Certain Demolitions: Play a Fantasia

Summary: France, 1944. "The rat-faced Millice man who had arrested Apollo and the others was busily working on paperwork, when the door slammed open and there came a shout of "Achtung!" Then Klavier and Clay entered the room."

From Dusk to Dawn

Part II

One Year Earlier

The Shores of England

It was a grey day. There had been no rain, but there had been no sunshine, either.

The waves of the Atlantic Ocean roared onto the shore and then retreated. On a bench near the sea, Apollo Justice sat and stared at the water. His left arm was in a sling to let a fractured collarbone heal, and a still-healing bullet wound in his left bicep was hidden under his sleeve.

The sounds of someone's footsteps did not rouse him, and Apollo did not pull his attention from the water until he heard a familiar voice. "I was told I would find you here." At the sound, he looked up and saw a friend standing there.

"Clay!"

"I'm glad to see you, Apollo." Clay took a seat next to Apollo on the bench. For awhile, the two of them sat there in silence. Then Clay went on. "They told me that you're a hero now. Got a big promotion, gonna lead your own specialized unit." He turned and grinned at Apollo, but the grin died when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"Clay…Clay, can I tell you what happened? In France? While I was there? In the forest at Tagiturn?" The words all rushed out at once, before Apollo could stop them.

"Of course you can," Clay replied gently.

Apollo didn't notice. "They told me I shouldn't tell anyone what had happened. It wasn't safe. It wouldn't be safe. But I have to. I have to," His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's driving me insane."

So Clay listened without interrupting as Apollo told him the circumstances to that had led to his injuries, the unit he had been working with being decimated in German-occupied France, his promotion.

"I don't know who the man was who saved me is, Clay," Apollo finished, his voice low. "When I was debriefed, they told me not to tell anyone what had happened. They said it was bad for propaganda, because you can't portray Germans as Huns and mass-murderers when one of them behaves like a decent human being." His voice dropped again. "They said that if I talk about it and a spy overhears and takes the news back to the mainland, there's no telling what the Gestapo will do to that man, if they can find him."

"Well, the General is probably right about that," Clay said after taking a moment to digest the new information. "If word gets out and back to Germany about this, your rescuer will end up in a world of trouble for it."

"What am I supposed to do, Clay? Every time I go to battle now, I'll be wondering if I'm shooting at the man who saved me."

"Don't think that way," Clay warned him. "You can't extrapolate one good man to cover a whole nation. This is a war and we have to win it. Nowhere on earth will be safe if we don't. And don't forget that the men who destroyed the rest of your unit were Germans, too."

Now it was Apollo who was quiet. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know what to think anymore."

They sat there for a long time, just watching the waves roll onto the shore.

German-Occupied France

1944

"Alright Gavin. This is our third mission together. We like you. We've decided to keep you, and now we're gonna tell you a story," Casper Sly, a short American soldier with brown hair and brown eyes, announced. He was the shortest member of the group, even shorter than Apollo. The light from the small fire danced around the group as they sat in the twilight. The sun had set, but there was still some light left on the horizon.

Klavier paused, a tin cup of coffee halfway to his mouth. "Do you welcome all newcomers like this?"

"We like to wait," Ackbey Hicks, a tall Borginian-American with dark blue eyes framed by glasses and dark blond hair, spoke up, "Until the first couple of missions are out of the way. Then we know who will stay."

Sly nodded. "Yep. We've gone through a few members now. Thornton left after one mission. Said we were nuts. Which was true, but he knew what we did when he signed up. Who else?

"That creepy Russian guy who we lost when we got Gavin." Michael Northwood, a green-eyed, black-haired British man, who was already wrapped up in his bedroll with his pack under his head for a pillow, spoke up. "I don't know who got the worst of that bargain, to be honest."

"Yeah, Sokolov, he got…" Casper paused and turned to Jake Marshall. "What did he get?"

"No idea," Marshal replied as he took his cigarette out of his mouth and blew a smoke ring. "Court-martialed, I hope. We got rid of him and left him for the higher-ups to deal with. Before him was Skuil."

"I had been doing my best to forget him," Sly admitted. "But I think he was a traitor, wasn't he? That's what Stefan said."

"It is indeed." Marshall confirmed. "And he was the one who sold us out and got Stefan killed."

"I remember now," Sly said grimly. He turned back to Gavin, who was sitting by the fire and trying to drink his coffee. "There's been others. Anyway, we're going to tell you a story, and it's an important one. Pay attention. There'll be a quiz at the end. We are going to tell you the story of the man who started the Sidewinders. But you have to swear to never tell anyone. We're not supposed to know, but Lt. Terran told us."

Klavier raised an eyebrow. "You are not supposed to know, but Lt. Terran told you?"

"We needed to know," Marshall spoke up. Klavier turned to face him. "And we'll telling you because you need to know, too. Captain Justice has battle fatigue. But instead of being sent back to London or somewhere where he could get out of the war, he got sent back to the front lines."

Sly picked up the story. "Captain Justice used to be part of a group that infiltrated behind enemy lines. Before the Sidewinders, I mean. The unit that he was with was sent to extract, not a codebook, but some documents that the Allies could use to break German codes. That unit tangled with the SS while trying to get out of Germany, out of occupied France, and back to England. Every time they tangled with the SS, the Germans chewed up the unit and spit it back out. But all the tattered remnants of the group kept moving towards the coast."

