Chapter 16: Putting Out Fire (with Gasoline)
Part 2

· Hitler

· A bit of Nazi propaganda

· Friends lost

· More preparation

· A promise

· Conditional surrender

· Vengeance

· Exeunt Omnes

And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.
I've lived a life that's full -
I've travelled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

- My Way, Frank Sinatra

Cold, selfish eyes.

That's the first thing Elsie noticed about Adolf Hitler, as he looked at her during the introductions.

It was as though the entire world had been paused. In this moment, she was staring into the face of a man whose life ambition was to annihilate an entire race of people for no reason besides his own ignorant idealism.

And she had to sit behind him.

Oh, if only she had a gun.

Screw Aldo. He wasn't there. He didn't have to look into the back of this man's head. He hadn't been given the perfect chance to kill the person who deserved it like no one else did.

But she would have to wait.

Acting now would mean ruining their entire plan. She would just have to sit and bear it; like always.

The film had started and, as Elsie soon found, wasn't particularly engaging if you weren't a member of the Nazi-Germany populace at whom it was directed.

Elsie watched as the hero, Fredrick Zoller, played by, well, Fredrick Zoller, reassured his love interest, a blonde and busty young German girl, that he would one day return, (and, Elsie guessed, have many, many Aryan children who would grow up fascists like their dear Uncle Adolf).

As the movie progressed into action that mainly involved Fredrick taking out many American soldiers with his trusty sniper rifle, Elsie spotted Donny leaving his seat.

Debating whether or not she should leave yet, Elsie's mind was made up for her as the fuehrer rose from his seat and told Goebbels that he would return shortly.

So, while Hitler took a brief intermission, Elsie was stuck watching her date on the big screen.

Glancing at the young war-hero seated beside her, she noticed his expression; hand to his mouth as though deeply contemplating his actions whilst he was forced to relive them once again, cringing at each shot he took in the film and reconnecting it to the real shots he had fired during his ordeal.

"Are you alright?" Elsie was surprised to hear herself say.

He tore his eyes away from the scene on the screen and forced a small smile.

Feeling as though she were unable to control her actions, she extended a comforting hand and placed it on his. He seemed grateful for the gesture of compassion.

In that moment, she saw him for who he really was: just a kid. A kid who had the misfortune of being raised to hate and to kill.

Hitler returned moments later, reclaiming his seat and proceeding to watch the film with an earnest expression, laughing every time an American was shot.

Shortly after, Donny re-entered the cinema, half-walking, half-jogging back to his row before trying to get Omar's attention. Elsie followed Omar's progress as he attempted to get past the seated Nazi generals, but was feeling too anxious to laugh as he tripped and fell onto two of them.

The moment the pair of Basterds began making their way down the aisle, towards the exit, Donny glanced up at her.

It was time.

Utivich pulled his coat tightly around him.

"What's wrong? Are ya cold? Why don't you go and ask one of those kraut guards down there if they'll lend you one of their jackets?" Hirschberg grinned, though he was absolutely freezing, too.

Stifled chuckles came out of the darkness on either side of them on the rooftop; Kagan, Sackowitz and Zimmerman.

"Shut up, will you?" Utivich whispered back, "You're gonna blow our cover."

"Too late for that," said a voice behind them.

Before they could lift their weapons, their hands were tightly bound and their field of vision cut off as black bags were placed over their heads.

"What the fuck is this?!" Hirschberg yelled as he struggled against his binds.

"Das ist vat happens when American schwein try to interfere," one of the captors replied in a crude mix of German and English, delivering him a swift kick to the stomach.

Each of the Basterds were taken down from the rooftop and brought to the street below, in front of the cinema. Already there were Aldo, who had been given the same treatment as the others, and Colonel Landa, who seemed particularly pleased with himself.

"Finally, I see all of you together at last. Well, with the exception of two or three, but this is just as good," Landa grinned.

Whilst Aldo remained standing, held by two of Landa's guards, the other five Basterds were forced to their knees.

"What are your orders, sir?" one of the guards asked.

"Put that one," he pointed to Utivich, "in the back of the truck with Lieutenant Raine here. Dispose of the rest."

He gave these orders deliberately in English.

"You Jerry-bangin', Lindberg-lickin', motherfuckin' yellow-coward piece of fuckin' shit!" Aldo shouted at him.

Four stifled gunshots sounded.

Struggling with all his might, kicking out at the men who held him, Utivich was dragged towards the truck nearby. As he was forced to sit down on the cold, hard metal seats in the back, he felt a gun muzzle pressed against his temple.

