A/N : They're not mine, bla bla bla, they're all Rowling's, bla bla bla, I don't make any money, bla bla bla. There, happy ?
March 1944 - somewhere in the desert - Libya
When Tom awoke, the sky was still dark. But he soon realised it wasn't because of the time of day, but because of the threatening clouds that hovered above them. There was also a lot of wind, and during his sleep the teen had been half buried by the sand. It was excruciatingly itching, as he had sand everywhere on his body. His only consolation was that he wasn't the only victim, if he could trust the sight he had of the men scratching themselves all around the camp.
Rommel was already awaken, but merely standing on the ground, watching intently at the horizon. Tom snorted. It had not been raining a single day since he was in Africa, and of course there just had to be a storm the one day he was stranded in the desert. Life was so unfair.
He rejoined Rommel, and tried to see what fascinated him so much in that sand storm. He had to admit, the scenery was impressive, with whirling wind - or rather, whirling sand - and a dim light, but it was quickly boring to watch, in his point of view. Yet, knowing the Feldmarschal, he wouldn't divulge anything being asked, so the young wizard resigned himself.
"So, what's so fascinating in that storm ?" he queried eagerly.
"Nothing especially", Rommel replied thoughtfully. "Else than our way out."
Tom raised an eyebrow. To him, a storm involved a lot of things, among which big problems and a great deal of itching, but certainly not a solution to their predicament. Something made him forebode another crazy idea, and he suspiciously eyed the high-ranking German.
"What exactly do you have in mind ?" he asked with an annoyed frown.
"Always the impatient one, aren't you", the Feldmarschal commented. "This storm is going straight on us. Soon we won't be able to see a thing around."
"To me, sounds like a good reason to find another place to be. Far from here, preferably."
"On the contrary", Rommel retorted. "If we won't see a thing, that means the Allies will be blind too."
"What do you have in... oh, no. Certainly not." Tom blanched when he realized what exactly the German wizard was thinking about. "I won't let you try this insanity, no way. Besides, I don't think the others would let you do it either."
"It's not such a big storm", the German wizard said in a soothing voice.
"Looks big enough to me."
"Don't be mistaken, I don't rejoice going through that storm", the Feldmarschal groaned caustically. "But it's our best chance. We have barely enough food and water for two or three days."
"I'd almost rather be taken prisoner", the teen moaned. "At least, we'd have a good chance to stay alive."
"And the war would be lost for Germany", the older wizard retorted.
"Well, I'm British, I can't say I care much."
"We already talked about that", Rommel said sternly. "But if you want to try your chance with the Allies, I can't stop you. Only your cover would be blown, so you wouldn't be able to come back. Your choice."
Tom snorted, but shook his head. He knew he wouldn't leave. He couldn't leave, not like that, secretly, shamefully, without having accomplished anything. He wanted to have a part in Grindelwald's defeat, and he had sworn himself he wouldn't leave the side of Rommel until the dark wizard was beated. Grindelwald appeared to him as the first trial, the first thing to get rid of, on the path of greatness he was intent on following.
The older wizard saw the stubborn expression on Tom's face, and inwardly smiled.
Aldinger, who had been supervising the transfer of equipment in their cars and in the captured truck, approached his commander-in-chief, with a scrutinizing glance. When he saw him, Tom remarked he looked terrible. His uniform was torn, dusty and filthy, his hair sandy, and his face was the same color as his hair. There was also dried blood on his cloth, courtesy of an Allied soldier during their leak from Alam Halfa. The teen wondered if he himself looked the same. Rommel did, so he did probably as well.
"Good morning, sir. What are your orders ?" the captain queried, his perfect military manners seeming slightly out of place with his shabby-looking uniform.
"We will leave as soon as possible", Rommel answered quietly.
The lower-ranking officer's face betrayed his surprise and confusion, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Leave, sir ?" he hesitated, careful not to look like he was criticizing his commander-in-chief, but more like he wanted to confirm his orders. However, the German wizard was not fooled by the warily neutral expression the captain had taken up. "If I may, sir..." Aldinger now appeared like a good subordinate who had an idea but was too shy to express himself. The man was a damn fine actor.
