CHAPTER 27

While the first part of the plan involved anyone that could be trusted and was not at the station, something they were in very short supply of, the second part depended entirely on who was left behind. It also had a lot to do with the reasons behind Kent choosing his wardrobe. Everyone else wanted to look ferocious and he decided that, for his part, it was best if he looked anything but. After that, it was a matter of sitting around with Bob, drinking coffee, and waiting for the call. It came soon enough and he left in his own vehicle, after anyone, of any consequence, had most likely long since turned their gaze elsewhere.

If anyone was still watching then Kent’s first stop would have certainly seemed harmless enough. He parked at a Foo King Junior and waited till Harvey Keitel arrived and park beside him. His daughter, Idhitri, got out of the back seat and then joined Kent in his car. She had a hand full of papers that she had just retrieved from her office. She was more concerned with Kent’s choice of attire, that mainly being his ratty looking cut off jeans and wrinkled T-shirt.

Idhitri asked, “you are not seriously wearing that, are you?”

“Miss Keitel,” Kent replied very politely, “where we are going, I judge that this is the safest thing that I can.”

“I certainly hope you are right, because, where we are going,” Idhitri said with a very concerned tone, “is not where we originally planned. Horst has moved up the execution. They are getting ready to do it now.”

Kent did not need the woman to draw him a map, “the airport then.”

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Monika felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck when she heard that voice. Sergeant Berg was not even near her little work station when he called out, “Private Frei! Front and center!” She had to look and actually find him. It was not surprising that he was over by the fence. She quickly stood up, shouldered her weapon, and strapped down her helmet as she ran to the man. She went to parade rest in front of him, “reporting as ordered Herr Feldwebel!”

“Follow me,” the man said in a disinterested tone. As Monika did so she relaxed a little. It was an ever constant cycle with this man. At first he would always scare the shit out of her and then it was usually because of some damn non sense that meant nothing. That seemed to be the case this time, until, they entered the gate of the detention zone.

The prisoners gave the two German’s a wide and very panicked berth as they marched into the crowd. These colonists began clumping in groups as if they could protect or cover each other. Their actions worked to a degree because Berg had to stop and yell out a single name, “Katherine Jones!”

Berg’s plan worked too. It was not because the woman voluntarily stepped out of any crowd. She nearly had a nervous brake down and fell to her knee’s, in tears. No one around would help her and, in fact, they fled from her like she was some kind of disease. Monika recognized the woman. She was the one. She was the very one that had caused her to notice the bad count. The only question in Monika’s mind was, how did Berg know that Monika was connected to it and, even to this woman? She had never told anyone! What had happened?

Monika did her best to hold her thoughts inside. It did not seem to work. Berg had a smile on his face as he pointed out the crying colonist and then told Monika, “you speak English, take her.”

Monika knew she made a mistake. Her head snapped around and she looked at the sergeant in shock. Berg returned the favor by slapping her across the face, with the back of his hand. Monika went stiff and then back to parade rest. She held in her emotions, the stinging pain, and her thoughts, which was, mainly the fact that Berg spoke even better English than she did! The only reason that he would have need of her language skills was as an excuse! This was going from bad to worse.

A smile broke on the sergeants lips and then he snapped, “what are you waiting on private.”

Monika snapped into action and grabbed the woman who resisted as she pleaded and sobbed. As Monika pushed her to the ground, put a knee in her back before tying her wrists with plastic cuffs. It was then that Monika discovered there was another reason for Berg’s interest in her use of English. Monika understood every single word the woman said. She understood the woman talking about her three children, about her parents, her bills, her ratty car, and a host of other issues that were the kinds of things that Monika, as well as anyone else, would know all about. This woman was no longer the enemy. She was no longer a terrorist. She was a human being and Monika fully understood what she was about to do to her. Berg could see it and he smiled even more.

They escorted the blindfolded woman and it took both soldiers to drag her from the compound. Berg guided them to a canvas screen that had a bench set up on the other side. There were ten prisoners sitting on that bench, five men and five women. They were all blindfolded and had their hands tied behind their backs. They were also heavily guarded and Monika could figure out why. The presence of the battalion Chaplin only confirmed that this was the first group.

Berg picked one woman from the bench and then ordered another trooper, “take this one back.” He then sat Katherine Jones down on the bench to take her place. The woman had yet to stop sobbing. Even if she could not see, she knew what was happening around her. It tore at Monika’s insides. She could almost feel herself sitting on that bench.

The only ray of light came when Lieutenant Gerhardt came stomping over to Berg and asked him what his business was. Berg gave the most lame excuse that Monika had ever heard. The officer did not want to take it and then Berg got in his face and told the younger man, point blank, “do you really want to fuck with me Gerhardt? This is my business now go take care of your own.”

