A/N : Ah, yes, the disclaimer thingy. I'll never get used to it. (clears her throat) They're not mine, and the more time passes, the more I'm glad they're not. They're driving me crazy.
December 1943 - Libya, south to Ras Lanouf, Allied camp
"You want him to impersonate WHO ?!"
The shout that came out of Dumbledore's tent was loud enough to be heard all across the camp, and several soldiers turned their heads towards the origin of the sound. Inside the tent, lieutenant Jonathan Parck stared at his superior with utter disbelief.
"Permission to speak freely, sir ?"
Dumbledore nodded with a fatherly smile.
"I apologize for being so crude, but... this plan sucks."
Now, that was being quite blunt, Rommel mused. But Dumbledore did not seem to take offense and merely tilted his head to the side, clearly inviting his subordinate to explain his position in a slightly more detailed way. Behind him, the Feldmarschal and Tom merely waited, while lieutenant Parck seemed to think how to best voice his mind.
Most of Dumbledore's staff having been killed, there was only one lieutenant left for a hundred men, and a few petty officers, which accounted for his explaining his plans to the man and actually listening to what the other had to say. Parck's approval would be useful, because he'd do a damn better job if he believed they could make it. Someone who feels like he is going on a suicide mission has usually slight difficulties to focus at the best of his abilities.
Actually, it was not really Dumbledore's plan ; it was rather Rommel's, with a few hints from Tom, but they all had agreed it would be easier if Dumbledore claimed it was his. After all, the men trusted him ; certainly more than Dumbledore himself trusted his two new "friends". From what Rommel had seen, the man did not like Riddle much, and had not made his mind yet about him. But the Feldmarschall was quite certain the elderly wizard knew they hadn't been telling him the truth - not all of it, at least. The man had a hell of an insight. Well, anyway, he would never have agreed to relinquish his command to either of the two newcomers. Which was, truth to be told, understandable.
For the last five minutes or so, that is to say after having been told the plan, Parck had remained gaping, unable to utter a sound. But now, he seemed to steady himself.
"It is plain crazy !" the lieutenant pursued. "You want us to steal a hundred german uniforms, without the theft being noticed by the germans. And then, you want him (he was pointing at the Feldmarschal) to impersonate Erwin Rommel, no less ! And take us through german lines pretending he is taking us on a mission !"
He turned toward Rommel, and shook his head.
"Excuse me, sir, but just how do you expect to pull that off ? You'll never impersonate the Desert Fox well enough to impress the guards ! Not to speak about the papers they will ask you to show them. And, with all due respect, you just don't have the Feldmarschal's stature. And that is only if we manage to steal the uniforms."
The blond german tried very hard not to laugh and to keep a serious face, but that was getting harder each passing second. He choked back a cough.
"My, my", Dumbledore smiled. "You have a way to make it sound dreadful, my boy."
Obviously, the elderly wizard called everyone "my boy". The only one who had skipped the appellation yet was Rommel himself, and he had a feeling his luck would not hold much longer.
"But I can assure you", the wizard captain prattled, "that we have considered all the aspects of the situation, and there are solutions to everything. See - Tom, dear boy, would you mind handing me that map ? - we are here. We can reach the cost between Ras Lanouf and Marsa el-Brega. In Ras Lanouf, there is an important dump, in which we shall find what we need. That is to say, a hundred german uniforms. So, we will move this way..."
Dumbledore's finger drew their way on the map.
"... stop there, not too far from Ras Lanouf, and then we'll send a commando in to steal the uniforms."
"I have already been to Ras Lanouf once - with a disguise, of course", Rommel interrupted, speaking for the first time. "I know where exactly is located the bump. From what I know, Rommel lacks men badly, so it will be a little less difficult to sneak in and outside."
It felt very strange to speak of himself in the third person.
"Allright, we might be able to steal the uniforms - and that's a big maybe. But what if one of the Kraut officers we'll meet on our way knows personnally Rommel, and sees it's not you ?" Parck asked defiantly.
