another round of illness. Looking back at the truck he could see her light flickering around within, THAT took some guts to do what she did without getting sick, sister is a lot tougher than she looks being able to handle that and recover so quickly.
Finally, after digging in the wreckage for what felt like an hour she found what she was looking for. Lifting up a small metal box with wires dangling from it she pried open the lid half expecting its occupant to burst forth and form a hard-light body full of anger and rage. When nothing happened she peeked inside, a wave of sorrow washed over her at its contents for she had found the reason it was dormant. Instead of an intact Kyanite stone, there were just shards, most too small to even form a partial corruption, just tiny fragments and dust. Turning the box over she found why, there was a small jagged puncture that must have been from the bomb blast.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I cannot lay you to rest to drift with the solar winds. I'm sorry this was your fate. May your soul find peace in the afterlife." Wiping a tear from her eye she formed a bubble the box then warped it back home. Much as she wanted to leave her job was not yet done, following a thick cable she located the wailing stone that, as suspected, was being used to amplify the corrupted Gem. Another bubble, another warp.
Job completed she climbed out of the truck and made her way over to the jeeps where she plunked down in the navigators seat. "Pearl! Anything to report!" shouted Moffitt from where they were finishing up the graves. "RAF did good, bombs destroyed the objective, we won't be hearing from it anymore." she shouted back.
000 Tobruk hardened bunker - 10 October 1942
There was a low rumble soon accompanied by a gentle shaking of the basement like a small earthquake. A lite rain of dust and small stones shaken loose by the blast fell from the ceiling to puddle on the un-swept floor. Schafer huddled in a corner trying to read a manuscript of some kind, he had a poorly fitted helmet on and a pen light held in his teeth. Each time a bomb landed he would turn the page, stress was evident on his face but he wouldn't let it show.
Aldebert smiled at the scholars attempts to look brave for he knew that the danger down in the basement was actually rather minimal. They had several exists, a whole building above to absorb the damage, and the bombs being dropped were relatively small types. No, this was a harassment raid meant to remind the enemy they were not safe and to destroy anything soft or exposed.
What did worry him though was their shipment at the docks. Those were of unknown durability and were already difficult to obtain. The tubes had been stored in a former ammo-bunker near the docks but this was no guarantee of safety. But such was the risks of war.
Finally after a few more bomb quakes the world outside fell quiet, a few minutes later the all-clear siren was heard signaling the official end to the RAF raid. Dusting himself off Schafer stood up, stretched, then made his way towards the exit muttering about needing fresh air.
Reaching the door he was nearly knocked off his feet when it was flung open by Waldemar who in turn nearly trampled the hapless researcher.
"The RAF got lucky, we've lost the mind warping device" breathed Waldemar trying to catch is breath. Reaching for his messenger tube, he pulled out a rolled up field report then handed it to Aldebert.
Verdammt! breathed Aldebert as he read through the report. Another setback, another failure, though it wasn't his fault he would probably be blamed anyway.
"What did it say?" asked Schafer walking over to take a closer look at the report papers himself.
"Why were they moving during the day! They had strict orders to only move in low light!" demanded the SS officer flipping pages in the report. Apparently it was written by one of the survivors who had limped their remaining truck back to base. They had moved during daylight to try and make better time back to base and evade the advancing British lines; what fools, speed over safety on a high value asset.
With nothing to be done about the lost hypnosis device he returned to his desk, flopping into his chair. An act he immediately regretted when his back instantly felt sore from the impact; he had forgotten that the chairs cushions had long since gone bad in the dry desert air. Now frustrated and sore he glared at the stack of reports and maps spread across his desk trying to come up with a plan.
"You need a drink. No arguments" ordered Waldemar taking a seat, more carefully, on the opposite side of the desk. Removing a metal flask from his jacket he pushed it across to Aldebert. "Drink my friend, you need it to settle your nerves."
"I'll take a swig too if you don't mind" said Schafer reaching over to take his turn at the hard alcohol. "So what do we do now Heir Fisher? We still have the gun tubes but those need allot more research before we can do anything with them."
Aldebert said nothing, just continued to brood staring at maps on the desk.
"Boss?" asked Waldemar quietly. He was getting worried, his leader always had a plan.
