Husbands and Knives (Closed-G/M/A?)

[Heinrich Landa]

Place: Landa Residence in Berlin
Time: 1625
Weather: Sunny, few clouds but no rain in the forecast

The day turned out glorious, to Ava’s standings anyhow. The church was filled with flowers and people, the two hour ceremony almost made Landa fall asleep but of course he got elbowed in the ribs every once in awhile by some jerk off Hugo wanted standing for them, some Luftwaffe soldier. Landa looked different in the line up, SS uniform versus pilot dress uniforms, yup the odd puppy in the litter. The wedding soon ended, everyone rushing out so then the wedding couple could go into their car and head over to the Landa estate, the reception would be held in their lavish yard where the Landa kids grew up. Waste a lovely yard on this crappy wedding. A snort came from Landa as he was the last one out, paying the priest what he needed for the ceremony and making sure the clean-up crew was there to get rid of the flowers. His jackboots clicked down the cement staircase, his lonely car sitting there with a Oberschütze sitting by the car waiting. A cig hung from the lesser mans mouth as he waited for Landa, but as soon as the metal of the jackboots hit the cement, he looked up, dropping the cig to the ground and putting it out. Landa really didn’t care right now as the Oberschütze opened the back door for Landa, letting him crawl in then shut it. The engine turned over smoothly, letting it purr for a moment before slowly moving away from the church.

The engine roar cleared Landa’s mind, taking off his cap and setting it in his lap. At least there wasn’t much more of this crap to go through before he would have some time to help Ava and Hugo settle down in the mansion with ma and then get shipped off to do something or another once again. His brown eyes looked down to his shiny, un-scuffed jackboots, letting the world just sit in the back seat of his mind and letting him truly think how this was going to play out. Would this be for the better for the Landa family or would this turn out to be hell in the end? Good thing Landa had a ‘distant’ friend coming, maybe to rough up Hugo if something did turn out even at the wedding, Heinrich was not going to have this asshole screw up his sisters life, nor his.

The car stopped and the engine turned off, Heinrich was still in his own place when the door opened. “Wir sind hier, Herr,” the Oberschütze said, keeping it kind of low but enough for Heinrich to snap out of it. The jackboots hit the gravel driveway, nodding to the lesser and putting his cap back on as Heinrich walked away from the car, it would be no hint that the lesser would be smoking once again and probably reading a magazine till the end of the night.

The sound of a orchestra played gently from the back of the huge mansion, many people still fluttering to go around the house and to the party in back. Landa slowly made his way there, not wanting to see the ‘happy’ couple and see Hugo’s ‘happy’ face. A shudder ran down Heinrich’s spine thinking of that, damn whore! All he thought about was the piece of ass he got to have at home and the more asses he’d have running around the bases when he’s retired. Damn him. Heinrich’s eyes made it around the corner the house the same time his body did, thank god more SS people. The uniforms here were a night and day difference and many stayed on one side or the other, away from the other branch of the Militär.

The flowers around the Landa residence blossomed at the right time this year, bringing a lot of color to the wedding reception and to the house. It was not in great of shape as it was when Edmund was still alive, he was one to nit pick at everything but mother tried to keep what she could looking right with the gardeners and she was picky about the flowers by father’s tree. There stood a old tree towards the fountain, a small plague sat at it’s base in memorial of Edmund Landa. Flowers decorated beside it, it was mother’s peaceful place. Edmund use to read to the kids under that tree, let them play and also climb it. So many memories rested in that yard, Heinrich didn’t want to loose any of them over another person coming into the family, it was bad enough his sister couldn’t even keep her last name. Why didn’t his brothers wed and move here?

Landa slowly walked around, thanking everyone for coming to his sister’s wedding even those Luftwaffe things over in the corner. The happy couple was out dancing by the make shift dance floor, a record player sat over there as well for later in the day when the orchestra left. Knowing many, they’d love to get this shitty music out of here sooner than later. Food was by the back end of the house, a small tent set up to eat under and to get out of the sun though there was many trees around with benches to sit under which many people were doing. Out in the farther back of the property was a fountain and many gardens, which Landa hoped he didn’t have to talk back there and kick anyone out because of trying to let the ladies know who’s boss. His eyes rolled on that thought as he moved to the next person, which by chance was a dance with his sister. She looked beautiful in her white gown, her dark hair was tucked in just so under that veil, their mother’s sapphire necklace gently laid against her neck. She looked beautiful.

