Thank you again for all the lovely reviews. You inspire me to continue. It's been a long, hard road, but I can see the end in sight. Hope you'll all be able to hang in there until the end. I think you'll feel it was worth it.
Bates reviews all that happened on his first day embedded with the Boers, meets his contact then finds himself having to act in a questionable manner. Does the end justify the means...
Bates trudged slowly towards the outer perimeter of the Boer encampment, seeking a secluded place to wrap his head around the events of the day.
Sighting a tree stump, John made his way over to it and sat down. As he stretched out his long legs, he sighed and slowly shook his head, not quite believing everything that had happened this first day.
He and his team had been captured, marched into an enemy camp, released, become accepted members of a Boer Commando unit, scouted their surroundings and were now waiting to hear today from their British contact to pass on the intelligence they had garnered. And this was only day one.
And oh yes... one other thing that apparently he alone would have to deal with... Marta...what was he going to do about Marta?
His men had noticed and commented on the special attention the young woman seemed to be displaying towards their sergeant. John had replied gruffly to their comments and the teasing stopped immediately. But still, it was out there and Bates wasn't sure how to approach the situation.
He had to admit that he found her to be quite engaging, attractive with a winning personality. She may have been a bit forward for his tastes, but not enough for him to turn away from her attentions. Yet, he knew that he must.
Bates lips slowly curved up into a smile as he thought of the colonel's daughter, the teasing, and the touch of her hand on his. She was quite pretty and seemed to really like him. But John knew it was wrong and impossible that anything could happen between them. After all he was a married man, and equally as important, she was the enemy.
He was suddenly shaken from his reverie when he noticed some movement in the bushes about 5 yards off to his left. Slowly he turned away from the sound as he reached for his revolver, a Mauser semi-automatic that could fire off 5 rounds quickly. Bates could feel and hear his heart pounding in his chest and feared that whoever or whatever it was that was out there could hear it too. He slowly stood up and turned ready to point and fire if he heard another sound emanating from the leafy cover.
The sweat started to trickle down his forehead and into his eyes, causing a slight sting, and for them to become blurry from the salty sweat. John quickly rubbed them with his left hand in order to clear his vision. He gripped the handle of his gun, his finger on the trigger.
The rustling happened again and just as Bates was about to raise and point his Mauser in the direction he heard someone softly call out his name.
"Pssst...Bates...John Bates..." John couldn't quite believe his ears... "John...Over here Bates!" That last utterance of his name sounded all too familiar. "Good God," John thought. "Not..."
"It's me, Bates... Colonel Crawley!"
"Oh God," John moaned. "Not Robert...not here...not now... Dear God, Please tell me he's not my contact," Bates murmured to himself.
John's mind raced through the hundreds of reasons why Robert Crawley should not be the man hiding behind the bushes... the man to whom he was supposed to pass on his intelligence regarding the Boers and their plans.
Colonel Crawley had a family and 3 daughters to live for and an estate with countless servants depending upon him for their livelihood. He was as brave as any man John had ever encountered and honest as the day was long, but that very openness and veracity were not traits to be admired in the veld, where cunning and deception were required if one was to live to see another day. This was a spy game they were immersed in, not "here-are-your-orders-now-charge-up-that-hill" kind of warfare. Plus Robert had a horrible Afrikaans accent. Should he be stopped there would be no way he could pass himself off as a citizen of the Transvaal.
"John... it's me, Colonel Craw -" Robert was stopped mid-sentence as Bates leaped into the bushes and instantly clasped his hand over Colonel Crawley's mouth.
"MMfmmpt... mmmhhh," Robert struggled to speak, but John just tightened his grip over his superior's mouth and then indicated with his eyes that they should move deeper into the forest.
John loosened his hold on the colonel and they moved swiftly and silently further away from the Boer camp. When they had reached what appeared to Bates to be a safe distance, John huffed and released Robert completely.
"I say Bates, was that all really necessary?" Robert bristled slightly at his former batman. "I mean really, there was no one within 500 yards of us!"
"Begging your pardon, sir," replied John. "But yes, it was necessary. There are patrols roaming all along the perimeter of this camp. We're very lucky we weren't discovered." Bates saw acceptance of his explanation in Robert's face.
"Very well, sergeant. I bow to your knowledge of the camp and its workings. Which brings me to why I'm here. I will be your contact and the conduit through which your information will be passed on to HQ. We shall be working together again, just as we were in the beginning of the war. Only of course, you won't have to be dressing me or fighting beside me as before. Pity that. We made a good team, you and I"
John rolled his eyes as Colonel Crawley reminisced about their past relationship. "Sir, that is in the past and now we must approach our mission with new intent and clarity of action. Forgive me for asking, but why were you chosen to be our contact? As I recall, General Whelan had made it quite clear that you were to stay clear of this campaign and to not ask to be included again, else he was shipping you back to London."
