Je suis navré,.pour mon mauvais Français dans ce chapitre. S'il vous plaît me dire si quelque chose cloche.
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Carter ran for his life. And he ran for his next life, and the life after that, and everyone else's lives. He could hear the owner of the hobnails started to chase after him, yelling at him to stop or be shot. He could also hear the hobnail's owners summoning his friends, who were trying to slow Carter down with a bullet in his back. None of these things stopped Carter though, he was determined to make it out alive. Where he would end up alive was for him up for grabs at the moment, but when he got there, he wanted to make sure he was intact. Now if only I knew where in Germany I was running, and where in the world I should run to! Carter thought desperately.
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Olsen and Tommy debated a moment. However their resolution was interrupted by shooting. All four members of their tiny party crutched down straining to both hear and see more. They could hear shouting and running heading off in a direction away from theirs, and it didn't take them even a moment to realize, it was the guards chasing after Carter. Looking at each other, it was time to decide what to do. Should they go after him? Leave him? Reclaim him from the guards? Report him as an escape prisoner? Was he a spy and was putting on a show just now? Or was he truly a downed flier? The four men were out of time to decide. If they were going to act they would have to do it now.
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Hogan watched as Schultz ran across the compound from his tiny window. He had heard the yelling and saw the lights suddenly swerve, and had pulled himself back up to look out the window. The suspense of what was going on was killing him. He had to know what was going on.
He began to pace slowly across the little cell. But his speed little by little picked up. Throwing his hands up in frustration he let out a loud groan. If there was one thing that Robert E. Hogan couldn't stand, it was the feeling of being trapped and useless.
"Ce qui est mal, mon Colonel? (What's wrong, Colonel ?)" LeBeau asked sleepily, Hogan's groan having woken him slightly up. Hogan stopped pacing and slightly snickered.
"Rien, LeBeau. (Nothing)" He sighed, and was about to start pacing when an idea hit him. "LeBeau? As tu de ton couteau de chef? (Do you have your cooking knife ?)"
"Oui…." LeBeau answered still mostly asleep. Hogan leaned forward into the cell's bars and reached out his hand grasping the knife as LeBeau handed it to him from the cell next door.
"What do you need it for, mon Colonel?" He asked, now fully awake.
"I'm going to clear us an emergency escape path. There is something go on outside in the compound tonight, and I intend on finding out what it is."
"Colonel, what if Schultz sees…. I mean what if one of the guards sees you?" LeBeau asked correcting himself.
"I'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen then. There is something strange happening in this camp tonight, and I intend to get to the bottom of it, and end it." Hogan turned away from the bars at the door, and over to the ones at the window. Using LeBeau's knife, he started sawing away at the point on the bars where they meet the bottom of the window.
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Schultz stirred Newkirk back into the tiny barrack, and then directly to his bed. He took his hand off Newkirk and turned him around so he was facing him. Newkirk felt a bit like a child about to be lectured.
"Now Newkirk," Schultz whispered, "please go to bed, and stay there. It is too dangerous to be walking around at night, gell?"
"Right, Schultzie."
"Sleep dreams, Newkirk."
"Night Schultz." Newkirk turned and crawled back into his bottom bunk, having traded back with Carter earlier.
"Did you find him, Newkirk?" Kinch whispered from somewhere in the darkness, the moment Schultz shut the door.
"No. Schultz 'ad no idea 'at 'e was missin'." Newkirk slid under the thin wool blanket. Kinch sighed and sat up on his bunk. Running his fingers threw his hair.
"I wonder where he could be."
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Carter was running out of steam. However he was determined to give a good chase. Hopping over log, Carter realized from the shadows in the distance he had come to the edge of the woods. He was now entering a town. Panting, he wondered if he could lose the guards among the buildings. In his renewed excitement he rushed out of the wood and immediately fell down a slight hill, coming instantly face to ground. Carter let out a scream in surprise. Brushing the dirt out of his nose and mouth, a guard managed to seize him before he got up and running again.
"Sie sind richtig in der Klemme, junge. (You are really in trouble this time, kid.)" The older German sighed, grasping Carter's shoulder tightly. Carter's heart seemed to beat a million times faster than when he was running, with the man's hand on his shoulder. "Kommen Sie. Wir gehen, ja? (Come-on. Let's go, hm?)" Carter on the other hand, merely nodded. He felt was if he was detached from his body, not in control, and thus didn't need to truly understand what was going on.
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"So, it's settled then?" Olsen barely whispered, his whole body straining to hear what was going on with Carter.
"I still think it's a terrible idea." Bailey shook his head.
"What other choice do we have, mate?" Thompson looked at Bailey.
"I dunno…I just don't like it."
"So it's settled then. Come-on, gang." Olsen stood up, stretching his legs immediately upon doing so. Glancing back into the woods, he let out a deep breath, and slowly shook his head. "I hope we know what we are doing…"
"Come-on then, we might as well get started." Tommy Rose waved at the others to follow him. "Out of curiosity. Just who is gonna take the wrap for this when the Colonel finds out?" He looked straight at Olsen.
"I will I suppose. I'm suppose to be in charge, aren't I? Guess that comes with the territory." Olsen faked a grin that no one could see in the dark.
"When do you want to tell him?" Rose took a few steps, the others following directly behind him.
"Tomorrow. He should be outta the cooler by then, and I will have a chance to get one more night's sleep before I'm shot at dawn."
"I think it's against the Geneva Convention to shoot your own men." Bailey laughed almost silently.
"Tell that to the Colonel after he finds out what we did….but before he decides to shoot me please." The rest of the walk was met with complete silence. Each man left to his own thoughts, and his ears to every sound around them.