The colonel stroked his oiled mustache as he listened to Auguste’s story.
“Save the French soldier, kill a few replaceable German soldiers and win your spot back in the French Army, huh?” He quirked a dark brow while looking Auguste over.
Auguste nodded and took a hefty swig from his mug of wine.
“Brilliant!” The colonel shouted as he laughed and threw him arms in the air. “You really were the best weapon to ever come out of Germany! That was a brilliant plan and it is too bad you got caught. A bit disappointing actually, but I suppose I can overlook that. I currently have a new use for you. A more important one, so I’m glad you’re back. Bathe, dress and I will meet you at the officer’s tent in an hour. I will fill you in on our strategy and get you prepared for our next move.”
Auguste stood up and nodded as he reached out and shook the colonel’s hand. Being back in his mentor’s presence sent conflicting feelings bouncing back and forth inside him. For all intents and purposes this man had been the closest thing he’d had to a father until he met Henri. In their time together he’d been treated well and had wanted nothing more than to make him proud. The drilled desire to impress the colonel rose back up inside him. He didn’t know whether it was loyalty to the man who’d saved him or just the years of brainwashing he had endured in the Army. Then his thoughts moved to Jean-Luc who was a brother to him and needed his loyalty now.
After the colonel exited the room, he pulled his shirt off, the bloody cuts along his muscular back from the barbed wire had dried to it, causing him to flinch as he tugged it free. Tossing the shirt in a heap on the floor, he slid his ripped and muddied trousers off, kicking them to land on top of his shirt. Auguste walked to the wooden tub and slid into the warm water. He cringed as it hit dozens of other cuts from his battle with the Germans on the journey here. Some were deep enough they would soon be permanent additions to his already battle-scarred body.
Looking down, he traced his fingers around the large scar on his abdomen. He had received that in a knife fight protecting Jean-Luc two years back. Isabelle had traced her fingers around it but she had never made mention of the scars he carried with him. Perhaps, deep down she didn’t want to know how he had gotten them. Isabelle. He cupped the water in his hands and poured it over his head.
After a long soak in the tub, Auguste stood up and stepped out into the warm late-afternoon air. He grabbed the burlap sack near the tub and dried himself off, careful not to let the rough fabric tear apart his fresh cuts. When he was dry, he walked over to the German uniform laid out for him. His mind was filled with confusion as he held the fabric between his fingers.
This used to be his uniform, and he had worn it proudly. In his wildest dreams, he never would have thought that putting it on now would give him such anxiety. But upon joining the French, he had become one of them. Now he wanted this life. A life in France. A life as Auguste Pettit, brother to Jean-Luc Pettit, living a quiet life on a farm with Isabelle, watching her race around on one of the many horses he would be sure she had.
Auguste’s mind reeled as he slid on the green uniform. He picked up the familiar wool cap and traced his fingers around the red emblem just like he used to when he lived in Germany. After straightening his jacket, he slid the hat on his head. The feelings of unease overwhelmed him as he stepped out the door into the German camp... as a German soldier.
“Lieutenant Klaus, please follow me.” A young soldier saluted him and led him toward a tent off to the edge of the camp.
Pulling back the flap, he saw several officers sitting around the table, the one he called the dark soldier was there as well.
“Klaus! Sit, sit. There is much to discuss and no time to discuss it. This is Officer Schmidt, Officer Klein, and Officer Huber.” He gestured to each soldier as he rattled off names.
Officer Huber. That was the name of the dark one. Auguste felt his glare penetrating him. He looked up and met his dark eyes.
“And this is Lieutenant Klaus. He is your senior officer and you will pay him your respects.”
Officer Huber glared as the smug smile passed Auguste’s lips. He couldn’t help staring at the man with a shiver of enthusiasm since Officer Huber now reported to him.
