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Bennettworks

This is a work of original historical furry fiction written by me David Bennett. The people of historical significance that are referred to in this story is purely there to make the story go on. Any likeness to someone living or dead is purely by accident. All characters except for Wolfpac are ©Bennettworks: Wolfpac is © his owner and creator Kyle B. For more on Wolfpac, visit www.denofthewolf.net .

This story tends to contain very extreme themes. It contains homosexual content, man-boy love, and extreme sexual intercourse - as well as a concentration camp environment. If gay romance and erotica is not your thing, or if you are under the legal age, then take your cute little ass away from this page and scoot. Otherwise read on, unzip your fly and have a blast!

If you enjoy what you read, contact me, the author at [email protected] or [email protected] . I am taking commissions at this time.

_____

"What are you writing?"

"I am writing about you. I write about all my friends...when no one is looking that is."

"So...that is what you keep in that leather-bound book of yours?"

"Yes, ever since you gave it back to me it has come in rather handy. This way, even if people die around me, I wont forget them."

"That's a good thing. I wouldn't want you to forget me, not after all we've been through."

"Hell Fowler, getting fucked by damn near everyone in the camp doesn't even compare with what I've been through. I just can't really compete with that."

"Zeke...remember what Schmidt did? He killed your lover and son. He was also involved with the party that burned down your father's house way back when."

Zeke paused...and thought...and then continued writing and talking. "So what, I can't really hate him any worse than I already do, which is more than any being should have to feel for anyone."

"I suppose."

Fowler was resting on a hospital bed, with Zeke next to him. It was 5 days after the incident with Schmidt in the Director's Office. Fowler was resting. He had been torn up, and he had to be stitched in order to repair the damage to his hindquarters. Zeke was writing in his diary, and wearing a pair of cracked reading glasses he picked up off a dead Jew. Reading was difficult with the cracked lenses, but at least it wasn't impossible like when he wasn't wearing them.

"I miss my real glasses." Zeke said, as he looked at Fowler resting in his bed. Fowler turned and looked at him slowly. Fowler looked like he had a lot on his mind...something that he had been wrestling with.

"Hmm?" Fowler murmured.

"Oh," Zeke took off the borrowed glasses and gestured to them, and put them back on. "These things. I hate em - but they are all I can get! These are the closest thing to my Rx that I could find. I searched through almost 100 bodies for a pair that fit." Zeke sighed as he went back to writing. Fowler smiled a teeny smile and pointed towards the door.

"If you go and talk to Marcel in optics, he has a huge barrel of old glasses and lenses from the dead. I am sure he can make you a pair." He said with a hint of hope.

"No - you're joking...aren't you?" Zeke said skeptically.

"Does it look like it?" Fowler said in a serious tone.

Zeke smiled, and leaned over and kissed Fowler on the lips once. "Thanks! I have a lot of letters to send once I get out of here, and I'll need a pair of reading glasses so I can see what I'm doing."

Fowler nodded. "Will you write me?"

Zeke put a limp hand on his heart and gasped. "How dare you insinuate that I wouldn't write you? You are the first that I am going to write!" Zeke said with a hearty laugh. Fowler managed a labored chuckle; if he laughed too hard he might have ripped his stitches.

"So...onto another matter Zeke." Fowler said as he licked his lips. Zeke nodded and set down the diary in his lap.

"Alright Fowler, what do you want to talk about."

"Two things." Fowler said grimly. "First is about me, and the second is about you and your 'plans'."

Zeke felt his heart rise into his throat, and he gulped. "Y-yes?"

Fowler reached across, and took Zeke's hand into his, and held onto it tight. Fowler sighed and looked into Zeke's eyes, and there were tears slowly welling up.

"I'm sick." Fowler said softly.

"Your sick? Well you're in the best place if you're sick, they'll give you medicine." Zeke said as he ran his thumb across fowler's knuckles. Fowler smiled on, but the tears were streaming slowly down his cheek. Zeke began to worry. What was his only ally sick with that would have him in such distress?

"Zeke - what I have, there is no cure for. I...I am going to die."