"Stop struggling or you will end up like your friends," a voice ordered.

He became still, breathing shakily out of anger, rather than fear.

There was further commotion as someone else was forced into the truck.

"That you Utivich?"

"Lieutenant Raine?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Sir, do you know happened to the others? Elsie? Donny? Omar?"

"No, I do not."

Adjusting the pressure-triggered gun on his wrist, Donny watched as Elsie took Hugo's knife from the strap on her thigh. She sliced through the fabric of her dress, tearing off the remainder of the bottom material so that it now fell just short of her knees, then kicked off her heels, throwing away the silk shawl that she had been using to hide the bullet-wound scar on her arm.

"Alright, what's the plan?" she asked, sliding the knife back into its holder.

Both men were giving her odd looks.

"What? You try running around in heels and a dress."

Omar shrugged and began fishing through the nearby trashcan until he came across a champagne glass.

"Hey Else, can I talk to ya for a minute?" Donny asked, as he stared down at the gun on his wrist, flexing his arm to make sure that the device was properly secured.

"Sure."

He motioned that they should go somewhere a little more private; though, in a public bathroom, their options were quite limited.

Omar watched as they went into a cubicle, then busied himself with filling the glass with water from the tap.

"What's up?" Elsie asked as she leant back against the cubicle wall, hands behind her back.

Donny lapsed into quiet thought.

His ultra-serious expression was causing a smile to flicker across Elsie's lips, but she held it back.

"I shoulda told you this ages ago," he began.

"You're into men, aren't you?" she said with pseudo-disappointment, before smiling broadly and laughing through her nose.

He scowled at her.

"I ain't kiddin' around."

Elsie managed to regain her composure, straightening up her dress and clearing her throat. She looked up at him with a mock-serious expression.

When she realized that he actually was having trouble getting out what it was that he wanted to say, she furrowed her brow.

Finally, he looked her square in the eyes and said;

"Elsie, I love you. I always have. Since the day I first saw you, standing under that apple tree all cut-up and dirty. I loved you when you were standing by my side, shooting down krauts. I know I love you more than Stiglitz ever could have. Don't look at me like that, 'cause it's true. And I want you to know that, when all this is over, I'll still love you; even if I'm dead."

Elsie stood speechless, cheeks flushed pink, tears glittering in her eyes. She looked away for a moment to compose herself. It was all too much tonight, with the good byes and confessions. She took a deep breath.

"Well, it's about time," she finally replied, throwing her arms around his neck, having to stand on her tip-toes in order to do so.

"Whoa, careful of the gun," he said, moving his arm out of the way to make sure that she didn't accidentally set off the device.

He carefully placed his hands in the small of her back and pulled her closer.

She buried her face in his broad chest.

"I love you too, you big idiot."

He gave her a crooked smile.

It felt right this time. No little voice in the back of her head told her otherwise. This was how it was meant to go – she saw that now. She raised her head and looked up at him; her green eyes big and innocent (though he knew better).

He leaned forward and kissed her. He wasn't sure if she'd be ready for it, Stiglitz's death still fresh in both their minds, but he wasn't about to die without fulfilling the one wish he'd had since they'd first found her in the orchard all those months ago. She seemed in much the same mind, her arms tightening around his neck. As they broke the kiss, she paused and rested her forehead against his, eyes closed, letting the moment last as long as she could. Donny hugged her tightly one last time, and felt his chest tighten at the thought of this being their last moment together. He planted a kiss on top of her head and guided her back out.

"Alright, what's the plan?" Omar asked when the pair finally emerged from the cubicle.

"Okay," Donny began, getting straight back into action and throwing off his black suit jacket, "So we punch out those goons, take their machine guns and burst in there blasting!"

"That's the plan?" Elsie asked.

"That's about it," he nodded.

She caught something flicker in his eyes, but it was too brief for her to interpret what it meant.

"I don't know what's keeping the lieutenant. I didn't see him in the cinema. Else, wanna go check it out?" he asked without looking at her.

Her gut instinct was telling her to refuse, but she ignored it, a decision she would later regret.

"Yeah, alright. But don't go killing anyone without me!"

As she disappeared out the door, Omar turned back to Donny. They had both discovered earlier that Aldo had already been captured, and therefore knew that they would be carrying out the rest of the mission alone.

"Why'd you do that?" Omar asked.

"There oughta still be a guard or two in the lobby. She doesn't have to be here when all this goes down."