Jake took the butt of his cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it in the fire. "The third time the unit tangled with the Germans, only Justice and one other man survived it. But the Germans knew that something had been stolen from them and they were desperate to get it back and so they had sent out more soldiers to follow the SS and help them."

Klavier was listening intently, but he said nothing.

"Justice and another man, Tobias Elan, were the last two standing after the third round of the SS," Marshall went on. "And they were doing their best to get back when they were attacked again. Only Justice survived. Being the last member of his unit left alive, he still kept pressing on back to the other side of the war when he got ambushed by one German soldier. He had expected to get shot, especially when he went to shoot the German and his pistol turned out to be empty. But this German soldier told Justice how to get to safety and let him go."

"The whole experience left the captain pretty rocked by it and he's had battle fatigue ever since," Hicks finished. "But instead of putting him behind a desk somewhere, they decided he was doing so good at his line of work that he needed to select his own unit and go back out into the field. That's how the Sidewinders got started. And that's why if the Captain's behavior ever seems a little erratic to you, it may be. He's got a bad enough case of Battle Fatigue."

"The Lieutenant keeps Captain Justice sane, though, and that's why you can always count on the fact that he speaks for the Captain when he's giving orders," Northwood added. "It's nice, actually. You don't have to worry about getting contradictory orders."

"And if we don't have a good feeling about the orders we get, we can tell the Lieutenant and he'll take it up with the Captain. It may not change anything, but we do get to have a say thanks to him," Sly added. "Anyway, you are sworn to secrecy now. Never tell anyone. We're not trying to get that German, whoever he was, into trouble."

"You need not worry. I will not repeat the story," Klavier promised quietly. He set his empty cup down.

"Are they still talking?" Hicks asked.

Sly turned around the looked over the slope. In the distance, Apollo and Clay were framed by the dying light, and appeared to be talking vigorously. "Yep. They are still out there talking. Wonder what we're up against now."

"Guess we'll find out." Marshall said, rolling out his bedroll and setting his hat on top of his pack.

"They're gonna run out of light at the rate they're going to translate that note. Northwood?"

"Hm?" The Brit replied.

"Did you get a chance to translate that message before the Captain took it?"

"No," The other man replied.

"So if that is the Captain's story, then what is the story from the rest of you?" Klavier asked, looking around at the other members of the group.

Sly looked at Marshall. "Age before beauty?"

"Why don't you go chase yourself?" Marshall suggested.

"Just tell us the story! It's too dark to read," Sly retorted. "We got nothing else to do, so bring Gavin up to speed."

"Fine. I lived out in Montana before the war. I was a town marshal out there. And I was trying to run a ranch."

"Trying?" Gavin asked.

"It wasn't going so good," Marshall admitted.

"He's not telling you the whole story," Sly interrupted. "This guy here sneaked himself into the first war. Lied about his age and got in."

"I lied about my age and joined the first World War because I decided that I wanted to buy a ranch out west and I had been doing odd jobs to save up the money for it and there was lots of recruitment going on. The easiest job to get was that of a soldier. And anyway, Sly, I was sixteen when I joined, so it weren't that young."

Sly turned to Gavin. "As you're a German, let me tell you that in America, the age of enlistment is eighteen."

"You done providin' commentary over there?"

"Of course. Carry on." Sly turned his attention back to Marshall.

"The war ended a year later and I came home. I'd saved up all my money and went back out west and went to work. I had wanted to pay cash for a ranch and I knew a man with a good one who wanted to sell out and go back East. Of course, I had to pay living expenses and rent during the whole time, so it was easier in the Army. I was hoping to get the fixed up ranch and that would put me ahead. I would buy some cattle and make it work. I bought that ranch and then the Depression hit," Marshall went on with his story. "So, no cattle. Not making enough off the land really to pay the taxes. I did some farming, but it was hard going. I just had the land. I had my job as marshal, too, but I was back to covering my living expenses with that."

A thought had occurred suddenly to Hicks. "Didn't you get the bonus? I thought all the soldiers in the Great War got a bonus."

"I got a certificate for a bonus for my work in the Army but it isn't due to be paid 'til 1945. And I watched those marchers real intently when they went to Washington to see if they could get anywhere, but they never did. They got the police turned on them and everything."

"I remember that," Sly said, nodding. "Disgusting."

"Wait, what is this? I have not heard this part of the story before." Northwood spoke up.

"The veterans of the Great War in the USA wanted to receive their bonus payouts during the Depression when they didn't have any work," Sly spoke up, "and they went to march on Washington D.C. and see if they could get the payouts. What happened was that they got the police turned on them."

Sly and Marshall were nodding. "That's what happened too," Marshall said. "No one got paid, so I was glad I had stayed at the ranch."

"If you were a veteran of the Great War, how did you end up serving in this one?" Klavier asked.

"I volunteered," Marshall said simply.

"He's got a real bad habit of doing that," Sly offered.

