Rhineland Inheritance (25 page)

Jake greeted the drivers, nodding his thanks as Pierre refilled his mug. “Where is the main gate?”

“About a mile up ahead,” Pierre replied. “How do you feel?”

“Stiff, but otherwise better. Much better.” He drank the coffee, surveying the long line of vehicles pulled off the road behind him, and asked, “Is everybody ready?”

The drivers chorused a firm, “Yes, sir.” Jake turned to Pierre and said, “You're in the front jeep with me.”

“Everything is go, Jake,” Pierre assured him. “Just as you planned.”

Jake tossed the dregs of his coffee aside and handed back the cup. “Let's load up and do it.”

The sergeant manning the main gates was clearly taken aback when a long line of vehicles pulled up and stopped right in front of the entrance, jamming it completely. Jake and Pierre jumped from the jeep while it was still moving; Pierre stood out in the road alongside the convoy while Jake rushed over to the astonished guardsman.

The guard saluted and said, “Sir, those trucks have got to be moved back—”

Jake handed over his fistful of documents. “Captain Jake Burnes with a special consignment for General Clark.”

“Consignment of what, sir?”

“Call General Clark, Sergeant,” Jake replied crisply. “Tell him that the consignment he
specifically
ordered to be delivered to him
personally
—and to
no one
else—is waiting for him at the front gates. Is that clear?”

“Yessir, I guess it is, sir.” He cast a nervous glance toward the idling trucks, then started for the guardhouse phone.

“Just a minute, Sergeant. Aren't you forgetting something?”

“Sir?”

“Open the gate and let me get my trucks off this public road.”

“Sir, I can't do that without—”

“I don't have time for your shilly-shallying,” Jake snapped. “Those documents are all you need to get my trucks behind the safety of these gates.” Jake wheeled around and shouted over the sound of the revving motors, “Do you see them?”

“Not yet,” Pierre called back.

That put the guard on red alert. “See who, sir?”

“But there's some smoke in the distance,” Pierre yelled with exaggerated concern. “Could be them now.”

“Sergeant,” Jake pressed. “I have an extremely valuable shipment that I have brought clear across this country in record time. See the date at the top of the first page?”

“Yessir. Dated yesterday.” The sergeant went over and scanned the horizon again.

“I need to get these trucks inside and safe
now
.”

The sergeant weakened. “I'll have to call out the guard until the general gives his okay, sir.”

Jake released his pent-up breath. “That'll be fine, Sergeant. Call out anybody you like. Just open the gate, please. Now.”

Reluctantly the sergeant turned to his man and said, “O.K., Charlie, raise the gate.”

Jake joined his hands over his head and gave Pierre a pumping action, which Servais then repeated in plain sight of the convoy. At that, a cheer rose up and down the line. The sergeant's eyebrows went up yet another notch.

“I'll have to ask you to stay here, sir,” the guard insisted.

“Of course,” Jake replied. “Just remember, General Clark and no one else. He is here today, I hope.”

“Yessir, I checked him in myself just under an hour ago.”

Jake nodded, then yelled to Pierre as he passed, “Trucks alongside the wall, jeeps next, then the men!”

“Nobody goes near the goods,” Pierre shouted back, and snapped off both a grin and a precise salute.

Fifteen minutes later, Jake was still standing there. “Still no word, Sergeant?”

“Sir, I've called every place I know and left word about you and your shipment for General Clark. Are you sure there's nobody else who—”

“This shipment is to go straight into the general's hands,” Jake replied grimly. “And nobody else's.”

Then a voice from behind him asked, “How about mine, son?”

Jake wheeled around, sputtered, “Colonel Beecham! What the—Where have you been, sir?”

“Hunting big game,” the colonel replied, a glimmer of humor in his steely gaze. “Tell you about it later. Now then. Do you think maybe you could tell me what's got you in such an all-fired rush to see the general?”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Storing the treasure and making an official handover took the better part of another day. By then the colonel had already left for Badenburg—called back, he said, to a desk which had been vacant far too long. Jake's men were then gathered and paraded so General Clark could thank them. Jake was mildly disappointed that the general had no personal word for him. Not the first word.