Omar nodded. He understood.

The lobby was completely deserted; it was almost eerie.

Elsie noticed that bars had been placed in the handles of the doors to the cinema and presumed that it had been the work of Aldo. But if he was still there, why hadn't he gone up to meet them?

She took a minute to observe the area, and then remembered the room Aldo had mentioned the Colonel taking von Hammersmark into. Turning towards it, she noticed the door was slightly ajar.

She pushed it the rest of the way open and saw von Hammersmark lying dead on the ground. Leaning forward a little to try and gather what had happened, she noticed bruises around the actress's neck.

So someone had finally had enough of the woman, it seemed.

Something squeaked from behind her, like shoes moving across a marble surface. She turned around and saw two guards standing in the doorway, guns in hand, but not looking as though they were going to shoot her.

"Is this the one that he was talking about, do you think?" one said to the other.

"I think so. Let's take her and find out," the other replied.

"Take me where?" Elsie asked with budding anger.

The guards seemed surprised that she could understand them.

"Cécille Amour?"

She didn't reply, but her defiant look gave her away. The men bustled in and grabbed her; one tying her hands behind her back whilst the other put a black bag over her head.

Talk about déjà vu.

"Do you control the nicknames that your enemies bestow upon you? 'Aldo the Apache' and 'The Little Man'?"

The voice was muffled because of the bag, but Elsie recognized it immediately.

"And, oh, look who is here, just in time."

The bag was pulled off of her head, revealing the empty restaurant around them; one that looked terribly familiar. Sitting at a small table in front of her, were Colonel Landa, Aldo and Utivich; the latter two both with their hands still bound.

"Won't you please join us?" Landa invited, as one of the guards drew up a chair for her.

Elsie slowly approached the table and took a seat.

In the center of the table sat a black telephone and, to its right, was a bottle of wine and three wine glasses.

She frowned and glanced from Landa to the two Basterds beside her. They seemed just as surprised to see her, as she was to see them.

"I had a couple of my men stay back for the very reason that you might decide to go looking for your lieutenant here. I told them to keep an eye out for a young blonde woman in a dark blue dress. Not very specific, but it seems it did well enough."

"I suppose the 'blonde hair' thing doesn't really narrow it down much, does it? What with the whole 'perfect race' thing and all," Elsie replied.

Aldo smirked at her and looked back at the Colonel.

"Still fond of hostility, I see."

"Still fond of black-bagging people and removing them against their will, I see."

Now Utivich was smiling too.

Landa sighed, as though all he wanted was a friendly conversation but Elsie was ruining his attempts at one. He turned his attention to Aldo.

"Where're the rest o' my men? Where's Bridget von Hammersmark?" Aldo asked.

"Well, let's just say that she got what she deserved," Landa replied.

Elsie thought back to only moments earlier, when she had stumbled upon von Hammersmark's body. She pictured Landa leaping onto the actress and strangling her to death. He was such a small man, she wouldn't have thought he possessed the necessary strength to do such a thing.

"And when you purchase friends like Bridget Von Hammersmark," he went on, "you get what you pay for."

Elsie had to agree with that, but all the same, the woman hadn't really deserved such a slow and violent end. Maybe more of a quick shot to the head.

"Now, as far as your paesanos, Sergeant Donowitz and Private Omar-"

"How you know our names?" Aldo interrupted.

Colonel Landa looked offended by the question.

"Lieutenant Aldo, if you don't think that I wouldn't interrogate every single one of your swastika-marked survivors, we simply aren't operating on the level of mutual respect I assumed."

"No, I guess not," Aldo said with an amused expression.

"And as far as young Elsie here goes, we met quite a while ago; before she became the sole female member of your little group."

Elsie glared at him, recalling the event in detail; the cold-blooded execution of the Jewish family hiding in her wine-cellar, the murder of her grandparents and the destruction of her house.

"Now, back to the whereabouts of your two Italian saboteurs. As of this moment, both Omar and Donowitz should be sitting in the very seats we left them in. Double-zero 23 and double-zero 24, if my memory serves. Explosives still around their ankles, still ready to explode."

Aldo noticed Elsie close her eyes and turn her head away. She had almost forgotten about the explosives.

"And your mission, some would call it terrorist plot," Landa continued, "as of this moment, is still a go."

"That's a pretty exciting story," Aldo said, still looking amused, "What's next? Eliza on the Ice?"

Elsie snorted.

