Chapter 6: Operation Henker Vol.2

In this chapter:

· A breakout

· Some concern

· Hugo

On the day the Basterds arrived, Elsie was pacing in her cell; a pastime she had taken to quite frequently. Another pastime she had taken up was smoking; something she had never been keen on before. But in her current position, it seemed as good a time as any to start.

She had received the first cigarette from the only other prisoner she had seen in the building; the man she knew only as Stiglitz. He had tossed it through the bars of her cell without the guard noticing as he was being led past one day. After picking it up off the ground, Elsie had realized that she had no way of lighting it. The solution to this problem presented itself the following day; Stiglitz was taken past once more, and this time tossed her a book of matches. She had stared at the item in wonder, then at him in a similar manner as a playful smile crossed his face. He was one of the only things keeping her sane. That, and the thought of the Basterds breaking her out.

Donny was absolutely reeling.

It had been almost a week since he had watched Elsie fool the patrol of German soldiers into believing that she was the innocent victim of an American rampage. When she hadn't returned to report to Lieutenant Raine, they had known something was awry. Donny had been first on the scene, finding absolutely no trace of his missing friend. It was Wilhelm who had picked up her gun from the side of the road. Wherever she was, Elsie was unarmed.

The Basterds had proceeded to track the unknown vehicle that they assumed had taken their comrade away. It wasn't too much of a long shot, since there weren't many cars passing through the area nowadays. It was the best they had to go on.

After a few days, they had finally stumbled across the German facility in the woods; the location alone raising suspicion as to what lay within. German soldiers patrolled the outer entrances and more were bound to be inside. They took out the surrounding guards as silently as their knives would allow them, and moved in.

Passing a cluster of trashcans, Donny spotted a familiar piece of fabric hanging out the side. It was Elsie's dress; the last article of clothing she had been wearing when she had disappeared. When he saw the condition it was in, Donny felt rage well up inside him. But there was something else, too: guilt. The whole idiotic escapade had, for the most part, been his idea. It was supposed to be a gag, that was all; something for them to laugh about over a drink once it was done. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

Nearby, he watched as Wilhelm slashed the throat of an unsuspecting guard, who gave a choke of surprise. The corporal was his usual mix of calm and collected, ready to complete the job at hand. Donny, however, did not feel anywhere close to calm. Taking out his sawed-off shotgun, he blasted the next guard off of their feet.

Taking Donny's disruptive behavior as a signal, Hirschberg ran across the length of the prison, firing his machine gun at anything that moved; so long as it was wearing a German uniform.

While Hirschberg had his fun, Donny looked for Elsie. The first couple of cells he came across were empty. The next cell was not. The young woman inside was pacing up and down the length of the small, barred-in space, smoking a cigarette. Her wavy, red hair hung loosely around her shoulders, adding to her already-disheveled appearance. But what concerned him the most were the blood stains across her back, soaked through the fabric of her filthy shirt.

As she turned to pace in the opposite direction, Elsie came to a halt, staring at the Basterd before her without emotion. She blew smoke from the corner of her mouth but didn't speak. She had dark circles around her eyes from a continued lack of sleep, but that wasn't the only thing that Donny noticed about her. Something had happened to Elsie; somewhere deep down, part of her mind had snapped.

This wasn't the same girl who had left him back in the woods.

They stood in silence for a moments before Utivich approached the cell carrying a set of keys. He tossed them to Donny, who caught them easily, but neither of the men were able to take their eyes off of the woman behind bars. Fumbling through the keys, Donny found one that looked like it would fit the cell door. It didn't. He tried again, this time with more success. He pulled the door open and Elsie stepped out. He would've given anything for her to have thanked him and hugged him at that moment; to just take her in his arms and make sure she was alright. But she simply nodded - first to him, then to Utivich.

"Do you have a gun I can use?" she asked. Donny passed her his shotgun and took the machine gun from around his back.

Aldo approached the group through the walkway across from them. He passed Elsie his water canteen, a thought that had never crossed Donny's mind since he was so concerned about the state she was in. While she drank, Aldo gave Elsie a brief once over glance to determine her condition. Catching sight of the blood across her back, he touched her on the shoulder to turn her around for a better look, but she flinched away. She stared down at the canteen in her hands.

