OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 24

The black staff vehicle coasted into the city of Bastogne less than two hours after its stop along the treed lane in France. The border crossing went too easily and explained why they'd had so much trouble with rebels. The destruction that once lay hidden was now fully exposed. The occupation forces were arranged openly, as if they were bragging about their conquest. The country currently suffered under military leadership and the Resistance stayed relatively quiet within the city. Compared to France, any threat that faced them would be minor. After all, Belgium did fall relatively easy to the German invasion.

Gustave directed Hoch through the maze of roads. Then the car halted at another checkpoint, further delaying their tight schedule. A remarkably young soldier checked and rechecked Carsten's papers. He seemed confused or unable to read. An older and higher ranking enlistee wandered over, his hands behind his back, to see what was transpiring. He snapped at the boy in German, throwing up his arms and spitting violently. He tore the papers from the boy's hands and gave them back to Carsten with profuse apologies. He winked at Claire and saluted the men.

Settling back in the car, Carsten explained the importance of keeping their mouths shut until Köln once they made their pick up. It was in their best interest and wouldn't be all that difficult. The comment was made especially toward Mr. Healey. Once the new agent left, they could attack each other at will. He suggested they use the time to develop better remarks to volley. If they had anything pressing to say, they had better use the few minutes they had. His advice was a gamble, but so was the entire mission.

Hoch drove them to the drop point after the interruption with no issue from any of the Healeys. The streets were lined by rubble, haphazardly stacked out of the way for passing vehicles and transports. Hollow facades stood stubbornly against the wind, as if to declare that no bomb should ever knock them over. Hoch parked far away from such buildings, finding a spot that appeared relatively intact on the street where they were told to meet the contact.

Carsten and Gustave climbed out of the car. A small market hummed with civilians to their right. To their left, the field of carnage widened. Hoch emerged from behind the wheel. He lit a cigarette, preparing to guard the cargo. He pulled his rifle through the window and then leaned against the car. He cradled his weapon in his arms while smoking and surveying the street.

"You have your orders," Carsten said. Hoch nodded. "Come, Gustave."

Carsten and Gustave walked toward the market. They studied the stalls as they wandered by the busy people. Somewhere among the Belgians hid Jonas Mertens. Carsten had no idea who to expect. Gustave's message only told them where to expect their contact and his name. The lack of information didn't sit well with Carsten. It meant a lack of faith from his commanders or it might mean they'd had an abrupt change in plans. Either way, it left him uneasy.

Their search led them into the market where they came across a farmer surrounded by basket cages of fowls. Carsten pocketed his hands and grinned. He waited for Gustave to make the same discovery. When the man did, he cursed and shook his dark head.

"You cannot seriously expect me to walk back to Orléans with chickens," Gustave said.

"Walk?" Carsten asked. "Like hell you would." He faced the old man running the stall and greeted him with a nod. "Besides, I promised Marcel."

"That man is the devil," Gustave grumbled.

"If he is, all the more reason," Carsten said.

Carsten bartered with the farmer, discovering he spoke decent enough German to muddle through the transaction. When they closed their deal, Marcel was four hens and a rooster richer. The farmer threw in a half-dozen chicks. His stock didn't sell that day and they would be a waste, too small to eat and too young to be of any other use. Carsten remarked how lucky he was to claim such a resource in the middle of such desolation. Nature marched on despite them. The old man appeared unconvinced of his good fortune.