A smirk played across Robert's face as he recounted to John the series of events that had transpired back at HQ...a series of illnesses and accidents and re-assignment of men that ultimately left him to be the only person with enough knowledge of what the mission was about coupled with an ability to ride a horse and also be physically fit enough to endure the rigors of travel across enemy territory. Colonel Crawley was simply the last man standing that could do the job on such short notice. General Whelan had no choice but to give Robert the role of go-between.
"I tell you it was Kismet, Bates." Robert fairly chortled with glee at the thought of how their fates had been combined.
John sighed deeply and shook his head at the way fate had intervened in crossing their paths once again. He came to terms with the odds that it had happened and knew that he and his team must plow forward and do the best they could under the circumstances. Bates hoped that Robert, in his eagerness and patriotic pride hadn't volunteered for something he just wasn't capable of accomplishing.
"We need to set up a contact time and place to pass along what you and you team have found," the colonel whispered. "This area seems relatively secluded...and there is a hollowed out log over there." Robert pointed to a grove of Quiver trees, one of which had fallen over and lie rotting on the ground.
"We'd like weekly reports, so all you need do is put your team's latest written reconnaissance inside the log. Let's schedule it for every Sunday. I'll come by in the afternoon around 4pm. If you need to speak to me in person we'll meet here at that time. Otherwise, you can just leave the information that morning and go on your way. Do you have a better plan?" Colonel looked intently at John.
"No sir. It sounds like a good plan. During this upcoming week, I'll be sure to take each member of the team by here so that they'll know the drop spot. In case I can't get free, one of them should be able to come. I wasn't expecting for you to make contact with me so soon, so I've not written all the information down at this time... but it will be ready to deliver to you this coming Sunday, Colonel."
"Splendid, Bates. It will be like old times. You'll see. Together we'll help bring the Boers to their knees and end this bloody war in no time, " Robert gushed at his wary comrade.
"Very good, sir. Yes, like old times... And I must be off now to_"
Bates stopped in mid-sentence as he heard a voice in the direction they had originally come from. "Sir, you need to get out of here. Do you know where your horse is?"
Robert nodded yes.
"Then stay put for now, Colonel. I'm going to walk over to the perimeter and see if I can engage whoever is out there in some conversation. Once you hear me talking, head for your horse. Best of luck, sir." John turned and headed to where he heard the voice coming from.
As he drew nearer to the perimeter John could vaguely make out in the distance an outline of a person... but what he saw as he came closer stopped him in his tracks.
It was Marta, and she was calling for him.
As he emerged into the clearing, John's heart skipped a beat being greeted with the warmest, kindest smile he'd seen in years. He noticed relief in her eyes also and happiness akin to finding something she had feared had been lost.
"Ah, there you are Sargent Botha. I saw you head out in this direction a while ago and when you didn't return I got somewhat worried."
"Well, we can't have that," John replied softly. God she was really quite beautiful Bates thought. His eyes roamed over her lovely figure and were again caught up by her flawless skin and strawberry blond hair.
"Yes, I was afraid you'd gotten turned around and lost your bearings. I was coming to rescue you." She giggled at the last sentence. The irony that she should be rescuing such a capable, fine figure of a man like Sgt. Botha struck her as quite funny.
Mindful of Robert's need to disappear unnoticed, John boldly stepped forward and continued the conversation. "Then it's a pity that I was able to rescue myself. I think I would have very much liked being rescued by you, Marta."
At his words the young Ms. Veldhuis' face beamed with Joy and she stepped closer to John.
Just then a horse's whinny broke the momentary silence that had fallen between them. Marta froze in place, her mouth opened to speak but before she could say anything John strode towards her, wrapped his arms gently around her waist and pulled her towards him while planting a soft kiss upon her lips.
Distract her...you've got to distract her... was what rattled through John's brain as he started the kiss. But as he felt her melt into his arms... the tip of her tongue run along his bottom lip, John was momentarily lost in the feel and the taste of Marta. Their lips remained touching, teasing as Bates lost all track of time. His mind was split in two, between honor and duty and the more primal need to pull her in even closer.
Eventually the need for air caused them to pull apart briefly but as Marta encircled John's neck with her hands and pulled him closer to continue their kiss John brought his hands up to her arms and gently pulled them down to her sides.
"Marta, I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me. That was wrong, so very wrong." John could feel his cheeks redden as he proffered his apology. Part of him was ashamed for taking advantage of her to protect Colonel Crawley's exit, but the other side of him felt more happy and enlivened by their exchange than he had felt since leaving Vera.
Green eyes stared up and blinked rapidly and Bates could see them slowly start to fill. Oh God, he'd hurt her feelings. John brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs gently wiping aside the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks.
Pulling her towards him, her face resting on his chest, John had to ruefully admit, as he felt his shirt become moistened with the young women's tears. Whoever said that "All's fair in Love and War" certainly didn't know what they were talking about.