Their eyes met and in that instant he knew. Just when he had gotten comfortable and thought perhaps they had forgot about him. He was wrong. It was happening.
CHAPTER THREE
AUGUSTE STARED AT THE unfamiliar man across the table. It had to be him. Those were the words he had once hoped to hear and now dreaded. He’d never expected to develop friendships. He’d never expected to care so much about strangers. That familiar pang growing in his stomach over the years now contorted into an agonizing knot. Struggling to find the words to say to the man, he swallowed hard to replace the moisture the shock sucked from his mouth.
Jean-Luc looked at him and then across to the new man at the table. “Auguste, are you okay?” he asked, furrowing his brow at Auguste’s strange reaction.
Realizing he was blowing everything, he remembered his training and took a deep breath before forcing a smile. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. It’s just that seeing a face from my hometown has taken me by surprise.”
Looking across the table he found the face of the man he had yet to acknowledge. There was nothing familiar about his face, the black mustache twirled into points, or the beady grey eyes set too close together. Though he didn’t know this man, he knew what he had to do. What he was supposed to say. Everything in his body told him not to, but years of training rushed back to him and he remembered his response.
“Yes, indeed.” The words came out of Auguste’s mouth as if something had taken possession of his tongue. “Friendly faces are hard to come by these days. It is good to see you again, old friend.”
The man across the table smiled a sinister smile and leaned backward against his chair. “I can’t wait to catch up and fill you in on all that’s been going on back home, Auguste.”
Auguste held his gaze and forced a smile. “I can’t wait. We’ll find some time later. For now I’ve just realized that I must be going. I’ve developed a sudden headache from this cheap wine and my bed is calling my name.” He pushed away from the table and stood up, feeling a little like his legs were made of rubber.
“That’s a pity, Auguste. I hope you feel better,” Jean-Luc said, genuine concern crinkling his brow.
“Yes. Good night, Auguste. I will speak to you soon,” the stranger across the table said.
A haze of disbelief settled over him like a heavy fog while he made his way through the camp. It had finally happened. He’d hoped they had forgotten about him, and for a moment he’d thought they had. That hope was dashed tonight with the appearance of his contact and he knew that it was time... he was being called upon.
Auguste made it to his tent and fell backward onto his cot, a flood of emotions enveloping him. Things he’d tried to bury when he found himself happy in his new life resurfaced with a forceful blow. He had friends now... a brother. Comrades. Buddies. Relationships he’d never thought possible for someone like him. Clamping his eyes shut, he forced himself to remember. He needed to remember who he was to break the overwhelming feeling of guilt threatening to crush him into dust.
Letting his memories run free, he thought back to that fateful day four years ago. He remembered back to the last day he had been called Klaus.
THAT MORNING HE WOKE up like he did most days and walked across his private quarters to the sink. He ran his hands under the water waiting for the temperature to be right before splashing himself in the face. When he looked up into the mirror, he smiled at the twenty-year-old man who’d replaced the sixteen-year-old boy who’d joined the German Army four years prior.
During those years, Klaus doubled in size and now cut an impressive figure. But even with his substantial size and muscles sculpted from countless hours training, some soldiers still mocked him and called him “Beanstalk,” the nickname he’d received when he arrived. Usually he ignored them since he was no longer a beanstalk and could lay waste with ease to any of those men should he choose. Occasionally, he would silence them with a leveling stare and stifle his smile at the fear now living in the eyes of the men who’d once tormented him.
After joining the German Army, Klaus found himself in an unusual spot as the right-hand man of Colonel Konrad Schumacher. The day the colonel found him, he had Klaus escorted to his office. It was there that he told him of the plans he had in store for him. Because of Klaus’s unique talents with language and smarts, he would be one of the first German agents trained in espionage. Klaus was to learn how to perfectly blend into any number of countries for long periods of time. He would be expertly trained in combat, weapons, machinery and other useful skills. When training was complete, he would be a privately engineered German weapon capable of infiltrating even the most guarded level of society and to lay there and await his next orders.
Over the years Klaus studied for countless hours a day, perfecting different dialects and learning about every culture’s traditions. He was trained by the best soldiers in combat so should he need to fight in a situation, they were sure he would win. When his training ended, he became one of the German military’s most prized possessions.
He was happy for those years... or as happy as he’d ever been, at least. He had no friends growing up and unfortunately he’d made no friends here. His status with the colonel made him an outsider with the rest of the Army. The boys his age were all lower ranking and he was treated differently. He had private quarters, a private bathroom, special meals and special training. Most of his evenings were spent dining with the colonel and the two were seen regularly walking around the base together. While he was grateful for all the privileges the colonel extended him, it made making friends there impossible.
As he finished washing his face there was a knock on his door.
“Enter,” his deep voice boomed.
“Lieutenant Klaus,” said the officer now standing at the door, “Colonel Schumacher requests your presence in his office.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
After buttoning the last button on his green uniform, he picked up his wool visor cap and traced his fingers around the red band encircling it. He was a Lieutenant in the German Army. Lieutenant Klaus. The only officer to have his first name used behind a title because he had no last name. The orphanage never gave him one. But last name or not, he’d finally made his way in the world.