"However," Landa told them, ignoring their childish behavior, "All I have to do is pick up this phone here and inform the cinema and your plan is kaput."

"If they're still here and if they're still alive, and that's one big 'if', there ain't no way you're going to take them boys without setting off them bombs," Aldo informed him.

The Colonel looked at Elsie.

"They're still alive", she said quietly, then added, "But not for long."

"This is your plan," Landa said, "Therefore, I cannot be blamed for any casualties that may occur from your side."

"Just the millions of others that weren't included in our plan, right?" Elsie spat.

"Back to what I was saying, if I don't pick up this phone right here and make a call, you would get Hitler, you would get Goebbels, you would get Göring and you would get Bormann. And you need all four to end the war. And if you get all four, you end the war...tonight."

Landa grabbed two of the glasses on the table and proceeded to fill them with wine from the bottle, then repeated the action with the third glass.

"So, let's discuss the prospect of ending the war tonight", he said whilst doing this, "So the way I see it, since Hitler's death, or possible rescue, rests solely on my reaction, if I do nothing it's as if I'm causing his death even more than yourselves. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess so," Aldo agreed, with mild-interest in what Landa was getting at with all this.

"How about you, Utivich?" Landa asked, putting a glass of wine down in front of the bemused Basterd.

"I guess so, too."

"And Miss. Marigold?"

Elsie cringed at the sound of her real surname.

"Sure."

Landa placed the second glass of wine in front of Aldo and then was about to put the third glass in front of Elsie, but hesitated mid-action.

"As I recall, you aren't a big fan of wine. What was it you said, 'I don't really drink the stuff'?"

"You know what," Elsie replied, "Right about now I could drink just about anything."

Landa nodded and placed the glass in front of her. But seeing as all of their hands were bound, neither of them could touch their drinks anyway.

"I have no intention of killing Hitler and killing Goebbels and killing Göring and killing Bormann, not to mention winning the war single-handedly for the Allies, only later to find myself standing in front of a Jewish tribunal."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't want that," Elsie quipped.

Landa continued to ignore her comments.

"If you want to win the war tonight, we have to make a deal."

The three Basterds looked at one another, before turning their attention back to Landa.

"What kind of deal?" Aldo asked. It really was their only option; to humour the death-dealer before them.

"The kind that you wouldn't have the authority to make," Landa told him with a touch of arrogance, "However, I'm sure this mission of yours has a commanding officer. A general. I'm betting for... OSS would be my guess."

Neither Aldo, Utivich nor Elsie replied, giving him his answer.

"Oooh, that a bingo!" he exclaimed.

Elsie raised her eyebrows and bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing. Noticing her expression, Landa looked to the other two.

"Is that how you say it? 'That's a bingo'?"

"You just say 'bingo'," Aldo told him.

"Bingo! How fun," Landa grinned like a kid, then remembered himself and cleared his throat, "But I digress. Where were we? Yes. Make a deal."

So while Landa connected with the OSS via a two-way radio, discussing what he called 'the terms of his conditional surrender', the three Basterds were cut loose.

Aldo remained in his seat, watching as Landa paced back and forth whilst he enthusiastically negotiated with the American General. Elsie and Utivich stood a little way behind him, leaning against the restaurant wall, sipping their wine. Elsie had only just realized that she wasn't wearing any shoes. And that she was freezing without her shawl and the lower portion of her dress. She hugged herself and rubbed her hands up and down her arms to try and warm up.

A jacket suddenly found its way to her shoulders.

She turned and smiled at Utivich.

"Thanks."

"So, how did you end up here?" he asked, "I thought you were in the actual cinema."

"I was", she told him, "Donny asked me to go find Lt. Raine."

It suddenly struck her that he had done this on purpose.

"Fuck," she muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind," she told him. "What happened to the others that were supposed to be with you?"

He hesitated before answering, staring down at his glass as his swirled its contents around.

"He had them all shot."

Elsie put her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. She was having a lot of trouble thinking clearly.

Glancing over at Landa, she managed to catch snippets of what he was saying; something about 'Nantucket Island' and 'receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor'.

She was struck with a sudden dizziness, squeezing her eyes shut a couple of times and putting her hand to her face.

"Are you okay?" Utivich asked, but she didn't reply, quickly moving towards the nearest seat; one next to Aldo.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she told him. For a second, she thought she was going to be sick, but the feeling slowly passed.

Aldo was frowning at her with concern.

She leaned back in the chair, "Just tell me when all this is over."

The drive to the border between the German and American lines was a bumpy one.