Marshall gave him a dirty look and then turned his attention back to Klavier. "My younger brother Neil volunteered himself for this war. Something like a week after the war was declared he got off the train in town one day and looked me up. Came all the way from the Texas coast were he'd been working to find me. Told me that he intended to join the Army and go overseas. I told him that that was dumb, and that he should wait and that if the Army wanted him they'd call him. But he couldn't be dissuaded and he was going to go. He got himself signed up and then decided to do undercover work. And then he was discovered by the Black Jackets and got shot as a spy. So that's why I came back. I volunteered again and didn't get turned down. When the opportunity to join the Sidewinders came up, I took it. And that's how I got here. I'm auxiliary radio operator, when Northwood isn't available."

There was a long moment of silence. Ackbey Hicks spoke up next. "I don't have a story. Marshall is the only one who has a story. My parents moved from Borginia to America after the end of the last war. I was born in America. We lived in upstate New York, about an hour's drive from the big city. Of course, during the Depression, my family didn't have a lot of extra money to spend on gas, so only saw the city twice while I was growing up. I used to be a police officer before the war began, and when it did, I joined the Army. I wasn't too fond of police work. It really depended on who you knew to get anywhere in the organization. And that's how I wound up here." He finished, fiddling with the silver clip that hung from his neck on a gold cord. Just above the clip was a red glass pendant. He wore the necklace with his uniform all the time.

Casper shuffled down inside his bedroll and moved closer to the fire. "I used to work as a private detective in Chicago before the war. I'm good at hiding, smuggling, and disguising things. That's what I do for us. "

"And he learned all of this in the last year of the Prohibition," Hicks added. Then for Klavier's benefit, he added, "That was an ill-advised effort to force everyone in America to give up liquor."

"Had to get that Canadian rum into the US somehow!" Casper announced. "So I helped get it in. Made a good living at it, too. Learned about boating, building secret compartments, all sorts of stuff. Anyway, Prohibition ended a year later like he said so then the rum-running business was a bust. I went back to regular detective work. When war broke out, I got drafted, and I met Hicks during basic training. We ended up getting selected by the Captain to serve in the Sidewinders and we've been here ever since."

There was another pause, and then Northwood noticed that they were looking at him. "Bugger all. No one cares."

"Sure we do. Get started," Marshall replied.

"Fine. I got drafted when the war started, for us Brits, not you Yankees. I'd been playing with radios since I was a child so I worked with them when I was drafted. I ended up here because Lt Terran noticed that I was good with radios and was trying to drink myself to death every time I went on leave. I was engaged to be married to a nurse who was killed in a bombing raid by the Luftwaffe during the Blitz, Kraut, so I'm not real comfortable with you being here. Though heaven knows, you ought to be an improvement over the Lieutenant's efforts to speak German."

"Don't be bitter about it," Hicks said, not unkindly. "Miss Shields was a hero."

"I know," Michael replied. "But I didn't want Vicky to be remembered as a dead hero. I wanted her to live."

They turned to look at Klavier. "Alright, Gavin. How'd you wind up here? Other than that we needed a translator?"

"That is the story. Lt Terran recruited me because I could speak German."

"And you must not be a real big fan of your country's government." Hicks suggested.

"To put it mildly, no."

"Don't put it mildly. If you didn't like Nazis, how'd you wind up in the war?"

"I was conscripted. It was either I went to war, or my brother went to Dachau."

There was a pause among the group. Most of them had been involved in enough behind the scenes work in the war to know what happened to people who objected to the Nazi government of Germany.

"Must have been a real great place to live, your country," Hicks said after a long moment.

"It was, once."

There was another pause, then Hicks asked, "Did others feel that way? About Hitler and the Nazis?"

Klavier gave a half-shrug. "If one did feel that way, they would not say it. If the Gestapo found out…They found out about Kristoph and he went to Castle Broken and I ended up here."

"That's two of you, anyway, who were against him. Were there others?" Northwood asked. He sounded genuinely curious.

"Yes," Klavier said, and smiled in spite of himself. "We had a joke in Munich: Oh Lord, I pray, send the Furher to England; please hear my most fervent 'Te Deum.' Send him soon, nicely stuffed, for I want my king-land. And they want him for their British Museum."

The Sidewinders burst out laughing. When they had regained their composure a few minutes later, Northwood said, "That was …surprisingly good. But I promised we don't want Hitler in the museum. Can't have him scaring the children now."

"Lt Terran said that we're going to sooner or later make it to a castle that we are going to storm and that your brother is being held there," Marshall said.

"That is also true."

"What about a castle?" Clay asked, coming up behind them.

"We're storming a castle, I hear." Sly replied.

"When we get there we will," Terran said, digging his bedroll out of his pack and pulling his visor off. The Sidewinders played fast and loose with the rules of Army dress. Clay always wore his blue coat, gloves, and visor. Marshall still wore his poncho, bandana, and hat. Hicks wore his necklace. Klavier had started wearing an earring again upon this discovery. "In the morning, Northwood, we'll need you to get on the radio and send a message back to London."

"Will do."

"And Major Samson will be in town when we get back to our side."

"Boo!" Sly called.

"A pox on that man," Northwood muttered.

"Which reminds us," Hicks said, turning back to Gavin. "We're not friends with the Major. Don't be friendly with him. Engage in the minimum amount of respect possible to not get a court martial. If you're friendlier then that, we'll drum you out of the Sidewinders."

"Don't…" Clay started to say 'don't listen to them,' but he paused and reconsidered. "He isn't…that bad."