Klaus cut across the military base on his way to the colonel’s office, past the training soldiers. When he passed by, the soldiers stopped and saluted him. It had been a few months since his promotion and he didn’t think the awkward feeling of being saluted would ever go away. As he entered the barracks where the colonel’s office was, two men greeted him at the doorway. Each came to attention and stood and saluted him as he passed between them with a nod of his head. He found his way down the dark hallway to the office at the end.
“Come in,” the deep voice behind the door commanded after he knocked.
He opened the door to find the colonel sitting at his desk.
“Come, Klaus. Sit, sit,” he said, with an unusual amount of joy. Something was going on.
“What can I do for you, Sir?” Klaus asked with piqued anticipation.
“Your time has come, Klaus. Everything we have trained you for. It’s here. You have your first mission.”
The pounding in his heart paused for a moment then returned with a powerful thud. Trying to control his nerves, he reminded himself of his exceptional training. He’d spent years perfecting blending in, adapting to his surroundings and if all else failed, killing everyone around him.
“Germany will be at war with France soon. We need you to infiltrate the French Army and work your way up through the ranks. You will have no contact with us and you are to live as a French soldier. This may mean killing Germans. You will not blow your cover under any circumstances. Well, unless it’s me at the end of your rifle,” the colonel said with a smirk before stiffening his face again. “When we need you, we will send in a contact. He will pretend to be a friend from your hometown of Aries, France. He will say, ‘It’s wonderful to see a friendly face’ to confi
rm you are the correct target. You are to respond, ‘It’s good to see you again, old friend’. This will confirm to our contact that you are also the correct target. He will seek you out and give you your mission. You are to stay in deep cover until instructed to do otherwise. You will then be responsible for feeding us intelligence and keeping us one step ahead of the French Army. Can you handle that, Klaus?”
His head spun. It was really happening. Klaus took a deep breath and remembered... this is what he was trained for. He could do this.
“Absolutely, Sir,” he responded with certainty.
“Good, Klaus. I’m proud of you. You have the ability to turn a war around for us, should we need it. We will be counting on you. Your new name is Auguste Leroux.”
Leroux. Even though it was just for cover, for the first time in his life, he had a last name.
“You will be given money, identification and all the documents you need. You are to go to France and take up work there anywhere you can blend in. Once established you are to join the French Army and work your way through the ranks. Can you handle this?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. You have made me very proud, son. You are my greatest creation and I am looking forward to watching you succeed. I’m counting on you. Good luck.”
Klaus heard an unusual warmth in his voice and nearly choked when he heard the word son. The colonel had treated him well and was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had, so hearing the sentiment returned affected him more than he’d even imagined it could. A deep desire to make the colonel proud stilled the insecurity he felt, and he lifted his chin, meeting Colonel Schumacher with a powerful stare. “I won’t let you down, Sir.” He would do his best to make him proud. Klaus left his office and was gone on his journey the next day.
CHAPTER FOUR
AUGUSTE SPENT THE NIGHT pacing through his dark, cold tent. He’d been activated. The other spy would come to him and he would have to begin leaking information to the Germans. Information that would get his soldiers killed... that would get Jean-Luc killed. It felt like he was lying in a grave he had dug himself and now he could feel the dirt tumbling in on top of him, crushing him while he disappeared beneath it. He never imagined his time spent as an espionage agent would result in him developing sympathies for the other side. He had hoped that somehow the colonel had forgotten him. Tonight he knew he had to choose. Would he take up his original assignment and remain loyal to the man who had taken him in and acted as a father to him? Or would he choose to protect his new brother and the friends he had made these last years in France?
Auguste opened the door of his tent and looked over the endless rows of sleeping men. As the men slept around the dwindling fires, the faint glow of the morning light and a blanket of fog enveloped them. A long gulp slid down his throat when he realized they were just that... his. Since his last promotion, these were his soldiers now. They trusted him with their lives. How could he betray them?
“Capitaine Leroux, good to see you again.” The now-familiar voice of Private Blanch sent a chill through his blood and he stiffened against the shudder. Turning toward the voice, he nodded when he found the lanky man leaning against the tent beside him.
“Private Blanch. It’s good to see you again, too.”
A sneer pulled up one side of his thin lips. “I’m wondering if you and I could have some time to... catch up? I know that we have lots to discuss about our hometown.”
It took all his strength not to grab the trench knife from his boot and slit the man’s throat. There was no doubt in his mind the body would be slumped at his feet before Private Blanche could even reach for his own weapon. Those years of training in Germany made him as lethal as any weapon known to the military. But killing him here was not the answer. Auguste knew he needed a plan.
“I think tonight would be a good time to talk. I will be busy all day in meetings developing our next strategy. Perhaps after that we could find some time to... catch up. Can I meet you at sunset on the cliff outside of camp? The clearing in the trees right above the river?”
