I did a couple of quick fixes to make the story read how it should have gone (originally). Problem exists between chair and keyboard.... However, I am taking Eric's comments [in the Bar] and going that route instead.

No Questions Asked

2nd draft, with 'Band-Aid, 12 Nov 2001

by Greg Donahue

    Dave woke up when the front door slammed. He sat up off the couch and pushed his glasses back in place. A book fell off his chest and onto the floor.
    «Shit,» Dave muttered as he picked it up and placed it on the coffee table. He looked at his watch. Gerd was probably getting home from his shift. «Hey buddy, how was work?» Dave shouted towards the door.
    «It vass gut,» Gerd hollered back from the kitchen. He appeared at the doorway with two beers. He handed one to Dave before taking a seat in the lazy boy opposite the couch. «Aber, I am pissed off! I mean, but I am pissed off.»
    «Talk to me, Goose,» Dave replied before taking a drink. Gerd first saw Top Gun two nights ago, and it enchanted him. He was heartbroken to learn that apparently no one in Grantville possessed an aircraft.
    «You know the man go free?» Gerd asked, calming down a bit after sipping his beer.
    Dave was still getting used to his new boarder's broken English. He had met Gerd while helping train labor for the power plant's tree trimming crews. Gerd was one of the few who spoke any English, and Dave grew to like him over the past week. He offered to let Gerd stay with him a few days ago.
    «I'm sorry, what?» Dave asked slowly.
    Gerd had a look of concentration on his face before continuing. «The man Gretchen not say OK. They will go free. I hear today at work.»
    «Oh, right,» Dave replied. «They are being expelled, not set free. You, my friend, were set free.»
    Gerd gave Dave a puzzled look. «Expelt?»
    Dave held a finger up while he took a swig of his beer. He wiped his lip and set the beer down on the coffee table. «They will leave here. If they come back, they may be killed.»
    Gerd nodded, and then shook his head. «These man should now die. Why they free? Expelt?» Gerd had a particular man in mind, but didn't share that with Dave.
    «It's how we do things. Would you have us kill you before? Aren't you happy to be set free?» Dave asked, trying to keep his wording simple.
    «Yes!» Gerd exclaimed. «But these man, they...» Gerd stumbled for the word in English. «You know. They take woman! They see man in house, they cut him, to get his money. They kill man, take woman. Schwein!»
    «Men,» Dave corrected. «Women. They rape the women. They torture the men so they tell where their money is.»
    «Yes, that!» Gerd exclaimed. «We let them go, they kill men, rape women.»
    «Hey man, I agree! I'm not in charge here, though. Besides, if we see them anywhere around here after July 5th it's open season!» Seeing Gerd shrug, Dave tried again. «We will not kill them. It is how we work. I do not like it, but they will not come back.» Dave stood up and took his empty bottle into the kitchen.
    Gerd followed him and threw his bottle in the trash. «What we have for dinner?»
    Dave, relieved that Gerd moved onto another subject, smiled. «We will feast like men!» He hollered. «Wait here!»
    Gerd stood in the kitchen, waiting and slightly confused.
    Dave returned with a shotgun in one hand, and a scoped rifle in the other. He tossed the shotgun to Gerd. Gerd fumbled and almost dropped it. He held the shotgun gingerly, as if Dave had handed him the fire of the gods.
    «We will stalk our prey like cats, strike like eagles and feast like pigs!» Dave shouted, thumping the rifle to his chest. He laughed at the look on Gerd's face. Dave handed him a box of shells. «Guess you better have a lesson first.» Dave walked out the sliding glass door and into the woods behind the house.
    Gerd followed carefully, half expecting the strange weapon in his hands to start firing off dozens of rounds at the slightest touch.
     
