Ghost Reichsmark

[Deleted]

The road was in bad condition after the tanks had rolled over it with their tracks chewing up the dirt. Not only that but there had been several bombs that had fallen in the area and some had hit the road, not rendering it useless but they did enough damage to give whoever passed along it a very uncomfortable ride. Jace bounced with the rest of the men in the back of the truck as they went over another large bump. A few of them where grumbling about the hard seats but most here hardened Strummenn, the storm troopers where trained to take a beating and still keep fighting, so a few bumps in the road where nothing. Jace was wondering what the Strummann where even doing here, traveling along in a busted up truck that had been commandeered from god knows where, heading towards a town that he didn’t even know the name of. He knew what his orders where, they where to reinforce a small unit that had taken a town from the Allies and hold off against any counter attack. They where to go on the defensive… Jace hated the defensive.

He leaned his head back and peered up the side of the truck, in front of them where two other trucks being lead by a small armored car, behind them where two more trucks and a second armored car. Jace’s unit had been ordered to send a few squads of Strummenn to give the town some better teeth, the rest of the men in the other trucks must be SS troops, the convoy had been joined by the other trucks slowly over the course of the trip, and now they totaled seven, five trucks packed with men and two armoured cars. He corrected himself, four trucks with men, and one with fresh ammunition and weapons. Jace looked at his Mauser as it stood between his legs, strong and proud and ready to send death to whoever was unlucky enough to be caught in her sights. He wanted to put the bayonet on her, but knew it was a bad idea; he loved seeing the weapon with the bayonet attached and he stroked the handle of the sheathed blade that was strapped to his leg.

It was a good thing he didn’t have the blade attached, as few seconds later the engine cut out and the truck lurched violently, the men in the back where thrown on top of each other as the truck came to a sudden halt. Jace untangled himself from the other men quickly, he was uncomfortable with them on him and he returned to his seat, looking out over the side to see what had happened. One of the men was talking to the driver and Jace listened in, apparently they had run out of petrol and the truck had died when it was heading towards a crater, without power in the wheels to push the truck out of the way, it had slammed into the hole. The driver was pulling a large fuel canister out from under the cargo bed where the men where sitting and hefted it onto his shoulder, one of the soldiers jumped down to help him get the cap off the tank and pour the fuel in. It wasn’t much, but maybe it would get them to the town. The Convoy had come to a halt but not before the other trucks had passed by, the men in the other trucks where jeering at the Strummenn as they rolled past and the Strummenn responded with some colorful language.

As Jace watched the trucks go past one of the faces of the other men caught his attention, he looked familiar but he couldn’t place it. It was only a glance so it wasn’t much to go on, but Jace was sure that he knew that face. The armored car pulled up behind the Strummenn truck and waited patiently, it seemed that Jace’s truck was to take the tail of the convoy. Jace was racking his memory, trying to put that face to a time and place. But he was having no luck, not with such a quick glimpse. Once they arrived at the town he would be able to find out where he knew that face. The driver had finished refueling and stored the empty canister back under the cargo bed. The other soldier climbed back in and the truck groaned back into life, the convoy was on the move again and it wouldn’t be much longer before they got to the town.

[Casper Heniz]

The road towards the town they were heading was long and bumpy. They’d been in the convoy of trucks for a while and Casper was becoming stiff. The SS vehicles were not as bad as the vehicles of the other unit – The Strumenn were hardened souls and all the SS friends of Casper’s had told him to stay away from them. They had sat in silence for most of the journey, Casper had attempted at small talk but it hadn’t worked. The man to the right of him was tired and had fallen asleep, his head on Casper’s shoulder. The convoy suddenly stopped, Casper looked up and saw that the Strumann vehicle had decided to run out of fuel – that would teach those men to take more care of their vehicles.