Zeke's heart, which was in his throat, sank its way down to the sole of his foot. It was probably the worst news he had ever heard in his life. "What are you sick with?"

"They have diagnosed me with Syphilis Zeke...I'm infected. You shouldn't have kissed me either."

Zeke leaped up, and ran over to a sink and turned it on, and proceeded to wash his mouth out thoroughly. Inside, he felt bad for acting this way, but he felt that deep down Fowler would understand. Zeke turned around, and looked at Fowler...his friend. How could he ever see Fowler the same way again? He couldn't even touch him, what was he supposed to do?

"I'm sorry I -" Zeke began.

"No, don't be sorry. You did the right thing. I don't take any offence."

Zeke walked over, and stood over Fowler, and looked at him. He wondered if he had any of the symptoms yet. Zeke tried to think of something, something to say.

"Um...if I'm not mistaken, isn't there treatment for this disease?" He said in hope.

"Yeah, but no cure. Even so, I can't get the medicine, because all the hospitals that carry the treatments in Berlin have been destroyed."

"Fuck...that is not good." Zeke said in frustration.

"Look, don't worry about me...alright? I lived a good life, and I had the honor of meeting you. Now, it is time for me to pay the price for being a Nazi, and accept this sickness."

"But-"

"No Zeke...don't protest. I am not going to treat this. This is how I want to die, and know that I died defending you, alright?" Fowler said, his face becoming stern.

"Defending me?" Zeke asked.

"Yes. I went to the Director and told him about what I saw, and asked to have Schmidt shipped away to the front lines. Schmidt was called in to talk to him, and I left to go to bed. Apparently there was a big verbal fight, and Schmidt stormed out of the office, and he dragged me out of bed and threw me into the office. You already know the rest. Now Zeke, you are my friend. I admitted that, and I admitted to the Director yesterday that we have been romantically involved too."

"You did?" Zeke gulped again.

"Yes, it's not like I could lie to him. I had to tell him the truth."

"Well, what are they going to do about it? Kill you?"

Fowler gave a nice smile and giggled. "I think that Schmidt did a good enough job of giving me death. I am going to be nothing after long."

"You seem to be in good spirits for someone with what you have." Zeke observed.

Fowler gave a grin, and turned away from him. "I do what I can."

Zeke took a few moments to turn away from Fowler as well. He had a lot to think about. Zeke wrote a new entry about Fowler in his diary, and had to keep from crying throughout. Fowler scolded him at one point and told him not to cry, Fowler told him that he had done enough crying since they had met.

A few hours went by, before Fowler awoke from a short nap. Zeke was napping next to him. He had been allowed to visit Fowler for two days under orders from the Director, and planned on spending every moment he could at his side. The rest was what both men needed; the stress on Zeke, and the toll taken on Fowler were high, and rest was the best thing for the pair at the moment.

Fowler tapped Zeke's knee, and Zeke jumped. Fowler snickered softly, and told him to calm down. Zeke nodded, and looked at Fowler. Fowler, despite his sickness, still seemed to be in a positive mood. Zeke flattened the wrinkles in his pants and set his diary on the side table next to Fowler's bed.

"Y - yeah?" He asked Fowler.

"When are you going to do it?"

"Err - do what?" Zeke asked, half playing dumb and half actually not sure what he meant.

"You know what I mean." Fowler said in a sly tone.

"What? Do you mean something sexual?" Zeke asked, now becoming less sure what Fowler meant.

"I mean, your grand escape."

"Oh...that. The plan is in the works. Wolfpac and I are working our way around the camp and figuring the best route to escape."

"Hmm - I wonder why you don't just tunnel your way out?" Fowler shrugged.

Zeke shot him a sarcastic look. "We both know that won't work. Besides, I don't want to run the risk of the tunnel caving in at some point."

Fowler nodded and slowly pealed his blankets off. He had to give himself a sponge bath. Naked he sat, washing his sores that were beginning to form on his body. Zeke made note of this and planned to write about it later. He looked Fowler over, and cringed. The sores were all over the place; the diseased must have had an exquisite time with him.