     
    «So you ended up shooting your dinner?» Mathias asked, tugging on a branch as Gerd sawed away.
    «Yes. I think Dave was looking for deer or something. A boar charged, and I dropped it with one blast from the shotgun,» Gerd replied, with the last word in English. The limb broke free and fell to the ground. «A very impressive weapon, it stopped the boar cold. We had it cleaned and cooked within an hour.»
    «Nice! Mr. and Mrs. Sizemore haven't needed to go hunting yet. They had plenty of food stored away. I sure hope they eventually let me do some hunting, especially with one of his firearms.» Mathias helped Gerd drag the branch over to the pile of detritus.
    «You'd love it. Smooth and very powerful. Not that I needed it, but I had it reloaded before the Boar hit the ground. It's a wonder any of us survived the battle,» Gerd said, thinking of the still healing leg wound he received that frightful day. «Anyhow, any more rumors about the men still being held? Before they send them off, are the Americans going to give them a hug and a pat on the ass as well as take their photograph?» Gerd snorted, using another new term.
    «Why does it bother you so much?» Mathias asked. «The Americans can flatten a small army with only a handful of men. They can afford to be so gracious. Would you rather have been back where you were, a mercenary?» Getting no response from Gerd, Mathias continued. «Right. At any rate, I think they're busing them up to the end of town tomorrow and sending them on their way. Apparently, they're going to post signs around the edge of town saying something like `Kill on sight. No questions asked.'»
    «Tomorrow, huh?» Gerd asked, receiving a nod. Gerd smiled, and moved onto another tree.
     
    Wilhelm woke up to an American screaming in his face. Wilhelm spoke very little English, but the gestures the American was making were clear enough. He got to his feet and was directed outside.
    The past several weeks had been a series of ups and downs. He survived the vicious battle unscathed, but was sure the Americans were going to kill all the captives. Then he realized they were treating the wounded, and he felt reassured he might live to see another day. Better still, many of his men were set free, and he thought perhaps the Americans were paid off and were releasing them back to Tilly. However, it became clear the Americans had only let his and his comrade's men go to augment their own army. He and his fellow officers were going to be executed. He latest relief came when the Americans took his photograph, a truly unique experience. He knew he was going to be set free, but banished from this area. The damning photographed ensured he couldn't stay close by for long.
    «Move it, you hun of a bitch!» The American hollered, and then laughed.
    «Good one, Tom!» laughed another.
    Wilhelm and the others were lead to a large yellow vehicle. They were all forced to cram into the seats while an American, armed with one of their damned rifles, stood guard over them at the front. The large vehicle began moving, and the guard began talking. When he was finished, he pointed to Jan sitting up front, who understood English.
    «He wants me to translate,» Jan said. «We are reminded to never return, or we will be killed. We have until July 5th, by their calendar I presume, to be out of the area.»
    «By their calendar? When is that?» asked a man behind Wilhelm.
    «Yes, and what lands do they control?» asked another.
    Jan turned back to the American and conversed quickly in English. He turned back, a little shaken. «He says July 5th might as well be yesterday as far as we care, and he only smiled when I asked what their lands consisted of!»
    Wilhelm cursed silently. He needed more time to get the loot he had hidden. Once he got his hands on that, he could do well for himself, war and Americans be damned.
     
    Dave awoke to the sound of his watch beeping from the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes and put his watch on.
    «Stupid damned Ring of Fire,» he muttered as he skulked into the kitchen. Everyone had been working hard ever since the Ring of Fire, and his tree trimming crews were no exception. He hadn't had a day off since, but set his alarm early this morning to get one last good breakfast in before the milk spoiled.
    Dave pulled open the cupboard and pulled out the last box of cereal. He got the milk out of the fridge and set it on the table. It was dated to expire two days ago.
    «Come on, schlafkopf!» he hollered. «This is our last day of Lucky Charms for the rest of our lives!» They had agreed to make it a special occasion as the last of the milk and the last of the cereal was consumed.
    Dave got out two bowls and spoons. He filled both with cereal and threw the empty box away. «I don't want to start without you, hurry up!» Since Gerd was moving, slow, Dave took the time to get some coffee going. Coffee was running out too, so he decided to add it to their last `twentieth century breakfast' for the foreseeable future.
    «God damn it, wake up!» Dave yelled. He had already downed a cup of coffee with no peep from Gerd. «The best part of waking up, my ass,» he muttered while walking to Gerd's door. He opened it and saw an empty bed.
    Dave couldn't find Gerd anywhere in or around the house. He called the plant to see if Gerd went in early, but they hadn't seen him. He searched the house one more time, for any clue.
    «Son of a BITCH!» Dave yelled, staring into his gun case. Both his deer rifle and shotgun were gone. One of the camouflage hunting coveralls was missing from the closet.
    Dave went back to his room and opened his closet door. He pulled an M-1 Garand out from the corner, and slammed the door shut. He picked up the phone again and called the police station. One of Dan Frost's new deputies picked up.
    «Hey Matt, Dave McCleod here. I have a situation.»
     