"We need to pack up and head home. There is nothing else here and the window to move the heavy artifacts is closing. We will continue our research back in Europe." declared Aldebert. Taking another long gulp of alcohol he finished up the flask. "Waldemer, Schafer, please start making the arrangements, we leave as soon as the artifacts can be loaded."
His companions saluted smartly then left to begin the process of loading the ships.
Leaning back in his chair, Aldebert closed his eyes, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. "End game is approaching, we will need every weapon available to protect the father land". Looking up at his companions he gave his orders. "Prepare to depart, we ship it all home."
000 Trailblazing through the desert - 19 October 1942 late at night
The group was heading North towards their objective during a series of long night drives; a practice that had become common to their operations. Mixed in with the attack jeeps were ruggedized cargo-carrier trucks carrying the extra supplies needed for the return trips. These would wait in camouflaged positions outside the battle area during raids to bring the survivors back. Presently the squad was taking turns driving, navigating, or resting in the cargo bed during the long, often bumpy, drive through the arid desert landscape.
"I wonder where Capt Patryk is right now?" mused Pearl watching a passing thunderstorm off in the distance, she was riding in the back bench of the cargo truck with a sleeping James using her legs as a pillow. She had been doing her best to keep track of the people she'd met but it was often difficult. Information was need-to-know and simple things like where a unit was fighting was now often classified.
"Or Kaplan" while we're on the topic mused Frank on the other side of the rear cargo area, his bedding spread across some water tanks. Indeed the news out of Poland (what little there was) was often grim with talk of whole cities being wiped out and a fearful populace.
"I don't recognize those names, who are they?" asked Moffitt seated next to Tully the present driver on duty who ignored them all.
"Just people we passed during our travels, mostly just wishing this war would be over so we can try and find out." replied Pearl. The storm was starting to change direction, with luck that direction would be to give them some cover when they got to their destination.
Conversation petered out after that, everyone was increasingly exhausted and after hours of travel most had simply run out of topics to talk about. Around them the other vehicles of the raid, perhaps a dozen or so, cruised in formation, each leaving a trail of dust in their wake. It was good that they were traveling at night for as that other unfortunate convoy had found out they would have been easy to spot and attack by any observant armed aircraft. But it was still a lonely feeling despite the immediate company for should they be on their own it would be not unlike castaways floating on an ocean of empty sand.
Then the music started playing seemingly from out of nowhere accompanied by a young man singing along.
Tully was quick to action. "Cut that thing off! You're going to attract unwanted attention! The desert doesn't sing!." shouted the young soldier from the driver's seat. James was roused from his slumber, sitting up on the bench he said nothing while he got himself reoriented with the world.
Immediately the music cut out. "Sorry sir, things seemed so melancholy I figured a spot of music could liven things up a bit, boost moral a little." replied a young soldier. This was one of the LRDG soldiers who was acting as a navigator for the squad's vehicle and intermediary with the rest of the LRDG group. "I figure, the engines are already noisy and this desert is apparently empty right now, what harm would there be in a bit of music."
Frank picked up the small record player to examine it. "How did you get this thing out here? Especially intact with some records stashed in side?"
"It wasn't easy, I've had it kept in an empty padded ammo box, our commander let us keep it around for when things are dull (like they are now) so it hasn't been too difficult." replied the soldier. "If its okay with you, may I continue playing it?"
Moffitt mulled the request for a few minutes, picking up his binoculars he waited till they went over a particularly large dune then scanned the surrounding landscape. Finding nothing interesting or even remotely threatening he turned in his seat to better talk to those in the cargo area. "Sure, looks empty enough, I don't see any harm from it. What's your name son?"
"Pvt Christopher Lee Sir" he replied as he went about re-setting the small record player. "Here, let me play one of the new ones I got just before we set off." Once its spring was re-wound the little record player the sounds of trumpets, pianos, and other instruments.
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
All conversation halted at the comforting sound and cadence of Vera Lynn's powerful voice.
I'll never forget the people I met
Braving those angry skies
I remember well as the shadows fell
The light of hope in their eyes
And though I'm far away
I still can hear them say
"Thumbs up!"
For when the dawn comes up
Pvt Lee started to sing along with the music having memorized it over multiple replays. Soon the squad joined in when it got to the chorus, each of them thinking of home and after the war.
