Angels Fallen (4 page)

Understanding
Goot’s sentiment— having recently lost his own parents—Dieter nodded. “It would be an honor, Mr. Goot.”

Dieter directed his attention back to the boys
—the bread now long gone. “All right, break time is over men. We have many kilometers to go and little time to achieve them but before we do, I want you to welcome a new man to our outfit, Mr. Peter Goot,” Dieter pointed over to Goot. “He is going to join us on our little journey.”

A chorus of cheers greeted Goot as he was welcomed into the fold.

Goot lay beside Dieter in waist-high wheat
, positioned just above the main road into Weimar. The boys were several meters back, their uniforms dirty and ripped from their ten-day march through forest and backcountry hiking trail
s
—
sleeping where and when they could. All were bone tired and hungr
y
—
their rations having run out two days before.

“Are they German or American troops, Captain Dieter?”
Goot said in a hushed tone, watching as two jeeps drove slowly past the group’s concealed position, four soldiers to a jeep, their 50 caliber machine guns pointed straight ahead. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air as the first jeep passed.

“Looks to be an American reconnaissance patrol,” Dieter replied.

“Captain,” Goot exclaimed, starting to rise. “Let’s surrender to them now and get this war over with.”

Dieter grabbed him
roughly by his shirt collar and yanked him back down to the ground. “I need to see if a friend of mine is still located in town,” he said calmly, still eying the soldiers. “Then and only then can we surrender.”

Goot thought Dieter had gone
utterly mad. “Is the information you seek worth possibly dying for?”

He t
urned slowly to face Goot, a smile clearly evident upon his face, nodding. “However bizarre it sounds, it most definitely is my frien
d
—
most definitely
.”

IN HIS TEENAGED
years Dieter would sneak into town from his parent’s farm for some innocent mischief. Now he retraced the same medieval cobbled stone alleyways where 10 years earlier he had avoided the local constable when he stole a case of wine from a delivery wagon.  Times had certainly changed. The town was totally shuttered, seemingly devoid of troops, either German or American. Behind him, the motley army he had assembled followed as he weaved his way through town, creeping up to the back-ally exit of the Black Cat Club. Numerous cases of empty beer and wine bottles were stacked high.

Dieter cautiously entered the Black Cat Club, allowing his eyes to adjust to the
partial darkness. Goot and the boys followed.  They kept their weapons drawn, never sure who would be in residence, even at this early hour.  Seeing the immediate area clear, Dieter breathed a sigh of relief.
He was almost free
. 

As they moved forward toward the dimly lit bar area
, they were unfortunate enough to encounter the club manager, Lisa Chevier, coming down the back stairwell.

Still a head turner, Lisa w
as a slightly overweight, fortyish, expatriate from Paris whose tight pink silk nightgown strained to conceal her ample breasts.

“We are closed for t
he day gentlemen.  Come back in two or three hours,” Lisa said politely in her most seductive French accented voice, having had many years of practice.

Dieter removed his leather officer’s cap to afford her a better view. “Lisa, it’s m
e, Hans Dieter.  Remember? I’m Inga’s friend—the officer that took up residence here during my leave many months ago.  I’m the soldier with a farm just outside of town.”

The boys worked their way in behind Dieter to get a better look at the sexily clad Lisa, eyes bulging.

Standing on the steps, Lisa paused to gather her thoughts for a moment before slamming her hand down hard on the wooden railing, pointing at him with some recollection.

Running down the few remaining steps, Lisa embraced him before suddenly pushing him away.
She now held him at arms’ length, the stench of ten days sleeping by the side of the road a bit overwhelming for her.

“Oh
my goodness, why of course, Captain Dieter,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t recognize you in your unkempt uniform.  We all thought you were dead or missing like so many unfortunate others.  But what are you doing here? Weren’t you fighting the Russians on the Eastern Front?”

“I was on the Eastern Front until I was wounded several weeks ago and then stationed in Berlin with these young men until we deserted our posts in Berlin. I must apologize, but we don’t have much time
for details.  I must see Inga right away. Is she still working here?”

Lisa nodded in understanding, having personally consoled many a soldier whose last posting lay on the Eastern Front.

“Inga? Why yes, of course she still works here,” she replied, slightly offended.  “Why wouldn’t she be here? I pay the most lucrative wages in town.”

Lisa turned to Goot and the boys, looking at their general appearance
, shaking her head before speaking.  “Is this what the mighty German army is comprised of these days, old men and boys? No wonder your Germany is losing the war.”

Goot took offense to her choice of words, more for the
boys’ sake than his own. “Who do you think you are to make such a comment? The Queen of Sheba in a tight dress?”

Dieter patted him on the back in an attempt to calm him down.

Lisa was quick to respond. Never one to lose a customer, she could see she had evidently offended the gentleman. “Now, now, my dear,” she purred, grabbing his arm, snuggling close.

Goot pushed her away in horror.