    Wilhelm and the others were left standing in a field while the large yellow vehicle turned back to town, leaving them in a smelly cloud of its fumes. A large group of them had decided to head for Leipzig, with most of the rest scattering in various directions. That was fine with Wilhelm as he had plans of his own. He looked up at the sun and tried to orient himself. He needed to head west. Lacking a horse, or for that matter, a large yellow vehicle, he started walking away from the morning sun.
     
    Matt pulled up in a police four by four and honked the horn. Dave came out the door with his Garand in hand, and got in.
    «Bill Porter called back from the plant. One of the other Germans on the crew thinks he might know where Gerd went. He seemed a little interested in where and when the last batch of prisoners were being sent on their way.» Dave slid a clip into the Garand and pulled his thumb free before the bolt snapped shut.
    «They dropped them north of town,» Matt said, putting the truck in gear. «You think he's got a grudge against one of them? There's more than a few people around here that do.»
    «I don't have a clue. I kind of like the guy, but he still walked off with some of my stuff.»
    «How much would it bother you if he shot the bastard who, say, killed his wife or daughter? The way I hear it, many of the guys in that army are as much victims as anyone,» Matt offered. «I don't know what Dan or the others would do with him if that's the case. A jury of our peers would let him go.» He shifted and put the pedal back on the floor.
    «I'm not sure it would bother me, but we've got to find out.»
     
    Wilhelm had been walking for hours, but he recognized where he was. Several weeks ago, much to his surprise, one of the locals actually had a good haul of money stashed away in his house. One of the then new arrivals to Wilhelm's group was becoming a good student at getting that type of information out of people. They were the only two that knew of the loot, and hid it in the outhouse, rather than risk being forced to `share' it or have it stolen by the other mercenaries.
    He knew the small cluster of houses was close. If he was lucky, he would find the bag and a place to bed down before night. He didn't look forward to retrieving the bag, but the contents were more than worth it.
     
    Matt brought the truck to a grinding halt in the field. The school bus tracks were still evident where the banished men were dropped off.
    «Be careful, some of those bastards might still be around,» Matt said, clicking the safety off the .45 on his hip.
    Dave scanned the area with binoculars. «Shit, I see nothing.»
    «It looks like a large number of them went to the north east,» Matt said, pointing to some disturbed ground. «I'll take a wild guess and assume he won't attack someone in that large a group. So that leaves...what?»
    «I don't know, but I imagine Gerd's target will be on foot. Gerd's probably on foot too. I vote we go in the opposite direction of this large group,» Dave offered.
    Matt thought on it for a moment. «Opposite would be southwest. That would bring them somewhat through Grantville. I don't think any of our banished friends would risk that. Let's try due west, and zigzag as we go.»
    Dave nodded and hurried back into the truck. Matt got in and drove west.
     
    Wilhelm found the outhouse. Unfortunately, he realized that all the houses at the crossroads had been torched, so bedding down for the night meant an outdoor stay. For some reason, the outhouse didn't get torched before the tercio left. Some things are indeed scared, Wilhelm laughed too himself, especially a shitter to a soldier. He opened the door to the outhouse and held his breath.
    The smell wasn't unbearable, as no one had likely used it since his tercio pulled out of here awhile ago. He leaned over and peered inside, hoping to see the rope that he had attached to the bag, to facilitate pulling it out. It was too dark in the outhouse to tell. He stood up and tested the walls to the outhouse. With a little time and effort, he was able to tear the walls free from the hole.
    Looking back inside with daylight to help, he was still unable to see the rope. He turned around and looked at the charred skeletons of the houses. Thinking he might find a ladder, hoe or something else to help, he headed towards them.
     