As his vehicle passed by, Casper found himself going along with the rest of the men – shouting and jeering at the Strumenn’s plight until he caught sight of someone – a face he recognised from the old days. He stopped and stared at the man but the vehicle had gone too far ahead for him to get a proper look. He sat back on his seat and tried to think where he’d seen him before – it was too quick to see properly – he’d wait until they got to the town. The road twisted round for another few minutes until finally the sight of houses came into view. They were on the defensive starting the day after tomorrow. Casper’s unit and the Strumenn would hold the town when the other unit went back to rest. Apparently, the Allies were weak here – so why was he here? The convoy came to a halt outside what looked like an old-town-hall. The men got out, and began to unload the weapons. Casper helped, taking them into the hall and back again, watching out for the man he’d noticed. The sun was setting gradually – casting an orange glow over the men.

Casper saw the rest of his unit retreating into the hall; he followed them, taking off his helmet and sitting down on a chair in the corner. He ruffled his hair – it was shorter now – his face was worn out, his eyes had rings around them – he was exhausted. He sighed and stood up again as he watched superiors coming into the room – barking orders. Casper was sent back out into the fading sun; he stood and stared at the buildings around him. He walked a few paces towards the left of the building, down a street. He had forgotten his helmet he realised and turned, about to head back to the hall to get it. All was quiet now.

[Deleted]

The truck containing the Sturmmann soldiers pulled up a littler further away from the SS soldiers. Even though they where part of the same army and had to work together, the Sturmmann where storm troopers, assault men who took the fight to the enemy. They where more often then not violent men by nature, eager to pick fights and where at times a little difficult to control. It was easier to keep them separate from the other soldiers, saved on headaches and unnecessary shootings for disrupting the order of things. They often worked in small flanking teams that skirted around and infiltrated the enemies’ side or rear, they where quick on their feet, lightly armed, and brutal beyond measure.

This is why Jace fit in so well with them. Being a former Ustashi member, he was no more at home then he when he was covering his hands with fresh blood. But at the moment there was no blood, no gore or action, no bullets flying through the air. Not yet anyway. As the men jumped down from their truck their commanding officer started shouting orders, without even thinking the men lined up in two rows nest to the truck as their commander paced back and forth in front of them. He was just shouting the usual rules whenever Jace and the others where put into a new area. No fighting with the other soldiers, no shouting, no unnecessary violence, blah blah blah. Jace had tuned out and was thinking about the man in the other truck. Still trying to put a name to that face.

Once the commander had finished shouting the men clicked their heels and saluted, giving a rough shout of “Jawohl
Kommandant“ The commander gave them a dismissive wave and the men marched off towards a small church while the SS troops had a hall to call home. The church was damaged by shelling but had been declared serviceable as a barracks. Jace was watching the entrance to the hall, trying to spot the man he had seen in the truck. He couldn't pick him out from this distance so decided to take a closer look. He made up some story about going for a piss and broke off from the other men as they went into the church. Already he could hear the commander shouting at them inside, telling them they would be doing nightly patrols through the outskirts of the town while the SS where too look after the heart of it. That’d be right, Jace thought, the squishy SS boys get to sit tight in the center of town while the Sturmmann blokes had to wander the streets looking for infiltrators. It made sense though, a perimeter would have been set up around the town to keep an eye out for any counter-attack from the allies. But there were always gaps in the defensive lines, just large enough for a small team to sneak in and cause some trouble.

He would worry about that when it came to it, right now he wanted to find out who this familiar face was. What luck, the boy was walking out of the hall and headed left down the street. Jace was approaching from the right, coming up behind him, he had no intention of calling out and when the man turned Jace was only a few steps away. Silly SS boys, far too relaxed. He scanned the boys face again, this time much closer, he took in the SS solider as a whole. He was skinny, a little shorter then Jace but not much, he was younger too and would probably be a good looking bloke if he didn’t look so run down and exhausted. Jace’s own features had changed rather dramatically, his receding hairline had gone even further back giving him a large looking forehead, the stubble didn't help to sooth the rough edges of his face, and his eyes where now cold and dead, devoid of all but the most basic and primal emotions. It was a face that had seen death and pain for many years and was now hard as stone.