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
There'll be love and laughter
And peace ever after
Tomorrow, when the world is free
Pearl felt her eyes tearing up and a lump in her throat choked her. Thoughts the cities, lives, the people she'd tried so hard to help; she thought she was failing them but they still held hope.
The shepherd will tend his sheep
The valley will bloom again
And Jimmy will go to sleep
In his own little room again
Frank thought of his extended family back in England; wondering how is nephews and aunts were fairing back in the farms and coal fields south of London. Were they still okay?
I may not be near, but I have no fear
History will prove it too
When the tale is told
It will be as of old
For truth will always win through;
But be I far or near
That slogan still I'll hear
"Thumbs up!"
For when the dawn comes up
One of the other vehicles in the group drifted closer, its occupants having heard the singing and wanting to join in too. Soon other vehicles closed ranks, the voices of the soldiers singing wafting across the desert breeze as the convoy continued through the night.
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
When night shadows fall, I'll always recall
Out there across the sea
Twilight falling down on some little town
It's fresh in my memory
I hear mother pray
And to her baby say
"Don't cry!"
This is her lullaby
That did it, Pearl was openly crying now desperately wiping at her face to try and contain the tears. It hurt, the families lost during the train chase, the destroyed towns once full of life. James opted to stay quiet and just let her lean on him while she let the tears flow free.
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
The song faded out soon leaving the scratching of the records end. Soon another record was put on, this one a lively swing number with a trio of women singing an upbeat rendition of "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree". But for Pearl it would be awhile before she could smile again.
000 Tobruk Libya Docks - 21 October 1942
The thermometer mounted on the pole read 22C. It was strange, back home the weather would be considered 'comfortable' but here after months in the hot desert summer it now felt cold.
Tightening his wool coat around his shoulders he returned his attention to the trio of general-purpose cargo ships tied up on the loading pier. Hastily repaired crans loomed over the ships with long shiny metal tubes dangling in loading harnesses while men with long-lines steadied the loads. It was fascinating the watch, the intricate dance of machines, men, and hardware that all had to go perfectly or ship or man or cargo would be crushed.
"You're worried, right? You don't have to be so worried. Everything will be fine, they know the job." mumbled Waldemar seated on the observation decks metal bench. The large soldier was sipping from a metal flask that was emanating a faint scent of hard alcohol. He too was bundled up against the cool evening air and evidently was enjoying his off-duty time a little.
"You have gotten to know me well, my friend." Replied Aldebert sitting down on the bench next to the soldier "We must hurry, there is talk of the British making a push soon and I want these artifacts out of the line of fire". He huffed gesturing at the flask, "I thought alcohol was against regulations". A loud clang from the docks pulled his attention back to the loading of the ships. The source of the sound was evident as Schafer was pointing at a shipping box and the dock-worker laying on the ground holding his foot.
A few minutes later the first wisps of fog began to roll into the harbor brought on by the warm Mediterranean sea colliding with the cool desert air. "Looks like it's going to be a cold night" said Aldebert quietly to himself
~{0}~
Unbeknownst to the Germans, a small team of specialist soldiers was watching the dockyard from the rocky hills. Their chosen spot allowed a good view into the docs but concealed their position while avoiding the stereotypical spots a skilled guard might be watching.
"Nothing yet, no sign of the big fish" whispered James from her right side. She could hear his teeth chattering faintly, it wasn't so much the cool air but the cold ground they lay prone against. His face was presently pressed against the eyepiece of a high power spotting scope searching for their target. "Sure is nice of them to use such bright lights to help us" he continued whispering mostly to himself. Pearl huffed in reply. "I wonder what they're loading so late at night and why risk the lights making the bombing runs easier.?"
~{0}~
Friend. He had called Waldemar a friend and was even now ignoring a blatant breaking of protocol. Smiling he allowed himself to relax, when had it gotten to that point? They had been working together for a couple years now through battles and successes, even loss. At some point without him realizing it he no longer really thought of himself as the officer in charge or Waldemar (or even Schafer) for that matter as just subordinates. But it was good, friends were what helped get you through the hard times.
