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after slim and wiley left, the general took his time finishing his cigar.
there was a small lamp on the table beside the armchair, and when he heard the sound of the deuce and a half leaving, he turned the light up a little bit.
the indian was now visible in the shadows beside the fireplace.
“find goldbrick,” the general told the indian. “wake him up if you have to.“
“goldbrick likes his sleep,” the indian replied solemnly.
the general laughed. “be that as it may, do what you must to wake him up. the two of you get ready to move out again - just the three of us. we will leave the second jeep behind. make sure there is no gas in it."
“what about sarge and the other two?”
“they are gone. forget they ever existed.”
the indian nodded. “how soon will we move out?”
“in about an hour. we will give our former friends some time to get down the road.”
*
slim walked up to the front door of the chateau. he looked around. not that he could really tell in the dark, but the place at least did not look like it had been completely trashed. maybe the krauts had not even touched it.
he pushed at the heavy door. it opened smoothly.
he gave himself half a minute to let his eyes adjust to the dark, then moved inside.
he knew right away that there was someone in the darkness, and no sooner had he sensed this than a match was lit about fifteen feet in front of him, blinding him for a second.
the match lit a lamp, and slim saw, just as he had hoped, that the hand holding the match belonged to a woman.
“hello, there,” the woman said.
“hello, yourself.” slim considered the woman. she was not as young as she might have been, but what the hell, it was wartime, you had to take the bad with the good.
“what is in the bag?” the woman asked.
slim looked down at the sack in his hand. “food. and cigarettes. “
“ah - food.”
“not excactly home cooked.meals like mama used to make. but look here, aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“you already are in, aren’t you? but i am being a bad hostess.“ the woman pointed to some chairs and couches. “please, make yourself confortable. take a load off, as you americans say. you are an american, are you not?”
“yeah, i was born on the fourth of july. and on washington’s birthday too.” slim looked around and saw that the room he was in was pretty cluttered with furniture.
and there was a huge fireplace, but it was completely dark and cold.
slim sat down on a small sofa. “i am so glad you are an american,” the woman was saying. “and not an englishman, with their nasty red faces and their awful cigarettes.”
“yeah,” slim agreed. “say, how about a little light in here?” he was pretty sure there was no one else in the room, or the house, but he wanted to make sure.
“we have quite enough light,” the woman said. “i can hear you perfectly well. in fact, i think i will turn the light down a little bit.” and she fiddled with the lamp and turned it down.
slim could now barely see her. “are you a countess?” he asked.
“of course. what else would i be? would you like to give me a cigarette?”
“sure, baby, help yourself.” slim reached into the sack and took out a carton of lucky strikes and tossed it onto a chair beside the one the countess was sitting in.
“ah - a true american gentleman. however, i do not care to be addressed as ‘baby’ even by an american gentleman. it is ‘madam’, if you please.”
“sure - madam. and you can call me whatever you like, as long as you don’t call me late for dinner.”
“tell me, sir american gentleman, are you on some sort of secret mission?”
“uh - not exactly.”
“not exactly?” the countess began opening the carton of luckies.
“i’m on what you might call my own secret mission.”
“of course. i understand.”
14. big trouble
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