"That is a damned lie, Gavin. Don't listen to it. Samson is worse than bad," Sly said. Hicks and Marshall were nodding.

"Please don't start anything with the Major, this war is hard enough as it is," Clay muttered, settling into his bedroll and throwing his coat over it for added warmth.

"We don't have to wear our regular uniforms, do we?" Northwood asked.

"No, no one has to wear their regular uniforms, as long as you don't show up to inspection in pajamas again," Clay replied. Where Northwood had even managed to find pajamas in the middle of a war was a question Clay had never gotten an answer to.

"But I can wear my dressing gown?"

Clay gave him a long look. "Could you please not make this any harder than it has to be?"

The men all looked at each other, then there were assorted murmurs and mutterings from the group.

"I'm not asking you all to be nice," Clay clarified, knowing there was no hope on that front anyway, "I'm just asking you all not to make things harder than they need to be. Alright?"

Marshall shrugged. The others, except Klavier, who had never met the man in question, nodded.

"Thank you," Clay finished.

"Does Samson know that we've got a German with us?" Hicks asked.

"No, but the General knows, and he's the one who really matters," Clay explained.

Sly rolled himself on to his side inside his bedroll so he had a better view of the others. "Long as we don't get shot at again because someone," He gave Clay a long look, "offends the surrendering Germans, I don't think Samson has anything to say about it."

"Listen," Clay sat up, his coat slipping off his bedroll as he did. He pointed at Sly. "I recruited a bona fide German to do the translating for us, so let it go!"

Sly turned to Klavier. "Are you qualified to speak German?"

"Sie ticken doch ganz nicht richtig," Klavier retorted.

"Well… it sounds German. I think. Where were you born?"

"München."

"What?"

"Munich."

"Isn't that in Switzerland?"

Klavier gave him a look of frustration. "I have it on good authority that Munich is not in Switzerland."

Northwood spoke up. "Sly, it is astonishing to me that you managed to make it to adulthood and through your military training without ever looking at a map of the Continent you'd be sent to. Also, do you know what language they speak in Switzerland?"

The conversation stopped abruptly as Apollo came back into the camp. "We are going to make a detour. We've been asked to stop and share the information we have from today's mission with a group of Resistance fighters in a town not too far from here."

"Anything we need to know about that town?"

"It's occupied," They all knew that that meant the town was under German control, "and we'll have the Milice to deal with."

"So more danger then," Clay noted.

"Undoubtedly," Apollo agreed. "But that's a problem enough for tomorrow. Let's get some sleep. Marshall, you're on first watch. Gavin, take second. Northwood, take third. I'll take fourth."

(-)

That night, Apollo dreamt.

There was nothing new about this. He has had many dreams before, ever since the end of his ordeal in the woods.

He dreams that he's back at the ceremony where he was presented with his medals, a Purple Heart and a Silver Star.

"This information that cost many lives will save many lives," The faceless man in front of him says and he knows that it's the General. But he can't see the man.

They don't pin the medals on him. Somehow, he ends up wearing the Purple Heart, and holding the Silver Star in his hands. The five pointed star is bright silver, but when they put it in his hands it dulls instantly to a dark grey.

Next to the faceless officials, he can see the German who saved him, facing away from him. From behind, all he can see is the man's uniform and pale blond hair under his helmet. 'This is for you,' he wants to say. But the words don't come. He can't say them. He tried to hold out the star, but as he did, it started to crumple and turned to dust.

I wouldn't have been here to earn this if it hadn't been for you. You should have this, he thinks, but he can't say the words.

The German is sitting on something. It might be a rock. He won't turn to face Apollo.

I didn't earn this! I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you! Apollo tries to say again. But there's nothing left now but dust in his hand, and it all blows away.

The faceless Army officials still stand there. The German won't look at him.

He doesn't know what to do, and it fills him with despair.

Apollo snapped awake. Overhead, the stars were out, and a half moon shed light on the world below. The fire had burned down and was now a pile of glowing coals. The other men were sleeping, by all appearances soundly. Apollo got out of his bedroll and slid his boots back on. He looked around, and then set off over the low rise. The plain below stretched out; cool and silent in the night.

Klavier was perched on a sturdy branch in the only tree nearby. He'd been patrolling during his time on guard duty and now, up in the tree, he had an even better view of the surrounding area. He paused in the middle of the song he was writing in his notebook when movement caught his attention, but he saw that it was just Apollo.

The Captain stood up and after a moment left the camp and headed off over the plain. Klavier watched him for a few minutes, then turned his attention back to his writing.

2.

"…I just don't think that it's an effective thing to do, that's all," Sly finished.

"I disagree," Northwood spoke up. "Grenades are very effective. That's why I always like to have one on me."

It was morning, and the men were on the march to the French village that was in need of their information. Their march was more of a loosely organized line making its way along a narrow footpath.

"And if you lose the pin to that grenade, we're all gonna die," Sly replied.

Clay, like Apollo, had been listening to the conversation without any interest in getting involved, but this statement made him curious. "And how would someone lose a grenade pin?" He asked.

Sly held up his hands. "Listen, I have seen it happen. We have seen it happen. In basic training. Right, Hicks?"

"Right," Hicks replied with a nod.

"And anyway, you gotta be able to throw it and get it where it needs to go, which means you've either got to be closer to the enemy then you want to be or that you've got to have good aim," Sly went on.