" Ava, lieb. Sie sind heute schön," Heinrich said, their feet floating around the dance floor.

A chuckle came from the tiny framed woman dancing with Heinrich, "Sie sagen immer das, lieben Bruder."

"Ja aber heute sind Sie eine Braut," Heinrich had to say that, though his mind didn’t want to push that word out of his mouth.

"Zu schlecht konnten Sie nicht ein Landa bleiben, Wanderland passt Ihnen gerade nicht an." He got gently slapped on the chest with a frail hand of his sister. "Sie wissen ganz genau, dass ich in guten Händen sein werde," her sing-song voice echoing in his head. "Hugo ist mehr von einem Mann, als Sie ihm, Heinrich geben."

"Ich werde das glauben, wenn Hitler über Deutschland unterzeichnet," He was ye of little faith in that man.


Trans:

Wir sind hier, Herr
We’re here, sir

Ava, lieb. Sie sind heute schön
Ava, Dear. You are beautiful today

Sie sagen immer das, lieben Bruder.
You always say that, dear brother.

Ja aber heute sind Sie eine Braut
Yes but today, you’re a bride,

Zu schlecht konnten Sie nicht ein Landa bleiben, Wanderland passt Ihnen gerade nicht an.
Too bad you couldn’t stay a Landa, Wanderland just doesn’t suit you

Sie wissen ganz genau, dass ich in guten Händen sein werde
You know full well I’ll be in good hands

Hugo ist mehr von einem Mann, als Sie ihm, Heinrich geben.
Hugo is more of a man than you give him, Heinrich

Ich werde das glauben, wenn Hitler über Deutschland unterzeichnet,
I’ll believe that when Hitler signs over Germany,

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Laughter suffused the air surrounding the Landa household on this bright, sunny day, lending a cheery atmosphere to what would otherwise certainly seem a regal and somewhat forbidding setting. Greta followed the crowds of guests making their way across the lawn to the garden alone, giving a pleasant smile or greeting where required but otherwise occupying herself with examining the imposing structure they now wandered past. Wanderland had married no pauper; that was for sure.

She took her time passing through a garden which was to her a rich display, the riot of colors surrounding the residence in some small way softening the otherwise austere demeanor of the place. Though she managed not to look it in her moderately fashionable navy dress, inside she felt terribly out of place here. It was certainly a far cry from the pastures of wildflowers and the unassuming farmhouse in which she had grown up. And yet here she was, guest of the new Wanderland couple and their Landa kin, somehow mingling with people so far above her station that it was almost comical. More than willing to let such a grievous oversight go unnoticed by the majority, she hung back from the main crowds, admiring the floral displays out of a mix of genuine appreciation for their beauty and her standard unwillingness to embroil herself in the labyrinthine and oft bewildering affairs of the rich.

It was due to this dawdling that she managed to still be in the outskirts of the crowd when the bride’s brother appeared, making his way unhurriedly towards the back side of the house. On this most joyous of occasions, the disconcerting feeling of brooding unhappiness emanating from him in an almost tangible miasma caused Greta to stare despite herself as he went past. No one had commented thus far regarding the brother Landa’s misgivings within Greta’s earshot, and she did not know his social circle at all to find out what exactly had put him in this mood or how many had noticed, but with senses trained by combat to observe such details, the sour note he struck left Greta somewhat ill at ease. She once again wished it had been Gottfried that had received an invitation to attend this affair and not herself; though she did not know any of the fliers in attendance personally, simply being in uniform and having that strictly defined social role visible to all might have lent some sense of solidarity to interactions with the group. Like this she was just yet another girl come to some distant friend’s wedding, expected to ooh and ahh over the new bride and groom and sigh as she dreamed about her own wedding day. She would fill the role gladly, if in a somewhat subdued way when compared to some of the women she already saw haring off after what eligible bachelors had had the misfortune of attending the event, but it was still by no means a comfortable way to spend an afternoon.

Though the thought of finding some young man to terrorize did amuse her for a moment, she opted instead to make herself acquainted with a glass of lemonade and a shaded bench from which she could watch the Landa brother lead his beautiful sister in a dance. Her wedding dress gleamed an almost blinding white in the sunlight when the two glided past, and Greta could feel the automatic smile on her face widen into something more genuine as she watched the bride glow with a happiness known only by those newly wed, but enjoyed vicariously by all who observed them.

