Thank you for putting this story in your alerts, it means you're very enthusiastic and eager to know what's going next. As I always say, I hope it won't disappoint anyone.
Okay, as I said before, this story is happening weeks after The Man who Shot Anton Havel, and it makes references to it. But it doesn't mean that you've got to read that one to understand this one. If it comes confusing at any time, just let me know and I'll clarify the facts for you. ;)
One more thing, I don't believe in magic or bad luck whatsoever, the facts presented in this story are for fun and pure entertainment only.
The French texts are translated (accurately enough, I hope) at the end of the chapter... This is a man's barrack, so please excuse LeBeau's French LOL.
2. Something wicked this way comes...
The witch stirred her brew in a big fat, magic pot. The thunderstorm swept the field sending Felix, Barrack 2's pet mouse, chattering to his grass nest. The wind blowing between the branches sounded like someone sobbing. The night was less than peaceful.
Newkirk's tossing and turning ended by waking up his lower bunk fellow. Carter sat up and knocked softly on the boards above him.
"Newkirk? Are you all right?" he whispered.
The corporal sighed patiently. He had been enduring the same question for weeks after he was seriously wounded during their last mission. At first, his friends' concern had been touching but later on, it had become simply annoying. What if he told the truth and said no? Would they stop asking stupid questions?
Nobody wanted to hear the truth... "Of course I'm all right. How else could I be?" He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. "Can't sleep, that's all."
"It's the wind, very weird this time of the year," Carter said.
"Didn't ask for the ruddy weather report, Andrew. It's not the wind." It took him one second to understand he had been unnecessarily rude. "I'm sorry... Maybe it's the wind all right."
Carter kept quiet for a while. "Are you thinking of the ghost you saw at the cemetery?"
"Who says I saw a ghost?" Newkirk frowned. "Oh, all right. Whatever Kinch and LeBeau told you, it didn't happen like that. I didn't say I saw a ghost."
"It's okay, Newkirk, I've had my own stories about ghosts. Back in my hometown-"
"Carter, I did not see a bloody ghost!"
At that moment, there was a dragging sound as something scratched the walls of the barrack. Newkirk stopped talking and listened attentively. The noise ran above the ceiling and the windows as though someone or something were looking for a way to enter. It stopped at the door with a sound like sniffing.
"Newkirk?" Carter's voice was weaken.
"It's the ruddy wind," Newkirk tried to sound convincing. The sniffing continued up and down the door. "D'you wanna come upstairs for a while?"
"Glad to," Carter said climbing up to sit next to Newkirk. Both men kept staring at the door. "One of the dogs got loose maybe."
"Yeah, maybe." Newkirk answered absently with his eyes on the line of light between the door and the floor. Then, the door handle began to move. "Blimey," he whispered.
Carter found it difficult to keep his breathing under control. He had to clench his teeth to stop them from chattering. Newkirk forgot the cigarette in his hand and it burned his fingers. He tossed it on the floor only to see that his hands were shaking. The scratching sound continued to increase until a strong bang coming from the opposite side stopped the noises altogether. Carter and Newkirk jumped and screamed together.
Almost at the same time, another scream answered from under LeBeau's bunk. The Frenchman jumped down and ran to switch the lights on. Still dazzled by the sudden brightness, Newkirk turned to see what had made that last noise. Kinch was just coming up from the tunnel with one hand over his heart.
"What the-!" the sergeant yelled. "You scared the hell out of me! What's with you two guys?"
Carter was still recovering his color when he climbed down. "Boy, did we scare you? What was the idea of making those noises in the dark, Kinch?"
"Me? I've just come up here. I don't know what you're talking about." He was holding a piece of paper in his hand as he walked towards Hogan's office. "I'm getting tired of your little pranks, guys."
"What bleeding pranks? Something was out there, didn't you hear it?" Newkirk looked for another cigarette.
"Is this part of the same game at the cemetery, Newkirk? It's not funny anymore." LeBeau climbed up to his bed and lied down. "Someone turn off the lights once and for all. Il est impossible dormir dans cet lieu de merde*!"
Kinch waited for everybody to be back on their bunks before turning off the lights. He shook his head and knocked on Hogan's door.
Newkirk sat up again trying to figure out why odd things had begun to happen all of a sudden. Fortunately for him, he did not actually believe in those things. Otherwise, he would be really scared.
()o()o()
Hogan was on his bunk, doing some reading before going to sleep. He heard the knocking at his door and Kinch coming in.
"What's all that noise out there?" He said climbing down.
"Newkirk and Carter starting Halloween celebrations early this year." Kinch sat at the table.
"At this hour?" Hogan chuckled. "I'm glad Newkirk's feeling better but this is a little irregular. Don't you think?"
