Aerials [O]

[Aaron Hroda Schellenburg]

Country: Occupied France
Area/Setting: Le Havre, France. Sitting at downtown cafe near the port front.
Current Time: 1000 hours
Weather Conditions: Partly sunny, a bit cool.
Date: July 11, 1944

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He didn't remember how he got to this point. Despite the more-or-less peaceful atmosphere that surrounded him Aaron's mind was far from the quiet place. Since skating by with his life back in Bruges and becoming apart of a very active Partisan network in France he had only known 'keep running'. At first he did not mind being settled in one place for a long period of time, but since being separated from Le Spectre he felt like a fish out of water. He felt vulnerable and exposed. He always lied to himself into believing that he knew what he was doing- knowing enough to support himself without a partner. He kept Jean Luc's warning to 'always run' close to his soul.

Now here he sat at a tiny bistro in occupied France, hunched over by himself over the small table smoking a cigarette and just watching. He knew that he should not have been alive for this long. Hell he was a German-Jew with blood on his hands, he knew that he was an open target and also a wanted face.

"Bonjour monsieur que puis-je recevoir pour vous?"

A male voice broke his silence and nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. Through his haze he titled his head up a bit to see a male waiter. Clearing his throat he answered,

"Eh, juste un café... noir."

Aaron simply waved him off as the waiter gave a slight bow and left. At least he had his ability to speak French and shoot a gun to fall back on. It was a trade-off he and Jean Luc did back in Germany. Aaron taught him German while the other taught him French. Honestly it saved his life on more occasions than one. With a sigh, Aaron continued to look around as he continued to inhale the toxic carcinogens that did nothing to calm his nerves. Someone was watching him, he felt it.

"Votre café monsieur."

Giving a nod, the waiter went along his way to tend to the other early customers. Pulling his cigarette out, he scrapped the burning cigarette along the top of the table before exhaling the last remnants of smoke. Staring a bit at the dark pool of coffee before taking a sip of it. The bitterness he was used to as his body warmed up and radiated with each sip. His eyes were still trained as he could not help but to feel a rush of anxiety with each passing Nazi. 'Someone is going to figure me out.' His brain kept spilling over that issue, it wouldn't shut up long enough to enjoy the surroundings. He didn't have any papers that were up to date but that Luger he stole years before from a SS officer was still on his hip.

Heightened anxiety controlled him as he cut his morning coffee short and placed the money on the table and began walking. 'Maybe moving around would make me feel a bit better.' He kept his eyes leveled, he eventually fished out another loose cigarette as he pulled out his zippo and set it alight. He never smoked before meeting Le Spectre, that French bastard got him hooked onto his habit- but he couldn't complain too much it did bring some of the internal tension down.

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ooc; just a small open thread. feel free to join in if you want.

translations;

"Bonjour monsieur que puis-je recevoir pour vous?" -- "Hello sir what can I get for you?"

"Eh, juste un café... noir." -- "Eh, just a coffee... black."

"Votre café monsieur." -- "Your coffee sir."

[Matteus von Haldor Valdemar]

The clouds where a welcome sight. It wasn’t that Matteus disliked clear blue skies and warm day, but he preferred it overcast and he hoped the clouds would thicken and spread. He pulled his head in from the truck window and glanced at Royce, his driver.

‘Sie, in diesem Bereich besser als ich. Wie weit ist es zu dieser Café’ -- You know this area better than me. How much further is it to this café?

‘Es ist an der nächsten Ecke. Lorthar sollte immer noch beobachtete ihn sein.’ -- It is on the next corner. Lorthar should still be watching him.

Royce's voice was filled with irritation. He did not like repeating himself and this was the fourth time Matteus had asked. Matteus knew this, and thought about asking a fifth time just to twist the screw a little more. He enjoyed tormenting the Austrian, but decided against it. The café came into view slowly and Matteus started scanning the street opposite it for Lorthar. A rap on the back of the cab made him turn in his seat to look back through the glassless window into the cargo bed of the truck where Artur and Georg were sitting. It was the Artur who had knocked on the cab and now he pointed into the crowd of people filling the sidewalk. Matteus followed his finger and spotted Lorthar casually strolling along the opposite way the truck was going.

‘Das Ziel muss in Bewegung sein.’ -- The target must be on the move.

Artur's German rough due to his Russian accent. Royce was already pulling the truck over so he could pull a U-turn, as he slowed Matteus signaled the others to deploy and dropped out of the cab of the truck. He quickly marched over to Lorthar and fell into step beside him, adopting a casual stroll while Artur and Georg crossed to the opposite side of the street and increased their pace, their larger weapons swapped out for lugers. Even though they did not know who exactly they were hunting, they would get far enough ahead to be certain of being in front of the target. Matteus scanned the crowd but could not pick who Lorthar was stalking without asking. Normally he was pretty good at picking out the targets his men had identified. Normally if Matteus could identify the target without being told, the stalker would buy the first round of shots at the end of the hunt. If he couldn’t, he would have to pay. After a moment he sighed and muttered,

‘Okay, gewinnen Sie. Welches ist es?’ -- Alright, you win. Which one is it?

‘Der in der dunklen Mantel mit der Zigarette.’ -- The one in the dark coat with the cigarette.

Lorthar was not rookie enough to point at the target, the description would be enough as there was only one man with a dark coat and a cigarette who Lorthar was keeping pace with. Matteus nodded and checked to make sure his truncheon was in his pocket, his enfield revolver was tucked neatly away under his coat and he hoped he would not have to use it. Royce was having a little trouble with the traffic and had fallen behind a bit in the truck. Matteus was reluctant to launch the strike without the truck being there to bundle the target into straight away. It was not neat enough for his liking. As soon as Royce had the truck alongside them, they would make their move.