All the young Lieutenant could say was, “yes sergeant!” He stomped quickly off. He had been very nervous before. Now he was just plain terrified. As near as Monika could tell, even the coolest of troopers here were visibly nervous. Did anyone really want to do this? Why were they? It made absolutely no sense to her! Then Monika’s thoughts drifted from that and back to self preservation as Berg pulled her away from the prisoners. They were well out of sight of them and standing near a line of troopers that were, also, being deliberately kept from seeing the condemned. Monika knew what this file of troopers were for. They had drawn lots and the losers got to stand in that line.

Now she discovered that she would too. Berg made sure they were not close enough for the detail to hear him say, “I know it was you.”

Monika kept her eyes locked straight ahead as she replied, “permission to speak?” When he nodded she said, “I don’t know what the sergeant means.”

She expected another back hand but, it never came. Instead, Berg told her, “don’t play stupid with me girl. I know you were the one who screwed up my count.”

Monika gulped and replied in fear, “I was only doing…”

“You have no fucking idea what you were doing little girl,” Berg told her. “You don’t have a clue what is really going on and you still feel the need to stick your goddamn nose in other peoples business. This isn’t the first damn time ether. Well I am going to show you what the consequences of that are.” He pointed to the detail, “fifth position in line. I saved the spot just for you.”

Berg turned and began walking away as if he had no need to see if his orders were obeyed. Monika supposed that he really did not. She had no choice now. If he had gone this far then she was sure he made certain that her name was officially on the list for the firing squad. Monika knew what refusal meant.

That did not mean she lacked a card to play. It would not prevent her fate but, at the moment, she did not care. She just wanted to stick a knife in Berg, so hard, that he would feel it for a long time to come. Since that wasn’t an option she said two words of English instead, “Valley Point.”

It got Berg’s attention. He stopped walking away and stood there, silently, for a moment. Then he looked back at the girl and said, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“I speak English,” Monika told him, “that’s why you picked me, remember? I was standing at the door, the day you rented that hangar.”

Berg only sneered and then commanded, “get in line.” He walked off with an angry demeanor and, for a moment at least, Monika felt some measure of control and satisfaction. Then she fell in formation and waited. It was not a very long wait.

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“Well,” Kent said as his car slowly rolled up to the heavily fortified back gate of Riggins Field, “they are most certainly jumpy today.”

Idhitri gulped as she looked at the virtual arsenal of weapons that were pointed right at her. She then commented, “they’re not the only ones Mister Gold.”

“I do apologize Miss Keitel,” Kent told her. “I do wish we had time to be nervous but,” he pointed out across the field and to a line of German grenadiers who were marching in a single filed line, “I do believe time is very short.” Kent then looked down at his attire, “speaking of shorts, we now see if my choice of camouflage is appropriate for this environment.” He got out of the car with his hands raised.

The Germans did not care to leave their sandbags or armored vehicles. One of them called out on a bullhorn in passable English, “the airport is closed. You will turn around and leave at once or we will fire on you. This area is posted off limits.”

Kent called back out, “I’m afraid I can’t. I am an Agent of the Colonial Government and,” he gestured to himself, “as you can readily see, I am unarmed.” He then nodded to Idhitri and introduced her before noting, “she is with the United Nations.”

The last part was apparently enough to get their attention. It also got a Captain to the gate who made it very clear, “UN or not, you cannot be here. This is dangerous. You know what is going on right now.”

Idhitri tried to remain calm but, her fury seemed to work better, “I have information that you need to get up your chain of command, immediately. Before your colonel makes a mistake that will cost Germany, very dearly.”

The German was confused, “what are you talking about?”

Kent only smiled and, while his hands were still in the air, he gestured to his vehicle, “well, this is actually rather embarrassing Herr Hauptman. You see, I have a bomb in the back of my car.”

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Gephardt appeared and it was obvious he was doing his best to sound authoritative and proper. He was doing a horrible job of it. If the circumstances had been different, Monika might have even found it comical. Gephardt might have been an officer but, when she really looked at him, all he really was, was a boy not much older than her. He was lanky and awkward and the only thing about him that spelled out authority was that uniform.

Despite this, and Monika wondered why, the detail followed Gephardt’s instructions to the letter. They did so with a precision that they did not use everyday and, at least, Monika came to understand the why of that. She would have liked to think that her military bearing was paying respect to those who were about to die. The sorry truth of the matter was a lot more simple. It kept her from thinking about what she was about to do.