[Anton Maas]

Berlin. Prinz-Albrecht Street. Headquarters. Gustav Messer once thought that landing a job there meant he had succeeded. No more positions in small understaffed and overworked stations in occupied territory, surrounded by partisans. Gus assumed getting moved to the main headquarters meant he would become more of an undercover bodyguard to the top dogs of the Party, going to social functions, political rallies, and secret meetings and keeping an eye out for danger.

It was nothing like that at all. The head office was just as understaffed and overworked as all the rest, probably ever more so. And although most of his work did now involve the top dogs of the party, it involved most of the runts too. Because apparently every officer from Major to General was such a self-centered ass that they ordered a full investigation pretty much every time they weren’t addressed by their full title. And that meant that Gus spent most of his time going through a lot of boring paperwork to filter the credible from the false accusations. His job lost all the danger and excitement it once had. He was more likely to get caught in an Allied bombing raid then go on a raid against blackmarketeers himself. Really, Gus was getting dissatisfied with the path his career was taking.

And he didn’t think it was going to change, when his new Kriminalrat asked him to sit down in his office. As Hitler and Himmler stared down at him, the man sitting below the two portraits passed a sheet of paper to Gustav. It was an information sheet on a corporal in the SS. Gus memorized the face and the name before placing it down on his superior’s desk. The Kriminalrat then began,.

“Das ist Heinrich Landa, und alter Freund von meinem, und ein guter Freund zur Partei. Sie dürften von seinem späten Vater Edmund Landa gehört haben,” ((That’s Heinrich Landa, and old friend of mine, and a good friend to the Party. You may have heard of his late father Edmund Landa,)) Gustav shook his head, and he continued, “Sie sind nur in der Stadt lang genug nicht gewesen. Sie sind noch eine wohlhabende und auffallende Familie. Seine Schwester, Ava Landa, ist der fiancé zu General der Flieger Hugo Wanderland“. ((You just haven’t been in the city long enough. They are still a wealthy and prominent family. His sister, Ava Landa, is the fiancé to General der Flieger Hugo Wanderland.)) Another sheet was passed to Gus, and again he only looked at the picture of the older man, the rest was unimportant to him. „Wanderland ist ein aufgeblasener Goering Möchtegern. Und wenn, was Heinrich erzählt hat, dass mir richtig bin, hat er einen Lebensstil, der Moral herunterlassen könnte, wenn Ausbreitung herum“. ((Wanderland is a pompous Goering wannabe. And if what Heinrich has told me is correct, he has a lifestyle that could lower morale if spread around.))

Finally, Gustav was interested, and as twisted and sick ideas appeared in his head, he asked, “ Was bedeuten Sie, ‚sein Lebensstil könnte Moral herunterlassen ‚?“ ((What do you mean, ‘his lifestyle could lower morale‘?))

“Er hat einen unbefriedigenden Appetit für Frauen“. ((He has an unsatisfying appetite for women.)) The Kriminalrat realized from Messer’s disgusted grin that he had the wrong idea, “Nein nicht wie das. Er… mag nur Frauen zu viel. Und ich gebe zu, dass das nicht ernst ist, aber wenn ein General mit seinem eigenen Stall von Huren die Tochter von einem der der auffallenden Familien von Berlins heiratet, etwas schlecht wird geschehen“. ((No not like that. He… just likes women too much. And I admit that’s not serious, but when a General with his own stable of whores marries the daughter of one of Berlin’s prominent families, something bad is going to happen.))

Gustav sighed, he wasn’t interested in couple’s therapy. Putting the pressure on an adulterous husband would not give him the same satisfaction as smashing in a communist’s face. But on the other hand, they did both bleed the same way.

“So ich will Sie, über zum Landa Herrensitz zu gehen, und ihn zu überprüfen. Vielleicht ist Heinrich nur überfürsorglich von seiner Schwester. Aber wenn er ‚s Recht um seinen angehenden Schwager, will ich Sie, die Angst vor der Partei in ihn zu stellen“. ((So I want you to go over to the Landa mansion and check him out. Maybe Heinrich is just being overprotective of his sister. But, if he‘s right about his soon-to-be brother-in-law, I want you to put the fear of the Party into him.))

The two men smiled at each other.