"I am willing to help you Zeke, any way I can."

Zeke smiled and blushed. "Really?"

"Yes. Hell I would just sneak you out of here myself if I could."

"If needs be we might do that, but Wolfpac and I have a plan pretty much laid out."

"Well, tell me if you need anything, and I would be more than glad to help you." Fowler said as he wrung out his sponge. "Oh yeah, I want you to take this water and put it in a bottle to be delivered to the boys back in the Officer's Area. Deliver it to anyone you find that looks thirsty."

Zeke gave a wicked grin. "Biological Warfare?" Zeke asked.

"Absolutely. You think we Nazis haven't done it to you prisoners? We have pumped all kinds of diseases through these camps in an attempt to get rid of you all. Not that I approved, but I am just saying it happens."

"No I don't blame you Fowler. I caught the flu, remember?"

"I remember, you were almost dead."

"I didn't die however. Now I am as strong as ever." Zeke stood and flexed his arms. His biceps had reached almost 19 inches in circumference, possibly a world's record. Zeke stood and posed like a body builder as Fowler clapped. He was impressed with Zeke's physique.

"You certainly are strong. I bet you could have taken me on." Fowler said as he pointed to himself.

"Who knows? If you weren't contagious I would wrestle you."

"I know you would, but you should go and concentrate on your escape darling. Come back when you've got it figured out.

"Ok."

Zeke stood and collected his things, and walked out of the hospital to return to his barracks. The snow was still falling outside, though he still felt warm from the heating inside the hospital and the general positive energy he felt from Fowler. He looked around. The Nazi soldiers stood huddled inside of their coats, holding their rifles and automatic weapons, breathing out big puffs of steam when they exhaled. Zeke looked up, it was getting closer to noon, judging by the color of the clouds overhead. A large and fat snowflake drifted down on his nose, and melted instantly. He snickered, but felt someone jab a gun in his back.

"Move it along." An Officer ordered.

"Yes sir." Zeke mumbled as he headed back to the barracks area. As he walked, he scouted potential escape routes. There was the north fence located only 100 yards from the barracks, there was the west gate that was rarely guarded, and there was the body depot where the trucks brought in the dead bodies. That would be the best bet, if they could find enough protective gear to shield him from the disease that some of the bodies would hold.

Zeke reached Barrack 9 and opened the door and exhaled. He took count of the people inside. The house was still full of prisoners, and would be until they were free. Zeke ran a hand through his growing hair and stepped further inside. Many of the people were resting, or just sitting and waiting to die. Zeke shrugged to himself and wandered to his bunk. There, there was a note under his pillow. He opened it and read it. It was from Wolfpac, and it was coded. The pair had invented a code so no one could tell what they were writing to the other. The letter looked something like this when translated:

Zeke,

The plan seems to be working. I have been watching the Nazis around my work area and have made some interesting observations. I agree that the Body Depot will be the best place to make the escape. In-between the bathhouse and the warehouse, is where I work, until I get transferred to the furnace room that is. Anyway, there are three guards that patrol the area that will cover the first half of the route we wish to take. So I suppose our route will go like this:

1. 1. Start at the Furnace Room
2. 1. Sneak out through the east exit by 2200
3. 1. Wait for guards Sven and Marcus to switch positions at 2215
4. 1. Hide under the warehouse until 2300 then sneak to the bathhouse
5. 1. Move past The guard named Von Kent when he bends over to tie his shoes and adjust his underwear.

After that I am not sure, I suppose that you will fill me in on that. Since you have today and tomorrow off, take this as a chance to make your observations!

-Wolfpac

Zeke nodded after he read the note and took it to the meager fireplace the barracks had and tossed it in. He would go and observe. He took his diary back into his hand and walked back out of the barracks and headed towards what he decided to call "Checkpoint A". Checkpoint A was at the bathhouse, where the guard named Van Kent would be guarding after he went on duty at 2000. Van Kent, Wolfpac had observed, was a 32-year-old soldier that had troublesome boots. Around the same time every night, he would bend over and tie his boots, and then have to adjust his tight-fitting underwear. Van Kent was very unreliable when it came to anything, so he would b easy to bypass. The thing Zeke needed to do now was establish a Checkpoint B, in-between Checkpoint A and the Body Depot.