As Jace stared at the boy, not speaking, not moving, a blurred image flowed like a mist across his mind. A memory that seemed like a life time ago. Jace inhaled sharply as he whispered a name. “Casper?“ Jace’s eyes darted all over the boys body before returning to his face. Could this be that boy? From Berlin? There was one way to know for sure, Jace remembered scars. “Du hast Narben Junge?“


Translation:
Jawohl Kommandant - Yes Sir commander.
Du hast Narben Junge? – You got scars boy?

[Casper Heniz]

Casper jumped when he saw the man behind him; he was about to side step him when he stopped. The man was scanning his body – every inch. He was taller than he; his face was worn but held the expression of a stone. One would not mess with a man like this one. The man in front of him was one of the rougher lot – the ones in the church. Casper moved quickly, as if ignoring the man; he did not want to talk to him even if he did know him. He didn’t want to bring up the past. But no. That wasn’t going to happen.

The Strumann whispered his name – ”Casper” –in a low voice. The boy stopped and glanced back at the man – he looked closer, seeing the features that were still the same, and the ones that weren’t. Was this that scared looking man he’d had sex with one night in Berlin? It was only once....the man was nervous....he’d been careful....caring. Here, here if indeed it was the man, he was different. He looked so different, so hard and cold. He stared into those eyes – the dark holes which had once filled with hope and life were now empty – dark. Casper gulped, looking around – no one was about, they were all getting orders from their superiors. Casper stepped away from the man, shaking his head. Confused.

”Du hast Narben Junge?” scars? Yes, yes, he still had the scars on his back. He frowned, again staring at the man to see if he was really that Polish man from all those years ago. He nodded slowly, feeling his back automatically as he did so. This man must be that man, Jace? Was it Jace? He couldn’t really remember – no it was! He remembered he’d seen the name tag on the man’s shirt. He didn’t know quite what to do, he felt frozen to the spot. ” Ja. Auf meinem Rücken.” He said quietly, his voice soft still as it had been all those years ago. ” Sie sind Jace, ja?” he pointed at him, slightly bewildered but it all. What a coincidence.


Translations:
Yes, on my back
You are Jace, yes?

[Deleted]

It was confirmed, this boy, no, this young man now, was Casper. The boy who a drunken Jace had taken back to his hotel room on the night of the Olympics. That was the first night that changed Jace’s life. Not only did he commit his first real sin, but also it was due to that night that Jace was where he was now. He had been able to trace it back, when he felt so inclined to question why he was doing what he was doing. Because he had to hire a girl to lie in his bed to avoid being beaten and most likely killed, Jace hadn’t had enough money to make the trip back home. Crossing the border had been easy, but the long trek back to Krakow had seen him in dire need. He had heard of the political banning of the Croatian Revolutionary Movement and had already been a sympathizer for them, eventually he had sought them out on his travels wishing to aid them in crating a Greater Croatia. Thus he became a member of the Ustashi. The years in their service had not been kind to Jace, but he found himself warming to their ways, the murders and beatings of their enemies gave him a strength he had not known before.

Jace continued staring at Casper, he had scars on his back, what was it the boy had said when Jace had questioned him? ” Männer können rau sein.” He whispered those words just after Casper had asked if he was Jace. He nodded and rubbed his thumb and index finger together. What was he to do now? This boy was sin incarnate, but Jace couldn’t say anything without incriminating himself. He realized he was tense, coiled up like a snake about to strike, even his fists where clenched and he forced them to open. He couldn’t attack the boy, not without bringing a large punishment upon himself; his mind was racing as he considered what to do. Maybe he should just do nothing? Casper wouldn’t report him; he couldn’t, not without getting himself shot as well. Jace had thought he had left all of his past behind, and yet here was the turning point, standing right in front of him.

