Disclaimer: it all belongs to Tarantino. Reviews always appreciated, flames forwarded to Hans Landa!
"Morphine!" Donny screamed, growing more and more impatient by the moment. This fucking vet didn't get it, what was there to get? "We need morphine!" he started shooting the dogs in the cages, their whimpers drowned in Donny's screaming for morphine.
The man was shaking his hands in front of his face, wincing and saying something in French. He looked frail and tired, aged faster by the occupation and constant fear- in other words, it was something to play on. Donny huffed and shot another dog until the man squeaked and ran out the door, tripping over his slippered feet.
Donny stuffed the gun back in his pocket and shook his head at Aldo. The lieutenant had hooked his thumbs in his pockets and was chewing on his lip, watching von Hammersmark closely, eyes narrowed.
He had been dwelling on memories earlier, even when he was screaming bloody murder at the doctor. He remembered the first Kraut he killed with the bat as well as its most recent victim. Remembering what came after with Aldo made his breath hitch and he had to swallow and blink a couple of times to bring himself back to the present. He did it so often now; the time had gone fast and slipped through his fingers. How long had it been? A year? Or was it longer? Their numbers had dwindled over the course of time too.
With a jolt, he remembered Wicki and Stiglitz. He'd been shocked, seeing their dead bodies- he'd grown close to all the men, and Donny was not startled by death. But having Stiglitz, who seemed immortal and invincible, dead on the floor...
His eyes flickered over to Utivich and his bloodstained shirt. Poor kid had stared at Stiglitz's dead body, paralyzed. Where the blood on his shirt came from Donny didn't know- then he saw the dagger Utivich was twirling silently in his hands. He caught Donny staring and slipped it into his pocket wordlessly, placing his hand on the chair next to him.
"Hitler will be attending the premiere."
Donny's mind froze as the words hit him. Everything spoken before had been a whirl, a murmur. But that couldn't be possible- Hitler? The Top Dog himself? "What?" he gaped. "Fuck a duck!" His eyes traveled immediately to Aldo in disbelief, yet the lieutenant's glance assured him it was all true, all fucking true.
This wasn't right, none of it was right. Things were spinning out of control too fast for the sergeant to comprehend, to grasp. Operation Kino was a blow-
"Do any of you Americans speak any other language?" von Hammersmark inquired, her shoulders slumped with frustration.
"We speak a little Italian," Donny offered, jabbing a thumb in Aldo's direction.
"Ya know what they call Italian back home?"
Donny rolled his eyes and reached for his beer. "Considering I'm not from a rednecked shitpile, I can't give you an answer, Raine." he snapped. Donny hadn't slept in a week- Kagan's snoring was enough to wake up a dead horse- and he wasn't in the mood for trivial conversations with the lieutenant.
Raine put the snuff box carefully back in his pocket. "Whiny little shit," he muttered , addressing the wall behind Donny. "Try an' teach them somethin' an' they bite your fuckin' head off!"
Aldo spoke the most Italian? It was a joke- if Aldo spoke any Italian other than spaghetti, Donny would go up to Hitler himself and hold up a white flag. Granted, Donny's own knowledge of the language was limited- he maybe knew a handful of real words, but like von Hammersmark said- Krauts didn't know Italian too well, he could just make stuff up.
Utivich was panicking as he explained he didn't have a license- he couldn't even turn on a car. The sergeant heard the condescending tone in Aldo's voice as he informed Utivich he was going to learn damn fast; he even picked up the laugh hiding in the lieutenant's throat. The Little Man was frowning to the floor, unable to face the rest of them.
"I don't have time for incompetent sergeants." Raine had snapped, kicking his boots up onto the table. "So either you start actin' like the thirty-two year old you are or you can go home and have your mamma feed you some nice food and shit."
Donny's eyes became cold. "I didn't come here for that." he hissed. "If anyone's getting pampered around here it's you, sir. Sorry, sir, but I've had the pleasure of doing all your damn work for you!"
Then it hits him. It hits Donny Donowitz harder than the shell that had dug itself in his leg- he was going to die. He attempted to swallow but caught only the dry air. He knew it would happen, he had planned he would die one day.
But he didn't think it would be Aldo to put the death sentence over his head.
Aldo walked next to him as they exited the room, Utivich and Omar behind him. "I need to talk to you," he whispered urgently. "Shit, Aldo, none of this is going to go right-"
"Shut up, would you?" Aldo sighed. He turned around and threw Utivich the keys. "Take the truck out back or somethin' where no one's gonna bother us. Ya got four hours."