“Aber Versuch, zu rau nicht zu sein, ich kenne Ihre Aufzeichnung, damit Versuch und die Verletzungen unsichtbar behält. Und behalten Sie es getarnt. Wenn Landa falsch ist, hat Wanderland das Ohr des Reichsmarschall Goering, und er sollte nicht aus Fund aus, dass wir einen von seinen Generälen nur gepirscht haben, weil er Frauen als ein Junggeselle gemocht hat“. ((But try not to be too rough, I know your record, so try and keep the wounds invisible. And keep it undercover. If Landa is wrong, Wanderland has the ear of Reichsmarschall Goering, and he shouldn’t out find out that we stalked one of his generals only because he liked women as a bachelor.””

Gus had enough of it. He would not work with a leash, he was no lapdog. “, Wenn dieser Landa ein Freund von ihrem ist, warum sich nicht geht“? ((If this Landa is a friend of yours, why not go yourself?)) He barked as he stood up.

“Weil, Messer, er sind nicht so gut von einem Freund, meine eigenen Hände zu erhalten, beschmutzen wieder“. ((Because, Messer, he’s not that good of a friend to get my own hands dirty again.)) Gus started to leave. “Und Hochzeitsempfänge sind nicht meine Art von Dingen mehr“. ((And wedding receptions aren’t my kind of thing anymore.))

Gus stopped, and turned around, ”Hochzeitsempfänge?“ ((Wedding reception?)) He picked up the papers from the Kriminalrat’s desk and began to read them more carefully.

“ Hätten Sie keine Informationen über welchen der Gäste, nicht wahr? Wie, die Brautjungfern? Und andere Leute“. ((”You wouldn’t have any information on any of the guests, do you? Like, the bridesmaids? And other people.))

But the Kriminalrat had already given all the information he had, so Gustav left Headquarters, first heading to his apartment, where he changed from his cheap “Hitler fabric” suit to a black pinstripe one. By the time he parked his red Mercedes coup near the Landa mansion, it was a little after 4:30, and a crowd was heading behind the Landa property. But Gus went to the front, of the mansion, thinking he could find Heinrich alone, so he could introduce himself without other people around.

He was wrong. “He, nicht wahr Sie? Was machen Sie“? ((“Hey, who are you? What are you doing?)) A large, pig looking man in a luftwaffe uniform called out as he rushed towards Gustav. Instinctively he went to show his Gestapo ID disc, but on second thought he decided to talk his way through the General’s lackey, and turned the motion into smoothing out his tie, around the little gold pin he wore in the middle of it.. Ist Der Name Messer.” ((The name is Messer.)) And if talking didn’t work, he could always punch his way though.

The large guard snorted a ‘Ja?’. Yeah, he was going to get punched, eventually.

”Ich bin ein Freund des Heinrich Landa, der Bruder der Braut. Ich wollte nur einen Moment nehmen, ihm und seiner Familie meine Beachtungen zu geben. “ ((I’m a friend of Heinrich Landa, the bride’s brother. I just wanted to take a moment to give my regards to him and his family .))

The guard stared at him for a moment, the gears in his head grinding slowly, then grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the party.

[Heinrich Landa]

OOC: Sorry it took so long, haying and seeing my new reenactment group threw me off course this week! Also, everything’s in German below, just don’t have to time to translate it over right now <3

It was peaceful for a moment, with Heinrich having his arms around his sister, the thought of Hugo slipped from his mind as they danced on that grass in the beautiful backyard of the Landa estate. The song too soon changed over and a hand was put onto Heinrich’s shoulder, the hand was a little bigger than anyone he knew of. Ah god, him… Heinrich didn’t even turn around to look, he placed a kiss unto his sister’s cheek, looking to her beautiful eyes. “Congratulations, Ava.” A smile was fakely placed onto his lips, though Ava couldn’t tell this smile from the next as Heinrich got better over the years. The Militar does wonders to faking shit. It was with a faint heart that Heinrich had to hand of his sister to this thug behind him, could’ve given him a good thrust of his elbow and kill him now with Hugo being such a weakling, like that man’s ever had to fight hand to hand to save his damned life ever. Heinrich turn to leave but the hand still stayed on his shoulder, whipping Heinrich around to face his worst enemy.