"Is your aim that bad when you throw a grenade?" Klavier asked. "You only have to get it close to your enemy. It is not that difficult."

"Maybe with your German-style grenades, but our American models are different. Anyway, I don't want to hear about aim from you. You're a sniper. Your opinion doesn't count," Sly replied.

"Usually I am asked for my opinion on aim, being as I am a sniper. This is the first time I have ever been excused from a discussion on aiming weapons due to my status as a sniper," Klavier noted.

"You sure gave us a moment during that first fight when we thought you were running from battle," Marshall noted.

"I wouldn't do that. I just needed a better vantage point to shoot from," Klavier replied.

"We know that now. You were looking for a place to do your sniping from." Hicks tripped over a tree root but managed to correct himself before he fell.

"We got a sniper and a translator, which makes for a good bargain," Sly added.

Ahead of them, Apollo and Clay came to a stop. The rest of the group followed suit. Apollo turned to face them all. "The town we have to stop in is just ahead. Once we drop off our information, we're going on past the town. We're going to be picked up by plane and Northwood will call that in for us when we're done here."

"We know where we're meeting the Resistance?"

"See that barn there?" Apollo pointed out a barn just outside of the woods. "We're supposed to wait there for the Resistance. They know we're coming. Clay, you wanna take a walk around, make sure no one's gonna notice us when we get there? The rest of us will head towards the barn, take our time, and meet you there."

"Sure," Clay replied. "I'll take Gavin with me." He motioned the other man forward, and they set off.

(-)

Clay's meandering path had taken him all around the apparently deserted farmhouse and barn. Klavier was around somewhere, but the two of them had split up again once they had reached what appeared to be a stone marker at the edge of the property and agreed to meet in the barn with the others.

Clay skipped the big doors at the front of the barn and was headed to a smaller, more person-sized door on the side of the barn when suddenly he was pulled away from it and slammed against the side of the barn. He lunged at his attacker, ready to shout for the others to run, but to his surprise, it was Klavier who had grabbed him. The German put one finger up, a sign that Clay understood to mean that he needed to be silent.

Klavier leaned forward and said next to Clay's ear, "Go carefully to the door of the barn and look through the window. Be sure not to be seen."

He let go of Clay and stepped back. Clay looked at him for a moment and then stepped cautiously to the door. There was a small pane of glass in the center of it and through it he could see that the rest of the Sidewinders had been caught by Millice. Clay stepped away and made his way back to Klavier. He pointed away, towards the deserted the farmhouse, and the two men hastened away to the far side of the farmhouse.

"How did you know?" Clay asked.

"I almost walked in on them. I looked through the window just as I was about to open the door," Klavier replied.

"How did we miss them?"

"We don't know how long they were here waiting. Have the codes London uses been compromised? Does the SS have them?" Klavier asked.

"I don't think so," Clay said, and frowned. At least I sure hope not.

There was the sound of a door slamming open, and the two of them peered around the corner of the house and watched as the rest of the Sidewinders were marched out to a truck that had just pulled up.

"This is not good." Clay said, and leaned back against the building. "What are we going to do?"

"Does anyone else in the Sidewinders speak French?" Klavier asked.

"No. You and I are it. Well, I guess Northwood knows a little bit of it from traveling across the channel before the war, but as far as I know, he doesn't know enough to hold a conversation," Clay told him. "And I guess," Because Stefan told me, "That his English accent makes his French hard to understand sometimes."

Klavier looked thoughtful. "In Paris, when I was in school there before the war, I was often informed that I spoke French with a German accent."

Clay sat up straight. "That's it! There's no one the Vichys fear more than the Germans. You can go demand the release of the Sidewinders!"

"Not in this uniform," Klavier replied mildly.

"Fair point," Clay had to acknowledge that no one would do anything other than arrest both of them if they showed up in the middle of the town dressed in American uniforms. "I think, using the information from last night's radio transmission, I can find some of the Resistance. They might be able to help us with this."

It was worth a try.

(-)

Clay set the hat on his head and frowned at his reflection in the mirror. "I feel like a traitor." He was dressed in the uniform of a member of the Millice. He was to act as Klavier's adjunct in the plan that he, Klavier, and the local resistance had come up with.

"You look like one too," a Frenchman named Theodore, who was lounging on the bed behind Clay, replied. The man was dressed in the uniform of the Schutzstaffel. He was one of two Resistance members who had been assigned to help rescue the Sidewinders as he was able to speak both French and German.

In the inner bedroom, Klavier set his own hat on his head and took in his appearance. In the black SS uniform, he looked just like a Storm Trooper, and he didn't like it. But if they wanted to get the Sidewinders back, he had to do it. He fiddled with his bangs that showed under the hat for a moment. He was clean-shaved again, but he'd let his hair grow back out into the short bangs he preferred, since the Sidewinders, as Marshall had once memorably put it, "Couldn't care less about appearance as long as you can do the job."

It was too late to worry about it now. Hopefully, the Millice wouldn't notice.

He opened the door and came out into the other room. Clay didn't look any more comfortable in his new uniform. He nodded when saw Klavier. "You look good enough to shoot."

"No thank you. That has already happened to me," Klavier replied. "Ready?"

"Ready." Clay nodded. "Let's get the rest of the Sidewinders back."