"I don't know what's with him lately. But I suppose it's just all that time off he's been having," Kinch said. "Let's hope he puts his head on more important things now that he's completely back."
"Do you really think so? Is he completely back?"
"Sure," Kinch said quickly. Then, he caught Hogan's gaze and sighed. "I don't know. Maybe he needs more time."
"What do you mean?" Hogan went to the desk. "Has he talked to you about it?"
"I wish," Kinch snorted. "But, in fact, he's been rather quiet."
"Yeah, I know." Hogan shrugged. "Wilson says that he just needs time but, it worries me. Those moody changes at war time are never a good sign."
"We need to trust him, I guess. Give him space to figure things out. He'll pull through."
"Let's hope so." Hogan nodded as he read the message. "Did you read this?"
"I read the same thing, sir," said Kinch with a shrug. "But I think I missed the previous message. London is confirming the assignment of an observer?"
Hogan sat down. "Do you remember that mission several weeks ago at Schienbein Stadt?"
"The one when Newkirk was shot and Carter fought a duel?" Kinch smiled. "Hard to forget."
"Well, our target, Vasile Dalibor, wasn't satisfied with our services and promised to present a formal complaint. He did. Now London is considering sending an observer in order to confirm it or dismiss it."
"The nerve, how can they take him seriously? After all he has done, is that fair?"
"It's not about fairness, Kinch. It's about the image of our operations," said Hogan. "The man may be in prison, pending trial for crimes of war, but he can still open his mouth and cause us a lot of damage."
"It's pure vengeance. No one will believe him."
"Well, no, but in the meantime, someone is coming to watch us and take notes."
"What things will they be looking for?" Kinch took the paper and read it again.
"I'm not quite sure. I'll talk to London to clarify the charges." Hogan grimaced at Kinch's puzzled look. "It might concern Carter and Newkirk directly. They must not know about this yet, okay."
"My lips are sealed. As long as I get all the details."
"You will. This has to stay between you and me. I don't want to upset the troops, especially them both. They don't deserve being harassed after putting their lives on the line for that man." He stood up and went to his archives. "So, where are we in the latest mission? Any new developments?"
"I made a few calls. The word is about a secret weapon. Nobody seems to know further than that."
Hogan was quiet for a moment. "How about Benny from the grocery store? He's well connected."
"Oh, yeah. But how will we get him? He's always in his place and we can't go out during the day."
Hogan paced around while a plan began to form in his mind. After several minutes, he stopped. "How about this? Burckhalter is throwing a party for his few friends at Klink's place this weekend. We can volunteer LeBeau to cook for them. Klink will have to send him to buy some groceries."
"I'll send Benny a message tonight and we'll get the answer tomorrow morning when LeBeau gets to go to the store."
Hogan grinned. "Let's send Newkirk too, he needs fresh air."
"As Carter would say, two turkeys with the same shot," Kinch chuckled.
()o()o()
When young corporal Karl Lang showed for work that evening at the Gestapo HQ, he never thought this would be his last day. His assignment was supposed to be simple and easy. He just had to go downstairs and feed the prisoner. And so he did.
That lovely lady in the cell let him sit with her on the cot. She smiled and talked to him about nothing in particular. She told him about her collection of beautiful dolls and how Miss Edith, her favorite, told her stories while they had tea together.
Karl Lang enjoyed his visit so much that he did not notice that the lady had not eaten anything from the tray he had put on the table. She kept talking and talking until her voice was the only thing he could hear in his head. He looked her in the eyes and felt numbed. One minute he was yawning and considering to lie down, and the other, he was flat dead.
Captain Grunwald arrived two hours later. Drusilla welcomed him with an innocent smile.
"Lovely evening we have today, don't we." She came closer. "Are you tired? It's almost midnight, good captains should be in bed by now."
The captain took out the crucifix he wore around his neck and put it in front of him. "Stay away, creature from hell," he said in a controlled voice. He signed for his men to remove the body of Karl Lang.
"I liked the little present you sent me. But I think he got tired and went to sleep," she pouted. "Maybe the next one will stay for a bit longer." She glanced at the two guards behind the captain.
"Stay away from my men!" He pointed the crucifix towards her.
"Now, Captain, that's not nice. Especially when it was you who sent this man to me."
The guards stared at each other nervously. Drusilla perceived that they were terrified
"Don't be like that, boys. I'm pretty sure that the captain will send you down here eventually." She showed her perfectly even teeth.
Captain Grunwald could barely hide his anger when he dismissed his men. He waited until they were alone to glare at Drusilla.
"Are you going to torture me now?" She almost begged for it.
"You think this impresses me? You're nothing but a little monster. I'm ready to deal with you the minute your boyfriend comes back with the thief."
"Poor little soldier... You thought you'd have the cake just for you... how many chairs are at your table?"
