Righteous Sniper

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Cole scanned the area, but there was no sign of the German. Bauer had disappeared so quickly that Cole half expected him to suddenly materialize again out of thin air.

But no such luck — the German was truly gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Cole muttered.

“He took off, didn’t he?” Vaccaro wondered.

“Unless you’ve got him hidden in your pocket, then I’d say he made a run for it.”

Cole considered what to do next. Tracking Bauer down seemed straightforward. The snow would make locating his trail easy enough, and from there it was only a matter of heading into the forest after him. Yet, as Cole contemplated the inevitable chase and confrontation, a twinge of reluctance crept in. He wasn’t sure that Bauer would give up without a fight. Despite his initial willingness to shoot the German, the thought of potentially having to pull the trigger on Bauer was now less appealing. It was a hard truth to swallow, but Cole had grown to respect the man, even if he couldn’t bring himself to like him.

Cole had to admit that if the tables had been turned, he would have long since tried to escape. You couldn’t blame Bauer for finally making a run for it. Their discovering of the documents seemed to have pushed him over the edge, which made the value of what they had found only more apparent.

“We have to go after him,” Vaccaro declared, breaking into Cole’s thoughts. “He took those documents and maps, knowing full well that they were important.”

Lieutenant Rupert chimed in, “And don’t forget, he still has my revolver with him.”

“That’s why I’ll let Vaccaro go first,” Cole said.

Another choice would’ve simply been to let Bauer go, but for Cole, that was not an option. Considering that Bauer was the reason they were all out here in the first place, they really had no choice but to go after him.

As they readied themselves to head into the woods in pursuit of the German officer, a distant shout halted them. Turning toward the sound, they were taken aback to see a trio of American soldiers approaching.

“Look, it’s some of our guys,” Vaccaro observed, perplexed. “What the heck are they doing out here? They must be lost.”

Cole wished that was the case but decided that there was something familiar about the three figures. “Or maybe it’s the guys who attacked us back at the château,” he said.

Cole’s grip on his rifle tightened instinctively. His suspicions were soon confirmed as the soldiers drew near enough for their features to become discernible — it was Brock and his cronies.

They hadn’t yet aimed their weapons at Cole’s group, so Cole kept his own rifle pointed toward the ground — for now. He eyed Brock warily.

“Well, well, looks like we’ve caught up with you,” Brock announced, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Seems you’re not as quick on your feet as you thought.”

Cole finally got a closer look at the man and realized he was imposing — a real brute. Taking him down in a fistfight would be a challenge, but that was where guns came into play; they leveled the playing field. “I reckon you did catch up to us,” Cole mused. “Not so bad.”

Brock’s gaze shifted from one face to the next, his confusion apparent as he noticed the German officer was no longer among them. “I hope you’ve done the smart thing,” he said. “Maybe you went ahead and shot that damn German.”

“We sure did,” Cole replied smoothly, the lie rolling off his tongue. “Got tired of dragging his carcass through these woods. Who’s going to know the difference, right?”

Brock stared at him, suddenly skeptical. “I’ve got to say, you don’t seem like the type,” he countered. “Back at the château, you were fighting tooth and nail to protect his sorry Kraut ass. What did you really do with him?”

Before Cole could respond, Lena blurted out, “What happened to my mother? Is she all right?”

Brock’s face was hard to read. “Tell you what, little girl. You tell us what you did with the German, and I’ll tell you about your mother.”

Rupert made a gesture to stop her, but it was too late — Lena was already spilling the beans. “The German ran into the woods,” she confessed. “We were just about to go after him.”

Brock smiled with satisfaction. “That sounds more like it,” he said. “He ought to be easy enough to find. Just follow the tracks. Why don’t you let us go ahead and follow him and finish him off? We’ll save everybody a lot of trouble.”

As Brock started toward the woods, Cole raised his rifle, holding it at hip level. At this distance, there was no way he could miss. Simultaneously, Vaccaro and Rupert raised their weapons, pointing them at Brock’s men.

Lena began darting toward the woods but was brought up short when Brock fired a burst into the ground ahead of her. “Not so fast, little girl.”

Lena froze.

Cole had held his fire, seeing that Brock was firing only a warning burst. Still, the man was only a finger flick away from getting a bullet.