"You may", the Feldmarschal replied, amused by Aldinger's game.
"Wouldn't it be more prudent to wait until the end of the storm ?" the captain now sounded like he wasn't sure whether it was or not a good idea, but eager to appear as if he had a good understanding of the situation. The tone of his voice could have been a young ensign's barely twenty years old. Rommel idly wondered if the man doubted his sanity, but leniently decided to put an end to his subordinate's dodgy situation.
"It would certainly be more prudent", he agreed pleasantly. "Hopefully, that will be the Allies' opinion as well."
Aldinger's right eyebrow rose so high that it almost reached his hairline.
"You want us to use the storm so as to cross the Allied lines ?" he asked in disbelief.
"Clever boy", Rommel smiled.
He didn't pat the captain on the head, but he didn't need to for everyone to picture the gesture. His tone was eloquent enough. Aldinger seemed to ponder the idea ; to his credit, he did not dismiss it at once as unrealizable, but seemed to actually consider the probabilities of a success.
"No one in their right mind would try that", Tom muttered.
"We are still alive", the captain pointed out, shrugging. "We may have a chance, after all. Besides, an order is an order." He raised his head to meet Rommel's gaze. "Do you make that an order, sir ?" he asked for confirmation.
"Do I have to ?" the wizard countered.
Aldinger pursed his lips.
"No, sir." He didn't say more, but these two words were self-sufficient. "Then I shall tell the others so they can get ready."
"Of course", Rommel nodded.
Once the captain was gone, the German wizard rubbed his hands with a crooked smile. Obviously, he had something in mind.
"Keep our favourite captain in sight, will you ?" he told Tom. "Warn me if he looks my way."
"What are you going to do ?" the teen asked while doing as ordered.
"Please. You did not think I would just charge at that storm without, say, preparing myself. Or rather, preparing our vehicles."
"So which spells are you going to use ?" the British wizard asked, now smiling as well.
"Oh, a nice Weight spell, a few steadying charms, maybe a resistance enchantment. Nothing really innovatory, but enough to keep us in one piece."
It took barely a few minutes to cast the concerned spells, charms and enchantments, and some time later everyone was ready to leave. The Germans had now two additional vehicle, but also ten prisonners to fit inside, so the distribution was slightly different from their previous trip. There were five prisonners and five German officers in each of the two trucks, and the remaining officers crowded in the two staff cars. Rommel was in the head car, along with Merhoff, who was driving, Tom, Saintclair, and Von Arnim, who was keeping a close eye on the prisonner. The Allied officer had been separated from his men because of his rank, as the prisoners would be less likely to try an escape if they had not an officer to supervise.
They all had laid hold of pieces of cloth and wrapped them on the lower part of their face, so as not to be suffocated by the sand. While they were preparing, the wind had gained speed, and gusts of wind were now clouting their faces. They were looking like Touaregs, in Tom's opinion. When they would get back to their lines - if they lived long enough to pull that out - the German soldiers wouldn't recognize their officers.
"Let's go", Rommel ordered. "Not too fast, I wouldn't want us to be separated from the others."
Seated on one of the backseats, Saintclair was stiffly, resentfully glaring at the Germans. He had been told of the plan, as Rommel could not take the risk to let them get back to their lines when they knew where he was, and therefore which way he was most likely to take. In other circumstances, he might have offered the prisoners to choose their own fate rather than put their lives in jeopardy, but in this case he had chosen not to. But the Allied lieutenant, in the belief that going through the storm was the same as comitting suicide, was infuriated, and let everyone know it. His sullen face matched Von Arnim's, which made Tom inwardly chuckle.
As they were progressing, the wing kept growing more and more violent. The amount of sand it carried made it abrasive. The Germans had goggles, part of their uniform, but the Allied prisonners and Tom, who was in civilian clothes, were almost blinded. That being so, that was rather good for them ; blind prisoners were not very likely to escape. Well, if any of them was foolish enough to try an escape in the throes of a sandstorm.