Rommel bit his lips to keep his face straight, while Riddle sniggered and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. As far as the elderly wizard knew, they'd be using a spell to make the germans see him as Rommel. But the truth was, they would not need the spell. Only Riddle knew the whole truth - apart from the Feldmarschal himself, of course - and he seemed to find it amusing to no end.
"No one ever said there wouldn't be risks executing this plan", Dumbledore said soothingly. "I don't think you prefer to wait here, now, do you ?"
The lieutenant lowered his eyes, as aware as his commander was of the lack of water. They had still enough for a week, if they rationed it. But then what ? Turn themselves to the german, after all this ? Rommel was known for the chivalry he exhibited towards his foes, but that did not make defeat any less bitter. No, apart from surrendering, Dumbledore's crazy plan was their best hope.
"I understand, sir", he finally sighed. "And I'll make sure the men do as well. I just hope there would be another solution."
"So do I, my dear fellow. So do I", Dumbledore said wearily, showing for the first time some of the tension and exhaustion he felt.
"By the way, would you happen to have a radio ?" Rommel asked, after they had kept silent for a while.
"Yes", Parck immediately replied. "But it's short range only."
"That's fine. Bring it here, please."
The lieutenant looked at Dumbledore for confirmation, and when the elderly wizard nodded, he aquiesced and went out. Once he had left, Dumbledore cast a sidelong glance at Rommel.
"What do you want the radio for ?" he asked.
"To send a message", the german answered absent-mindedly.
"Yes, I figured that much", the older man replied patiently. "A message to whom ?"
"I have to tell a friend of mine I'll be late", the Feldmarschal explained.
He felt Dumbledore's suspicious glance linger on him, and raised his head to cross the man's scrutiny.
"Really", he muttered.
Then, after checking lieutenant Parck was still busy outside, he drew his wand and directed it toward himself.
"Juramentum", he said distinctly.
The two other wizard's eyes widened slightly, as it was an uncommon spell, and difficult to really master. Rommel held Dumbledore's gaze with steely eyes.
"I solemnly swear I am not going to betray you, and that I am really trying to get you safely back to England."
He said nothing about his personnal feeling on the matter, which anyway was irrelevant. Dumbledore hesitated if only for a second, then slowly nodded. If Rommel had been lying under Juramentum, some very unpleasant things might have happened to him. As he seemed perfectly at ease, he had to be telling the truth. At least on this matter.
"Fine", the older wizard finally said, though still a little reluctantly. "You may use the radio."
Rommel sheathed back his wand, and a few seconds later Parck entered the tent, unaware of what had happened during his absence.
"Here it is. Do you want me to operate it for you ?" Parck asked politely.
"No, I think I will manage, thank you", the Feldmarschal said, waving him out dismissively.
"Go speak to the men", Dumbledore interrupted. "Tell them we will move as soon as possible and I want them ready to leave. You can also tell them we're going near Ras Lanouf, but nothing else for the moment. We'll explain the rest later."
"Yes sir !"
The lieutenant saluted sharply before leaving the tent. Rommel had already knelt on the ground near the radio, and was starting to activate it, the headset on his ears so he could hear his people's response. Though Dumbledore would hear what he would be saying, he would not hear what Rommel heard. He didn't like it, that much was obvious in the way he looked grumpily at the blond man, but the spell he had used was an irrefutable proof he was on the Allies side. And, once again, Dumbledore sensed no deception - though Rommel's was a shadowy truth. Yet, sometimes, one just had to let things happen.
"Old fox to Sand-fortress one. Procedure 12", Rommel called.
The "old fox" part was his codename when he had to call his men. Knowing his nickname was "the Desert Fox", using such a codename could seem not very subtle, but a lot of his soldiers used the "fox" codename too. So, he wished good luck to the Allies to determine which, between "young fox", "white fox", or "fox company" was him. Not to mention some Allies also used the F word in their codenames. So, in the end, it was perfectly safe for him to use it.