They drove into the center of the town, with a car that the Resistance had stolen from the Vichy government a few towns over, and got out in front of the police station where the Millice were stationed.

(-)

There was no way of knowing how long they had been there, but Apollo had begun to feel like it had been hours since the Sidewinders had been captured and taken here, and the future, he decided, was not something worth thinking about.

There was no one who spoke English here, enough to understand, anyway, and most of the conversation between the Sidewinders and the Millice had been handled by Northwood, who could just barely make himself understood in French.

The men were sitting on a bench in the main room of the station, under armed guard. The attempt to learn information from them had been abandoned long ago, when it because obvious that the only thing the Sidewinders would give was name, rank, and serial number, and that Northwood lacked the ability to translate more in-depth questions that were put to them.

The rat-faced man who had arrested them was busily working on paperwork, probably, Apollo decided, to make sure that his prisoners would be sent to a prison, or shot as spies, when the door slammed open and there came a shout of "Achtung!"

The rat-faced man jumped to his feet, and turned pale when he saw a man in a SS uniform coming towards him. Apollo gaped for a moment, then swallowed hard and regained his composure as Klavier Gavin, dressed as an SS officer, and Clay Terran, dressed as member of the Millice, walked into the room. Klavier stopped in front of the rat-faced man's desk and swung his right arm out into a salute. "Heil Hitler!"

The rat-faced man raised his arm in more of a 'stop' motion than a full salute as Klavier had done, and muttered "Heil Hitler."

And Apollo watched, silently breathless, to see what would happen next.

Klavier dropped his salute and stood in front of the rat-faced man's desk.

"I am here to take custody of these American prisoners," Klavier informed the man.

The rat-faced man gaped for a moment, looked at Apollo and the others, then looked back at Klavier and said, "Sir, I must protest. These men are prisoners of the Millice."

"They were prisoners of the Millice. They are now prisoners of the Shutzstaffel," Klavier replied. "Never fear. I will make sure that you receive full credit for apprehending these spies."

"Spies?" the rat-faced man said, glancing at the Sidewinders again.

"Spies," Klavier said, and nodded. "They are wearing American uniforms. What else could they be?"

The rat-faced man hesitated. "Still, sir, I cannot hand them over to you."

"You dare resist the orders of the SS?" Klavier asked, raising an eyebrow at the man. "Corporal."

Clay stepped forward and saluted. "Sir."

"Go send a telegram to General Burkhalter and ask him whether he intends for these prisoners to remain the custody of the Millice or whether he wants them handed over to the SS."

The rat-faced man turned paler, if it was possible. "Ge-General Burkhalter? But, but, he is in Germany! How could he know that there are American prisoners here? And with the Allied invasion…" He trailed off.

Klavier shifted his stance and stood at parade rest. "We are the SS. We have our ways." Then to Clay he added, "Go."

Clay saluted again and went back out the door.

The rat-face man asked, "Will you take a seat, Sir?"

"No thank you," Klavier replied, not adjusting his stance at all. "The General is in his office all day these days now that the Allies have invaded. I daresay that it will be only a very short time before we receive a response from him."

This did not look like it cheered the rat-faced man up at all. He was glum when he went back to his paperwork.

(-)

Clay exited the building and walked to the building next door. The sign over the door said "telegraph office" and it was, but the basement of it was where he was to meet his support group for the operation.

"How goes it?" Theodore asked when Clay entered the basement. Telegraph operations had been taken over by another member of the Resistance. The Vichy-supporting operator who the Resistance member had replaced was tied up and gagged in a corner of the basement room. The change of operators had taken place just about the time that Klavier and Clay had entered the office next door.

"The shock and awe tactic is working so far, but I don't know how long it's going to hold out. I need a fake telegram from General Burkhalter saying that that man in the office has to hand his American prisoners over to us," Clay reported.

"We'll get on it," One of the other men in the room said. He departed the room, heading upstairs.

Clay turned back to Theodore. "I guess you and your friend will have to come back with me because I doubt that that sneak next door will believe that I'm the one lone soldier that Gavin brought to escort to escort everyone out of the building."

Theodore and the other man nodded. "We're ready," Theodore promised.

Clay nodded and glanced at the clock. Then he tapped his foot, realized what he was doing, and tried not to look impatient.

"He's hurrying with that fake telegram as fast as he can," Theodore told Clay.

"I know. But I left Gavin out on a limb back there and I'm worried about him. I'm worried about everyone in there," Clay replied. "I'm anxious to get back."

(-)

The minutes ticking by felt interminable as the Sidewinders waited for Clay to return with whatever Klavier had dispatched him to get. None of them knew what it was, as the conversation had taken place entirely in French.

The only positive news was that the rat-faced man was still visibly nervous with a German standing over him.

This, Apollo, decided, would be something they would all be able to laugh about when it was all over. At least, he hoped that they would be able to laugh at it.

The door at the end of the room swung open and Clay strode in again, followed by two men who were in SS uniforms. Klavier turned to face them. Clay snapped off a salute and extended a piece of paper, folded in half. Klavier read it, nodded, and then turned and handed it to the rat-faced man. The man read it, and his face looked like he'd bitten into a lemon.

Klavier said something else in French, and the two other men who were dressed as SS stepped forward. They motioned for the Sidewinders to stand up, and started marching them towards Clay.