"Just...Don't."

Aldo nodded with a heavy frown. He glanced at Donny who was carrying a similar expression. Passing back his canteen and stamping out her cigarette with her bare heel, Elsie finally looked up at the lieutenant. He glanced down at foot, disturbed by the behavior, then passed her the pair of boots she had left behind.

"You know a guy in 'ere named Stiglitz?" he asked her softly, as she pulled them on.

She nodded.

"I've been hearin' a lot about 'im and the things he's been up to. How would you feel about takin' him with us?"

Elsie nodded again. She had intended to, anyway.

Stiglitz was sitting in his cell, calmly smoking a cigarette, his hands still in their shackles. Of course, he had heard the commotion around the prison, but paid no attention to it, waiting for the source to present itself. Moments later it did. A group of armed men stepped out from their positions around the prison and came to a halt in front of his cell.

He noticed Elsie standing to the left, next to the largest of the men, and saw that she was now armed and at ease. He observed the men with the same emotionless expression he usually wore, and waited for them to offer an explanation. Another man stepped through the center of the gathering, over the body of a dead Nazi. He appeared to be the leader.

"Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz?" he asked.

Stiglitz gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Lieutenant Aldo Raine," he introduced, "And these're the Basterds. Ever heard o' us?"

Another nod.

"I just wanna say, we're a big fan o' yer work, and when it comes to killin' Nazis-"

As if on cue, one of the guards gave a groan as he lay dying on the ground. Without taking her eyes off of Hugo, Elsie shot the man dead. Aldo looked across at her, and then turned his attention back to the other prisoner, approaching his cell and resting casually against the bars.

"I think you show great talent," he continued, "and I pride myself with havin' an eye fer that kind o' talent. But yer status as a Nazi killer is still amateur. We've come to see if ya wanna go pro."

Aldo gave the prisoner a sly smile at almost the exact moment Elsie did. Glancing briefly at the only woman in the group, Stiglitz looked back at the lieutenant and gave his third and final nod.

That night they took shelter in an empty village, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the German prison before nightfall. Within the eerie little town, they found rooms that appeared to have been hastily abandoned by their previous occupants; food and clothes left behind. The building itself was a single story establishment that had likely served as an inn, but it offered them soft beds, running water and a roof over their heads; rare luxuries that they were grateful for.

Elsie hadn't spoken much more than 'yes' or 'no' since they had broken her out, and as Donny sat beside her now on the lawn in front of the inn, he waited impatiently for her to confide in him. But still she didn't speak.

"Else," he began, but he couldn't find the right words.

She was sitting almost close enough to be resting against him, and turned her head to offer a small, though reassuring smile.

"I knew you guys were coming," she told him, "but I need to ask, what the hell took you so long?"

He didn't really have a good answer for that.

"Believe me, if there'd have been some other way to get to ya faster, I woulda taken it in a second."

She smiled again, but lapsed into a sudden dark thought.

He finally worked up the nerve to ask as gently as possible what he really wanted to know: "What'd they do to ya?"

She was still for a moment, lost in thought, then replied: "They wanted me to give away your location. So I told them to go fuck themselves." They shared a chuckle at this, but the amusement died from Donny's face as she finished, "Then I got taken down to the basement and...I got a pretty decent lashing for that. So that went on for a few days. But now here I am. Safe and back with my boys."

Donny stared at her, once again not sure how to respond. He wondered if he had been the one to kill the man that had tortured her. Elsie kept the worst of her experience to herself, deciding now wasn't the time to tell him, (if ever there would be a time). And the perpetrator was still out there somewhere. She shivered at the thought, before getting to her feet and brushing herself down.

"Well, I'm going to go and find the nearest bath, because I don't know about you, but I feel like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards."

At that, she moved off towards her room, with Donny staring after her in concern.

Elsie had found herself in a room that was situated between Hugo's and Donny's. Though she was yet to have really spoken to Stiglitz since their escape, she did feel a sort of mutual understanding between them after their shared experiences, as well as the extent to which they would talk about those experiences. In Hugo's case, this was 'not at all'.