"Afternoon Zeke." Said one of the prisoners as she walked by. Zeke nodded in response, and looked at the route. There were a few workhouses, shaped in a random cluster in-between the Bathhouse and the Body Depot. This was a spot, but the odd positioning of the houses would make hiding difficult. He would have to wait until further tonight to do his observations. He walked his way back to the barracks to catch a nap.

* * *

It was midnight. Zeke was watching the guards at what he was designating Checkpoint B. There was only one guard, but he seemed to be the only one that would be difficult. He was always watching his back and making random turns and twists, and doubling back over the same path. There was nothing that even suggested a pattern. Zeke sat on a crate near the bathhouse and watched him, the lamp of the guard shining to give his position to him.

"Damn...this is going to be hard. I should move in and investigate any better ideas." Zeke thought to himself as he slowly slinked his way down to where this paranoid guard was. With the time scale he had figured out so far, it would be around this time of night that he and Wolfpac would end up there, so, it was almost a compete run through.

Zeke appeared at the odd arrangement of houses, and saw the guard. The guard shone the light on him and whispered,

"Who goes there?"

Zeke held his hands out to show he wasn't hiding anything. "Prisoner 1110624 sir." Zeke responded.

"What are you doing out of bed prisoner, I can shoot you for this." The officer said.

"It's my day off, and I couldn't sleep. I needed someone to talk to, and you looked lonely, so I decided to talk to you." Zeke lied.

"Hmm...well no funny business." The male said as he lowered the light. Zeke tried not to express his relief when he stepped forward and began to pace the male. Zeke noticed, now that he was right next to him, that the officer had a limp in his right leg. He could tell that the officer seemed to have better hearing on his left than his right. Zeke smiled and walked with him.

"So, what's your name?" Zeke asked casually.

"White. Sergeant White is my name." The officer said.

"White? That is an interesting name sir." Zeke said as he watched the way the man walked. He did have a limp, and he seemed to put too much weight into his walk, as in he probably couldn't run.

"It's a name." White responded. "What does it matter to you?"

"Well I like to learn the names of the people I talk to."

The Nazi scoffed, and made s spontaneous turn to his left, and then continued walking straight again. "Well it's hard enough for us to keep track of all those damned numbers." The officer said as his eyes darted around.

"I suppose. Well, Sergeant, is something wrong?"

"I'm watching out...escapees can be anywhere...I had one almost get by me. I showed him. I cut off his head."

Ah...so he was the one. "What did he try?" Zeke asked, now taking interest.

"He tried to jump me. I won't let anyone get by me again."

"Really? Not a one?" Zeke said to test him.

"Nope." The officer said as he started to double back. Zeke got an idea, and picked up a stone that was next to him. With the officer's back turned, he tossed the stone in a random direction. It hit a wall and the officer bolted in that direction. Zeke laughed.

"That was easier than I thought." Zeke thought. So...he had the plan down sooner than he thought. It was so simple. The thing that was difficult was going to be the body pile. He would have to climb over that, and then they would be in open countryside and past the fence. This is where he needed help. He retreated back to his bunk to sleep the rest of the night, and would think further on it in the morning.

* * *

"So that's it?" Wolfpac said to Zeke as the pair stood in the Furnace Room.

"Yes."

The pair were standing in the Furnace room, working. They had been ordered back to work due to a large shipment of bodies that needed to be burned. Zeke had told him about what he had observed. Wolfpac agreed to everything, but he was stuck on the ending as well.

"Well, it's open countryside Zeke. There is nowhere to really hide. Not only that, is the Nazi's will catch us eventually if we are on foot."