Lieutenant Rupert now had his carbine trained on Brock, the expression on his face making it clear that he was struggling not to shoot the man.

“Easy there, Lieutenant,” Cole said, not taking his eyes off Brock. He had decided that there were too many guns pointing at too many people for this to have a good outcome.

Slowly Brock turned his submachine gun and aimed it directly at Cole. “I guess we have a situation here,” Brock stated into the ringing silence that followed the burst of fire, his voice steady.

In the cover offered by the woods, Obersturmbannführer Bauer grappled with his decision to seize the documents and flee. His sense of honor was at war with itself; he had surrendered willingly and fought alongside the Americans, who had reciprocated with trust, leaving him unbound and armed. Yet, in the throes of war, how far did that trust go? His duty as a German officer gnawed at him, compelling him to secure the vital plans and maps to prevent them from falling into American hands. To Bauer, allegiance to the Reich outweighed any debt to the Americans.

Suddenly the crack of gunfire pierced the silence around him, then ceased. The firing had come from the direction of the road, where he had left the others behind. Bauer’s heart raced. Should he continue his escape, or had something gone awry on the road?

Compelled by an inexplicable urge, he sighed and turned back, retracing his steps. He realized that he hadn’t gotten very far. He was sure that the hillbilly sniper would have caught up to him in no time at all. His revolver would not have been much use against a sniper rifle. He chided himself for making his escape attempt purely on impulse.

Reaching the road, Bauer peered through the dense foliage, taken aback by the sight of a small band of American soldiers in a standoff with Cole’s squad, weapons drawn. The gunshots made sense now, although it didn’t appear that anyone had been shot — yet.

“What on earth is happening?” he murmured, curiosity winning out over caution. With another sigh, this one of resignation, he stepped onto the road, his sudden emergence startling the Americans. They hesitated, unsure where to direct their aim — except for Cole and Brock, whose weapons remained steadfastly trained on each other.

Several guns now targeted him, but Bauer, with the satchel of documents in hand, slowly raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. “What is going on here?” he inquired calmly, as if walking into the midst of a standoff between rival Americans was a normal occurrence for him.

“These boys want to shoot you for what you did to their buddies,” Cole replied, his voice firm. “They sure as hell tried, back at the château. But I can’t let them, tempted though I may be. My orders are to bring you in, and that’s just what I aim to do.”

Bauer gave Cole a nod of acknowledgment. “I respect your sense of duty, Private Cole,” he said, “but perhaps we can negotiate.”

Brock seemed to sense that he had the upper hand and scoffed. “Negotiate? What terms could you possibly offer, aside from a bullet?”

Bauer’s gaze never wavered from Brock as he spoke, his voice steady. “In my hand, I hold documents of great importance — maps and plans salvaged from wreckage we found on the road. What if I were to hand them over? Everyone could lower their guns. You could present them to your superiors and be hailed as heroes for capturing invaluable enemy intelligence.”

A flicker of interest crossed Brock’s face as the German’s offer sank in. The Obersturmbannführer had cast his line, and it seemed Brock was considering the bait. “And what about you?” Brock asked. “I suppose you think we should just let you go?”

“Let Cole escort me to headquarters, as he’s so determined to do,” Bauer proposed. “What do you say to my proposal?”

Brock’s brow furrowed. “It doesn’t sit right with me,” he admitted. “The men you’ve killed… you need to pay a price for that.”

Bauer winced, as though the memory of what had happened to the American prisoners inflicted physical pain. “Yes, that was regrettable, against my wishes,” he confessed. “Rest assured that there will be a reckoning. Once I reach your headquarters, I will face interrogation, and justice will prevail. The Allies will probably execute me, if not tomorrow, then after the war — which, should this offensive fail, could be sooner than we think. So, you see, there will be justice for your comrades. You will have your vengeance, albeit at the end of a rope rather than your rifle.”

Everyone seemed to think that over. The standoff stretched on, weapons still aimed at one another with deadly intent, the air thick with tension, until one soldier spoke up. “He’s making sense, Brock. Let’s just hand this bastard over to headquarters. He’ll get what he deserves,” he said, his voice betraying his anxiety amid the pointed weapons.

Brock pondered, then asked, “What exactly are these documents?”

