Another special assignment

I’m ready for some sleep and a hot meal when I return from my boring shift at the dam. Nothing changes there. When I return to Lyudmila’s house, I see Dmitriev reporting in to Clarke, who nods his head as he listens. He pounds his fist on the kitchen table. Dmitriev leaves and I approach them.

“That motherfucker!” Clarke curses.

“What did he tell you?” Hobbs asks.

“He told me that security around the bridge was heightened today. How convenient! We ought to kill him tomorrow morning, that Nazi prick!”

“With all due respect, sir, whichever course of action we decide to take, we must be positive that we are making the right decision.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“We meet with him as planned, and give him a chance to explain himself.”

“Sure, I’ll meet with him.” Clarke says. “But I want a half a dozen rifles pointed at his fucking head. If only there was a way that we could know for sure.”

“Maybe a bug, sir.” Hobbs suggests.

“Bug?” I ask. “What is bug?”

“A listening device.” Hobbs explains, and begins to dig through the small bag he carries with him. “Aha.”

He produces a small device and places it down on the table.

“We hide this somewhere, ideally where Krueger reports. Ideally, in their commander’s office.”

“Sure!” Clarke laughs. “Let’s just walk right in there and tape it under the desk, maybe Krueger can give us the key!”

“I am aware of the difficulty of such a mission.” Hobbs assures him. “Obviously, the Germans take their security very seriously. No man is going to sneak into their garrison and come out alive.”

“No man.” Clarke says, a grin crossing his face. The two of them look at me.

“You not serious.” I tell them,

“Oh come on!” Clarke urges me. “He already has the hots for you, you just have to show up at that bar, jerk him off or something and have him bring you back! Easy.”

“Easy? How I supposed to plant bug while Krueger try to rub aryan bratwurst on me?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke says. “Get him drunk and wait for him to pass out.”

“Or.” Hobbs says. The sound of him placing a small vial down on the table turns both of our heads. “Make him pass out.”

“Maybe I hit him in head with cooking pan.” I suggest.

“I don’t think that would end very well for you.” Hobbs says. “This is chloroform. You just put a little bit on something that’s going to touch his mouth.”

“Like a cigarette.” Clarke chimes in. “Krueger smokes. Just swipe them and go to the bathroom or something, then lace one and offer it to him.”

“That is smart plan.” I tell him.

“Of course it’s a smart plan, it’s fucking genius!”

“This takes about five minutes to work.” Hobbs chimes in. “Give it to him, then wait. It will only be a matter of time.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll meet with Krueger tomorrow morning.” Clarke says before turning to me. “And you’ll meet him tomorrow night.”