“You not going to say that to your new brother-in-law also?” Heinrich’s fake smile plastered down to a blank face as he turned now facing the Hugo Wanderland, the nightmare of his dreams. Hugo hugged Heinrich, though Heinrich really didn’t flinch. “You know everything will be fine with your dear Ava and Mother. Just because you’re Landa’s doesn’t mean others can be welcomed into the family as well,” Hugo said, then took a drink from his stein of beer. Hugo handed the stein to a friend of his then took Ava’s fragile hand and swept her off onto the dance floor another time before they would go and eat. Heinrich didn’t even look to the happy couple as they danced, he moved over towards the food and grabbed something small to pop into his mouth, just to keep him doing something other than punching Hugo in the face.

Some talk was coming from around the corner of the house Heinrich‘s ears picked it up, though he just kind of stayed in his own little world until a former voice of a know it all came about it. Heinrich’s eyes moving over there as he saw the Luftwaffe fag and a Gestapo coming around the corner. He made his way over there, curious on whom it was that Hugo’s ’friend’ was talking to and trying to shoo away from the Landa party. Heinrich waved the guy in the blue uniform away, telling him food was ready. Damn pig. A smile came upon Heinrich’s face as he patted the back of this Gestapo officer, slowly guiding him towards the front again.

“Ah, Messer Yes. Pleasure you came of course, your Kriminalrat spoke highly of you,” Trying to get past the last few guests that were late for the party. After no one was around, Heinrich’s smile faded and the seriousness of this set in yet again. “ Just stick around, have fun. It should keep Hugo toned and worried, but I have a feeling by the time this night ends, you’ll get to have your fun. Your records speak for your fists, Gustav,” A pat was put onto Messer’s shoulder. “ You’re welcome to the girls as well, just keep away from the ones Hugo has an eye for. I personally want to make sure this is his last night doing any of this shit.” Hugo was going to die, but in Heinrich’s hands one of these days.

“You’re open to the house, if you need a room to ‘interrogate’ in,”Who knew what this man would get into, the bridesmaids, killing someone, Landa didn’t care tonight. He just wanted the name of the family safe and his sister safe.

[Gottfried Schmitt]

Greta continued observing the party from her little corner of the lawn, contentedly sipping at her lemonade, until a shadow darker than the shade around her interrupted what lovely serenity she had managed to cultivate there.

“Nun, Hallo erstmal. Was ist ein hübsches, junges Ding wie du daallein auf solche ein freudiges Ereignis?” ((Well, hello there. What is a pretty young thing like you doing alone on such a joyous occasion?))

She looked up, eyes narrowing instinctually as between heartbeats she switched from relaxed to defensive. The man before her stood in full Luftwaffe uniform, his distinctively piggish face covered in a sheen of sweat from the effect of sunlight on heavy cloth. Her first reaction was annoyance at this assuming little thing approaching an unknown, higher-ranking pilot with such familiarity, and she started to stand with that look still on her face before catching herself halfway through the motion. Zivile. Sie sind eine zivile heute, Greta, ((Civilian. You are a civilian today, Greta,)) she chided herself, denken Sie daran, wie man handeln. ((remember to act like one.))

Awkwardly turning the motion into an attempt to rearrange her dress, she sat again, using the moment she spent looking down to soften that automatic, hardfaced expression she had first assumed. When she looked again at the pilot before her, it was with the demeanor of any innocent little twit of a girl, albeit a somewhat confused one. “ Oh ... Guten Tag. Es tut mir leid, Sir, aber haben wir uns trafen?” ((Oh…hello. I’m sorry, sir, but have we met?))

The man took that as an invitation to sit, and Greta noted with displeasure that he smelled about as good as he looked. He leaned toward her, a plate brimming with all manner of fingerfoods tipping dangerously to one side. “ Oh noch nicht, aber ich bin sicher, wir können das leicht genug zu beheben, jetzt können wir nicht?” ((Oh not yet, but I’m sure we can remedy that easily enough, now can’t we?)) The lascivious tone he adopted at this last bit did not escape the pilot-in-disguise, and she couldn’t help but grimace at the intimation that she would be caught dead anywhere with a man like this, especially somewhere as intimate as the bedroom. As if he belonged anywhere but a sty. Of course, with a face and demeanor like that, chances were he wouldn’t find a willing sow even there.

