REALITY TASTES OF ASHES
Having survived a murder attempt by Major Laska while weak in his hospital bed, Major Richard Blaine passes out ... to awaken to what new peril?
REALITY TASTES OF ASHES
“The good thing about passing outwas that I would no longer see the impossible.”
- Major Richard Blaine
Like a reverse eclipse,consciousness oozed like a sluggard sun to grudgingly confer awareness in amanner of which Silas Mariner would have been proud.
No starting gun, no overture, nointroductory speaker. I should have known right then that I was out of mydepth. Without pause or preamble, silent as the orbits of planets, a piece of mymind came back to me.
I kept my eyes closed. Why askfor questions to which my answers would only get me committed.
The same nurse spoke … butwearily, and I deduced it was towards the end of her shift.
“Did you arrest Major Laska, General?”
The gruff voice of General OmarBradley sighed, “On what charge, Nurse Reynolds?”
“What charge?” snapped Sgt.Savalas from beside my bed. “He tried to kill Rick, ah, Major Blaine in hissleep.”
“Nurse Reynolds said there was noname badge nor rank insignia to the soldier she saw.”
“But the dagger I gave thatmilitary policeman ….””
Bradley grunted, “Military Policestate they have no record of a Lt. Dunwich serving on this base.”
Sgt. Savalas growled, “That skunk….”
Bradley interrupted him. “MajorLaska you mean, sergeant.”
I sensed a body lean over my bodyand caught a whiff of expensive perfume. “I am sure he will be caught, Theo.”
Theo, was it? I cracked oneeyelid to get a peek. Merde. Nurse Reynolds looked amazingly like Heddy Lamarfor whom Sgt. Savalas had a fierce crush.
“You’re right, Rachel.”
Rachel? Maybe Laska trying tokill me was not all bad? As so often in my checkered, bruised life, I waswrong.
“No, sergeant, she is not. MajorLaska, citing a family medical emergency, left by air back to Washington, D.C.”
“Why that, dirty ….”
Great Father of us all, grant methe strength to keep Theo from getting those stripes torn off. I reached deepwithin myself and managed to weakly tap on his thick fingers grasping my bedrailing.
“He’ll … get his … Theo.”
“You’re awake!”
General Bradley husked, “Son,I’ve seen corpses look livelier.”
“General!” chided Nurse Reynolds.
I caught her stunning emeraldeyes seeming to glow in her translucent fair skin with my own stinging ones.“Laska ….”
The general looked to be about tochide me for leaving off the man’s rank but pulled back.
“ … is amoral … cunning …tenacious … connected. He … will get …all for which … he plots. Sad … for it will ….”
Breath failed me, but the nursepatted the back of my bloody, bruised left hand. “Not be enough. Yes, I haveknown such men. He will forever be frustrated. Every triumph will turn toashes. No victory can mend a broken mind.”
The curtain over my mind rose abit. “That … folder I stole … from Rommel’s desk … did ….”
Bradley smiled sadly. “Yes, son,we got it. How the h ….”
He flicked dark eyes to the nurseand changed gears verbally “… heck did you get that Waffenrock (military coat)and that folder strapped across your back, much less swim half the EnglishChannel?”
I must have looked my puzzlement,for Theo, voice thick with unshed tears, smiled of salt, “A patrol boat foundyou paddling weakly like some battered robot, refusing to give up.”
“I feel … the battered part.”
Some imp blew out the candle ofmy mind.
Awakening the second time bore asmuch resemblance to the first time as kissing a woman does to marrying her, oras flying in an airplane does to falling out of it. Although the one experienceprecedes the other, it in no way prepares you for it.
The air was black, cold as ifsomeone were standing between me and a campfire. The blackbirds of my thoughtsflew in haphazard fashion back to their roosts to nudge me awake.
Someone sat on my bed, bendingthe mattress only slightly.
If it was Laska, I was a deadman. I had no strength to fight.
“Strewth, mate. I’ve returnedsteaks to the chef as overcooked that looked better than you.”
“Sweet … talker.”
Something that felt like rich heavywool was pressed into my trembling hands. There was a soft fur collar to it.Rommel’s Waffenrock. I smiled weakly. I somehow wanted it back badly and wasglad to get it.