~{0}~
Moffitt shifted his own lower-power binoculars over to the cranes, he was on the other side of James in his own camouflage suite and with a large camera. "Looks like long metal tubes with what looked like long spindly legs, nothing I've ever scene, doesn't look like a cannon or rocket" Putting down the binoculars he brought out the camera and began to take photos for the spy-team's back at base to go over.
Pearl ignored the quiet conversation about the metal tubes, she knew what they were, of course, but would fill that in later when it was safe. Besides, while interesting and entertaining those particular items were not much better, probably worse actually, at secondary uses than what the humans already had. Let them waste their time and resources.
"Just focus on the people and look for one that looks like our target, those tubes are a distraction, nothing more." she chastised her companions.
James and Moffitt exchanged surprised looks at the frustration evident in her voice. "Sure, we'll focus on the mission. I'll take my leave and go check on Frank and Tully back at the trucks, make sure they aren't getting into trouble. With that Moffitt began to slowly crawl back down to the jeeps currently stashed under tarps, poised and ready for fast escape.
"You know what those things are Love? Gem business?" asked James quietly.
"Yes, nothing to worry about, just focus on finding Aldebert." she replied. It wasn't long before James called out movement on the walkways around the docs, someone important was there. Shifting her aim points she began to work on the ballistic calculations needed for what would be a one-chance shot.
~{0}~
"Your new rank suits you well" complimented a slightly inebriated Waldemar where he was leaning against the walkway railings. "Its about time the peacocks back home noticed you're special contributions and increase your ability to further our great cause. Lets see the hat!"
Smiling Aldebert reached into his coat to pull the indicated article from the inner pocket. He normally wore a simple knitted cap on nights like this, the rank-hat was useful when he needed the powers it granted but otherwise wasn't comfortable. Turning it around in his hands it still felt strange that it belonged to him after having sought it for so long. "Want to try it on friend?"
"Gladly!" replied Waldemar grinning like a kid, plucking the hat from Aldebert he put it on his bald head proudly. "It fits well!" he said happily as he began, drunkenly, to play act giving orders and puffing up his chest. "But alas, I'm not much of a leader, I find being a foot-soldier following the orders of someone I trust suites me better." Smiling he resumed his drunken play acting.
~{0}~
The soft sounds of fabric rubbing against sound was heard as James suddenly shifted in place. A moment passed. "Target sighted, on the walkways near the staircase. Moving too much for a shot." Pearl immediately shifted her aim point and re-doubled her efforts for a first shot it.
~{0}~
The pounding of boots on metal-stairs drew the duo's attention to a young trooper running up with a letter in his hands. Reaching the top he stopped in front of Waldemar and saluted smartly, that hat having confused the young man. "Sir, report from the ships captains, cargo is ready and they wish for you to confirm orders before they set sail"
~{0}~
"Target is the one on the right being saluted, take the shot!" James nearly shouted in excitement.
BANG! Pearl wasted no time pulling the trigger. The bullet traveled for 2 seconds. At the end of its flight the dock-yard lights gave illumination to the spray of mist from the targets head, then the figure dropped to the walkway like a sack of dirt.
"Target down, displace to rendezvous point"
~{0}~
"SNIPER! DOWN DOWN DOWN!" shouted the soldier as he dove to the floor then began to look around the dock-yard for the source of the shot. Down below no one had yet noticed the assassination, obviously going about their business in the busy dockyard preparing ships for sea.
Aldebert stood in place frozen in shock, the body of his friend lay still at his feet with a sizable portion of the head missing. Looking himself over there his uniform appeared clean and he could find no injury on himself. "SIR, GET TO COVER! Shooter in the dock-yard."
The frantic voice of the young soldier jump-starting his thinking. Wordlessly he forced his body out its shock to move himself behind a nearby crate. Staring at the body, the way it fell, where the blood had sprayed, that he had not yet heard the shot that fired the bullet. "Desert, they are out in the desert." He roughly grabbed the other soldier then shoved him towards the offices and the alarm station. "They are not here in base, they are out to the south-west near the hills."
Nodding compliance, the soldier soluted then hurried to attend his new orders.
Suddenly exhausted Aldebert rested himself against the crate, his gaze locked on Waldemars lifeless body. His face felt wet, reaching up he was surprised to find it wasn't blood, but a clear substance, then his eyes began to ache, his hands started to tremble from the shock. "I'll take care of you, my friend, I'll ensure you get laid to rest properly, and I'll punish your killers.