“Gentleman. It is no secret that we are in our final days of this war. France has received help from Allies around the world and they have crushed us on the Western Front. Without a bold maneuver, it is safe to say the war will be lost and we will be sent home, pathetic tails between our legs. We have come up with a plan, however. Hordes of our soldiers have snuck down the Western Front and more are on their way as we speak. With our other soldiers in France, they will join us when we attack Reims in three days’ time. Our duel attack will divide and conquer the French troops. Extra troops are heading to Reims right now through here, here, and here.” He poked the map laid out between them.
Struggling to keep his eyes from giving away his horror, he swallowed when he saw the place the colonel’s finger still rested. Isabelle was there. The path for some of the soldiers to Reims went between Paris and Chantilly... directly through the city where her aunt lived. This couldn’t be happening. She was a sitting duck and the German soldiers would show her no kindness should they find her. From what he knew of soldiers, they would decimate the city while they passed through, grabbing supplies, weapons, and pleasures when they found them. A wave of nausea crept through him, thoughts of what would happen to Isabelle reeling through his mind. He gripped the bottom of his chair to prevent himself from standing up and racing from the table.
“Lieutenant Klaus. I would like for you to lead this motley bunch of ragtag soldiers into battle. I trust that you have maintained the skills we taught you?”
Auguste could only nod.
“Good. Then you are just what I need to pull this group together. You leave for Reims tomorrow morning. Twenty-three divisions are moving into place, and I will have a total of about five hundred additional men for you to command that are grouping around the trenches as we speak. You are to cut through the countryside and join up with the other soldiers. The attack on Reims begins in four days, on 15 July at 12:10. You are to head there straight away and get your men prepared for the battle.”
“Yes, Sir.” Auguste’s mouth was so dry he could barely form the words. He had to get out of here. He had to save her.
“Boys, start packing the camp up. You move out tomorrow.”
Colonel Schumacher pushed away from the table and rose to his feet. He placed his hand on Auguste’s stiff shoulder. “I’m counting on you. Don’t let me down, son.”
“Sir, yes Sir,” was all he could say.
Auguste walked out into the light in a daze. He needed to release Jean-Luc and get out of here. From what he could calculate from the maps, the soldiers would be moving through her aunt’s as early as tomorrow night. He needed a plan to save both Jean-Luc and Isabelle, and he needed one right now.
“Sir, what of the prisoner?” he heard Officer Huber ask as he followed Auguste out into the camp.
“Dispose of him. We have no room for prisoners where we are going.”
The words bounced around in his head and made him feel like it might explode. They intended to kill Jean-Luc, and they intended to do it soon. He could almost hear the ticking of the clock counting down the minutes until he needed to implement a plan he didn’t have. The weight of his need to protect both Isabelle and Jean-Luc bore down on his shoulders and he struggled to keep his mind from spinning out.
Looking around the camp for solutions, he noted that while there were weapons everywhere for the taking, there was no way he could get past the guards without them raising the alarm. In seconds, a hundred soldiers would be upon him before he could even get the gate open and both he and Jean-Luc would be dead before they made it a few yards.
“Sir, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to have a celebration with him to get the soldiers in the spirit for tomorrow,” Officer Huber said to the colonel.
“Do w
hat you like with him, Officer Huber. Just get it done before tomorrow,” Colonel Schumacher said, then he stalked away toward his temporary tent.
When he saw the depraved gleam in Officer Huber’s eyes he knew his plans for Jean-Luc involved unimaginable pain and torture. It felt like the walls were collapsing around him and he felt helpless to stop it. Part of him wanted to run for Isabelle now, he could probably sneak away. The other part of him couldn’t leave his brother to die here alone. He had to find a way to save them both.
CHAPTER THIRTY
NIGHTFALL CAME QUICKLY. The men laughed and cheered, drinking wine as they prepared for their battle departure tomorrow. Auguste sat on the outskirts, his eye on Jean-Luc at all times, waiting for the right moment, for any opportunity. Jean-Luc’s glare remained fixed on him all evening. Without question, seeing him sitting in a German uniform with the men who held him prisoner secured his friend’s thoughts about his betrayal and resulting loyalties. As much as it pained him to know Jean-Luc’s hatred grew, he didn’t have time to worry about those feelings right now. Right now Auguste’s only worry was saving his life.