Grunwald was mortified at having to deal with such a deranged creature. Of all his assignments, this one had proven to be the strangest and most disturbing he had ever had. He should have asked for better incentives just for having to deal with vampires.
Drusilla sang before plunging into a distracted dance around her cell.
Pauvre soldat revient de guerre,
Tout doux.
Pauvre soldat revient de guerre,
Tout doux.
Mal équipé, tout mal vêtu,
Un pied chaussé et l'autre nu,
Tout doux.**
Having decided that there was nothing more to discuss, Captain Grunwald went away, shaking his head and wishing he had been assigned to Paris or Côte D'Azur.
()o()o()
The night was almost over when LeBeau woke up to the mumbling from the next bunk. He strained his ear to hear above the wind blowing outside. "Uncroyable!" he whispered when he realized it was Newkirk singing in his dreams.
"S'en va trouver dame l'hôtesse,Tout doux. S'en va trouver dame l'hôtesse, Tout doux. "Qu'on apporte ici du vin blanc Que le soldat boive en passant !" Tout doux..."***
LeBeau threw his beret to hit Newkirk on the leg. "Tais-toi! J'en ai ras-le-bol!"****
"Oh, c'mon!"
"You gotta be kiddin' me!"
"Not again!"
Curses and complaints began to fill the dark. Newkirk sat up still confused by the rude awakening. He found LeBeau's beret next to him. "Hey, what's the idea?"
"You tell me, Le Maurice Chavalier des pauvres."***** LeBeau jumped down his bunk and went to the stove. "Who said you could sing, anyway?"
"Me, singing? What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
"Hey! Keep it down, decent people are trying to sleep in here," Carter said covering his face with his hat.
"Back off!" said Newkirk throwing the beret at him.
"All right, knock it off," Kinch got up and sat on his bunk. "It's almost roll call, anyway."
"Oh, yes, another sweet night that goes blank thanks to Newkirk." LeBeau shook his head and moved the coffee pot to get more heat from the stove.
"It's not me fault. I haven't done anything!" Newkirk came down and went to splash his face with fresh water. "Some people."
Hogan finally opened his door. The turmoil had set the pace of his mood for that day. "Could you be a little louder? I think Klink hasn't heard you yet." He spoke to everybody. "It sounds like a boarding school for girls. What's going on here?"
His question was answered by complaints coming from everywhere. He had to step forward and shut them all up. "Kinch?"
"I just woke up, sir. It seems that Newkirk and LeBeau are quarrelling about something."
"It's not a quarrel, Colonel." LeBeau came closer. "First, the ghost stories, then, the yelling at midnight and now, he was singing. In French!"
"I don't sing in French. I don't know a ruddy song in French! And why in the world would I be singing at this hour anyway?" Newkirk turned to Hogan.
"You got that right, Newkirk is not a morning person," Carter chuckled.
"Back on track, guys." Hogan took a mug to pour some coffee. "We're still in the sabotage business, remember?" He sat at the table. "Kinch, how are we with the underground?"
"They'll have something for us at Benny's Grocery Store today at ten." Kinch stretched.
"LeBeau, you have to go shopping," Hogan said.
"Why? I only go when I cook for-" LeBeau grimaced. "Oh, Colonel, do I have to?"
"How are we going to pick up the message otherwise?" Hogan shrugged. "You don't have to buy anything fancy, just one thing here and there-"
"There is nothing I can cook with one thing here and there," LeBeau said indignantly.
"Do as much as you can," Hogan smiled. "Newkirk, you'll go with him. And before any of you say something else, patch up your differences right now. We have enough with the war outside, understood?"
"Yes, sir," LeBeau said reluctantly.
Newkirk sighed when every pair of eyes turned to him. "All right, but I insist that I'm completely innocent of-"
"Newkirk, just agree and let it go," Kinch said.
The Englishman shrugged and turned to LeBeau. "Sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay. But you're a terrible singer," LeBeau smiled.
A gust of wind slammed the door open. Newkirk had to jump back to avoid being hit.
"Blimey, did you see that?"
"The door just attacked Newkirk! I told you, this wind is not like any other we have had before." Carter shook his head. "It's like something is coming this way."
"Something wicked?" Kinch chuckled.
A sonorous yell of roll call startled everybody at Barrack 2. Hogan watched his men get ready and go out. He followed them, hoping that this would not be the forecast of a bad day.
tbc
* "It is impossible to sleep in this place of shit!"
**Poor soldier returning from war
Gently.
Poor soldier returning from war
Gently.
Poorly equipped, ill-dressed,
A foot shod and the other bare,
Gently.
***Goes to find the lady hostess
Gently.
Goes to find the lady hostess
Gently.
"Let them bring in white wine
The soldier drinks the way! "
Gently.
****Shut up! I'm fed up!
***** The Maurice Chavalier of the poor
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