I hope you all realize it'd be ridiculous for me to claim that I actually own Inglourious Basterds. Also, enjoy this chapter! Please do tell me what you think, it does inspire me so.
Between the hours of three and five there wasn't a single Basterd on look-out outside the tents. Mara sat perched on a log, tugging at the end of her wool cardigan. She'd sat there watching the fire dwindle to embers trying to keep her mind focused on what her mission was and what she needed to do in the process.
She poked at the embers with her gun and sighed, watching a bit of smoke smolder and embers die. They reminded her of the coals they used to heat the crematory rooms back in Bergen-Belsen and Mara had to close her eyes until she pictured stars in her eyelids to forget momentarily what had happened not two months ago.
Mara sniffed as she realized she'd begun to cry and immediately rubbed her face clean of all tears as she heard a rustling behind her. The sun had just begun to rise leaving the air around cast in a gentle orange light just bright enough to see Aldo stumble out from his tent with a blanket in his arms. He looked at her and nodded.
"Figured you'd be out 'ere." Aldo said, his voice gruff from his first words of the day. He draped the blanket around her and rubbed her shoulder a bit.
"I didn't sleep."
"Figured you didn'." Aldo said as he sat next to her. "We got 'bout thirty minutes before my men wake up and we leave for Périgueux."
"Okay..."
"In the meantime, I have a few questions for you, if'n you don't mind answerin' 'em." He said kindly, Mara nodded and he went on, "First things first, I need to know your full name, age, and previous occupation if you had one."
"My name is Mara Rothko, I am...twenty four, and I was an artist—or tried to be." Mara tried to shake off the fact that she'd almost forgotten how old she was, and she could tell that Aldo saw it too but chose to ignore it. She felt silly for saying she was an artist, she'd only had one exhibition and it was a complete flop. Mara considered herself a failure after that.
"All right then, next question..." Mara braced herself for the intruding question she knew he was about to ask. "How many Nazis have you personally killed?"
Mara looked up at him, confused. "Um...I'd say no less than two-hundred since I escaped."
Aldo's eyebrows shot up. "And when was that?"
"Five weeks ago."
"Weapons?"
"Shotgun mostly, a few knives, a bomb, an-and my hands once."
"Two-hun'red Nazis in five weeks," he mumbled, "...after escapin' from the work camps you killed more than two-hun'red Nazis in five weeks?"
"That is what I said." Aldo watched her unwavering gaze he held with her and smiled slightly.
He stuck out his hand and shook hers. Aldo completely believed her tale. He saw experience in her.
"When we found ya, how'd you get yourself into Nazi occupied France as a leader of that kraut squad?"
Mara sighed, "When I escaped it took me a couple weeks to gather my strength and a little bit of muscle mass was built with excessive eating, exercising, and padding in the right places. It was easy to weasel myself into the Third Reich. I just had to act like I belonged, like the men I spent everyday staring at with hatred while they starved and beat and antagonized me and everyone else. It was easy...After I was moved to captain status I was sent on location with a few new high ranked officers in Bordeaux. That was a week ago. Five days ago I'd planned on killing all three of them given the right opportunity, but you all showed up, did the job for me. Thank you for that."
Aldo nodded. "I'm impressed." Mara gave a small sarcastic smile and held the blanket tighter around her. "And I ain't impressed too often," he said. "Now that I know your full story, or at least the good bits, I've got one last question for you. Actually it's a bit more like an offer. If we still keep that deal 'bout takin' you to Germany d'you think you'd be able to spare an extra month or two, working with a US secret service guerrilla unit?"
Mara looked at him like he was crazy. But she thought about it, and figured she probably would have pitched in anyway, might as well be recognized for it. So she nodded.
"But—" she began, holding her hand up, "I do not owe you anything. I will help and I will be a part of the team but I will still be able to focus on my own agenda whilst accompanying you and the Basterds through this war."
