Star Crossed Enemies

Chapter 10

Mark woke up early the next morning feeling just as tired as he was the night before. He slowly rose from the bed when he heard movement from the neighboring kitchen. He walked down the hallway and peeked his head around the corner to see Hazel sewing a patch on his uniform. She glanced up at him in between stitches before looking back down at her work.

"How did you sleep last night?" she asked.

"Good," he lied.

Mark's head still hurt from the deep thoughts he had been in since the night before. He was still mulling over the details on how to get Hazel out of the country. Mark sat down next to Hazel and watched her make the final stitches to his shirt. 

"I probably could have done better, but–"

Mark leaned over, looking at his shirt and smiled. "It's fine. I don't think anyone could have done a better job."

Hazel smiled softly in response and handed him his uniform. 

"Today, I'm going into town and seeing an old friend of mine. I'll come back here and tell you if my friend can help or not," said Mark.

Mark walked back to the bedroom with his uniform under one arm, shutting the door softly behind him. He put on all the layers followed by the Knight's Cross. He leaned down and tied his shiny black boots he had made into utter perfection overnight while consumed in his thoughts. He then picked up his hat and looked in the mirror, smoothing back his blonde hair neatly. Mark stared at his reflection and grimaced. 

Never has his uniform disgusted him. Never did he dream he would feel this way. The only thing he could think about is the pain he had put Hazel through. And the pain this uniform had caused her over the years. Mark shook his head to clear his thoughts before making his way back to the living room. Hazel was curled up on the chair with her nose buried in a book. Mark stopped in his tracks to adjust the buttons of his uniform. Hazel peeked over the top of the pages. The book clattered on the floor as her eyes widened in fright.

"Just remember what I'm wearing is just clothing," he whispered, seeing the fear flicker in her eyes.

Hazel folded her shaking hands in her lap and took a shaky deep breath. 

"I'll be back before dark. Go ahead and pack while I'm gone."

Mark stepped up to the front door. He looked back at Hazel for a moment before walking out. It was overcast, and the wind whizzed past him having a chilling effect. He squinted from the light reflecting off the clouds feeling blinded after so many days being indoors. He now understood why Hazel was so pale being trapped in the cottage day after day. Mark pulled the coat closer to him as he walked through thick trees and brush. The road where he was shot and left for dead came to view. He thought back on that night and realized he was leaving as a completely different man. He turned to his right and started his journey into town.

After an hour of walking, buildings came to view on the horizon. Mark continued his slow stroll until he saw two German soldiers chatting on a street corner. One of them nudged the other and nodded toward him. They both stood up straight and saluted with their arms outstretched, their hands in the air. 

"Is Captain Klaus Kruger in town?" asked Mark.

"Yes, sir. I'll show you where he is," said one of the men. 

Mark followed the soldier down the cobblestone road to a brick building. The young soldier opened the elaborate front door, guarded by two other soldiers, and led him down the long hallway to the double doors at the end.

"He's in there, sir."

"Thank you."

Mark opened the door to see Klaus was faced toward a bookshelf on the opposite wall.

"Don't you know how to knock?" asked Klaus angrily as he picked up a book.

"Do you know who I am?"

Klaus swung around and smiled at the sight of Mark.

"Mark! What happened to you? You were expected here nearly two weeks ago."

Mark shut the door and turned around to Klaus, who was approaching him with a rare grin. Even during his Hitler Youth days, Mark seldom saw Klaus' pearly white teeth. His green eyes were dancing with delight, and the light overhead made his raven black hair gleam. Klaus outstretched his pale hand, which Mark shook with his own. 

"Come sit down. Tell me everything," said Klaus as he motioned for a chair. 

Mark sat down in a velvet chair, appreciating its comfort immediately. Klaus sat in the chair opposite from him. 

"Well? What happened?"

"I was shot on the way over here," said Mark.

Klaus' mouth fell open in shock. "What?"

Klaus pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he continued to stare at Mark in disbelief. 

"The car that was taking me here broke down, and I started walking. When I was on my way here, someone shot me multiple times and left me for dead. A woman saved me. I've been under her care ever since."