The uniform showed the SS-Rottenführer standards. The boy outranked him? How could this be? Jace needed to get away, he needed time to think, to figure out what to do, if anything. His first instincts were to pull his bayonet from its sheath and drive it into Casper’s throat, but that would solve nothing and it would only get him shot for his trouble. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing? Then he would die without anyone knowing what had happened between them. It was tempting, but he controlled himself and instead of plunging his blade into the boy he sidestepped him and walked past, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along for a bit, indicating that Casper should follow him down the street, away from prying eyes, and ears. He didn’t know what to do, maybe if he just spoke to him, found out what his intentions where here. Was he just a part of the SS troops who where stationed in the hall, or had he heard of Jace’s actions as a Sturmmann and had followed him here, in an attempt to sabotage him? Jace’s paranoia was kicking into gear and he whispered through clenched teeth at the boy. “Was machst du hier?






Translation:
Männer können rau sein – Men can be rough.

Was machst du hier? – What are you doing here?

[Casper Heniz]

This was creepy – Jace kept on staring. Casper saw the changed man in front of him, and he felt scared. This man could be dangerous now. He had begun to whisper words – words that Casper himself had said all those years ago – well, it was true – the men had been rough. Casper frowned and cocked his head to one side, watching Jace’s movements. He saw the similar thumb to index finger movement, that hadn’t changed at least. There was tension there, in the shoulders, in the face, in the chest. The man looked like he could attack at any moment and Casper glanced around to see if there was any available hiding place or escape route if that was needed.

The one good thing was that Casper outranked him, he was the superior one just like in the hotel room in Berlin. It may not have made much difference, but here, here it did. Jace moved and grabbed his arm, walking past him and pulling him along. Casper followed, pushing Jace away from him as they went down the street. ” Holen Sie sich ab.” he growled, shoving him away. Before he did so, he heard Jace speak – “Was machst du hier?” – umm....was that not obvious?!

Casper laughed slightly, chuckling. ”Hier für einen Urlaub.” he grinned at Jace, trying to make light of the situation but the grin faded as quickly as it had appeared. ” Ich bin für mein Land kämpfen .... manchmal sehe ich nicht warum, aber ....” he muttered and trailed off. He looked away and up the street – no one was around. He glanced back at Jace, stepping away, fearful of him even though he knew he could not do anything.



Translations:
Get off
Here for a holiday
I am fighting for my country....sometimes I don't see why but....

[Deleted]

He didn’t know what he should do about this; he should just turn and walk away, pretend that they didn’t know each other and hope that no one found out. Maybe that’s how this would end, but before Jace returned to the church he had to know if Casper would keep his own mouth shut. Jace didn’t doubt that he wouldn’t, for it wasn’t just his life that would be on the line, Casper’s would be too and the boy – he couldn’t stop thinking of him as a boy – didn’t seem like the suicidal type. He felt Casper push him away as he pulled him along. Perhaps he had been too rough? Too demanding? He hadn’t even started the real questioning; Jace’s Paranoia was forming all sorts of scenarios as to why Casper was here.

The laughter from Casper hit Jace like water hitting a wall, while the boy was trying to make light of the situation Jace was fully serious. He could see nothing funny about this, a part of him wondered what he was even so worked up for, that maybe he should greet Casper like an old friend, after all if it wasn’t for Casper’s seduction Jace probably wouldn’t be where he was now. That night was the first step into unknown territory, and since then Jace had gained more confidence and strode into unknown situations with a bounce in his step. He had stridden into the Ustashi and joined them, and shortly after he had strode into the Waffen-SS. Soon after he had strode into the position of Sturmmann and now spend most of his time striding into enemy positions and blowing things up.

But it was his time in the Ustashi that gave him a cause for concern now, for back in those days he had executed several hundred people much like Casper, and most of the time he kept on expecting to pull up the head of his next victim and look into the boys eyes before gouging them out. But that hadn’t happened. No, instead the boy had also joined the SS like he had and was now (reluctantly) walking beside him. The whore turned soldier, the man of love turned killer. It sounded a little poetic, and Jace made a mental note to see about putting together a short poem about it. Even killers can write poetry.