When Private Blanche nodded his response, his gray eyes glowed with satisfaction and an excitement that soon Auguste would be divulging information. Auguste, on the other hand, needed more time to figure out how to handle this new development.
With a sharp nod, Auguste spun and walked away from Private Blanch and back into his tent. Sinking down onto his cot, he let his head fall between his hands. He needed a plan, and he needed a plan now. He could kill the man. Certainly they would send another in his place, but he could kill that man too. And the next. And the next. The colonel would never know it was him and would assume they were all killed attempting to get to him or to get back with information. They wouldn’t be the first spies to lose their lives on the job.
Auguste spent all morning thinking. For each plan he came up with he found a reason it might not work. If he fed the spy bad information, certainly when it was found out they would blow his cover or send someone to kill him in his sleep. The only thing he was certain of today was that he needed to keep his men safe... from himself. And the only way he knew how to do that right now was for Private Blanche to disappear.
Knowing what he must do, he blew out a breath and readied himself for the day. After slipping into his standard-issue blue pants and jacket, he looked in the mirror and slid his blue and red visor cap on, remembering back to when it was green and red. Staring at himself in the mirror, he ran his finger across the small scar on his forehead from a close call with an enemy bayonet. He barely recognized his face as the man who’d left the German training camp four years earlier. He looked hardened... aged from the stress of war.
How could he not? He had spent weeks on end in the trenches with Jean-Luc, dodging the deadly yellow fog of the poison gas. He had been shot, stabbed, and almost blown up. He had killed hundreds of German soldiers to protect himself and his friends. The conditions he had endured were unfit for human and animal alike. When men see endless death and war, they cannot help but grow old beyond their years.
He was older now. Wiser. And he was still trained to survive at all costs. Survival today meant luring Private Blanch out to the cliff alone and killing him, tossing his body fifty feet into the raging river below. It would wash up miles from here and Auguste would be safe... Jean-Luc and his friends would be safe. If it would save the lives of his friends, then it was necessary and he would kill without hesitation.
Auguste walked across the camp and into the roughly constructed wooden building they had been using for meetings. He gazed at the faces of the men he now called his friends and his resolve to do what was necessary deepened. Lieutenant Martin, Sergeant Dupont, Staff Sergeant Bertolette. He couldn’t give away information that could get them killed. Certainty steadied his nerves, knowing it would only take a moment with a knife to end the threat... at least for now.
After spending the day in meetings, Auguste walked out of his shack just in time to see the sun setting. Knowing the time had come, he started his walk through camp trying to find the perfect place to duck out. As he casually walked by the officers’ tents near the woods, he saw a brawl break out between some of the men below. All eyes turned to the loud squabble, and he seized the moment and darted out behind the tents into the nearby trees. The clearing above the river was just a short walk through the woods.
Fallen leaves and branches crunched beneath his boots while he walked quickly yet quietly through the trees to the clearing where Private Blanch should be waiting. A flood of relief flowed over him since he’d learned today they intended to march into battle in the next few days. It would make people believe the disappearance of the man meant he’d deserted, and not that his body was floating down river.
When he got there, he found the space empty. Itching to get this over with, Auguste scanned the area and found the best spot to snuff out the threat. Long strides took him to the large single tree in th
e clearing where he would wait. It was close enough to the cliff’s edge to make disposal of the body quick and quiet, yet it afforded him some protection in the event something went wrong.
While he stood beneath the tree waiting, he had to remind himself to look calm and not to pace. It wasn’t fear that had him on edge but a need to see this threat extinguished and his men safe again. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t send anyone else after this and he could move on with his life. But if they did, that man would encounter the same fate that awaited Private Blanche.
After several minutes of waiting a soft rustle shook the leaves in the nearby trees. Finally, he arrived. Auguste kept calm and went through a mental list of how he intended to throw the private off guard. After silencing him for good he would need to be quick and toss the body into the river below before being spotted. Explaining why he’d killed a fellow soldier would be impossible and his neck would be in the noose just as it would be if they found out who he really is. Was, he reminded himself.
As the figure emerged from the woods, Auguste squinted against the dying light. It appeared to be shorter and stockier than Private Blanch. Looking harder, he saw three more shadows step out from the cover of the woods.
“Capitaine Auguste Leroux, don’t move!” the deep voice shouted, “We have you surrounded!” It was Lieutenant Martin. He could tell by the gruff, rumbling voice he had heard earlier in strategy talks.
The accusation felt like a cannonball hit him square in the gut. They know. But how? He’d been so careful. His heart hammered in his chest while he made out the shadowy figures. Lieutenant Martin, Sergeant Dupont, Staff Sergeant Bertolette and then... Jean-Luc. Even though they were still a healthy distance from him, he could see the pain and agony radiating from Jean-Luc’s eyes. It mirrored his own emotions that threatened to tear him apart from the inside.
A War Within (Epic WWI Love Story) Page 3
