45.

~ Arthur felt hope drain out of him. He was kept separated from his men and was forced to stay in the house where he was warm and dry. He slept on the floor as the bitter wind howled against the window. By afternoon, he was brought a small ration of bread and cheese again. No coffee this time, or fruit.

'Little Prick' would talk to him for hours. Arthur, always refusing to sit with him. Choosing instead to stand. The height difference making him feel better as he towered over the man who held him.

"My men?" Arthur asked. Little Prick sighed.

"Just like you Major, I care about my own men. I want them out of this dieing world and safely in a warm, dry place. Australia perhaps or South America. This, your people can arrange for us." He said. "For this, we give you and your men back."

"That's not what I asked you." Arthur said with a growl. "I asked if my men were alright. You can't get anything if my men are hurt in any way. Are they being fed?"

"Alas, winter is never kind." Was all Little Prick said as the two thugs marched into the room after Arthur had finished eating.

He was beaten again. His barely healed cuts re-opening. Little Prick standing over him as finally, the guards left him bleeding on the floor and gasping for air.

"I enjoyed my time with your wife's photo last night." The Nazi said in a slanderous tone. "Ariadne is it? Beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, yes?"

Arthur said nothing. He was fairly sure his rib was broken and he clutched it in pain.

"Tell me, when you come limping home, will she still want you? Your child, a boy lets say, what will he think of you? Will he be proud of the man he sees? A broken man? A hobbled man? A man, who's wife can barely stand the sight of?"

Arthur spat out more blood and tried to ignore Little Prick.

"Oh, I have no doubt your wife will remarry. Even with a child in tow. She is lovely. She will find some nice man. A whole man. One who will keep her bed warm. I imagined her last night. Doing all kinds of wicked things to me. She may look sweet and innocent in pictures, but I can tell she loves to do dirty things with men." He said lighting a cigarette. "I kept myself very pleased thinking of all she would do to me."

Arthur ignored the sharp, protesting pain in his rib and found the strength to attack the Nazi officer. What he had said hurt him. Wounded him worse then any blow.

The Major was quick and nimble and easily took down the clumsy Nazi. He was on him then, hitting him repeatedly while the officer tried to shout for help.

Blood was flowing from the Nazi's face when a riffle butt hit Arthur in the head. His world going black again.

~ He was in the woods again. The falling ash looked like snow, only it fell in gray flakes. Coating everything around him in a dark evil.

"Arthur?" Came a voice. His bride was sitting next to him as he opened his eyes.

"Ariadne." He groaned. "What happened?"

"We are lost." She whispered. Her voice odd.

"Ariadne?" He asked as he looked at her. She was in the blue dress. The one he saw her in that summer day in London. The one he married her in.

"You lost us." She whispered as falling ash collected on her hair and face. "We are all lost now." She said standing up and walking away from him.

"Please. Ariadne." He said trying to stand up.

"I'm dead Arthur. I died before I even reached Dunkirk. You only dreamed of me." She taunted him from the trees.

"Ariadne. You're my wife, the mother of my only child. Please don't go!" He shouted as he tried to stand again.

The girl he dreamed into life, who danced on his feet, vanishing into ash.

~ Arthur paid dearly for his revenge. He was locked in a room with no windows and barely enough space to lay down in. He was given no mattress and had to sleep on the ice cold floor. The only other object in the room was a bucket for when nature called.

"Major, I believe you have broken my nose." The Little Prick said holding a white handkerchief to his bleeding face.

"I think it suits you." Arthur said callously. His face hurt and was bleeding. His eyes swollen almost shut.

The Nazi glared back at the major through blacked eyes and a red, swollen, disfigured nose.

"Your men, will pay the price for your savagery, Major." Little Prick said. "And I will make certain they know who is responsible."

The heavy door slammed shut and Arthur was alone in the dark.

~ "I have never met so many fucking little pricks, as I have in this war!" The colonel fumed. He was chewing on a cigar again. Command had refused his request to go back for the remaining men that were being held. Burch had just seen the wounded off on a plane to London. Colonel Cobb was not looking well. He was sweating and coughing and the medic had said something about blood poisoning. Eames had begged the medic not to amputate the leg that had turned black around the wound. Instead giving him a shot of antibiotics. Burch doubted he would make it.

Eames was standing close by and waiting to find out what would happen next.

"What do we do now, Sir?" Eames asked.

"Your not in this man's Army, Son." The gruff officer said. "You go back to your own people."

"Sir, these are my people. These my friends." Eames said. "You promised Arthur you would come back for him and I want to help. I ran away and left them. I have to help." Eames said. His face almost manic.
"You did the right thing." Burch said looking at Eames. "If you hadn't have found help, we never would have been able to find them. Still, it won't do any good because I can't get orders for a rescue." The gruff officer said.