“The maps detail supply depots as well as crossing points for the rivers, along with written orders and a timeline for critical objectives. With this information, your forces can thwart my countrymen’s advance,” Bauer explained.

Brock nodded slowly, turning to Cole. “Is this true?”

“It is,” Cole confirmed. “That’s why he fled into the woods with them.”

Having reached a mutual understanding, Brock lowered his submachine gun, and Cole followed suit, pointing his rifle at the ground. The others did the same. Brock approached Bauer, who still held his hands high, and snatched the satchel.

But he also wanted something more than just the documents.

Stepping back, the big man landed a solid punch on Bauer’s chin, knocking the German into the snow.

“That’s a down payment on that justice you talked about,” Brock said, sneering down at him. Then, hefting the satchel stuffed with documents, Brock turned to Cole and declared, “We’ll take these and head back to Bastogne. As for getting this Kraut bastard to headquarters, you’re going to need all the luck you can get. The woods are still crawling with Germans, and it’s cold as hell out here.”

As if to prove his point, Brock gestured toward the road winding into the dark, snowy forest. In the distance, the sounds of battle echoed — a cacophony of gunfire and the distant rumble of artillery. They’d had their moment of drama here on the road, but there was still much to worry about.

Brock and his men prepared to leave. Before Brock could depart, Lena’s voice cut through the tension. “My mother — what of her?”

Brock paused, appearing oddly puzzled by the question, then replied, “You keep asking about your mother, little girl. But I have to tell you, there was no one in the house when we went through it.”

Lena’s expression relaxed, a silent acknowledgment that her mother’s hiding place had been effective.

Cole and his men watched as Brock and his companions turned and disappeared up the road toward Bastogne.

“I reckon that’s that,” Cole muttered, realizing that his heart was thundering. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it was no surprise. He had been a hair’s breadth from pulling the trigger on Corporal Brock. Now, turning to Bauer, he wondered aloud, “What should I do with you? I should just shoot you.”

Bauer gave him that annoying smile, which only made Cole want to shoot him even more. “Remember my words to the corporal,” Bauer said. “Justice will be served, just maybe not today.”

“I reckon you’re right about that.” Cole nodded, a grim agreement hanging in the air. Nearby, Vaccaro shook his head. “You don’t always have to be so damn righteous, Cole.”

Cole ignored him, his gaze fixed on Bauer, who just shrugged and looked away. Rupert chimed in, “Shouldn’t we tie him up again? We should take back my gun, at the very least.”

Cole shook his head. “He came back on his own, didn’t he? He gave himself up to save our sorry asses from shooting one another. There’s no need to tie him up again.” To Bauer, he added, “Keep the gun. You might need it before the day’s out.”

Rupert spoke up. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“He came back, didn’t he?” Cole snapped, then added, “Sir.”

Rupert didn’t argue the point.

As they moved down the road, enveloped by the silent, dark woods, even the wildlife seemed to hold its breath. The encroaching woods offered respite from the wind, but there was no break from the cold, which crept up from the icy road into their feet. Snowflakes drifted through the branches, chilling their skin with a touch as cold as the grave.

Cole fell back behind Bauer to keep an eye on him. No matter what he had said before to Lieutenant Rupert, he supposed that it was better to be safe than sorry if Bauer changed his mind and decided to try to shoot him in the back.

He let Lena and Rupert lead the way. They had rounded a bend, approaching the charred remains of a truck, when movement caught Cole’s eye. There was something, or somebody, hiding in the wreckage. He swung his rifle up, but a gunshot rang out first. Rupert cried out in pain, then fell to the snowy road, blood flowing red.

Lena dove down beside him, a move that likely saved her life as more shots followed, snapping through the cold air.

Cole fired blindly toward the truck. “Off the road!” he yelled, but he stood firm, firing again.

Darting forward, Cole grabbed Rupert, dragging him to the roadside ditch, Lena following. Vaccaro and Bauer had already vanished into the woods. Bullets zipped past, and Cole knew the fight was far from over.

Cole spotted movement and recognized the distinct square shape of a German helmet. He aimed and fired, taking down the figure hiding behind the skeleton of a truck. But the gunfire continued, forcing them to take cover. “We need to get out of here,” Cole urged. He asked Rupert, “How bad are you hit? Can you move?”

