BlindFire (7 page)

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27

BlindFire

CHAPTER 4

  "I don’t know what to do! How am I supp
osed to deal with all this?” Danny
asked.
“I want to go and find her but where the hell do I start looking?”
  

  Harry took a sip from a can of lager and shrugged.  "I honestly couldn’t tell you because I don’t know. What do you think Claudia
would
want you to do?"  Harry had  tried  to  put  himself  in  his  friends  shoes,  they  didn't  fit.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine losing half of his own family.

  
The  two  men  sat shivering  on  white plastic garden
chairs  on  a  high  balcony  in  the  Belm district  of  Os
nabruck
. Each drank from a can of lager and several more empties lay scattered around them on the floor

  "They were all I had, her and the kids..! I can’t do this without her.”

  "I  don't  want  to  hear  you  talk  like  that,  don't  you dare go doing anything  stupid.
Tommy
and Sahra will be home soon and they will need you. You’re alive for a reason and don’t forget it."   Great, thought Harry, now its suicide. "All that hate is just bursting to get out.  Don't  use  it  against  yourself,  you have to  channel it  in  some  other  direction."   He took another sip.  "You know my old man?"

  "Actually no, not really!
"

  “Well.... When  he  was  in  the  war, fighting  in  the  trenches,  men  falling  all  around  him and  he  was  the  last  one  left.”

  “Yeah....”

  “He  could  hear  a  load  of  jerry’s  coming  over  the  top. Bayonettes fixed screaming some war cry. There  was  nothing  left  for  him  to  do  but  die  like  an  Englishman.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He  pulls  out  a  bottle  of  whisky  and  downs  the  lot  in  a  oner.”

  “Bloody hell! So he died right?”

  “No way man. Nobody messes with my granddad when he’s pissed.”

  "Quick Dan
.... Come in here, it’s the news!"  Harry’s wife
s
houted excitedly. “They’ve arrested a man.”

Leaping  out  of  the  chair  he got  to  the television  set  just  in  time  to  see  a  photograph  of  the man.

             ‘The man
from Antrim
was later released after

              Security forces realised their mistake in arresting

              The truck driver.  And that’s it from me Sheldon

              McLain News at ten, and now the weather...'

  "That’s not him..! Those
idiots arrested the wrong m
an..! Sod this for a game of Soldiers, I’m off down the pub." Danny
said then picked up his coat and strode briskly out of the door before Harry could stop him.

  "Harry, you know he needs psychiatric help." Claire cried.

   He grabbed
his coat and made for the door.  "Are you going to tell him or shall I?"

  Claire burst into tears.  "For Gods sake catch him Harry."  She sobbed.  "Before he does something stupid...  I  don't  know  why  he had  to  stay  here  anyway,  he's got  other  friends.  Why  couldn't  he have  stayed  in  camp  or with  Jim  or  Matt  Clarke?"  She lit a cigarette.

  "Not now woman."  He snapped.  “Just not now."   He felt very guilty  and  annoyed,   his  wife  had  voiced the  feelings  he  had  been  trying  so  hard  to  hide.  "I’ll find him; I think he’s gone to the shack...  See you later."   Harry left  leaving   his  wife  to  cry  as  she  had  done  every night  since  the murder.

  The  'Shack'  as  it  was  affectionately  known  was  once  a  Gestapo hangout,  a  candle  in  the  night  for  weary  war  beaten  German  soldiers.  Nothing  much  had  changed  in  the  last  fifty  years  only  the place  was  dirtier,  draughtier  and  the  candles  had  been  exchanged  for dimmed  lights.  The  clientele  may  have  been  a  different  nationality, but  they  like  their  forerunners  really  didn't  care  where  they  got  drunk.

  When  Harry  entered  the  building  it  was  almost  empty  except  for Sabina  who  ran  the  place  and  two  elderly  locals  sat  in  the  corner playing  the  same  dice  game  they  had  been  for  years.

  "Hallo Sabina, haben Si
e Danny
gesehen?"   Harry said in his military class three German.

  She smiled and motioned toward the toilet.

  "Ah gut, dann zwei Bier bitte."

  Sabina laughed.  "It’s Ok you can speak English in here."

  "It’s alright Ha
rry, I’ve already ordered."  Danny
cried as the toilet door   swung shut behind him.

  "You’re going to get drunk?"

  "Maybe...”

  "What's the point?"

  "Oh go home to your wife while you’ve still got one."

  "Sod that."   Harry replied.  "She's sat at home crying her little heart out....  I think I’ll hang out here for a while."

  The  drinks  came  thick  and  fast  disappearing  into  the  guts  of   the two  men  with  equal  speed.  The required effect was soon in evidence.

  "Hey you..! Ye
s I’m talking to you.” Danny slurred and spilled some beer as he slammed the glass back on the table. “Box head'!
  I’m speaking to you
….”

  "Verpiss dich Englander." The
big German growled
menacingly and glared at the Soldier.

  "What did you say,
you
piece of Kraut shit." Cried Danny
angrily, rising unsteadily to his feet
and knocking over his drink which crashed to the floor and smashed
.

  "Well if you want it in English." Replied the German.  "I said piss off
..
.
Why don’t all you island monkey’s just go home, we don’t need any of you here!
"  He  then  looked  at  his  friend  and  whispered  something  where upon  they
  burst  out  laughing.