As they set off on the return to Badenburg, however, it struck him with full force that the reason for the general's silence was the coming interview with Colonel Beecham. Jake spent the journey cataloging the rules he had broken. It made a mighty impressive list.

Jake decided his homecoming was going to be rough. Very rough indeed.

The colonel insisted on hearing Jake's report in private and alone. Jake told Beecham the entire story, including what he had done with the coins, and then accepted all blame.

When Jake had finished, the colonel only asked, “What about this German ex-soldier? What's his name again?”

“Jurgen Konrad,” Jake replied. “I had him released when we started off for Frankfurt. I figured he had suffered enough, sir.”

“Sit down, Captain,” Colonel Beecham ordered. When Jake had settled himself in his chair, the colonel went on. “You've stepped way out of line, mister.”

“Yessir, I know that, sir,” Jake replied, and readied himself for the worst.

“I am only going to say this once, Captain, so listen up. We are no longer at war.”

“I'm not sure I understand, sir.”

“We are no longer at war,” the colonel repeated. “You can't get away with bending the same rules you might have
bent a year ago.” He inspected Jake to make sure the message had sunk home, then continued. “Still, I think I would have probably done exactly what you did.”

That shocked him cold. “Sir?”

“Or I hope I would have, anyway.” Beecham cocked his chair back and propped his feet on the corner of the desk. “Now I want you to consider something. The Occupying Forces need officers like you, son. There's work to be done here. Vital work. We're not just engaged in a police action. We are responsible for helping to rebuild an entire nation.”

“But, sir—”

Beecham held up his hand. “Just hear me out. Then you can say anything you like. There have been a lot of eyes on you recently. Most have liked what they've seen. A lot. These last few days were what you might call a final exam.”

Jake could not help but gape. “You disappeared deliberately, sir?”

“More like we took advantage of the circumstances. The general's been busy forming the group he wants left in charge of reshaping this country. Had to make sure all the treasure hounds were rounded up and sent home. Looks like we've got them all.” The colonel permitted himself a satisfied smile. “Wanted to see how you handled the pressure of command, son. You did well. Very well, in fact. The general agrees.”

“He does? Sir?”

Beecham nodded. “I'm due for retirement in two months. So is Colonel Daniels up at Karlsruhe. Both of us are ready to go home. We've got families waiting, and we're not suited for what's coming next. I think you are, though, and Daniels' aide, Major Hobbs, agrees. Hobbs is scheduled to take the same ship we'll be leaving on, and feels you'd be a good man to place in charge of the new consolidated Karlsruhe command.”

“Sir,” Jake stammered. “I don't know what to say.”

“We're pushing you for a battlefield promotion. Probably the last of its kind—in this war, anyway. Going to jump you
a grade, put you right in as colonel, acting officer in charge, to be confirmed in ninety days. What do you say?”

Jake was left speechless.

“It's the chance of a lifetime, if you ask me. I'd urge you to jump on it with both feet.” Beecham stood up. In a daze, Jake rose and accepted the colonel's hand. “You're a good man, Burnes, and a good officer to boot. One of the finest I've served with, and I've served with some dillies. Go think it over, and let me know what you decide.”

Jake almost collided with Pierre as he left the colonel's office. Servais searched Jake's face. “It was bad, yes?”

Jake tried to collect himself. “I'm not sure.”

“I don't see any blood. There are no guards. What happened?”

Jake pulled him into the hallway and told him the news.

Pierre said, “I don't understand.”

“What's there to understand?”

“This is great news. Why do you look so glum?”

“I don't know whether I want to accept or not.”

Pierre smiled broadly. “My friend, may all your life be filled with such troubles as this.”

“This isn't a joke, Pierre.”

“Wait. I too have news.” Pierre drew himself up to full height. “You are now looking at the new commander of the French garrison at Badenburg.”

“You?”