“Stone the crows, mate. I’vestolen diamonds that were easier to lift than that long coat, but that patheticsmile made it all worthwhile.”
Sentient murmured within my mind,
‘MI6 operative, JamesCloverfield. He seems to have taken an odd liking to you ever since writing hisreport on you.’
“Thanks … Cloverfield.”
“What? Oh, that bloody still,small voice, is it? Well, save that labored breath. I’ve a bit of odds and sodsto tell you and precious little time to do it.”
“Not … going … anywhere.”
“If Rear Admiral Ramsey has hisway, you will … along with the rest of your ‘Spartan 3oo.’ Strewth, mate, youcannot tell a man like that ‘Bollocks!’ and get away unscathed.”
“Didn’t.”
“In his mind you did, and that isall that matters to a man with influence and clout like his.”
I smiled coldly. “They don’t …make them … like him … anymore … but just to be … on the safe side … he tasksme … I’ll castrate him.”
Cloverfield shook my shoulderhard. “You can’t be talking like that in front of a MI6 agent!”
“Report me … word for word …He’ll be laughed … out of Whitehall … Never live … it … down.”
Cloverfield snorted, “No, chum, Ido not think he would. So, for the best of all involved, I’ll stay mum.”
My chin sagged to my chest. “Imiss … the familiar … corruption … of New Orleans … the street people … Iknew.”
“The honest … thievery … ofstraightforward … scoundrels.”
“Are you fading on me, old boy?”
“Yes.”
He slapped my left cheek. Hard.“Wakey, wakey. I haven’t told you about your invalid president siccing theF.B.I on your lovely Helen Mayfair yet.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
“Thought that would do it. Yes. Blimey,seems like Rommel got word that miraculously you survived the fall from hislovely chateau window and made it to the coast somehow.”
“Have … no recollection … of it.”
“No wonder, mate. You were beatennear to death.”
I saw him dimly in the darkness pinsomething to my pillow. “It was reported that as you dived into the channel youcried, ‘il ne faut jurer de rien!”
“Never say never?”
“Yes. It’s gotten to be prettymuch of a rallying cry in the FrenchResistance … especially when it was reported you actually made it to England.”
“I would have … drowned but … forthe patrol … boat.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But De Gaulleneeds all the heroes he can get. So, that medal I just pinned on your pillow isthe French Croix de Guerre with palm.”
“I’m … no hero.’
“So says every hero.”
He bent and pinned a huge medalon the other side of my pillow. “Now this little beauty is what got oldRoosevelt to sic the F.B.I. on Helen Mayfair.”
“Why?”
“Rommel figured you’d drown inthe Channel. Seems you made quite the impression on him. It bothered him thatyour lady would never know you died a hero.’
‘I’m no ….”
“I know. Let me finish, will you?Through a diplomatic courier to Switzerland and then to New Orleans, he sent ahandwritten note praising you, along with his own Iron Cross, and the drawingyou made of her in his presence.”
I saw him shake his head in thedarkness. “Gods, the two of you chatting and drawing.”
“After the beating.”
“Bloody hell.”
“My thoughts … exactly.”
“Any way, it’s said Miss Mayfairdidn’t leave her bedroom for a week. And when she did, the F.B.I. was waitingfor her at the foot of the stairs.”
“Merde.”
“You want to know what her firstwords were to them?”
I smiled wearily. “Oh,excellent. Somebody… for me to … kill.”
“Bloody hell! How did you know?
“I know … my Helen.”
There was a rustle of a starchedskirt, and Nurse Reynolds rushed in. Her face beaming of translucence remindedme of Helen’s. It brought to mind something I had read by Pablo Neruda in theorphanage library where Helen and I had worked alone together for thatwonderful, deadly year.
“As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining ofyour skin.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Just leaving actually,” laughedCloverfield.
“Then, leave by the windowyonder. General Eisenhower and his two bodyguards are on the way to this room.Major Blaine is in enough trouble as it is without unauthorized visitors.”
Cloverfield slapped his foreheadwith an open palm. “Bother! That’s the other thing I meant to tell you, Blaine:General Eisenhower is on his way here to kill you.”