It was now impossible to talk, unless shouting, and even then the words were carried away by the wind, which made conversation difficult. As a result, everyone kept silent. It was, without a shade of doubt, the worst and most violent storm Tom had ever seen. Not such a big storm. Duh ! The teen cursed inwardly Rommel, and all his descent for seven generations, but even that didn't console him.
They kept going like that for several hours. Tom had lost notion of time, and as they could not see the sun, would have been unable to say whether it was day or night, even if he hadn't kept his eyes closed. He abstractedly wondered where they were. He had tried questioning Rommel some time ago, but had been unable to speak loud enough for the other wizard to grasp the meaning of his words, and he did not master his occlumency well enough to try it in such circumstances - not mentionning that if he was caught by Rommel, the consequences shall be most dire - so he had given up. He was bored.
Some more time passed. He was still bored.
What felt like an eternity later, he was bored enough to start counting sheeps. The storm seemed to be more or less declining, but at that stage it was hard to say. But, suddenly, the teen became aware of the decreasing of their speed. He tried to see what was going on, but he relinquished the idea and closed his eyes tight again when a gust of abrasive wind swept his face.
Fortunately, the storm had really been decreasing in strength, and after some time it stopped totally. All of a sudden, there was no wind at all, and a strange silence filled the desert. Tom opened his eyes, and had to refrain from laughing. They all looked like sandmen. On the frontseat, Rommel unknotted the piece of linen he had taken to protect his mouth, and coughed some sand away, before taking away his goggles.
"Well", he said in a hoarse voice, "seems like we're through. How's the car, major ?"
"I didn't think it would hold that long", Merhoff replied after freeing his mouth from the pieces of clothes protecting it. "I think the sand is obstructing the engine. It was not made to resist a storm."
"Oh, that's just great", Saintclair sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Rommel hushed him up with a stern glare.
"Can we keep going ?" he queried quietly.
"I believe so", the major nodded, "but I don't know for how long. Where are we, sir ?"
The Feldmarschal wiped the sand off of his map, and pointed at the location they supposedly were. Tom leant forward to have a look at it ; as he was on the middle of the backseat, it made the move easier.
"So, we succeeded", he stated in disbelief. "I didn't think we'd make it."
"Yes, I noticed you're a very negative person", the older wizard grinned. "We should go now, and see how far this car will take us."
Tom rolled over and looked behind them. He frowned, and looked a second time, but there was no hint of any other vehicle.
"Uh oh", the teen said.
Hearing that, Rommel turned round, and when he saw the absence of the trucks and other staff car, he closed his eyes in dismay. He was not really surprised, in such a storm, when they could see nothing, it would have been a miracle if they had not been separated. Yet, he couldn't say that filled him with joy, and he felt somewhat guilty not to have noticed it earlier. But he had been so relieved to see the end of the storm, and worried about the engines of the car... Ah, well, dwelling on it, or moping, wouldn't help.
"What do we do, sir ?" Merhoff asked. "Do we try to find them ?"
"Are you nuts ?" Von Arnim stepped in for the first time, with his usual subtility. "We had enough trouble getting here, going back is sheer madness !"
He exchanged a glare with the major, who couldn't say anything to a man who was his superior (which was not really a problem, his eyes being very eloquent) and Tom remembered that Aldinger was in the other car. No doubt Merhoff was worried about him, and Rommel as well, though he couldn't read anything on the other wizard's face.
"That's right", Saintclair approved even though no one had asked for his opinion, "we shouldn't going back. Even going in the first place was suicide !"
Both the major and the general stopped their eye wrestling to look daggers at the Allied officer. Well, it was time they agreed on something.
"General Von Arnim is right", Rommel stated quietly. "We can't go back. The car is in no shape, and we'd lack fuel. Besides, we would probably miss them. They can be anywhere, if they got lost. The only reasonable thing to do is to get back to our main Headquarters. There, we will be able to look for them if need be."
Neither Merhoff nor Von Arnim could say anything without appearing like they were discussing their orders, but they kept glaring at each other in a most scary way for the remainder of the road.