Jace was torn; he decided to get a little more information out of Casper before deciding how to treat him. He listened to Casper’s words about fighting for Germany, and took up the boys last sentence as he trailed off.
”Manchmal muss man nicht verstehen, warum Sie für Ihr Land kämpfen? Sie müssen nicht wie in Deutschland? Sie gewannen die ehemaliger Olympia erinnern?“




Translation:
Manchmal muss man nicht verstehen, warum Sie für Ihr Land kämpfen? Sie müssen nicht wie in Deutschland? Sie gewannen die ehemaliger Olympia erinnern? – Sometimes you don’t see why you are fighting for your country? Don’t you like Germany? They won the Olympic’s remember?

[Casper Heniz]

Okay, it looked like he would not be able to crack a smile on to Jace’s face today. The man was just stony faced – unmovable. Casper did not see why the man was so...different; of course, war did do that to people...

Maybe it was because of what Casper had done in the old days...Jace was so different and maybe he regretted that? But Casper didn’t see anything bad about what he had done. The Nazis did – he had made sure that he did not talk to anyone about his old life – and now someone from that old life had turned up here. Someone who he had made a big impression on; Jace could easily report him? But then he’d be incriminating himself by doing so? They would both get shot – Casper for being a homosexual and a whore; and Jace for paying him to do so. It was a vicious circle that Casper knew, Jace did not want to get involved in. Or at least, he hoped.

Casper shrugged his shoulders as Jace went off on one about not liking Germany and the Olympics. ” Natürlich, ich liebe mein Land in diesem Sinne - die Olympischen Spiele waren spannend ... Sie natürlich diejenigen erinnern ....” he smirked, nodding at Jace as he said it – the night of the Germany victory in the Olympics had been the night they’d met. He didn’t know how far Jace would take it.


Translations:
Of course, I love my country in that sense - the Olympics were exciting...of course, you remember those....

[Deleted]

“ Sie natürlich diejenigen erinnern….
“ Natürlich erinnere ich mich, wenn ich nicht würden wir jetzt nicht darüber reden, würden wir uns? Jace stopped walking and turned to face the boy, his voice had grown louder as he had spoke and he hushed it again.
” Was ich wissen möchte, ist, wenn die Handlungen dieser Nacht kommen zurück zu mir in den Arsch beißen? Sie sind das Aufspüren von Ihrem alten Kunden für die Gestapo? Oder ist dies nur ein Freak zufällige Begegnung?“

Jace had heard rumors of men who had made deals with criminals before joining the army, and then those same criminals had helped to track down the soldiers who where then punished for their involvement. Maybe the boy was doing the same sort of thing. But if he was something didn’t add up, he wouldn’t be alone. He would have men to help him. So maybe this was just a freak meeting, a complete coincidence. Still, Jace was taking no chances.

It had been a long time since Jace had thought back to that night, but the memory had stayed with him, locked somewhere in his mind. He remembered the solider who had almost caught them, the thrill it had brought to be doing something so wrong and getting away with it. Jace didn’t feel that thrill now, all he wanted to know was what Casper was doing here, was he hunting Jace, or was he simply passing by? He would find out soon enough.




Translation:
- Of course I remember, if I didn’t we wouldn’t be talking about it now would we?
- What I want to know is if the actions of that night are coming back to bite me in the ass? Are you tracking down your old clients for the Gestapo? Or is this just a freak chance meeting?

[Casper Heniz]

“ Natürlich erinnere ich mich, wenn ich nicht würden wir jetzt nicht darüber reden, würden wir uns? his voice had grown louder and Casper made a face, putting a finger to his lips as he glanced around at the empty street. Did Jace want to let the whole unit know what they were on about?! Jace had taken the sensible option and had quietened down as he spoke again.