"Who is the woman? Who tried to kill you?"

"I don't know who shot me. But this young woman discovered me on the street and rescued me. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here right now." 

"Well, who is she?! She did us and the Nazi Regime an excellent service keeping you alive!"

Mark hesitated. He could see his friend's inquisitive green eyes were pressing for the answer. 

"She's a Jew," said Mark slowly. 

Klaus choked on his cigarette.

"W–What?" he said in between coughs.

"A Jew."

Klaus smothered his cigarette in a tray. His soft coughs turned into a laugh. Mark felt himself stiffen in his chair, not sure how to respond to his reaction. 

"You're kidding, right? Why would a Jew want to help a Nazi?" snorted Klaus.

"Klaus, I'm serious. I've been at her house the entire time recovering. She saved me."

The laughter subsided as Klaus stared at Mark's serious face. He suddenly shot up from his chair and stomped over to the liqueur cabinet. He took out a whiskey bottle and two tumblers from one of the shelves. 

"We need a drink while I soak this in," muttered Klaus as he poured the amber liquid.

He handed one of the drinks to Mark, lifting his in the air with a small nod. Mark returned the gesture before both of them turned up the liquid, slamming the glasses on the table in front of them. Mark welcomed the burning liquid that traveled down his throat and left the bitter taste in his mouth. He could see that Klaus was debating on pouring another glass before sitting back down across from him. 

"I've never heard anything like it," said Klaus quietly. 

"I know."

"How did you escape?"

"I didn't escape."

"She let you leave on your own free will, knowing you would turn her in?"

"I'm going to try to get her out of Europe."

Klaus stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're not making sense. She's a Jew! Did you hit your head or something?"

"She risked her life to save mine."

"She's still a Jew," argued Klaus.

"I felt the same way, Klaus. Her family has banished her because she saved me. She has risked everything for my life. I would be dead if it weren't for her."

"Mark, she is a filthy Jew. No matter what she did, she's still a dirty Jew."

Mark stood up and put his glass on the coffee table with a slap.

"Don't say that," said Mark coolly. 

"What?" 

"You know what."

"You mean, filthy Jew?" asked Klaus.

Mark closed his eyes, trying to keep the anger building inside him from coming out. 

"Yes. Don't say that."

"Why? That's what she is. She's a parasitic repulsive Jew."

Mark felt a rush overcome him. He walked up to Klaus and threw back his fist as far as he could before making contact with his jaw. Klaus fell to the floor, his glass flying from his hand and fragmenting a few feet from him. He looked up at Mark with a stunned face as he rubbed his jaw. Mark looked at his red knuckles as his chest heaved. His mouth fell open, unable to form any words. 

"What's gotten over you?!" yelled Klaus.

"I–Klaus, I don't kn–" 

"I know what it is! It's that Jewish girl! She's gotten to you," said Klaus while standing up.

Mark thought quickly on how to turn this situation around. The last thing he needed was his friend of many years to turn against him. Klaus was just as cold if not colder than he was before he had a change of heart. 

"You're right, Klaus. I should have seen it. I'm going to report her immediately," lied Mark.

"You make sure you do. You are not yourself. She did something to you," grunted Klaus as he rubbed his jaw.

"I've got to get back to Berlin and fix this. I'll write to you or come by again when I am back this way. I would stay longer, but I need to take care of this immediately," said Mark.

Klaus smirked and looked at Mark carefully. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a black pistol from the top drawer.

"Take this. I think it will give you great pleasure to do it yourself. No need to rush to Germany when you have the ability to do it yourself right here."

Mark forced himself to take the weapon and return the evil grin that was on Klaus' face. 

"Oh, it will be my pleasure," lied Mark. 

He shoved the pistol in his pocket and shook Klaus' outstretched hand.

"I'm glad you came to see me."

"I agree. It was good to see you. I will be back to return your pistol when I'm done."

Mark looked at Klaus' menacing eyes to see he was satisfied with that answer. He calmed his breathing as he thought how he would get back to the cottage as quickly as possible before being followed.