Chapter Text
Chief didn’t like being around regular soldiers, not really. The officers looked down their noses at him from ranks and positions, and rank and file sneered at him, just happy to be one dozen steps above a Red Indian criminal. Even commandos looked at him funny, distrusting him for any number of imagined reasons.
It was his first time to be treated with something alot like neutral respect by anyone other than Garrison. Even the Warden had his hang-ups.
Eyeing the newcomer, he cataloged the likely responses. Blond, blue eyes, with a face that could get all of the girls at the Dove’s, he looked like a college-kid who’d gotten on the wrong bus…if not for the tangible air of danger lurking just beneath his skin.
He’ come earlier that morning with an Enlishman who’d set Chief’s teeth on edge. It probably wouldn’t take long for the man to start making an ass of himself by throwing his authority around the Mansion and no one was looking forward to it. When the Warden and the Englishmen were locking in a conference, Chief was watching the newcomer.
“It’s a nice knife.” The corporal finally offered, blue eyes slitting open to focus on Chief where he was perched on the window seat. “Switchhblade?”
Eyes narrowed, Chief nodded.
“I’ve got this,” the blond moved gracefully, and lethally. Across the room, sitting out of the way to pretend he wasn’t paying attention, Actor eyed him appreciatively. PLucking a knife from his boot, he passed it over for Chief’s inspection.
It was beautiful, nothing like Army-issue, and clearly well-cared for. At Chief’s curious eyes, continued. “Damascus steel. Someone owed me a bit of a favor a while ago.” It did look Arabic, but Chief didn’t know much about them to say. “Light too.”
“Got a spare?”
The blond laughed, bright white teeth flashing in the dim room. “My partner collected the other one.” Chief could almost like thim.
“Know how to throw it?” Again the blond graced with him a smile that Chief wanted to hate.
They were a few rounds into putting new dents in the dart board when Actor ambled over. Casino had made himself scarce, and Goniff had taken one look at the American before running off. Only Actor had the guts to stay.
“Well done,” he congratulated the pair, eying the knifepoints buried into the cork. “Corporal, your giving Chief a run for his money.”
“Oh, I don’t bet with money on these things,” Hitch shrugged, digging the knives out.
“What happened?” Actor wondered.
“Lost a bet,” a private, coy smile crossed the pretty face. Chief wondered what sort of bet. “Sarge wasn’t too pleased to pick me up after.”
“A bet?” Actor wondered, visibly intrigued and probably a little closer than Chief would suspect from polite curiosity. It had been a shock for Chief to adjust to such open sexuality, because once Garrison had indicated he hadn’t given a rats ass the flood gates had opened. The Italian liked his women beautiful and charming, and his men beautiful and clever. Chief’s best way of figuring out if the man was irritable with him was if he’d gone a week without flirting or propositioning him. As a commando and thief he was too professional to let feelings get in the way of his work, but there were still tells.
Corporal Hitchcock was a steak dinner at the Savoy, dolled up in his neatly ironed uniform, wit, and clear intelligence; and give half a chance, Actor would swallow him in a moment.
“A bet,” the Englishman stated, appearing at the door. “We’ll not repeat.”
“Sure thing,” blue eyes twinkled as he stepped away from Actor. “Say, are we ready?”
“Sure. Actor, round up the others. We’ll take this in the war-room.” Actor obeyed, and Garrison slid curious eyes to Chief. It was unusual fro him to talk to the newcomers all that often, and when Chief gave a nod of approval Warden accepted his response. “Jack, how do you take your coffee?”
“Is there tea?” the Englishman asked curiously, a resigned expression on his face.
“If you make it.” Garrison warned.
“Tully’s not here,” Hitch reminded him.
“It took me a year to teach him how to make decent tea,” the man despaired as they entered the war-room. “An entire year.”
“Do you make coffee?” Chief asked, earning a sharp look from the Warden.
“Of course, you do not serve with Americans without learning how to brew coffee. Tully prefers it straight black, which is a blessed relief.” Chief stared, faintly shocked. His next question was interrupted by the grousing, noisy arrival of Casino and Goniff.
“If it’s glory you’re after, Casino was saying, arms gesturing wildly. “Then you should go without me! I wouldn't want to hog all of it!”
“Relax, Casino. There is plenty glory to go around.” Actor assured him, ushering them into the war room. “Take a seat.”
“Who’s pretty?” the safecracker asked with his usual tact, jerking a thumb at Hitchcock. The blond eyebrows rose faintly.
“Hitch,” the soldier in question answered.
“Casino, that’s Goniff. Say, Warden, are you about to get us killed?”
“Pipe down,” Warden ordered. “Moffitt?”
“Lights?”
After the lights were dimmed, the first slide appeared. A woman in a German officers uniform, smiling at the viewer, almost pleasant to look at if you ignored her loyalties. Casino wolf-whistled, and Goniff frowned. Actor leaned forward, intrigued.
“What is she?” The thief asked.
“This is Major Hannelore Dietrich. Once a very promising young officer with the invasion of France.” The next photo showed the young woman with young men, covered in mud and wearing ruined uniforms in a destroyed French outpost. “A very dangerous officer in North Africa.” This time her uniform was the familiar Afrika Korp, and she was standing guard over a dozen captured officers. “A protege of the late Field Marshal Rommel.” Only Garrison hadn’t seemed surprised by any of thief, and since he’d been in North Africa, Chief wondered if he’d met her. “She’s popular with the men and even her enemies.”
“So, are we going to bump her off?” Casino wondered.
“No,” Moffitt tilted his head to the side. “We are going to capture her.”
“This feels more like a kidnapping,” Goniff muttered.
“Major Dietrich is popular, and dangerously so. Her current command can’t have her killed without upsetting a great number of people. For our sake, we’d like her captured. Currently, she is recovering from her wounds at this Chateau.” the photo vanished for one of a beautiful French house. “Currently also the headquarters for General von Hohenheim. She’s set there to recover, and she’s currently dealing with a broken ankle, and we’re not sure how long the blindness might be affecting her.”
“Sounds like we’re stealing a broken doll.” Casino muttered.
“Don’t underestimate her,” Hitchcock spoke up. “That’s the fastest way to end up dead.”
“Hitch is quite right. Our dear major speaks four and half languages. She understands English, both literature and mind, as well as Americans. She is both cunning and ruthless. Assuming she is harmless will result in crossing the river Styx to join the rest of the fools who have done the same.” Chief had no idea what he was talking about. “We need to get her out and to Londontown.”
Actor finally spoke, his eyes had been focused on the projector, and they now switched to Moffitt. “She will not talk.” Tilting his head to the side, the Englishman blinked a few times. “I have seen officers like her before,” he continued. “She will not talk, and I doubt she will let herself be used in your propaganda films.”
Blinking, he nodded. “And her capture will devastated her mens morale.”
“She means that much to them?”
“She means a great deal.” He said. “Now, you won’t be alone and I’m afraid I won’t be much help. She knows my style and our usual tricks, which is why we’re here with Garrison. Your unusual tactics will likely blindside our target, and there is very little she hasn’t seen.”
“So Warden can’t dress up like an officers and pretend he’s there for orders and meet up with her on the sly? Pop her in the back of a trunk, and we’re off!”
“That is certainly one way to do it.” Mofffit agreed slowly, and patiently. “And it’s something to consider.”
“We’ll be meeting with local resistance officers.” Garrison told them. “Someone who works in the general house. An aide.”
“And myself as well.” Moffitt nodded, “and a few friends will help.”
Chief nodded, and wondered what the hell he’d gotten into.