” Was ich wissen möchte, ist, wenn die Handlungen dieser Nacht kommen zurück zu mir in den Arsch beißen? Sie sind das Aufspüren von Ihrem alten Kunden für die Gestapo? Oder ist dies nur ein Freak zufällige Begegnung?“

Casper laughed at this, chucking his head back and running a hand through his hair, sniggering. Did the man really think that?! Really?! Casper would never, ever do something like that. Hand over old clients to the Gestapo?! Yes, some had been right pricks and he wouldn’t have minded them being killed but no...ultimately, Casper did not want to get killed for what he’d done and to hand clients over would have meant he would have had to reveal himself to the Gestapo and SS. Most likely, he’d find himself chuck into the camps along with the old clients and then murdered by them...no, Casper was not that stupid – Jace had only been a one-off but what he said may have been true, but here it most certainly wasn’t.

” Glaubst du wirklich, dass ich das tun würde ....?” he stared in slight shock at Jace, shaking his head and stepping closer to him, looking at his face. He raised his hand, if Jace would allow, he would bush it against the man’s cheek before stepping away. ” Ich würde mich getötet, wenn ich zugelassen, was ich vor diesem Krieg haben.” he looked out at the street, completely empty – only the soft, muffled sounds of the men in the church and hall could be heard. ” Aber ich sage nicht, dass ich nicht genießen .... denn ich habe ..... was ich getan habe .... Ich genoss.” He wondered if Jace would understand, but things looked like they had changed now...


Teanslations:
You really think that I would do that....?

I would get killed myself if I admitted to what I did before this war
But I am not saying that I didn't enjoy it....for I did.....what I did....I enjoyed.

[Deleted]

” Glaubst du wirklich, dass ich das tun würde ....?” At the moment, yes, Jace believed that Casper could be capable of doing such a thing, but rather then outright say so, he simply muttered.
” Ich bin nur die Beseitigung Möglichkeiten.” Jace watched the boy closely, trying to read him as he laughed, the easy manner in how he was handling this, the war had changed him too it seemed. Rather then running from this confrontation like he had done in the pub, he was standing and defending himself. Making a stand as it where, Jace could respect that. But as Casper stepped towards him Jace tensed up, ready to deflect a swift strike and counter with an even faster one. Jace’s training in hand to hand combat was some of the best available to the German armies, as a Sturmmann he excelled at close quarters combat.

But the it wasn’t a quick hit, no surprise attack from the boy, Jace was ready for a fast action of violence but he was caught completely off guard by the boys slow hand as it reached out and brushed his cheek. Jace didn’t know what to do, he could grab the boys arm and twist it around, pinning him to the ground. He could grab him and pull him into an uppercut, why where all of Jace’s options violent? Perhaps it was due to the years he spent drenched in blood as one of the Ustashi. Had he really grown so cold and distant that he didn’t know how to react to a show of simple affection? Jace was glad that the boy had stepped away again; he relaxed a little, but was still unsure what he should do. He was so bad at this sort of thing, all he had come to understand was violence, the way of battle and blood. No softness, no affection, no love, just harsh words and cold steel.

Casper was speaking again, about dieing if he was ever found out. That was true, the boy would defiantly die, and it wouldn’t be an easy death either. Jace had executed many people like Casper, and each time he had drawn it out for as long as he could. Still he listened while Casper spoke. Jace wondered why the boy was so different, why he had done the things he had done. Jace knew the answer of course, cause he had done those things too. But afterwards Jace had felt as if he had been with a woman, it didn’t feel wrong at the time, now was a different story though, and if Jace had found another like Casper, he would be dragged away and locked up before being beaten to death. But could he do that to Casper? Probably not, at least not without giving away his own involvement with the boy. He couldn’t do that.

He thought for a moment about what he should do, he was about to just walk away but decided against it, instead he spoke up.
” Ich danke Ihnen wahrscheinlich, wissen Sie. Wenn ich nicht von Ihnen kennengelernt hatte ich jetzt nicht hier..“ Jace had enjoyed the killings. He had never before felt like he had belonged to anything. Now he was part of the largest conflict the world had ever seen, and he was having the time of his life.


Translation:
- I’m just eliminating possibilities
I should probably thank you, you know. If I hadn't of met you I wouldn’t be here now.

