Going Camping, Part 1

Disclaimer: Same as before…

The Pit, The Airfield
Conrad, Kate, Sedgwick, Roadblock and Todd
08 March 2002, 0652

Conrad whistled a tune as he, Kate, Sedgwick, Roadblock, and Todd supervised a couple of airmen loading their baggage and equipment into the cargo hold of a Learjet parked on the tarmac.

"Whatcha whistling?" Todd asked.

"Morgen Marschieren Wir, it's a German marching song used by the Wehrmacht and later adopted by the Legion after the Second World War," Conrad replied.

"How did the French Foreign Legion have a German song in their songbook?" Todd asked, with a curious look.

"At one stage following the Second World War the Legion was 35% German. There have always been lots of them in the Legion and they influenced several of our traditions." Conrad said with a small smile.

"Well, is everyone ready to go?" A Texan man with red hair and matching handlebar mustache said as he approached the fivesome.

"Meet Wild Bill," Roadblock said, "He'll be our pilot for this trip."

"And here's our sendoff," Conrad smirked, indicating Shipwreck with Althea and the Triplets.

Kate turned around in time to see the five of them at the airfield perimeter fence, waving goodbye. The Triplets held a banner that said, Goodbye Todd! Don't Get Eaten!

"That's a great Jurassic Park reference there," Sedgwick muttered as they all waved goodbye before stepping onto the jet.

"Don't bring that up around Conrad," Kate whispered, "We're still at loggerheads over the entire Spinosaurus and satellite phone incident."

As they stepped onto the aircraft and buckled into their seats Todd looked a bit sad. Roadblock glanced over at the boy, "What's wrong kid? Don't you wanna go?"

"No, it's not that. I just...wanted to say goodbye to the Althea. That's all."

"Thought you did that last night." Roadblock said with a small, knowing smile.

"You know about all those times I snuck out?" Todd reddened.

"I know everything," Roadblock raised an eyebrow as the jet engines whined.

Shortly after takeoff Todd turned to Roadblock, "Are we there yet?""

"No," Roadblock sighed.

Wild Bill's voice came over the PA system, "Hey pardners, the PA system is wired so I can hear ya'll back there if you wanna talk. It's a bit lonely up here in the cockpit. How about we sing. Oh the Yellow Rose of Texas..."

"Something we all know, Wild Bill." Roadblock piped up.

"Morgen Marschieren Wir…" Conrad began.

"In a language we all speak, Conrad." Kate added, with a playful punch to the arm.

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves!" Wild Bill began.

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves!" Todd joined in, followed by Conrad and Sedgwick in short order, "And this is how it goes! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves…"

"Oh Lord, how much coffee did you have Wild Bill?" Roadblock asked as the three of them went through two more repetitions of the song.

"I'm not sure about Wild Bill, but I know Conrad and Sedgwick each had a paper cup each of BA's coffee this morning." Kate sighed, burying her head in her hands.

"I'm gonna throw you four out of the plane! Right outta the plane! Right outta the plane!" Roadblock bellowed in reply.

"I'm gonna throw you four outta the plane! You're driving me insane!" Kate joined Roadblock in singing as well.

"So will you four SHUT UP!?" Roadblock shouted.

The three went silent. Kate sighed, "That's better. I should have known BA would be delivering one vat of his Ultimate Eye Opener to the airfield."

"I got a thermos full of the stuff right here," Conrad replied, reading under his seat for his backpack and extracting it, "Uh-oh!"

"What do you mean by uh-oh?" Kate asked, "I hope you mean your thermos seal gave way and it leaked all over your backpack."

"No, I don't…" Conrad replied.

"Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting…" Todd sang out.

Kate reached into her own backpack, pulling out her CD player, "This is going to be a long flight…"

"Agreed, mademoiselle," Conrad replied, before putting his own headphones into his CD player and as the flight wore on sleep claimed him.

Sleep would bring Conrad to Fiddler's Green once more. As he walked into the tavern's smoky interior he heard the out of tune piano clattering. Five Legionnaires from the Algerian War of the 1950s-1960s were clustered around the piano passing a bottle of wine between them and knocking back slugs of it as they played a tune Conrad recognized, Morgen Marschieren Wir.