“Don't look so shocked. I think they have made an excellent choice.” He patted Jake on the shoulder. “This of course would mean that I shall be close enough to offer advice whenever you are at a loss, Colonel.”

Jake arrived back at the main camp to find Sally Anders pacing the length of his barracks. “I've been cooling my heels around here for over an hour, soldier. Are you going to accept?”

He gazed at her. “Aren't there any secrets around here?”

“Stow it, soldier. I asked you a direct question. I think I deserve a direct answer.”

Jake sank down on the bed and replied, “I don't know.”

She sat down beside him. “Would it help any if I told you I was accepting a posting to Berlin?”

Jake was both surprised and pleased. Then he thought for a minute, and pointed out, “Berlin is a long away from Karlsruhe.”

“It's a lot closer than Ottowa,” she replied. “Which was where I was headed until about three hours ago.”

“You did that? For me?”

“I bet colonels in charge of bases can find lots of reasons to go hobnobbing with the senior brass in Berlin.”

“Is that what you're going for? To hobnob with the officers?”

“Maybe. At least with one in particular. That is, if he'll let me. Hobnob, I mean.”

“I can't see anybody turning you away, Sally,” he replied seriously.

“I'm not interested in just any old officer body,” she replied crisply. “One recently promoted colonel is the one I've got my eye on.”

“Oh, really?”

She nodded. “If he'll have me.”

“What if he wants you to give up the big city of Berlin for a little nowhere town like Karlsruhe?”

She took a deep breath. “Then I guess he's got his work cut out for him.” She rose before he could reach for her, and said, “That's about all the risk-taking this girl can manage just now, especially with a desk piled high with transfer and promotion orders, and another soldier waiting to speak with you.”

“Let him wait,” he said. “Come and sit down.”

“Later,” she promised. She bent down and planted a solid kiss right where it belonged. Then she smiled, wiped the
red smudge off his mouth, and said, “Can't have our newest colonel receiving his first official visitor wearing lipstick.”

“Sally—”

“Don't, Jake. I'm shaky enough already.” She bestowed upon him a trace of the tenderness he knew was there, and said in parting, “We'll have time for this later.”

Jake was still staring at the door when Sergeant Morrows appeared, knocked, and asked, “Sir, could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Too much too fast,” Jake muttered.

Morrows hesitated. “Sir?”

“Nothing, Sergeant,” he replied. “Come on in.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Jake pointed to his footlocker. “I'm afraid this is the only seat I can offer you.”

“Oh, no thank you, sir.” Morrows remained standing, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

“What's on your mind?”

Morrows twiddled with his cap and said, “It's like this, sir. Me and the boys've been thinking.”

“Always a dangerous sign.”

“Yessir. Anyway, what we wanted to ask was, are you taking any share of the loot?”

Jake jerked to full-alert status. “What's that got to do with anything?”

“We'd just like to know, sir.”

“I'll get a share of the reward, just like everybody else,” Jake replied. “Someday. Maybe.”

“That's not what I mean, sir.”

“If you're talking about the coins, then the answer is no. That was intended for you men.”

“That's sorta what we figured, sir. Me and the men, well . . .” Morrows hesitated.

“Go on, spit it out, man.”

“We want to give it back, sir,” Morrows said in a rush. “All of it.”

Jake was completely dumbfounded. “Give it back?”

“The coins.” The effort was costing Morrows dearly. “It's like this, sir. We got back pay coming outta our ears, at least compared to some. And with this new GI bill, we'll be getting a real leg up when we get home.” He waved a hand to encompass the entire outside world. “But these folks, sir, what've they got going for them?”

“Nothing,” Jake said quietly. “Absolutely nothing.”

“That's what we mean.” Morrows swiped at the perspiration beading his forehead. “They need it a lot worse than we do.”

Jake shook his head at the enormity of what he was hearing. “I don't know what to say.”

“The word's out that you might be sticking around, sir,” Morrows went on. “We'd like you to keep it and use it wherever you think it'll do the most good.”