Aldo eyed her and nodded, against his wishes but he had to make a peace. "All right then, I think I can accept that. And I'm gonna let you keep that agenda to yourself for now, but soon I'm gonna be askin' you 'bout it and if you think you can get away without answerin' by poutin' them pretty pink lips and flappin' them thick lashes, you gotta 'nother thing comin'."
Mara laughed, charmed by his words and feeling herself grow more comfortable around him.
"So. Do we have a deal Miss Rothko?" Aldo stuck out his hand.
"We have a deal, Lieutenant." She shook his hand and Aldo smiled brightly at the use of his title. He just keeps finding reasons to like her even more.
The men had begun to slowly trickle out of their tents and soon they were all on their way to Périgueux. A few of the men had tried to talk to Mara as they walked but she was content in her silence at the front of the group. Donny walked behind her as close as he could without stomping over her just because he didn't like how far she was walking ahead. She noticed this but didn't say anything about it. She liked that he was still slightly suspicious of her. She felt he should be, they all should be.
After several hours of walking Aldo had everyone stop at a nice, secluded lake for a break. Mara sat down against a tree next to one of the men, Utivich. He smiled at her and asked her how she was.
Mara paused before answering, trying to remember which one he was. She recalled him being the only one willing to give her a smile prior to this morning. "I am fine. And you?"
"I'm good." He replied, watching Mara lazily run her fingers through her hair, snagging on knots and cringing. "Wait." He began to dig around his bag and smiled as he pulled out a sterling bristle brush. "You might have more use of this than I ever could."
Mara took it slowly and smiled slightly. "Thank you." She said as she brushed her hair, "Why do you have a woman's hairbrush in your possession?"
"I found it a month ago and was going to bring it back for my mother but..." Utivich stopped and looked down. "But she died a few weeks ago from the flu." Mara set the brush on her lap and put her hand gently over his, he looked at her and chuckled. "I don't know why I kept it though. Perhaps I was meant to give it to you."
Mara chuckled, "Well, thank you. It means a lot."
He nodded and stood after a moment to leave her to her thoughts. She watched all the men doing various things, talking, eating, writing, smoking all around a small fire. Mara saw all the men except for one who they had previously had to slow down, if only slightly, for.
Mara silently walked over to Hugo who sat on a log smoking a cigar with his foot elevated upon another log. He looked up at her when he noticed her walk up and looked back onto the lake.
"What do you want?"
"Ich bin traurig, dass ich auf dich geschossen. Ich wollte nicht, um tatsächlich erschießen. Ich wusste nicht, dass mein Ziel war so gut. Bitte akzeptieren Sie meine Entschuldigung, Hugo. Obwohl ich kann verstehen, wenn du nicht kannst." (I am sorry I shot you. I did not mean to actually shoot you. I didn't think my aim was that good. Please accept my apology, Hugo. Though I can understand if you cannot.) Hugo sighed and looked at her. He popped the cigar in his mouth and held his hand out, nodding for her to shake.
Mara shook his hand firmly.
"How can you speak German so well?" He asked in English.
"My parents and I lived in Berlin with my grandmother for a while before the war started." Hugo nodded, looking out onto the lake. "I sincerely hope you know that I did not mean any offense either when I yelled at you."
"No offense taken, Miss Mara." Mara smiled, glad that Hugo wasn't upset with her and also intrigued by the way he said her name. It was odd, the way Germans usually said her name it was with such disdain and disgust, but with Hugo it seemed to roll off his tongue, like it was natural.
"I think we're about to head off. Do you need any help?" He shook his head, finishing his cigar.
Mara nodded and made her way back to the men. She stopped next to Donny, picking up her bag. He watched her adjust the straps and narrowed his eyes at her as she looked up at him.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Um...If you do not mind, I would like to walk with you the little ways we still have until we reach the vehicles, is that all right?" His eyes widened slightly and he nodded.
"Yeah sure, just...don't make any sudden movements."
Mara chuckled as she started walking next to him.