“Who’s ready for some entertainment?” The voice of Officer Huber startled him out of his thoughts. The soldiers all cheered and Auguste glanced over to see Jean-Luc look with fear-filled eyes out at the rabid soldiers, their predatory gazes moving to him.
“Bring me the prisoner!” Officer Huber yelled, toasting his wine in the air.
When the crowd moved in front of Auguste, he pushed his way to the front to see them leading Jean-Luc bound by the wrists to the center of the cheering soldiers.
“Well, men, what do you say we see how many times we can hang him before he dies?” Officer Huber shouted.
When the soldiers cheered in approval, Auguste’s heart plummeted to his feet. There were too many of them. As precious seconds ticked away, he couldn’t see a way to free his friend without condemning them both to death. Jean-Luc looked right at him as the whites of his eyes showed in the firelight. Trying not to break free and run to his friend’s side, he froze when he felt a large presence step up next to him.
“The little things to keep the little minds entertained. Right, Klaus?” Colonel Schumacher said.
“Yes. The little things, Colonel, Sir.” Auguste faked a smile.
“Well, let’s get up there and get a closer look, shall we?” Slinging his arm over Auguste’s shoulder, the two pushed to the front of the circle that had now formed around the hanging tree. He watched in helpless horror as they led Jean-Luc to the tree. Holding his head high, he remained stoic while they slipped the noose around his neck. His eyes stared forward, ignoring the soldiers chanting, “Hang! Hang! Hang!” until a slow turn of his head brought his gaze to Auguste. When they locked eyes, the sadness and betrayal behind Jean-Luc’s almost took him to his knees. Jean-Luc didn’t need words to say, “How could you?” because his face said it all.
Officer Huber took a hold of the end of the rope and slowly pulled it around the trunk of the tree until he felt the resistance of Jean-Luc’s neck. With eyes widened, Jean-Luc lifted off the ground to the sound of cheers and Officer Huber’s sadistic laugh. Auguste’s blood coursed with rage through his body and he knew it was now or never, but his mind kept drawing a blank while he watched his brother inching farther off the ground.
The flickering of the fire showed the flash of a large battle knife dangling from the colonel’s belt. One more glance at Jean-Luc’s terror-filled eyes, and without hesitation Auguste slid the knife from the unsuspecting colonel’s belt. With lightning speed he stood behind him, hands grasping the colonel’s neck, yanking it up and exposing it to the knife now pressed tightly to his throat.
“RELEASE HIM!” Auguste shouted, the power in his voice ripping through the crowd, causing the cheering soldiers to stop. One by one, all eyes turned to him. There he stood, his hold on the colonel tight and the knife at his throat pressing into his skin, scraping along his Adam’s apple when he swallowed.
“What the hell, Klaus?” Colonel Schumacher snarled, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “I told you, I don’t want you to go back to the French army. That plan is no longer important. Let me go. You don’t need to win back his trust. Release me. Now.”
But Auguste ignored him, focusing his glare on the man holding the rope. Officer Huber looked up, his grasp on the rope tight as Jean-Luc dangled in the air. His eyes narrowed when he saw Auguste holding a knife to the colonel.
“I SAID RELEASE HIM!” Auguste’s voice boomed through the crowd again. He could see Jean-Luc’s wide eyes looking toward him.
“Klaus. What are you doing? I said...”
“I know what you said. Now tell Officer Huber to release him. Now.”
Snarling, Officer Huber held fast to his rope. Jean-Luc struggled harder, his face turning purple while he kicked his legs and swung in the air. Auguste held Officer Huber’s eyes while he pressed the knife deeper into the colonel’s throat and a drop of blood dripped from the tearing skin.