~{0}~
Down below Schafer looked up to his friends at the sound of the shouting and the now blaring attack alarm. He couldn't see who was hit, but he could see the dark red drops of freshly spilled blood falling from the walkway like a macabre rain shower forming a puddle as it fell. But there was no time to linger about it, if the base was under attack then he needed to make sure the experiments were safe, he would find out which friend he had lost later.
~{0}~
Out in the desert the squad was driving as fast as the desert sands would allow to clear the area. Behind them the faint wale of attack sirens from the base were carried on the winds but the odds of immediate pursuit by land were small. They had until dawn to clear the area and setup camouflage to hide form and wait out the now alerted reconnaissance aircraft that would surely be hunting for them. But for now, the squad enjoyed a brief peace to celebrate their small victory, it would not win the war, but it would help move it closer to completion.
Pearl did not partake in the revelry, instead she chose to recline her chair to allow a clear view of the heavens above. Her thoughts flickered back to the discussion with James that now seemed like a lifetime ago and wondered about what the afterlife held for their enemy. Moreover, what did it mean for her long broken oath; did it make any difference be it an anonymous soldier or someone she personally knew?
"Don't over think it Love, war is war, death is death, and it was a good kill."
Sighing, she turned her gaze to her companion in the back of the jeep. "You are right James, I'm over thinking it but give me time, it will pass."
James just nodded, instead returning his attention to the sextant and maps to keep them on course to the rendezvous point with the rest of the LRDP group.
000 Authors Notes
My fellow fanfiction writers and readers I have returned. This chapter took about 2 years to write for a number of reasons primarily family, work, and just being too tired to write during my usual 10pm to 12am period. After awhile it just got harder and harder to get unstuck.
With the release of Steven Universe Futures I'm seeing renewed interest in this story which is helping to re-spark my desire to write and finish the story. To accomplish this goal and finish it I'm going to try and make some changes in its scope and timeline to have it finished by about late 1943 or 1944 depending on which break-point I go with. That doesn't sound like much time for the story to cover but it can easily translate into another six or more chapters. We'll see.
Thank you. Sincerely and from the heart, Thank you. Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting. Thank you for the support and encouragement to continue.
Why do I make this story so hard to write? Because you are worth it. Also - Happy New Year 2020.
PS: Please forgive the typos and occasional errors in grammar; I have no editor save Google-Docs and MS-Word 2007 to help keep things from getting too terrible. Thanks.
000 History Notes
Tobruk
Changed hands several times during the course of the North Africa campaign; was finally liberated for good as a secondary effect of the Second Battle of El Alamein around mid November 1942 during the second battle of El Alamein. During its time under German occupation its deep water harbor was used to keep the German army supplied.
Operation Agreement
A failed attempt to retake Tobruk by sea attack somewhere around 13-14 September. Aldebert was concerned that things had been quiet which often means the enemy is planning something and are reducing their activity to just harassing raids while they prepare.
Siwa Oasis
I'm cheating a bit. At one point this was a forward operating base for the Long Range Desert Group (LRDG) which provided vehicle and raiding support for the S.A.S groups. It (along with Jalo oasis) changed hands several times alternating between Axis and British control but the timeline of who controlled it and when is not available to me. Eventually I decided that it made a convenient location for the squad to have a forward base for their operations in 1942.
Vera Lynn
Born in 1917 and living to 102 she was an English singer, song writer, and actress she was famous for her cadence and silky voice that conveyed a comforting melody or rousing song wherever she performed. Please read up on her extraordinary life as there is simply not enough space in this small fiction to convey the type of person she was and her accomplishments.
Song: (There'll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover
From Wikipedia: Composed in 1941 by Walter Kent to lyrics by Nat Burton. Made famous in Vera Lynn's 1942 version, it was one of Lynn's best-known recordings and among the most popular World War II tunes.
Song: Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree (with Anyone Else but Me)
From Wikipedia: A fun swing song made famous by Glenn Miller and by the Andrews Sisters during World War II. Its lyrics are the words of two young lovers who pledge their fidelity while one of them is away serving in the war.[1]