    «Well, at least we know it wasn't Gerd,» Dave said between laughs. They had just blown by one of the released German prisoners at fifty miles an hour. The man must have thought the Americans were coming back to kill him, because he took off at a dead run through the woods, and caught a branch at forehead height.
    «I wish I had a video camera for that one,» Matt snorted.
    They headed northwest, on the `zag' of their `zigzag.'
     
    Wilhelm let out a long sigh of relief. He found a hoe, and it was long enough to reach to the bottom of the outhouse's pit. He started to lean into the hole when he heard a snap from the nearby woods. He immediately came to a crouch and gripped the hoe tightly. After several tense moments, he saw nothing, and leaned back over the hole to fish for the rope.
    A half hour later, after almost falling in twice, he snagged the end of the rope and pulled it up. The rope was soaked in excrement. Wilhelm took his shirt off and pulled the rope and bag out of the muck. He set the bag on the ground with an audible clink, and smiled. He carefully opened the sack and pulled out another, much less excrement soaked bag. The mechanical racking sound that came from the woods sent chills up his spine.
    «Well, hello there Wilhelm!» came a shout from the woods.
    Wilhelm was shaking too much to respond. He picked the hoe up and held it in both hands.
    «Oh, that won't be doing you any good,» came more words from the woods.
    «Who are you? Show yourself!» Wilhelm asked, knowing the nervousness is his voice was all too obvious.
    A shadow of a man emerged from some brush. He was wearing the damnable camouflage the Americans favored. It was obvious by his accent that he wasn't an American. The man pulled back a thin camouflaged veil from his face.
    «I...I...know you,» Wilhelm stammered. «Gerd is it?»
    Gerd smiled as he approached Wilhelm.
    «Of course, it seems you beat me here. I suppose we should split this in half, as agreed when we hid it,» Wilhelm said, nervously gesturing to the bag on the ground.
    «Half? You stupid bastard! Throw that down,» Gerd said, motioning to the hoe.
    Wilhelm immediately dropped it. «Sixty forty?»
    «If all I wanted was this stinking loot, I would have come here much sooner to get it, and you would have been left with a hole full of shit.» Gerd laughed. «I might have stayed hidden and watched, to see how long you'd dig around in the shit looking for it. You're a bastard, and you tried to turn me into one.»
    «I see,» Wilhelm said, quietly. His fate seemed to loom over him with all the weight of the world. «Get it over with, then.»
    «You know what's lovely about this whole situation?»
    Wilhelm, knowing the next few moments were his last, cared not to answer.
    «The Americans» Gerd continued, «will likely not care that I shot you dead. I will get some shit for stealing these weapons, but that's likely all. In case they do care, I've already concocted some story about you burning my house down and killing my mother.» Gerd raised the shotgun to his shoulder. «Or was it my father? I do forget. Either way, your life, and all the shit it's responsible for, ends here.» Wilhelm heard a distant whirring sound, it sounded like an American vehicle might be approaching. Gerd heard it too, lowered the shotgun and looked over his shoulder.
    «Damn,» Gerd muttered. He picked the sack of loot off the ground. He was about to throw it back in the pit, but realized the Americans would look there in the investigation likely to come. With the outhouse in pieces and a shit covered rope, shirt and sack, they would easily put the pieces together and take a look inside. He'd have to hide it elsewhere and come back for the sack another day. He decided he would take his chances by leaving the sack hidden under some brush in the woods, but there was one remaining problem.
    Wilhelm doubled over from the shotgun blast, and almost fell into the hole. Gerd hurried into the woods and hid the sack. He came back just as the American truck came into view. He laid the shotgun down, and unslung the rifle from his shoulder, placing it on the ground as well. He fell to his knees and started to work up false tears as he reviewed his story. Mother, yes, his invalid mother was killed by Wilhelm. The bastard.