“Break it up you two. I need to see Inga right away,” Dieter said, the urgency in his voice apparent to all. “The Americans are in town and we don’t have much time before they stumble upon this place.”

Lisa pressed her hands together as if in prayer. “
The Americans are here? Now? This is the best news I have heard all month. And business has been off for far too long.”

Dieter laughed aloud at the savvy businesswomen. “You really change sides quickly don’t you Lisa?”

A look of seriousness crossed her face before she responded. “The only side I am on is the side of money, Captain Dieter. No one else pays my bills.  Now, you can go see Inga in room twelve while I entertain this charming older man you brought with you.”

Lisa once again grabbed Goot by the arm.

Dieter glanced back in time to see Goot having his wallet expertly picked by Lisa as she escorted him to the bar area.

FINDING INGA WAS EASY
enough, still singing the same old Bavarian tune she had sung to him four months before.  With the door leading to her room slightly ajar, Dieter eased himself into the Victorian-appointed but cramped room.  He quietly maneuvered along the foot of her brass bed as she sat brushing her brown waist-length hair in front of a dresser mirror.  Admiring her beauty for several minutes, waiting until she had finished, he cleared his throat to attract her attention. 

Immediately she turned, dropping her hairbrush on the floor in shock, her mouth agape. 

“You bastard—where have you been?” she demanded angrily.  “My letters to you for the past two months were returned with no forwarding address! I thought you were dead!”

Dieter took Inga in his arms embracing her slim fi
gure.  She allowed his hands to roam over areas he was all too familiar with.  “Ha-hah, you really did miss me, didn’t you? And I thought you would have forgotten me by now.”

Inga
grabbed his neck using it as support as she wrapped her long tan legs around the base of his back.  “Forget my long lost love?  Maybe I should have.” 

He b
rushed aside her jasmine scented hair, their eyes meeting. “Oh come now, Inga, no games this time, okay?”

As their lips were about to touch
, Lisa burst into the room. “Dieter,” she said breathlessly. “American soldiers are downstairs. You and your men must hide right away.” 

“Can you believe this? I haven’t seen this beautiful woman in over four months and now this has to happen.” He continued to
eye Inga appreciatively. “Damn it, just fifteen lousy minutes is all I would have asked for. It just goes to prove all good things must come to an end.”

Releasing her leggy grip, Inga slid back onto her bed. 

“Inga, there is one thing I must know before we part ways,” he said, taking a step back, gazing lustfully upon her body’s fullness.  “Has anyone come looking for me in the past couple of weeks? Anyone at all?” He searched her face for any sign of betrayal, never truly knowing whom he could trust anymore.

She moved closer to him, tilting her head to one side. “No, not that I’m aware of. Who would want to look for you here?”

“It’s a long story, one that I can’t explain right now due to our particular circumstances. Another day, another time, I promise.”

Dieter turned
to face Lisa and the boys who now gathered in the hallway. “Lisa, please go and fetch our friend Goot before the Americans find him and decide to shoot the poor old bastard.”

Dieter broke into a mischievous grin, truly realizing for the first time that he was about to be
come a very rich man
.

The rush of heavy leather boots clumsily running up wooden steps signaled the American soldiers were fast approaching.

Dieter ordered the boys to take up a defensive position in order to repel any advance for the moment. 

Goot was puzzled at Dieter’s response to the Americans.  “I thought you wanted to be captured by the Americans,” he exclaimed.

Dieter extracted his Lugar sidearm to check its ammunition. “I do, but on my own terms and conditions.” He turned to face Inga. “Is there an attic where the boys can hide?”

She pointed down the darkened hall. “Yes, of course. It is where we hide our black market alcohol from the police.” Inga took Dieter by the hand, walking the short distance to where she pushed aside a large, gaudy oil painting of an alpine mountain scene that revealed a secret door.

Dieter pulled Inga out of earshot of the boys and Goot.  “Is there enough room for all of the boys to hide for an hour or two while we surrender and distract the Americans from this place?”

“But of course.  It runs the whole length of the club—it’s at least twenty meters long.”

He t
urned back to face the boys, marveling at their age and determination.
They
are
a
bright
group
of
kids
who
deserve
better.
He had rescued them from the perils of Berlin and the Russian Army. Now it was time for the next stage of their lives to begin.

Dieter turned to
Schmitz. “Private Schmitz, I require you to take the boys into the attic.”

“You heard
the Captain.  Move out,” Schmitz ordered in turn, thinking they were going to surprise the Americans in an ambush.

“Damn it
, quietly!” Dieter said. “Do you want the Americans to hear you?”

IT WAS ALREADY TOO LATE
.  The American soldiers couldn’t help but hear the commotion on the wood floor above them.

T
he Sergeant in command responded by pulling a grenade from his web belt, carefully moving closer to the bottom of the stairwell.

“Drop your weapons
and come down peaceably,” the Sergeant yelled up the steps in his best schoolboy Germa
n
—
albeit with a Texas drawl.  “I’ll give you one minute to reply and then we come up shooting.”