He heard the men sound off with the German lyrics of the song, "Morning we're marching off! To the farm in the nighttime loft! A cup of sweetened tea. Sugar and coffee."

"A cup of sweetened tea. Sugar and coffee." A contingent of Legionnaires from World War II throwing darts at the dartboard echoed.

"And a glass of wine!" The men at the piano sang out.

"And a glass of wine!" A lone Legionnaire from the Indochina War sang out as he staggered drunkenly past Conrad with a bottle of cognac clutched by the neck in one hand and supported at each arm by a barmaid.

"Hah!" Van Pelt laughed as he walked past the man towards Conrad, thrusting a glass of beer into his hand.

"Prost, old friend." Van Pelt said, raising his glass and drinking a gulp of his beer.

"Prost, Sergent-Chef!" Conrad replied, raising his own drink, and knocking down a slug before walking to a table where Putman, Rocha and Peralta waited.

"Morning we're marching off! To the farm in that nighttime loft! When I go to leave, my sweetheart cries and heaves!" The Legionnaires at the piano continued to sing as the took hits from the bottle of wine.

"When I go to leave, my sweetheart cries and heaves." A group of World War II era Legionnaires sang out.

"And she looks so sad!" The men at the piano sang out.

A pair of Indochina era Legionnaires echoed, "And she looks so sad!"

Conrad watched as Van Pelt raised his right arm to drink and saw the small white shield with the letters 'SS' inside it tattooed on his right forearm.

"I'd been meaning to ask about that," Putman asked as Van Pelt swallowed a mouthful of beer, "Why do you have symbol of the Waffen-SS tattooed on your forearm, yet you saved my life in Africa?"

"Isn't it obvious. Our code of honor clearly states that every Legionnaire is your brother in arms," Van Pelt replied.

"Yet you wear a symbol from a group that promoted racial hatred," Putman countered, "And was responsible for numerous atrocities during the Second World War."

"I won't deny the rumors. Before joining La Legion I ran with a group of Skinheads in the Netherlands," Van Pelt said, "But that wasn't why I got this tattoo."

"Why…" Putman began, before Van Pelt turned his left forearm and pointed to a single word in Gothic script that read Nederland.

"My father fought in a unit of Dutch volunteers, the 4th SS Volunteer Brigade, Nederland, during the Second World War." Van Pelt replied, "And, no, he didn't buy into Herr Himmler's flights of fancy on racial superiority."

Putman's eyes went wide, "Then why join the Waffen-SS?"

"Communists," Van Pelt replied, "There were communists in the Netherlands and at times they could be violent. His own baby sister was beaten and raped by a half dozen of them. He felt, at the time, Hitler was the only one doing anything about the Communists so he made a deal with the devil and fought with the Waffen-SS on the Eastern Front."

"So to remember your father you got the SS runes and the name of his unit tattooed into your forearms?" Putman replied. Van Pelt nodded wordlessly.

"Sweetheart go back to your home! For it's late and the heart is sure to roam! Don't be bound in sorrow. Go and wake tomorrow!" The cluster of Legionnaires from World War II sang out as one of them knocked back a mouthful of cognac from a bottle he clutched by the neck in one hand before throwing a knife at the dartboard.

The knife quivered as it embedded itself in the wall, a meter to the left of the dartboard. The cluster of men around the now crestfallen Legionnaire laughed before they each took a slug from the bottle of cognac.

The men at the piano echoed back, "Don't be bound in sorrow! Go and wake tomorrow!"

"Speaking of ink," Ian replied as he approached the table with a pitcher of ale in each hand, "Doesn't Agent Todd have some ink on her as well?"

"Oh, what is it?" Van Pelt asked.

Here comes the hurricane. Conrad thought to himself, "It's a rose, on her right butt cheek."

"I'm sure there's something somewhere that governs sleeping with coworkers," Ian replied with a toothy grin.

"I didn't sleep with her," Conrad snapped back, slamming his half empty glass down onto the table.

"And see the dawn!" The Legionnaires at the dartboard sang out.

"Oh," Van Pelt smirked, "So if you didn't sleep with her, how do you know she has a rose tattooed on her butt?"