“Do it! Release the boy! He’ll cut my head off, damn it!” he yowled, waving to Officer Huber to stand down. He knew the depth of Auguste’s skill and training and even a man as powerful as Colonel Schumacher wouldn’t stand a chance at escaping his tight grasp.
Officer Huber released the rope and Jean-Luc collapsed to the ground in a heap. Auguste watched, holding his breath, waiting for signs of life. When he heard air entering his lungs with a sharp gasp, he released his own breath. Jean-Luc rolled on the ground, choking as he slipped the noose from his neck.
“You will pay for this, Klaus. With your life,” the colonel growled at him through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry, Colonel Schumacher. He is my friend and I will not watch him die. If I don’t have to, I won’t kill you. But you are getting the three of us out of here. Alive. Do you understand?”
Only silence answered him, and he could feel the anger vibrating from the large man he held fast in his hands.
“You know better than anyone there is nothing you can do to escape me. I could slit your throat before you could even move to get away.”
The anger snapped and burned off the colonel like fire. Stepping forward, he pushed the colonel with him toward Jean-Luc on the ground.
“Nobody move or come near us or the colonel is dead! Do you hear me? Tell them, Colonel Schumacher! Tell them that if they follow us, if I so much as hear a twig snap, I will slit your throat!” he shouted, the horrified faces of the paralyzed soldiers staring at them when they reached Jean-Luc.
Auguste felt the colonel’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Do as he says. Nobody move. Nobody follow us. That is an order,” Colonel Schumacher commanded as his soldiers stood frozen.
“Jean-Luc. Can you walk? Can you get up? We have to go. Now.”
Jean-Luc looked up at him, his face red but for the first time he looked at Auguste the way he used to... like a brother. The extreme risk was worth it just to see that look return to his eyes. Nodding, he coughed some more and rose to his feet, rubbing his chaffed neck.
“Let’s go,” Auguste said, pushing the colonel forward toward the surrounding woods.
“Grab those guns.” Auguste gestured Jean-Luc to the two five-shot rifles propped against the nearby tree.
Jean-Luc scurried over and picked up the guns, walking backward to join Auguste and the colonel as they approached the woods, the eyes of a hundred soldiers boring through them.
“No one is to follow us. I will kill him. Understood?” The stunned soldiers stood motionless as they disappeared into the darkness.
“Grab his gun,” Auguste said, pointing to the custom engraved pistol he’d come to know over the years as the colonel’s favorite gun. It had been given to him the day he had been made colonel. Auguste remembered seeing him clean it many nights while they sat and talked over a beer.
“Klaus, think about what you are doing. It’s not too late to turn back. Take me back and I’ll forget this whole thing. Clearly you are suffer
ing from confusion due to your ordeal. I can forgive you but only if we turn back now.”
Closing his eyes, he pushed on. There was no turning back. To turn back ensured the death of Jean-Luc, and most likely him. Not to mention Isabelle, who was a sitting target since the soldiers would likely pass through her aunt’s town with the darkness the following night. If they were smart, they would avoid the towns. If they were desperate, hunger and madness would drive them straight into civilization. At this point in the war he was certain they were desperate. He had twenty-four hours to get her out of there.
The three men made their way through the woods, the starless night making it nearly impossible to see. Auguste retraced their steps, paying attention to the landmarks as best as he could make out in the blinding darkness. The men walked for a good two hours in silence, stopping periodically to listen and see if someone had followed them. The clouds parted in the sky, the large full moon peering out from behind, illuminating their path.
Auguste took the opportunity to scan his surroundings. He saw the broken tree leaning precariously over the little sapling beneath it. He knew where they were. If Beau had stayed in the area, he would be nearby. Auguste brought them all to a halt and whistled his signature whistle, listening carefully for sounds in the distance. He whistled again. Nothing. Auguste wondered if Beau had given up and headed home or perhaps worse, someone had taken him. He pushed them forward, pausing to whistle occasionally and listening for his faithful horse.
A War Within (Epic WWI Love Story) Page 23