Klavier took the paper back from the rat-faced man, said something else in French, then gave the Nazi salute again. "Heil Hitler!"

The rat-faced man returned the salute as best as he could, and replied, "Heil Hitler."

Klavier turned on this heel and followed his soldiers and the Sidewinders out the door.

It wasn't until they had all been loaded into two vehicles waiting outside and were driving away that Apollo spoke up. "Nicely done."

"Don't thank us too soon," The Frenchman in the SS uniform who was driving, spoke.

"We're not quite safe yet," Klavier added.

It wasn't until they were outside of town, at the schoolhouse that served as a headquarters for the Resistance, that everyone relaxed.

Clay had been in the first car, and he wasted no time getting out of it and calling in French to Theodore, who was driving, "I hope no one minds that I'm getting out of this uniform."

"No one will," Theodore replied as he also exited the vehicle. Clay was already past him, on his way into the old building. It had once been a school, but since the war and the occupation, now stood vacant. The building was still tended by a groundskeeper, but it still had a slightly run-down look to it as there was no money for maintenance and repair of the building.

"I believe I will do the same," Klavier said as he turned to the building also.

"You two!" Apollo called, and both Klavier and Clay, still in their enemy uniforms, turned back to face him.

"Thank you, Apollo said, and meant it.

Clay grinned, snapped off a salute, and marched towards the schoolhouse, humming 'Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition' under his breath as he did. Klavier also saluted, but he seemed less happy than Clay had been. Then he too went to change.

3.

Being back behind their own lines brought another type of trouble to the Sidewinders.

Major Samson had come and it was time for them to be reviewed.

On the morning in question, the group had formed a loose half-circle and were waiting for their commanding officers to show up. They were outside the regular Army camp for inspection, and camp they had returned to was well behind their own lines.

Klavier looked around. "You do not all stand in line for inspection?"

"Not for Samson we don't," Sly informed him.

"We're going to get this over with as fast as possible," Hicks said, crossing his arms over his head. "And then we can go back to our real jobs."

Klavier had thought that he was the last to arrive, but Northwood straggled in a moment later, lighting a pipe. He was wearing a grey dressing gown over his uniform. "Am I late?"

"One minute early," Marshall replied.

The Brit exhaled a plume of smoke. "Bugger. I was trying to be late."

"Attention!" A man snapped, and they looked up to see a tall, brown-haired man with a frown his face stomping towards them. Klavier had come to attention by reflex. After he realized that none of the others had come to attention, he relaxed.

"Where are your officers?" Samson demanded.

"They are coming," Marshall replied calmly. "In fact, pardner, they're behind you."

Samson swung around to see that, as Marshall had said, Clay and Apollo had come up behind him. "Sir," Apollo said politely.

Samson glared at him, then looked at the other soldiers. He started with Northwood, who was the closest. "Why is this man in his dressing gown?"

"Sir, just because it's an uncivilized war doesn't mean I have to be uncivilized," Northwood replied. "It's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet." He and Samson exchanged long looks, Northwood puffing his pipe and looking like a chimney the whole time.

Samson pressed his lips together and turned his attention to Klavier. He studied the German carefully for a moment, then turned back to Apollo and Clay. "Do you see something wrong here?" He asked. He meant the silver earring in Klavier's ear.

Clay put a hand on his chin and considered the question. "Gavin, shouldn't you be wearing your sunglasses?"

Klavier pulled his sunglasses out of the same pocket where he kept his notebook and put them on.

"I think that's better," Clay said. He managed to keep a straight face as he said it to a man who would have cheerfully killed him for the scene he'd just had to watch.

Samson turned back to Klavier. "You're new to this group, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Klavier replied.

Samson's eyes narrowed when he heard Klavier speak. "Where are you from?"

"Munich."

"Germany!?" Samson swung back around to face Apollo and Clay. "You have a German with you?!"

"Yes sir," Clay said. "We needed someone who could speak German. No one speaks German quite like the Germans." He didn't say it to be funny, but Hicks suddenly looked like he would burst out laughing. Sly stomped on his foot just in time, and the two of them were back at a semblance of attention before the motion made Samson swing back around to glare at them.

Samson gave Klavier another long look, then turned his attention to Marshall. He looked at Marshall, then back Apollo. "I see you men don't maintain Army grooming standards," he said.

"Sir, my men stay very busy in a lot of dangerous work. I am more concerned about getting everyone back safely after a mission then whether or not we keep our hair cut to Army regulations. Also, Marshall is part Indian, and his long hair is significant," Apollo explained.

Marshall nodded. "It's all true," he said.

"He hasn't shaved either!"

"Sir, he can't help it," Apollo replied, in a tone that bordered dangerously on deadpan. "His five o'clock shows up by noon."

Samson looked at Sly, but only for a moment. He moved on to Hicks. "Still wearing that necklace?"

"Yes, sir," Hicks replied. The discussion of this necklace, which was significant to Hicks as a Borginian, had taken place almost every time Samson showed up.

The rest of the review was mercifully short, and all of the Sidewinders looked relieved when he was gone.

But as he left, he handed an envelope to Apollo. "The General sent this."

Apollo and Clay crowded together, studying the sheet of paper that had been in the envelope Samson had given him. The rest of the Sidewinders watched the man leave.

