"Speak up." Hermann grabbed the man's thinning hair and lifted his limp head.
"Please, no more."
"Gerd, give him a reminder." After a moment's hesitation, Hermann turned to face Gerd. "I don't want to tell you twice."
Gerd stuck the knife slowly in the man's stomach.
"Where is it, you bastard?" Hermann yelled at the old man. "Where's your stash? Give it up! Give it up! Give it up . . ."
* * *
" . . . get up! Man, get up! I'll sic Scooby on you!"
Gerd woke up with a flinch. Dave stopped shaking him.
"What the hell's been going on lately?" Dave asked, opening the blinds in the room. "You've been oversleeping and looking like hell."
Gerd sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Was ist . . . what time is it?"
"You're not late, but only because I bothered to check on you," Dave answered. "Still don't have a lot of time. We're going to start clearing some trees to the north. Looks like they might run a line up to Jena."
Gerd got out of bed without comment and lumbered to the bathroom.
"Good morning to you, too." Dave went to the kitchen, concerned, and started preparing breakfast.
* * *
"Remember, don't make a sound, and avoid anyone. No need to make them look for murderers," Hermann whispered. He handed a matchbook and sack to Jan.
"Nice." Jan took the sack and matchbook with a smile.
"When you find enough shells, pick a shed, not a house, to light. We don't need to give them a reason to look for a murderer or an arsonist, make them think it was an accident," Pieter added.
Jan stood up and walked quickly to the first house. Hermann and Pieter stayed behind cover, with an axe handle, to quietly take care of any witnesses. Hermann had picked midmorning rather than night to make their move, as the houses would likely be unoccupied. He also wanted daylight to navigate quickly out of town.
Jan disappeared around the back of the house. After a few long moments, he walked quietly out the front door. He had the sack in his hand, with something in it, and smiled.
"He's really good at this, you know," Pieter whispered.
Hermann nodded. "He only needs the occasional flogging to keep him on his toes."
Jan continued to the next house and took much longer. Hermann was about to send Pieter to go and get him, when he finally appeared at the front door. He shook his head and pointed to the bag. It didn't look any fuller.
Jan hurried to the back of the third house they had cased. After a few moments, he quickly walked back the way he came, shaking his head, indicating with his free hand that someone was sleeping inside.
Hermann waved Jan over to a house farther down the street. Jan nodded and proceeded towards it at a fast walk. Hermann and Pieter crept through the edge of the woods, keeping pace.
"He needs to slow down, he's too obvious," Pieter hissed.
"He'll be done soon enough, get ready to move." Hermann hustled over to their gear, as Pieter followed.
Jan was in and out of the last house before they had gathered all the gear. He had a huge smile on his face and the sack had several more boxes in it. He disappeared behind the house for a minute before returning. A small wisp of smoke was coming from the backyard.
"Hurry," Jan said as he approached.
Hermann grabbed the sack as they hustled into the woods. It held five boxes of shotgun shells. One of them was labeled "20 Gauge" and the rest "12 Gauge." When they were issued their weapons, they were told that the weapons were made for 12-gauge shells. Hermann would have normally backhanded Jan for something like that, but he was too happy to have four boxes of usable ammunition.
"Perfect. Let's get out of here, we have a package to pick up," Hermann whispered. They headed northwest.
* * *
"This is not rocket science!" Dave hollered.
Gerd sighed and lowered the .22 rifle. Of the ten soup cans on the ground fifty yards away, only one had any holes in it, and only two holes at that. Fifteen spent .22 cartridges were on the ground next to him. "Ja ja, I know, and Germans make rocket science. You say that before!"
"Tell you what, forget about the .22. You do fine with the shotgun anyways." Dave had spent the afternoon after work trying to teach Gerd marksmanship with a rifle, so Gerd could help hunt as well. He was fast deciding it was a wasted afternoon. Gerd had done well enough by killing a boar with a shotgun slug a few days ago.
"Mathias say the Sizemores have a bow. I can use that, and not use ammo. I can ask him tomorrow."