[Casper Heniz]

Eliminating possibilities – fair enough. If that was what Jace wanted to do then fine – but Casper wanted to ask his own questions. He wanted to know why Jace was so different. The nervous man, who had so gently been lead into another world by Casper, was now the man of many people’s nightmares. Or at least, Casper had a feeling he was in many people’s nightmares. The eyes were cold, like pits; they looked like they’d seen death and destruction...not the eyes of the innocent man in the pub all those years ago.


Jace spoke again, after a few seconds of silence. ”Ich danke Ihnen wahrscheinlich, wissen Sie. Wenn ich nicht von Ihnen kennengelernt hatte ich jetzt nicht hier.” – thank Casper? In these times, it was a very shocking statement. So, Casper was the person who had turned Jace into this stoneless heart of steel? No....no....Casper shrugged his shoulders, stepping away. ” Ich denke ....” he did not really know what to say. He didn’t know how Jace would take it anyway. He had had countless number of sexual intercourses with men...and women....but this one stayed in the memory....probably because, if they had been together longer then Casper may had fallen for him more. There was something about him, something kind back then....but it was not present now...

” Bitte sagen Sie nichts über mich .... was ich tat damals ...” His eyes were pleading eyes; he did not want to die....he did not want to get murdered like the stories he had heard. Maybe in a way then he would be out of this mess and away from it all. For some reason, however, he did not like the idea of getting beaten to death. He had heard stories of how “his kind” who had carried on and who had ignored the warnings had been treated. He looked at Jace, stepping closer and taking hold of his hand, if he’d allow, gripping it and suddenly looking younger again – like a boy who had done something bad but did not want to be found out.



Translations:

I guess....

Please do not say anything about me.....about what I did back then....

[Deleted]

” Bitte sagen Sie nichts über mich .... was ich tat damals ...”
Of course Jace wouldn’t tell, he had just been trying to find out if Casper would tell on him.
“Ich werde nicht sagen. Ich würde auch erschossen werden.”
Casper had been Jace’s only experience with a male, he had not gotten another chance to try it again and he simply put the incident down to a drunken mistake. He had made mistakes like that before, gotten drunk and picked up a hooker. Normally the mistake was getting an expensive one and having to fork out most of his money. Well, Casper had only charged him 40, but that night had cost Jace a lot more. If only that German bastard hadn’t come looking for them, if only the cleaner hadn’t charged him so much. ‘If Only’ never solved anything.

The boy had taken his hand and was holding it firmly, Jace was tempted to rip it from Casper’s grip but he didn’t. He wondered what would have happened if he had of found the boy while he was in the Ustashi. He thought he would have the strength to do what he would have to do, but now he couldn’t even bring himself to hit the boy. What would have happened if Casper had come under Jace’s knife? Jace was would have frozen up, been unable to make the stab and that would have given him away, they would have questioned, they would have found out and Jace would have been executed along with Casper. No, it was a good thing they hadn’t found him, it was good that the boy had made it out, and was now fighting for his country. Strange how Jace’s thoughts could change so dramatically just from having Casper hold his hand.

Maybe the physical contact was a link back to before he had joined the Ustashi. Casper looked like he did all those years ago; he looked so young and afraid. How many young and afraid people had Jace killed over the years? It had never bothered him before, in fact he had laughed at them, toyed with their screams and their flesh. But this was the first person he had met who he knew from the old days, the first person that knew him as he once was. Too bad that person had died long ago.

“Ich werde mich nicht jemand sagen. Wir werden handeln wie es geschah nicht, und wenn jemand fragt, wie wir einander sagen wir, dass wir alte Freunde sind, weiß. Nichts mehr.” Yes, that would work. There where plenty of people in the army who knew other soldiers from before the war, they had gone to school together, or worked together, or something else like that. They would never tell what had happened between them, simply because it would mean their deaths.






Translate:
- I will not say anything. I would be shot too.
- I am not going to tell anyone. We will act like it didn't happen and if anyone asks about how we know each other we will say that we are old friends. Nothing more.

[Nathan Whyte]

Rosewic: 8CP
Heniz: 6CP