  Danny
  flew  at  the  man  like  a  crazed  Rottweiler  but  Harry  was  ready  and  only  half  as  dru
nk  and  managed  to  catch him
  before  he had  chance  to  kill  the  old  man.

  "
For Christ’s
sake stop it
,
he’s done nothing to you."

  "He’s a dead man?" 

  Harry dragged him
back towards the table.  "Come on before she calls the ‘Polizei’."
He d
emanded.
“Let’s get out of here.”

  "Let’s bomb Duisberg...  Remind these people who actually won the war."

  "Sure mate,
we’ll do that in the morning
in the morning."

  "
You get in touch with the RAF boys and I’ll do all that Tally ho stuff!” Danny
laughed at the German and then
noisily slid under the table and passed out.

  "Tally ho stuff?
"
Harry frowned. “What the hell is that?”

  "Have we got a problem here boys?
."  Growled a large military policeman now looming over them.

  "There's no problem here Se
rge
ant, I
was just
about to take
him home."

  "You
're lucky; my little house
on the corner is already full tonight. You take him home
..! And no more trouble.
.
!"
Added the Sergeant
and then turned to the bar maid and smiled.  "Good evening
Sabina."  Then he left.

  "
Get lost pig."  Burbled Danny
, luckily no one heard him
. He
felt dizzy,
his  mind  raced  to
thoughts  of  his  wife  and  children, he  became  awar
e  of  someone  carrying  him.
"Am I going to gaol?" He asked.  "Shit...."   He
said and
fell into the relaxing arms of stupor.

  He  awoke  several  hours  later  from  a  sound  sleep,  which  usually meant   no  nightmares,  to  the  endless  drumbeats  of  a  throbbing headache.  He  squinted  his  eyes  until  they  focused  on  the  clock. Determining  it  was
about
  seven  ten  he  clambered  upright  and  made  for  the  kitchen  on  unsteady  feet.

  Cupping his head in his hands he moaned.  "Oh my head, Shit..." After  getting  a  carton  of  milk  from  the  fridge  he  studied  the  room for   a  cup  or  glass,  there  was  none.

  "
Bollo
x."  He whispered and drank straight from the carton.

  "I hope you know that’s my last milk."  Said Claire as she breezed in and o
pened the kitchen curtains. "Danny."  She added
almost as an afterthought.
"I nearly forgot a
telephone call came for you last night.  You’re on Commanding Officers interview this morning at eleven o’clock.
They said you can go in civvies and don’t be late.
"

   "Should be fun."
He replied solemnly. 

  Exactly  two  and  a  half  hou
rs  later  Staff Sergeant Danny Stone
  was  standing
to attention
outside  the CO's  office.  He  had  actually  been  there  an  hour  already  for  reasons only  he  knew  and   through  sheer  boredom  had  wandered  up  and down  the  corridor,  several  times  looking  at  the  old  photographs  on the  walls  some  of  which  dated  back  to  the  first  World  War.  He paid special attention to the
trophy cabinet and one of three
si
lver cups in particular. It was   for running and
had
the inscription   'Sergeant Danny Stone.'   He   remembered  the race  clearly  but  dismissed it
  as 
a dream
  from  another  life,  a  life that  was  so  close  he  could  sometimes  smell  his  wife’s  perfume  or hear  the  laughter  of  playing  children.

  A  voice  called  his  name  and  he  jumped  from  his  daydream.

  "Stone
."   Demanded the voice once again.

  Danny
recognised   '
Kn
uckle
head', or as he liked to be called ‘The RSM'.

  "Sir."  He replied.

  "The CO will see you now....  Just knock and go in."

  This  office  was  just  like  any  other  office  throughout  the  British Army.  Assorted  photographs  and  certificates  hung  on  the  walls  and in  the  corner  a  glass  cabinet  contained  the  mans  personal  trophies, well over twenty.  The  whole  room  seemed  designed  to  show  how successful  and  important  this  middle-aged  but  fit  man  was.  Colonel Evans  had  been  in  the  Army  almost  twenty 
six
years,  he  knew  but didn't  accept  that  Osnabruck  would  be  his  last  posting  and  fought daily  with  his  superiors  at  manning  and  records  for  extended  service.  To  no  avail  in  eight  weeks  this  soldiers  career  would  be finished.  Inwardly  panic  was  setting  in  after all  what  else  did  he know  except  soldiering,  this  was  his  life.  Outwardly he was the
s
ame unapproachable pompous asshole he always had been.  He may have commanded his unit but he commanded little respect.

  Danny
  entered  the  room expecting  to  find  the   only
Commanding Officer
   but  was surprised  to  find  Major  Rothschild  surveying  the  parade  square through  a  large  window.

  "Come in Staff Sergeant
and take a seat.  I believe you know the Major."  
The Colonel
Said far louder than was necessary.

  "Yes Sir." 
He r
epl
ied and threw the Major a glance. "We’
ve met."

  The  Major  seemed  to  be  in  deep  thought  impervious  to  what  was going  on  around  him.

  "Ehm..
.” The CO cleared his throat. “Major Rothschild...  Stone is
here."

  "Oh yes...  Sorry."   Said the Major as
he turned away from the window. "How
are you keeping
, alright I hope?"

  "I’m getting by Sir."

  "Well  we  have  news  for  you,  ever  be  i
t  so  little."   He said
.  "Would you like a cup of tea or something stronger?"

 
Danny gripped his hands tight behind his back
.  He had to
,
they were trembling with fear. "No thank you Sir."