As she waited for the hot water to fill the bath, she sat down with her back against the wall and suddenly felt incredibly filthy. She had been allowed the briefest of showers at the prison, but wasn't able to wash herself as much as she would have liked. And the guards had never bothered to turn away. She felt like scrubbing herself raw.

And that was when the flashbacks started.

Without warning, she started crying. Hugging herself tightly, she fought the urge to vomit, and stood up to turn off the tap. Sliding into the bath, her body still shaking with the occasional sob, she hissed as the water touched the wounds across her back. She couldn't bring herself to look at them in the mirror yet to see the damage, but she could already tell it wasn't going to be good.

She changed her position from sitting to kneeling, and realized that there was no chance she was going to be able to force herself to scrub her back. But considering how many backs that whip had probably seen before hers, she knew it was either put up with the pain or risk potential infection. Her mind numb with pain and grief, she climbed out of the tub, put a towel around herself and went for help.

It would be fair to say that Hugo was not expecting to open the door to find a shivering, dripping Elsie standing before him, her eyes showing obvious signs of tears.

"I can't do it," she told him, unable to meet his gaze.

"Do what?" he asked uncomfortably, taking a drag from the cigarette clasped between his fingers.

She rolled her eyes at herself, fighting to hold back the tears of shame. "Wash my back."

Just when she thought he was going to turn her away, Hugo nodded and stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him.

While he waited outside the bathroom door for Elsie to make herself both decent and comfortable in the warm water, Hugo began to wonder if her back would look as bad as his. Unlike her, the first thing he had done was pour half a bottle of whiskey he had found, over the long, gaping wounds that crisscrossed his back.

"Okay," Elsie's voice came quietly, breaking him from his thoughts.

Though Hugo had already seen Elsie as bare as she currently was, he still acted with the decency of a gentleman, ignoring the fact she was entirely naked and keeping in mind the reason he was there. He knelt on one knee beside the bathtub, facing her back. It was covered in dozens of deep cuts; some looking fresh, others already well on their way to becoming scars. He spotted a washcloth on the edge of the tub, one that she had clearly already tried to use, judging by the streaks of dark blood on it. He picked it up.

"What's the damage?" Elsie asked.

"They'll heal," he told her, before he dipped the wash cloth in the bathwater.

Elsie braced herself for the coming pain. Hugo paused and then ran the wash cloth gently down her back. She bit down on the knuckle of her index finger, squeezing the side of the bath tightly with her other hand. It was excruciating as the hot water hit the soft, healing skin, but she made herself endure it, her body shaking in silent sobs. It was over in minutes.

Hugo hung the wash cloth, which was now completely covered in her blood, over the edge of the tub and stood up to take his leave.

"Thank-you," Elsie told him, finally looking up.

Hugo gazed at her for moment, then gave a nod, closing the bathroom door behind him and returning to his own room.

He sat on the edge of his bed and thought about the woman he had just bathed, but in no way were his thoughts of her perverted. He thought of the look in her eyes as she received the lashes, her look of appreciation every time he had offered her a nod of acknowledgement as he was led past her cell. But most of all, he thought of his inability to stop the officer from raping her. He would have given anything to have been allowed the opportunity to kill the Nazi in one of his notoriously creative ways. For a man infamous for killing thirteen Gestapo officers in a cold, calm and calculated manner, when the girl had shown up at his door looking so vulnerable, he had felt something far gentler stir inside him.

When Elsie finally managed to drag herself out of the bath, she felt a little better; even a little more like her old-self. She felt refreshed, but knew she would never truly be able to feel clean after her ordeal. Now that she had managed to release all of the pent up emotions from the past few days, she was feeling better, but unbelievably exhausted. She had just enough energy left to search the room for a decent set of new clothes, since there was no way she was going to continue to wear the clothes from her imprisonment.

She was surprised to put together a relatively decent outfit from the random articles of clothing she came across. But she could not be bothered putting it on just yet, settling instead for the plain pajamas she had found sitting on the bed. The inn had been well-prepared for patrons in its pre-war days, and even now had a few luxury items left lying around. Elsie put on the white sleepwear before collapsing on top of the soft bed and falling right to sleep. She didn't hear the person who came quietly into the room, or feel them place a blanket across her as she slept on into the night.