Zeke shuffled in his boots and grabbed another body off of the ground, and elderly female, and tossed her on the loader. He then reached down and grabbed an elderly male and tossed him on the loader as well, now that Schmidt had ordered the burning of 2 bodies at a time. Zeke looked tired, but his muscles were bulging under his apron. He was a rather handsome image to Wolfpac. Wolfpac would have been willing to forget everything just to be able to sit there and ogle his love. However, that was a luxury that he didn't have.

"I think that it's time we gave Fowler an update." Zeke said, as he turned to open the furnace. He opened the door, and shoved the bodies in, and pulled the loader back to re-stock, then shut the door. Wolfpac picked up a pair of bodies to help Zeke and nodded.

"I agree, but what can Fowler do for us?"

"I haven't a clue...something. He never exactly told us what he was willing or not willing to do. This may be the time for us to find out exactly how far onto a limb he is prepared to go."

"You're right."

Within a minute's time, an officer walked into the room and looked at Wolfpac. He sneered, and picked up a corpse's shoe, and chucked it at Wolfpac. Wolfpac turned, and looked at the officer with a sneer.

"Hey! You want something to suck on? Why don't you come play with me?" The officer said in a mock come-on. Wolfpac threw down his gloves in a manor not unlike that of a hockey player, and walked over to the officer. Wolfpac was almost a foot taller than the male, and was the bigger than the two.

"What do you want?" Wolfpac grumbled.

"I want you to do something about this!" The officer said. There was a punch thrown, but Wolfpac caught it. Wolfpac had grabbed the fist of the officer as if he was moving in slow motion. The officer gasped...and looked shocked.

"What?" Wolfpac started.

"I never expected a Poof like you to catch a punch."

Wolfpac sneered. "I never thought a Nazi like you could scream like a bitch when his balls were squeezed."

"Huh?" The officer asked.

Then he found out. Wolfpac reached with his free hand and squeezed the testicles of the male in front of him as hard as he could. The male screamed like a female indeed when this happened, but Wolfpac clasped a hand over his mouth, and helped the male over to the door by his balls, and threw him out. The male laid there in the fetal position, not quite sure what had happened.

Zeke shook his head. "I'm glad we are getting out of here soon. I can't take any more of this bullshit."

"Neither can I. I swear that guy had the smallest balls I've ever felt. I bet some of the boys you've romped with over the years have had bigger balls."

Zeke shrugged, not caring in the least about the Nazi's ball size.

The two returned to work, and continued their plan. Schmidt came in, harassed them, and took his normal urination on the corpses and then left. Zeke was pleased a little now; at least he hadn't changed his routine yet. The rest of the night went the same as the nights for the past week; everything was going according to plan.

* * *

Zeke was in Fowler's room once again. Fowler was listening to the news on his radio that one of his friends had brought in. He looked depressed. He had every right to be. Neither Wolfpac nor Zeke held Fowler responsible for the way he was feeling.

"We're loosing. I hear that the war may be over soon in Europe." Fowler said, staring off into space. It was around 5 in the evening, and it was already starting to get dark out. Fowler's arch shaped Radio provided some light, but not a lot. His little green lamp off to the side gave the room the light that it needed at that time. The lamp reminded Zeke of the lamp that was once on his desk. Was his desk still there? Did it survive the bombs? It was doubtful, due to the location of the bombings. Yes, the office of his newspaper had to have been obliterated by now, and with the letters he sent out before he was captured Dresden's citizens and Kurtis more than likely assumed he was gone. Zeke wondered, what had ever become of Anita? She was his best female friend, and he did love her. He missed her husky accent, and her kind ways, and her scent of jasmine. Zeke had to shake himself from his daydream to remember where he was, and that Fowler was talking to him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Zeke said.

"I said...I heard on the radio that we - Germany - Is losing the war. It could be over within 2 months even."

"Truly?" Wolfpac asked, leaning against the wall.

"As sure as the sun rises in the east. It's all over for us. The Allies are on their way to liberate us. It will probably be the Soviets that reach us first," Fowler looked down and shed a small amount of tears. "And...I'll be killed for my crimes."

Zeke moved towards the end of Fowler's bed, and scratched his head. "Why would the Russians want to kill you?"