He had spoken in english in the radio ; "procedure 12" meant, according to the manual (which Rommel had himself written with his staff) that he feared his transmission might be intercepted by the allies and, so as to confuse them, spoke in english to make them believe it was an Allied transmission. There was still the problem of the accent, but the radio cracked enough to cover most of it, and anyway, in an army where French people were fighting alongside British, Polish, American, of even Dutch people, an accent did not mean that much.
The true reason being, in that case, that Rommel could not really start to speak german in the radio, in front of one suspicious Albus Dumbledore.
There was some crackling, then an answer came, and Rommel recognized the voice of the operator.
"Sand-fortress one, listening. Over."
"Please relay a message to Head of Fortress."
Head of Fortress meant the higher-ranking officer present in HQ, which currently meant major Merhoff.
"He's already here, sir", came the operator's answer. "Do you wish to speak to him directly ?"
"Yes."
Soon, the Feldmarschal heard his subordinate's familiar voice.
"Sir, is everything all right ?"
"Yes, quite. Only my car broke down, and it will take two or three days to have it repaired."
"Do you want me to send you another car ? Captain Aldinger arrived this morning, and I'm sure he would be glad to go fetch you" Merhoff proposed with a concerned voice.
"That won't be necessary. I understand there has been little perturbation while I was not here. I will merely be a little behind schedule, but there is nothing to worry about."
"As you wish, sir", Merhoff reluctantly agreed. "Where are you ?"
"I'm south-west to Bir-Hakeim", Rommel said, and it was barely a lie. "I shall see you in a few days. Over and out", he concluded.
He put back the headset receiver on the radio, and met Dumbledore's curious glance. Riddle already knew what it was all about, of course, so he merely looked slighty bored.
"By the way, I'd like to get my gun back", Rommel said.
"Why ?" Dumbledore retorted with a frown.
"Because otherwise it looks like I am still a prisonner and that you do not trust me, which means your men will not trust me either. And because I don't want to have to get another one when I get back after your departure", he replied patiently.
The elderly wizard shrugged and pointed at the bed - which was the only piece of furniture in the tent anyway - where the gun was lying. Rommel picked his weapon up and sheathed the Lüger back at his side. To the british muggle soldiers, it looked like a browning thanks to the same spell he had cast on his uniform.
"If we travel overnight", the german added, "we shall arrive at Ras Lanouf around four in the morning, which will be the right time for the theft. At the end of the night, the sentries are not quite alert. Once the men will have switched uniforms, we will wait for the morning and then go through german lines. I will be Erwin Rommel, of course. You will be Adler Dumbleschmidt, and Riddle will be Tom Ritter. Your officer will be lieutenant Pancke. Do you or one of your men speak german ?"
"I'm afraid we don't", Dumbledore said ruefully. "Or at least, not well enough to deceive our german friends."
"All right. So I and Riddle will do the talking. You and your men will shut up and try to look as inconspicuous as possible."
Rommel's tone had unconsciously switched back to a commander's, with underlying authority and quiet determination that revealed a man used to be obeyed without questions. Dumbledore added that to the enigma the man was to him, and decided he would have to ponder over it later.
"We will set the details of our little raid while on our way", Rommel concluded.
"What about the car ?" Albus asked.
"We let it here. Riddle and I will come back and take it after your departure."
"You mean you won't be going back to england with us", the elderly wizard said, frowning. "Why ?"
"We have some business unfinished here", Riddle said, speaking for the first time in a while. "Are you worried for us, Professor ?" there was some underlying amusement in his voice.
"I certainly do care for your well-being", Dumbledore replied gravely.
Riddle's sneer showed plainly enough he did not believe his former teacher, but he did not push the matter.
"All right", Rommel cut in, "we do not have any time to lose, so I would suggest we move on. If your men are ready..."
Less than half an hour later, nothing indicated there had ever been a camp somewhere in the area, and the british soldiers, led by Dumbledore, Riddle and Rommel, had begun their long walk to freedom.