"I say 'fuck that'." Eames said liking the casual swearing of the American.

Burch looked at Eames in surprise.

"That's the attitude I need." He said. "You talked me into it. But if we get caught, I'm going to say it was all your idea."

"Fair enough." Eames said.

~ Arthur had no idea how much time had passed while in his windowless cell. He had not been fed and the sharp insistent pain of hunger made it hard to sleep. Whatever fat he had on his lean body was slowly melting away and making him feel the cold so much more sharply.

The Little Prick had stopped coming to see him and Arthur wondered if he had been in this dark place for days or years. His face and body hurt from the cold and the beating as he passed his time sleeping and dreaming.

When he slept, he slept deeply.

~ Dreamed of cities turned to dust. Of children's shoes. Of a girl in a blue dress turning to ash before he could reach her. And then, far in the distance, a baby was crying. Instinctively, he knew it was his child. Destined to be born to a father that would be dead before it breathed it's first breath. He would never see his child. Never see his wife again.

Deep in his mind, was a nagging pain of doubt. Was Ariadne even real? Did he just imagine her? He no longer had proof she existed. What if he had only dreamed her?

Days had blended together and he was no longer sure what was real and what was not.

~ In a frozen wasteland. Eames had climbed a high tree. He was watching the camp from this height and doing recon. The prisoners was still huddled in the solitary barrack. It looked like they were being fed at least once a day, but the unforgiving cold would mean they would not be able to survive much longer.

The colonel was camped out a few miles away with a dozen volunteers. Some of whom Arthur had saved from the front. They had all defied orders and made an illegal trek into the snow to rescue the men.

~ "Sir." Eames said after watching the camp for a few hours. "Men are still in the barrack."

"The major?" The gruff officer asked chewing his unlit cigar.

"Didn't see him." Eames sighed. They had no fire burning and instead built igloo type shelter in the snow. There presence in these woods was completely hidden.

"Little pricks most likely have him in another place." Colonel Burch said.

"How do you know that?" Eames asked.

"It's what I would do. Separate your officer from the men. Tell him you men have betrayed you or their dead. He's somewhere else."

"So what do we do?" Eames asked.
"Were running out of time. The cold is hurting those men and if the major is still alive, he is on borrowed time." Burch said. The other men looked at their leader excitedly. "We roll in tonight." He said finally.

~ Arthur was half asleep when the sound of grenades shook him awake. He would know the sound they made anywhere. They were American built weapons and had a very distinct noise when they went off. He could hear shouting through the walls on the house and gun fire. A distant tat tat tat from outside. More shouting and he could hear footsteps running to his cell.

His door flew open and Arthur was blinded by the light that flooded his dark room.

"I can at least make sure you never see home again, Major." The Nazi officer said pointing a Luger at Arthur as he tried to get his broken, beaten and starved body to stand.

If he was fated to die here, he would die on his feet.

Then, there was a loud bang and the Nazi's face melted. Eames appeared in the lighted hallway.

"Hello, Major." The Lieutenant said with a cocky smile. "You ready to leave yet?" He asked helping the wounded man to his feet.

Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the dead Nazi that had tormented him. His face blow away by the Lieutenant.

"Stop, stop just a second." Arthur said collapsing on the Nazi who's face looked like raw hamburger meat.

"We don't have a lot of time, Mate." Eames said said worriedly as Arthur looked through the Nazi officer's pockets. His hands found the familiar silver cigarette case and he quickly pocketed it along with the Luger.

Outside was a dark world of smoke and confusion.

"Major!" Colonel Burch said as Eames helped Arthur hobble out of the guard house. "Are you injured?" He asked.

"No, Sir." Trying to stand straighter and walk on his own power.

"Good man." The gruff colonel said. "Ask these little dick suckers where the trucks are." He said.

Arthur saw the Nazis were all kneeling in the snow. Looking worried as several of their American and British prisoners stood over them with their own rifles. The former prisoners had overtaken them when the attack happened.

Arthur slowly asked them where the trucks were and the Nazis pointed to a garage across the camp. Camouflaged to blend in with the trees.

"You men, go!" Burch said nodding to the other prisoners. "You men, put them down. We don't have room for prisoners, and I'm not feeding them." He said to the men holding weapons over the guards.

They didn't have to be told twice. Arthur watched in cold comfort as his men shot their captures in the head. Blood spotting the snow as Eames helped him walk to the garage.

"Glad to see your alright, Sir." The skinny corporal said.

"Glad to see you are." Arthur said patting the young man on the back. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Were all still alive and ready to leave, sir." The Skinny Corporal said as the trucks roared into life. Eames put Arthur in the passenger seat and drove them out behind the gruff officer's truck. The men crowded in the back.

The trucks vanished in the snow. The campy was empty, with only the dead left behind.