“Yes,” Rupert replied through gritted teeth.

“Let’s help him up,” Cole said, turning to Lena. “You get his other shoulder.” With their combined effort, they managed to drag the wounded lieutenant into the nearby woods, where Vaccaro and Bauer had already taken cover and were trading gunfire with the gunmen in the wreckage.

“I’ll be damned,” Cole exclaimed, catching his breath. “I reckon those Germans found us.”

“Messner and Dietzel,” Bauer confirmed. “They must have taken a shortcut at the bend in the road while we were unaware.”

Cole couldn’t argue with this theory; it seemed like the most logical explanation. They couldn’t be more than a few miles from HQ at Neufchâteau. But now they had a wounded comrade and enemy soldiers on their tail, making the final leg of their journey even more harrowing. “Vaccaro, keep an eye on that truck and watch our back trail,” Cole ordered. “I’ll tend to Rupert’s wound. We need to stop that bleeding before we do anything.”

He quickly took out a first aid kit from his bag and treated Rupert’s injury as best as he could. “I know it hurts like hell, Lieutenant, but we’ve got to keep moving,” Cole said sympathetically. “We need to circle around those Germans. We don’t have time to wait them out.” With Lena and Bauer supporting Rupert on either side, they made their way deeper into the woods, aided by an animal path that led them away from the road.

Despite his injury, Rupert was determined to keep going, but his strength was fading. In fact, he might not have made it at all if Bauer hadn’t slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him the last stretch up the steep incline. The German was certainly stronger than he looked.

The Krauts were tough bastards, even the officers, Cole admitted grudgingly.

Once they reached level ground again, Lena led them down a hidden path parallel to the road, keeping them out of sight from the Germans, who must surely now be on their trail.

They had left a trail wide as a highway through the snowy woods and up the side of the hill. Cole debated staying behind and making a stand against the Germans. He was confident that he had killed one of them, but the ambush on the road had rattled him, and he suddenly didn’t like their chances, even if they technically outnumbered the Germans. War wasn’t just a numbers game. Luck didn’t seem to be on their side lately.

Cole spotted movement in the distance, confirming that the Krauts were indeed coming after them. They had to keep moving. “We can’t stop yet,” he declared. “Let’s go.” He fired a few shots in the direction of the pursuing Germans before continuing onward with his team. Cole hoped the shots would deter their pursuers, even if he hadn’t hit them.

Their group pressed on through the dense woods until Bauer, breathless from the effort of supporting the lieutenant, insisted, “We must stop. He can’t go on without a break.” He glanced at Cole. “And frankly, neither can I.”

Cole nodded, conceding to a brief respite. It risked giving the Germans time to close in, but they had little choice. He swiftly replaced the blood-soaked bandage on the lieutenant’s wound with a fresh one. Then, settling on a fallen log, rifle resting on his knees, Cole took a deep gulp from his canteen. To his surprise, Bauer joined him, accepting the offered canteen with a nod.

The German then retrieved a flask from his tunic, offering it to Cole after a swift swig. “It’s not poison,” he assured him, “just schnapps.” The sharp liquor eased the rawness in Cole’s throat, the warmth cutting through the cold.

“It’s a hell of a thing,” Cole mused aloud. “Your comrades back there are relentless. They just won’t let it go, will they?”

“That’s Messner for you — determined, proud. The epitome of a German officer,” Bauer said, a wry smile playing on his lips. Oddly enough, he sounded admiring of his fellow Germans, even when they seemed determined to kill them.

Cole shook his head in self-reproach. “I should never have let them get the drop on us.”

“Do not be too hard on yourself,” Bauer replied. “That Jaeger is quite clever. Without you, we’d have been captured, or worse, long ago. You are unlike any American I have met. Had we known there were many like you, perhaps we would have reconsidered the war.”

Cole managed a half smile, but weariness and cold gnawed at him. Bauer’s gaze sharpened. “Messner only wants me. If I surrender, he will spare you and the others.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Anyhow, it’s not an option,” Cole said firmly. “We’ve been over this ground before. It wouldn’t be right.”

Bauer nodded. He tucked away his flask and checked his revolver, swinging open the cylinder, ensuring it was ready. “Then we shall face him together.”