D
ieter needed additional time. He had to stall the Americans until the boys could safely hide themselves in the attic. “American soldiers, we mean you no harm.  We just want to talk before surrendering,” he replied in near perfect English, a product of several years’ schooling in England prior to the war.

“No problem, buddy.  You can do all of your talking down here,” the Sergeant replied.  “Now, I order you to drop your weapons and come down with your hands up.”

Dieter realized the
Americans were an impatient lot judging from the cowboy movies he had watched before the war. A minute was too long for them, more likely counting to ten before choosing to fire.

He t
urned to Inga, taking her hand in his, his expression betraying his feelings. “The Americans have no idea that the boys are up here,” he said, pausing as he looked into her violet eyes knowing why he fell in love with her so many years before. “We will sacrifice ourselves and surrender to the Americans to distract them from the boys.  After this is over, I want you to take the boys to my parents’ farm and set them up with some money.  I will pay you back double as soon as possible.  Can you do this for me? Please…..for their sake?”

Inga was taken back by his request. “How am I supposed to settle down on a farm?” she replied curtly. “Do you just snap your fingers, and I change to a normal house frau and take in all of these boys?  Am I
also supposed to turn over my life savings to you?” 

Dieter realized the position he was placing her in
, but due to the circumstance had no other choice. “The Americans won’t hold us for long,” he cooed.”

Inga averted his eyes.

He gently placed his hands on her shoulder. “They will set us free in several months and then you can resume your wonderful life if you like. The boys need you, Inga.  Do this for all of the little boys and girls who didn’t make it through the war.”

Inga still chose to look away but Dieter could hear the soft sobs
as tears began to run down her cheek.

Dieter took her in his arms holding her tight. “For once in your life please don’t be a selfish bitch.”

“Selfish? Me,….Selfish?” she repeated, feeling the sting of his words, pushing him away.  “Am I the one who is selfish?  You bastard!  You have room to talk.  You don’t show up for months on end and expect me to drop everything for you?”

Dieter
dabbed at the black mascara now running down her cheeks with his uniforms sleeve.

“Inga, I’m sorry. I only have about thirty seconds before this place becomes a battle zone.  I am only doing this for the children’s sake and looking out for their well-being.  I gave them my word.  Please, can you help me?  It will only be for a short time.”

Inga studied his face, brushing his cheek with her hand. “Only a couple of months?
You promise me
?”

“Yes, I promise,”
he said, turning to check the boys’ progress down the hall.  “A couple of months tops, no more.” Dieter placed his left hand over his heart.

“If it were anyone else but you, Hans Dieter, I would spit in his face,”
she said, pausing dramatically as if ready to change her mind at any moment.  “Okay, I’ll do it. For the children’s sake only,” extracting some satisfaction at his omission. “I will see that they get to the farm and I can even kick in some money to get them started.  But I promise you, if you don’t return in a few months I’ll hunt you down myself,” jokingly grabbing his weapon, pointing it at his head before dropping it on the floor.  She suddenly reached up and engaged him in a deep passionate kiss.

Goot looked away in embarrassment.

“That’s the Inga I have grown to love,” Dieter said, taking her into his arms and spinning her lithe body around in a tight circle.

Inga gazed longingly into his eyes. “Please take care and come back as soon as possible.”

“Now that I have somebody to come home to, you know I will,” Dieter said, slowly releasing her.

The prospects of leaving Inga being bad enough Dieter walked to where Schmitz and the boys were positione
d in the doorway of the attic, heads poking out, faces covered in soot and dirt, resembling the youngsters who worked in the coal mines a hundred years before. He nodded to each before informing them in a low voice that they were to wait out the war and go with Inga after he left.  She was now in charge until he returned. 

Schmitz protested. “No
, sir, we go with you as soldiers. We can fight our way out of here.  There is no need for you to surrender for our sake.” 

Each boy nodded
in uniso
n
—
loyal to the end.

“I gave you an order gentlemen and I expect you, as soldiers, to carry it out. Is that understood?” Dieter declared harsh
ly but lacking any true meaning.

“Yes, sir, captain,” Schmitz replied, all the boys snapping to attention in response.

Dieter admired their devotion to him. “Stay in the attic and close the door.  We will meet again when the war is over.”

Dieter turned his attention to the pressing issue of the American
soldiers’ stationed one floor below.  Seeking encouragement from Goot and Inga, both were only able to provide a meager smile in response.  He straightened his uniform. “It’s show time.”

Dieter approached the top of the
steps. “Attention, Americans.  We would like to surrender.  We mean you no harm. There are only three of us up here, one of whom is a woman, so don’t shoot.”

Dieter
turned to see tears running down Schmitz cheeks as he executed a near perfect salute from his position at the attic’s door.

Dieter nodded to the young man
, returning the boys salute before proceeding down the wooden steps, and into captivity.