"It's been happening all over. The Russians and the Americans have been killing all the Nazis they find as punishment for all the crimes we have committed. I doubt that they will spare me. Look at me, I am the biggest Nazi in the world, I'm a giant. They would love to execute me in their capital I bet, or that General Eisenhower fellow would like to do it; and if the Russians get me it may be my blood that paints Red Square red." Fowler cried.

Zeke kicked the side of the bed with his boot and cursed. "Damnit Fowler! We need you now. You are our only hope! If we have any hope of getting out of this alive then we must have your help!"

"Yes, Zeke is right." Wolfpac added.

Fowler took a few moments to collect himself, and sighed. He then turned over to Zeke and gave him all of his attention. "What do you have for me?"

Zeke handed Fowler a few folded up pieces of paper that were torn from his diary. Fowler graciously accepted them and unfolded them. He looked at them, and saw a few simple drawings and a large grouping of notes. It was their plan. Fowler read it over, and seemed genuinely impressed. He put the pieces of paper under his mattress and rolled out of bed and stood up. He was still naked. He wandered and took his uniform off of the rack, all this action surprised Zeke. He through Fowler was supposed to remain in bed. Apparently not...

Fowler, much to their relief, only grabbed a piece of paper out of his coat and walked over to them. Zeke and Wolfpac kind of missed being able to be physical with Fowler; he was still beautiful. He handed them the paper, and slid his way back into bed. Zeke opened the paper, and it was from the Director's notepad. It had the Nazi eagle at the top, and the Director's name. The note was addressed to someone named Meisterburger, and told this person they were supposed to park the old truck on Gooseberry Hill. Zeke read further down the note and saw that the note was an order, not a request. The order came from the Director and Fowler, and both had signed it at the bottom. What was this note for and how would this help them.

"What is this supposed to be?" Zeke asked as he held the note out. Wolfpac looked down and gave it a once-over, and shrugged. He had no clue as to what the letter meant either. Fowler had a slight smile on his face as he pulled the covers around himself a little tighter.

"That is your way of escaping once you get past the bodies. I knew that you would more than likely take that route. Your plan just confirmed it. So, I had a plan of my own. I was going to take our rickety old delivery truck that is just sitting around and rusting, and move it to were you need to be."

Zeke's heart almost turned cartwheels in his chest. This was too good to be true! They would have a chance after all!

"You mean...we'll have transportation?" Wolfpac asked softly. Fowler simply nodded proudly. Zeke jumped and threw his arms around Wolfpac in a deep and loving kiss. They would make it after all.

When the love stopped, Fowler coughed to get their attention. They looked at him.

"I have also made arrangements for you to have weapons. You are both going to be working in the furnace room. No one would think to look inside for them." Fowler smiled.

"But aren't they on right now?" Zeke asked in confusion.

"Not in the ash trays. Buried under the ash, you will find a pair of daggers that they give us soldiers. Use them well."

Zeke smiled and pocketed the note and nodded. "The Allies want their D day...well in 3 days time...we will have ours!"

Zeke and Wolfpac left the hospital and went around to find this man named Meisterburger. They found him over by the automotive area. He was a very short and very skinny male. Zeke thought he was a ferret. When they walked up, they were surprised to see that he was a ferret, and he didn't look like a happy one either. The male's face was covered with oil and grease, and he was dressed in Nazi Green cover-alls. The male looked over that them, and he whipped his hands on a rag. The male had to be no more than 4 feet tall.

"What d-do you w-want?" He asked. Zeke and Wolfpac turned and looked at each other in mild confusion, and then answered.

"We have a note for you from Commander Fowler and The Director." Wolfpac answered, reaching into Zeke's shirt pocket to produce the letter. The little ferret's eyes lit up and he looked at it like it was gold.

"F-Fowler? G-give it h-here y-you t-t-two." He asked. Once more the two looked at each other. A stuttering Nazi? This was fucking hilarious! They had to keep from laughing or they may end up dead. They smiled and bit their tongues to keep from laughing and handed Meisterburger the letter. He glanced it over, and grumbled.