When the firing line halted, Monika found herself looking at the back of the head of the man in front of her. She could not let her eyes drift in any other direction. Even so, she could see the blurry image of what was off to her right. She felt it more than she saw. She could also hear their cries, their sobbing, their pleading. There was nothing that could block that out.

Then came the command, “right face!”

Monika snapped right and slammed the heel of her boot on the concrete in unison with the rest of the squad. Now she was looking at Katherine Jones. The woman’s shrieks were cutting into Monika’s very soul.

Gephardt commanded, “present arms!”

Monika raised her weapon across her chest. What if she didn’t do it? That was an insane question. If it had just been her life then Monika realized she might very well throw her weapon down. That was not how the Wehrmacht played the game. If someone refused then the entire squad drew lots, again, and this time the looser took the place of the prisoner. If any of them refused it was almost certain to be another who paid the price. Monika might be willing to sacrifice her own life but, not one of her friends.

“Charge weapons,” the Lieutenant’s voice cracked when he gave the command.

Monika almost could not release the safety catch on her battle rifle. Her hands were shaking too violently. Her leg was twitching as well. When the order to, “take aim” was called out, a tear rolled down her cheek as she lined up the sights on the chest of one Katherine Jones. A woman that had probably woke up this morning, thinking it would be a day like any other, not knowing that it would be her last. She did not even have a clue that there was another young girl, named Monika Frei, who was carrying around the bullet that would end her life.

______________________________

The chopper did not come from the base. It was flying back from the city and, upon consideration, Kent figured it explained why Horst was arriving in it. Why would he need a chopper inside his own base? It was Horst who was getting out as well. Kent recognized the swagger even if the man was loaded down with field gear.

As Kent watched the man and his staff approach, he politely asked the Captain standing at the gate with him, “may I please put my hands down?”

“No,” the Captain quickly replied.

When Horst arrived he did not bother with Idhitri or Kent. He asked his Captain for a report. The man quickly saluted and then explained, “they have a case of ordinance from our stores, sir. They have documents of our inventory from the IFOR offices in town.”

Horst only glanced at the records and then addressed Kent, “and this is supposed to impress me? Why are you wasting my time?”

Kent lowered his hands and told the Captain as he did, “shoot me if you feel like it. I have to reach in my pocket.” He then tossed Horst his phone and it already had another set of documents laid out on the screen. Kent told Horst, “Herr Oberst, I believe, if you carefully examine these documents, you will find that your man Brenner was stealing weapons from your own inventory, and then selling to that man, Helmut Kohler. He worked for a local company and, like most of you Germans, kept meticulous records. We traced the ordinance in my trunk, to him and Brunner.” Kent then nodded to Idhitri, “with the assistance of the United Nations, who also happen to keep meticulous records.”

Horst walked around to the open trunk, where several of his men were nervously standing guard. He looked at the open case and it’s contents. Then he walked back to his visitors. After thinking about it a moment he said, “I would still prefer to question the terrorists, before I can ascertain the validity of your claims.” Horst pointed at Kent with his riding crop and asked, “where are they?”

Kent crossed his arms and replied, “they’re being turned over to the Governor’s office as we speak, colonel. We detained them for questioning, in protective custody, earlier today.”

Horst was unimpressed, “do you take me for a fool, Gold? We have been closely watching you all day. There is no way you could have rounded up over twenty suspects.”

“Yet we did Colonel,” Kent replied, “and your people are free to question them. If there are to be any criminal charges filed, it will be in a Colonial court of law. If there were any violations of UN treaty, then it will be the UN who handles the matter. You do fall under their jurisdiction I believe.”

Idhitri was tired to fencing with the man. The little woman blew up, “enough of this! You can’t possibly even consider shooting those people now! They had nothing to do with this. The colony had nothing to do with this. You have the proof right in front you! Now what is it going to be colonel?”

Horst developed an air of pleasantness and told the fiery little woman, using all of his grace and charm, “why Miss Keitel, the only thing I can under the circumstances.”

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The sight would not remain on target. Monika’s hands simply would not stop shaking. The target, Katherine Jones, was blurring as well. It was due to the tears rolling out of Monika’s eyes. She waited with horrific anticipation of that final command to pull the trigger. She listened to her victim scream about her children. She saw Katherine’s knees give out. Her body went limp and only the ropes that held her to the pole were supporting her weight.

“Detail!” came the next command. Monika almost jerked the trigger until she realized that it was not the command to fire. Gephardt then commanded, “sling arms!” When Monika and the rest of the squad snapped to the left, too march away from the still living prisoners, she heard the Lieutenant say something very un-military like. A sigh of relief escaped his lips with the words, “thank god.”

On the command, “forward march,” the firing squad stepped off and began leaving the firing posts behind them. Monika had to step over the trooper who passed out after only three steps.