As the three remaining Basterds sat handcuffed in the back of the truck, this time without the bags over their heads, Elsie sat wide-eyed, staring at the floor.

She was thinking about what she had left behind; Donny, Omar, the burning cinema, not to mention a normal life. But despite all of that, it was almost worth it, if only just to see the end of this whole thing.

The truck came to a halt. They had reached their own lines.

One of Landa's men, presumably the man that been driving, pulled open the canvas that acted as a cover for the back of the truck and climbed up to help each prisoner down.

Landa stood below, smiling as each person hopped out. Elsie was last, shaking off the German soldier's helping hand and jumping down on her own. She observed the surrounding forest calmly, glad to still be wearing Utivich's jacket in the icy weather; but she remained without footwear, after refusing a pair of shoes that Landa had so kindly offered.

The SS officer began walking away from the truck, the others following, before coming to a stop a few meters into the woodland.

"Hermann, uncuff them," he ordered.

The soldier obeyed, first releasing Aldo, then Utivich and finally Elsie. Landa passed Aldo his pistol and a small knife, then held up a pair of handcuffs.

"I'm officially surrendering myself over to you, Lieutenant Raine. We're your prisoners."

Aldo took the handcuffs from him and hung them on his pocket.

"What 'bout my knife?" he asked.

Chuckling, Landa reached into his jacket and pulled out Aldo's bowie knife. Aldo took it with a grin.

"Thank-you very much," he said as he slid it into the top of his pants.

He took the handcuffs from his pocket, gun still in hand, and threw them to Utivich.

"Utivich, cuff the Colonel's hands behind his back," he ordered.

"Is that really necessary?" Landa asked.

Aldo glanced at Elsie and they exchanged smirks.

"I'm a slave to appearances," he told him.

In one swift movement, without so much as glancing away from Landa, he shot the driver.

Passing the smaller knife to Utivich, he ordered him to scalp the dead man. Utivich took the knife with a grin and set to work.

Landa stared at Aldo, mouth open in shock.

"Are you mad? What have you done? I made a deal with your General for that man's life!"

"Yeah, they made that deal," Aldo reasoned, "but they don't give a fuck 'bout him. They need you."

"You'll be shot for this!"

"Nah, I don't think so. More like chewed out. I've been chewed out before," Aldo assured him, "You know, Utivich, Elsie and I heard that deal that you made with the brass. End the war tonight? I'd make that deal. How about you Utivich, you make that deal?"

"I'd make that deal," Utivich said as he sliced through the driver's scalp.

Aldo looked at Elsie.

"It's a good deal," she nodded, hands on her hips.

"It's a damn good deal," Aldo agreed, then turning back to Landa, "And that pretty little nest that you feathered for yourself? Well, if you're willing to barbecue the whole High Command, I suppose that's worth certain considerations. But I do have one question..."

Landa was beginning to look terrified.

Elsie was beginning to see where this was going. Her eyes lit up and her mouth twisted into a sadistic smile.

"When you get to your little place on Nantucket Island, I imagine you're goin' ta take off that handsome-lookin' SS uniform of yours. Ain't you?"

Landa stared at him, speechless. His mouth gave a nervous twitch.

"That's what I thought," Aldo nodded, "Now that, I can't abide. What about you Utivich, can you abide it?"

"Not one damn bit, sir," he replied, removing the completely severed scalp of the driver.

"Else," Aldo said, taking out his hunting knife and holding it out to her.

She stared at it.

"Really?"

"Ye-ep. I think you deserve to; bastard did kill your grandfolk."

Elsie looked at Landa with a delighted grin. The color drained from his face.

"If it's all the same, sir," she told Aldo, politely refusing his weapon with a simple gesture of her hand, "I brought my own."

She slid Hugo's knife from its hidden sheath, surprising the Colonel, who hadn't bothered having his men search her too thoroughly. Recognizing the engraved blade, Aldo nodded respectfully. He looked back at the trembling Nazi officer.

"I mean, if I had my way, you'd wear that goddamn uniform for the rest of your pecker-suckin' life. But I'm aware that ain't practical. I mean, at some point, you're goin' to have ta take it off. So, we're gonna give you somethin' you can't take off."

Aldo and Utivich hauled Colonel Landa to the ground, holding him down as Elsie approached with the knife.

And as she made the first cut, with Landa screaming and Aldo smiling at her like a proud father, she realized that although she had vowed to kill the man, maybe this would prove to be even more satisfying.