"P-problem sir?" Wolfpac said, not realizing he was mimicking him. Zeke snickered once and then corrected himself before Meisterburger noticed. Meisterburger looked up at Wolfpac and sighed, he put the note in his cover-all pocket.

"Y-yes and n-no." The short ferret replied. Zeke put his arm on Zeke's shoulder and leaned against him.

"Tell us?" He asked.

The officer looked at them questioningly and then gave a shrug. "S-Sure. Y-You s-see t-that truck over t-there?" He asked as he pointed them in the right direction. Zeke and Wolfpac followed the ferret's finger and saw the truck. It was old all right. It was an open truck with two little round poles that supported a meager roof. The back of the truck had a small bed, and looked that a crank ran this truck. They could see the crank sticking out of the front. Zeke sighed...it could have been worse; it was a truck, and it was going to be his. At least it wasn't a bicycle.

"I see it." Zeke informed as he stared at the old green truck. The ferret walked around them and started to head towards it slowly.

"The t-thing r-runs like m-m-molasses, and it t-takes a r-real s-strong p-person to c-crank it." Meisterburger stuttered. "P-plus almost n-no one knows h-how to d-drive it."

Wolfpac looked it over, and shrugged. "It reminds me of the truck I drove back home. I'm sure it can't be too difficult." Wolfpac said, mainly towards the ferret, but also to give Zeke confidence. Zeke smiled and started to pace the ferret, Wolfpac close behind.

"W-well, that is o-only my f-first p-p-problem. T-The o-other p-problem is that I d-don't see w-why F-Fowler would w-want t-this old piece of j-junk p-parked on G-Gooseberry H-H-Hill."

"Gooseberry H-Hill?" Wolfpac mimicked again.

"Y-Yes, and s-stop m-m-m-mimicking m-me!" The officer said, his temper growing shorter.

"Alright Officer Meisterburger, what does bother you about Gooseberry Hill?" Zeke asked as they had finally reached the truck. Zeke looked it over, and nearly farted at how complicated it looked. On the driver's side there was a pair of levers, and there was a crank on front like he thought he had seen earlier. This thing seemed incredibly complicated to him. He decided he would watch how Meisterburger did it, and then he would do the same thing when he had to.

Meisterburger told them he would answer his question in a moment. He leaned down and began to crank the engine up. After about 6 turns, the engine began to rumble to life. The officer then hurried into the seat, and placed his foot on what Zeke figured was the clutch, and his hand on the first lever. Meisterburger then looked at the pair as he tilted his head.

"It d-doesn't m-make a-any sense. T-the truck c-can g-get s-stolen o-out there. I s-suppose t-that F-F-Fowler wan-wants to get r-rid of t-this thing a-any way he c-can. I d-don't b-blame him at all."

The male then stepped on the clutch and pulled the crank a few clicks towards him, and the truck began to pull away. Zeke watched the truck pull away and out of sight as it rounded a building. Zeke turned to Wolfpac, not quite sure how to feel at that moment.

"W-Well...n-now what?" Zeke asked softly.

Wolfpac laughed heartily and began to lead him back towards the barracks. "Aw, the one I love has caught a stutter." He said in a joke. Zeke's eyes opened wide and he didn't even realize that he had done that. He was elbowed twice in jest and he slowly melted into the flow of things. He laughed along and began to walk hand-in-hand with his love back to the barracks. As always, the pair got several leers from the Nazis, but they didn't matter to Zeke at all. He was going to break out in 3 days time.

That night, Zeke went to bed, and slept as soundly as he had in 3 years. He felt good, and was going to love being free again.

Zeke had a dream. He dreamt that he was standing in Berlin, and he had just killed Schmidt, and Adolph Hitler himself was being gang-raped by every man that wanted some. The dream gave Zeke the added boost he needed. He longed to see Hitler dead. He knew Italy had fallen, and Mussolini was killed by his own troops and countrymen. Zeke absently snickered in his sleep. He could imagine it now. It was going to be all over for Germany.