"I walked in on her in the shower," Conrad replied with a sheepish expression to the chorus of laughter and at least one punch on the arm from his mates.

"Hah! Nice!" Peralta laughed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes before punching his old friend on the arm.

"And see the dawn!" The Legionnaires at the piano shouted between gulps of wine.

"I'm sure you enjoyed the view," Ian toothily grinned.

"Of course I did," Conrad reddened as he drank, "What man wouldn't?"

"A homosexual," Peralta deadpanned.

The group laughed as a Legionnaire from the First World War lumbered by, a mug of ale in each hand, drinking from both.

"Didn't she fall on a boat you were on and you caught her, before falling over tangled in each other's arms?" Putman grinned, twisting the knife further.

"Oh? How did that happen?" Van Pelt asked.

"We were searching for Todd and Althea after the former ran off. And when we spotted them Wetsuit turned the boat too sharply, Kate lost her footing and I caught her only to lose my footing." Conrad explained.

"Sweetheart I love you true! But be married, I cannot do! Wait for me a year! Then when we are near..." The Legionnaires at the piano sang out.

"Well it's obvious you're quite fond of the lady." Putman tipped the remnants of the mug into his mouth.

"She does have a boyfriend." Conrad countered.

"Women have been known to change their minds, as Wiersbowski always said," Putman replied.

"In a way, my friend," Peralta said, "This is a good thing for you."

"Oh?" Conrad replied.

"Well, it's the first time you've really opened up to a woman since Brook…" Peralta replied as Conrad's expression turned stony.

"That was a different case," Conrad replied, "I put everything on the line for her only to be betrayed."

"Didn't Kate tell you that abuse victims have a hard time testifying that they are being abused?" Ian added, "I saw that during my own work in law enforcement before the Legion."

"If anyone deserves to hang it's that damnable Trent Bailey! I don't believe he's still an officer in the US Marine Corps!" Conrad angrily declared.

"Wait for me a year! Then when we are near…" The Legionnaires at the dartboard sang out.

"...We'll be quite a pair!" The First World War Legionnaire with a mug in each hand sang out before upending the contents of first one and then the other down his gullet. He walked two paces before falling over to the chorus of laughs from several onlookers.

"...We'll be quite a pair!" The Legionnaires at the piano bellowed out before the man at the keys added a last riff.

As the last notes of the riff played Conrad felt the world swirl around him as he returned to wakefulness.

Hotel El Panama
Kate Todd and Conrad Hart
08 March 2002, 1914

Kate set her bag down beside a poolside chair. She could see Conrad gliding through the water as he swam a few laps. He approached the side of the pool before he hauled himself out poolside. Kate felt her gaze glancing down his lean, almost gaunt physique.

She took the scarring around his ear from the grenade explosion, but seeing him without a shirt allowed her to take in the sight of other scars. She saw what looked to be several long scarred over cuts just above Conrad's left hip and down past the hem of his shorts on the outside of his left thigh. She also noticed the semi-circle on his left arm, just above the elbow.

Conrad noticed her gaze and pointed to the semi-circle, "Bar fight in Avignon. One of our Legionnaires, an Algerian, had come home beaten and limping from several North African toughs. We went after them in force, dragging them from the bar, their flats, wherever and gave them a rather savage kicking. One of them stabbed me with a broken beer bottle before I punched him in the throat."

"You mentioned that," Kate replied.

"The second article of the Legionnaire Code of Honor specifically says, 'Each legionnaire is your brother in arms whatever his nationality, his race, or his religion might be. You show him the same close solidarity that links the members of the same family.'. From the start a Legionnaire's first loyalty is to other Legionnaires and by extension the Legion itself." Conrad replied, "And it was this ethos we followed when the young punks got the beating they deserved."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it." Kate replied.

"What other way is there?" Conrad questioned.

He didn't sound defensive that time. Maybe it's best to try and understand his view. Kate thought before she replied, "I can understand why a force of men formed from people the world rejected would need solidarity and that fight was a way you expressed it. I understand where you're coming from, although I don't necessarily agree with it."

"Again, I think it is best we agree to disagree here, mademoiselle," Conrad replied, without a hint of malice.