"Now we go back to praying that the Luftwaffe will drop a bomb on Samson's head before our next review," Sly stated as soon as he was sure that the man was out of hearing range.

"What Luftwaffe?" Klavier wanted to know.

Sly considered that. "Well, that would explain why our prayers have gone unanswered."

"We'll have to pray for something else to happen to Samson," Hicks decided. "Perhaps he could drive over a landmine."

"Whose landmine?" Northwood wanted to know.

"Anyone's landmine," Hicks replied firmly. "Don't get hung up on details."

"Or maybe a German sniper could shoot him," Sly added. Then a new thought occurred to him and he turned to Klavier. "Hey Gavin, how do you feel about friendly fire?"

"I try to avoid giving and receiving it," Klavier replied.

"Good answer," Apollo had drifted over in time to hear the end of the conversation. Then he announced, "We have another mission and we're moving out tomorrow."

(-)

The rest of the day was spent preparing supplies and getting ready for the next day's mission.

That night, Apollo dreamed again.

This time he dreamed that he was walking along a river.

He remembered this river. It was the river that the German soldier who had saved him told him to follow to leave the forest and find safety. That time, he had followed the river alone, but this time. He can see, walking in front of him, the German soldier.

As before, he can't see the man's face. But he knows that this is the soldier who saved him, and he hurried to follow the other man.

Apollo wants to know who he is, to say the things he should have said then, but didn't know to say until now. He followed the riverbank in great haste, stumbling over loose rocks and branches.

But the soldier in front of him doesn't stumble.

Apollo lunged forward and managed to grab the man's sleeve. But the German soldier was gone, and Apollo was left standing alone by the riverbank.

[A/N:] I was gonna try and hit 12,000 words again, but this was getting a little long and the next section, if it gets continued, and I make no promises, is just more drama and I thought we had enough drama for one chapter.

I was re-reading a favorite fanfiction set in the 1920s and the author said in her notes that she had surprised herself by doing research for her author's notes. So then you have me, sitting behind my Kindle, grinning like a fiend. TO be fair, the last time I read that fic was long before CD but I was still amused.

Okay, on to the actual notes.

This story, I forgot to mention last time, is named after a piece of music by Josh Leake. "Dusk to Dawn" is available on You Tube in America if you want to check it out. I can't speak for any other countries.

Tagiturn is a place I made up for the story. The name is pronounced with the "g" making a "j" sound, so, TAA-ji-turn. And we get to see more of Apollo's backstory here.

According to ...people I have heard from who are in the military, soldiers give each other nicknames. We're going with last name basis here because I couldn't be bothered about nicknames.

That poem that Klavier tells the Sidewinders is a legitimate anti-Hitler ditty that does originate in Munich and/or Bavaria. I got it out of Ernest Pope's book "Munich Playground." He notes that Bavarians were not fond of the Nazis, and he's not the first I've heard note that in their writing. Another American expat in Germany at the time noted the same thing, and the author of "Diary of a Man in Despair," whose name I have forgotten at the moment, was a Bavarian German who noted the anti-Nazi sentiment in Bavaria. At least if I remember the diary correctly.

"Sie ticken doch ganz nicht richtig" means "You might tick incorrectly," according to my sources, so you can probably guess what Klavier's trying to say about Sly here. Sly himself is a character from one of the Ace Attorney mangas. He didn't get a lot of characterization there, so I'm sort of doing what I want with him here. Who else? Hicks is from Ace Attorney Investigations, the first one. I think everyone else has been explained.

What language do they speak in Switzerland? German is only one; according to Wikipedia, there are four official languages in Switzerland: German, French, Italian, and Romansch.

The Millice…how do I describe them? Yes-men for the Nazi regime? The French version of the Gestapo? Hm…Anyway, the Millice were started by the Vichy French government, in conjunction, of course, with the Nazis, to strike back against the French Resistance. Their other low points included helping to round up Jews and deport them to concentration camps. I read a book about some Englishmen who worked with the French Resistance during the war, and the Millice were actually considerably dangerous because they were local, and knew who belonged in the town and who did not, and understood the local dialects (the book in question is "They Fought Alone" by Charles Glass). Since Clay only speaks French and English, he has to be Millice. Since Klavier is tri-lingual, he can be anything the Sidewinders need him to be, within reason.

They Fought Alone was also the book that let me in on a few other things that I incorporated into this chapter. The scene where Klavier asks if London had been compromised with their codes – he's asking because he doesn't know, but the Allies did have their codes compromised. In fact, the Nazis at one point got on the radio to London and taunted them about having broken their codes, and London blithely blew them off, because it was impossible for the Anglo-French resistance to have been infiltrated or have their codes broken. Except the Nazis weren't lying.

Bonus points to whoever can guess which WWII TV show General Burkhalter is from. I didn't feel like making up another character so I stole the first handy name I came across.

The German Luftwaffe, as far as I am aware (remember my TL;DR warning at the start of CD?) just seemed to be used less and less as the war came to a close. Whether this is because the German planes were shot down in such numbers that they couldn't be replaces, or if they were drawn in to protect the country of Germany as the war drew to a close, becoming more defensive than offensive, I'm not entirely clear.

Alright. I think that's everything. But as always, if there's something I forget, feel free to let me know and I'll try to answer your question if I can.

Please review!