Stifling a giggle at that thought, Greta stood with an apologetic look on her face. “Ich entschuldige mich, Sir, aber ich scheine in die Irre geführthaben.” ((I do apologize, sir, but I appear to have misled you.)) Inspiration followed this comment, and she continued, “Ich bin nicht allein heute, mein Mann ist nur mit ein wenigspät.” ((I am not alone today; my man is just running a little late.)) His obvious confusion as he tried to follow this development was priceless. He went to stand, his overfilled plate finally succumbing to gravity and tipping much of its contents on the lawn. Greta retreated further to avoid the rolling hors d’ oeuvres, hands at her mouth in a show of concern. “ Oh je, das Essen! Bleib hier, ich werde Sie etwas zu diesem Schlamassel mit zu reinigen.” ((Oh dear, your food! Stay here—I’ll get something to clean this mess with.)) Torn between dealing with the mess he’d created and further accosting the maid upon which he’d set his sights, the poor pilot spent a few seconds looking back and forth between the ground and Greta. Grinning with pleasure behind her hands at his discomfiture, she took the opportunity to turn and trot off, putting a crowd of party guests between herself and the odious pilot.

Safely out of his view, she allowed herself a genuine laugh at her success. Hopefully the promise of a jealous significant other would keep at least that one pig away. He hadn’t even questioned her lack of a ring; she wondered privately how the Luftwaffe could function as it did with men like that under its command. Taking up a station somewhat removed from the Luftwaffe side, Greta kept an eye out for more undesired company under the pretense of admiring a set of particularly fine rosebushes. At this rate, she mused, she might be better off spending the money for a ring. Then she would only have to hold up her hand to see the young men scatter before her.

[Anton Maas]

OCC: I didn’t put it into German because, meh German.

Gustav’s plainclothes must have blinded the guard, for as he pulled Gus through the crowd of arriving guests, the man in blue could only babbling on how he was a hero of the air and Gus was a coward for not enlisting. Messer paid no attention to his words, instead deeply focusing on his face so he could remember it when he decided what charge he should frame him for. Probably homosexuality

In the estate‘s large garden, the brute finally released Messer‘s arm as they stood in the crowd surrounding a SS NCO with a face from a sheet back at Headquarters.

“SS-Rottenführer Landa,” Gus spoke up towards the beaming man of the house, “I am honored and grateful that I have been invited into your home on the wedding day of your sister.” Landa shooed the mouth breather away, and Gustav stepped closer through the crowd so he could whisper, ”The name’s Messer, Gustav Messer. I’m here as a favor from the Party.”

“Ah, Messer Yes. Pleasure you came of course, your Kriminalrat spoke highly of you,” As the men walked away from the crowd to a more private area, Landa’s demeanor changed, it seemed the joy he had shown on his face was fake, as Gustav had expected from what his superior that told him earlier. Heinrich did not like his sister’s choice in husband, if she even had a choice. Landa explained what he wanted in his own words as Gus pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes to get himself a cigarette and watch the crowd over on the other side of the garden. For a moment, Gus was distracted away from what Landa was saying as he watched his luftwaffe friend attempt to chat with a woman, only to be ‘shot down’ and embarrass himself so bad that he spilled his hearty platter onto the ground. It started to look like the only way one of the “knights of the sky” could get their own fair maiden was through force.

Once Landa was finished, Messer started to walk into the mansion as he explained his plan, ”Alright, give me a moment to look things over, and then let me meet with the new groom. Maybe introduce me as an old comrade who now works in the government, or something.” He turned around and lit his cigarette, “Don’t want to scare him too much now, he’ll never show his true colors”

Inside Landa manor, Gustav quickly inspected the mansion’s old fashioned architecture and décor. Normally he wasn’t interested in that sort of thing, but even though he was planning to keep it quiet, plans didn’t always work out so if it got dangerous, he needed to know where the cover was, and what could be used as a makeshift “tool”.

After assessing the situation inside, Gustav reemerged outside. If Landa was right about Wanderland, Gus was ready to show him the error of his ways. Now he just had to find him and shadow him. And as Gustav passed a rosebush and the girl from earlier, he had an idea. The best way to become the General’s shadow was to distract him with something he was known to like.

”Good afternoon, Miss” Gus stopped to attempt to start a conversation with the girl at the rosebush. ”Do you know where the bride and groom are? I want to give them my regards.” He flicked his dying cigarette butt and grabbed the pack for a new one, ”There’re American, I won’t bore you with how I got them.” He held out the pack that came from his captured contraband stash.