Kate took in the scarring around Conrad's left hip and thigh, as the ex-Legionnaire tapped each set of scars in turn, "Those are from a Cobra grenade, one of two that exploded near me in Africa. This is actually one big set of scars as opposed to two separate ones, obviously my swim trunks cover them."

If he removed said swim trunks I could see that, along with something else and...get your mind out of the gutter, Kate! She thought rapidly as she looked up as Conrad turned towards the poolside.

Kate's eyes once again noticed the tattoo on Conrad's upper right arm, the side profile of the skull wearing a Legionnaire's Kepi Blanc with a slight upward tilt with the Gothic script that read N.J.N.R.R.

I know that's not true, though you always say you regret nothing, I know you retain some regrets. Kate thought, remembering what the letters stood for.

Conrad, for his part, wasn't idle as far as looking was concerned. He immediately saw how Kate's lithe, athletic frame was sheathed in that electric blue one piece swimsuit. He forced his eyes upward to ensure he was looking her in the eye.

Kate fixed him with a smile, "I saw that, Hart…"

"I have to say that you really wear that swimsuit well," Conrad blurted.

Kate blushed, her smile widening, "Thank you."

"I hope that wasn't too...untoward," Conrad fumbled for words.

"Not at all," Kate replied feeling heat run through her body. Easy, Kate, it was just a compliment…

"I take it you were also in the mood for an evening swim?" Conrad asked.

Kate nodded as she took a small elastic band from around her left wrist, gathering her hair and putting into a simple ponytail. "After all we're going into the jungle tomorrow, I thought I'd enjoy the perks of the hotel. Namely the pool and maybe a drink at the poolside bar."

"No arguments there," Conrad replied. No question, Tim's quite a lucky man.

"So, up for a night swim?" Kate asked, with a smile.

"Last one in…" Conrad smirked and ran towards the pool's edge before plunging into the water. As the cool liquid enveloped him, he heard the splash to his left as Kate leapt into the water.

He kicked his legs before reaching the surface and pulling with his arms, and with a few long, powerful strokes he was on the other side of the pool, standing in the shallow end. Kate came up for air to his left a few seconds later.

"Hey!" Kate sputtered, "You didn't give me any warning of our little race."

"Mademoiselle, I argue I did so," the ex-Legionnaire grinned toothily.

"No, you didn't," Kate replied, "Race you to the deep end."

With that Kate took off swimming and Conrad went after her with both of them reaching the deep end at roughly the same time. While treading water Kate smiled at Conrad, "That was a fair warning."

"And I believe you won," Conrad grinned back, "Loser of the last race buys drinks?"

Kate smirked before playfully splashing him with water and taking off. Conrad swam after her. After a few more races across the pool Kate lost the last race, "Looks like I'm buying."

Kate hauled herself out of the water with Conrad not too far behind.

As he followed Kate to the poolside bar his eyes snapped downward as he saw part of the rose tattoo on Kate's bottom. He swiftly forced his eyes to look ahead, using every bit of Legion discipline. The last thing I need before a mission is sexual tension. Still, were she to invite me to her room I would find it rather hard to say no...

After Kate paid for their drinks, she and Conrad sat at the bar by the pool. As the bartender served them each a bottle of Cerveza Balboa, Kate smiled, "No cognac?"

"Beer works just as handily, mademoiselle," Conrad replied.

A brief silence passed and as Kate enjoyed a sip of her own drink. She recognized the Jimmy Buffett song, Sea of Heartbreak before she glanced to her left to see Conrad drumming his fingers to the beat of the song.

"One of Buffett's better songs," Conrad mused, "Though it tends to tug on the heartstrings."

"I think we've all been there," Kate said with a wry grin before changing the subject, "So what inspired you to get a skull with a kepis blanc as your tattoo?"

"The kepis blanc is obvious, as a member of the Legion it is our most iconic symbol. The skull? Well, a 15th Century German poem by Garnier von Susteren inspired it."

Kate shifted her hips, so the seat on her swiveling chair faced Conrad, "How does it go?"

"Behold the knight. In solemn black manner. With a skull on his crest and blood on his banner," Conrad replied.

TBC