Valiant Crimes

“Lieutenant Raine, Agent Nine wasn’t in the cell, there was just a dead Nazi with his head blown off next to it,” the wide eyed man says entering the room from the other side.
“That’s fine we got her, Utivich,” the Lieutenant Raine responds walking to the room the woman just entered. He saw her trying different sets of keys to unlock the handcuffs.
“Need help with that?” he inquires approaching her. She didn’t say anything just kept on struggling to unlock the handcuffs.
“My name is Lieutenant Aldo Raine, we are here on orders to rescue you, you’re Agent Nine correct?” he says. She looked up at the man with a look of boredom, as to say he was an idiot for asking. Aldo had heard from his superiors that Agent Nine wasn’t much of a talker and that’s what made her a good soldier, because she only spoke when absolutely necessary or when her commanding officers ordered her to do so. The woman remained silent as she found the correct key that unlocked her bond wrists and took the handcuffs off rubbing her wrists gently upon the new freedom. She wondered why Aldo Raine was still standing there looking at her seeing that she was free now and didn’t need any further assistance.
“Here’s the message Commander Johnson wanted you to have,” Aldo says upon seeing she would not respond and handed her a letter. She took it impatiently from his hands and opened it, scanning the words that were displayed on the piece of paper with the familiar handwriting on it. Aldo watched as her upper lip upwards into a snarl of annoyance. The letter entailed that she would have to follow Aldo’s orders and become part of his team so that they could have some insight how his operation ran. It was her punishment for failing to follow orders. She placed the letter in a nearby metal wastebasket and threw a lantern into it, igniting all the papers to catch fire. As the papers burned she turned her attention to get her weapons back and began searching through boxes in hopes of finding them. Opening the correct box revealed her knife in its sheath and two expensive looking matching customized handguns with the initials on the handle. She put on her holster carefully not to irritate the skin that was ripped to bits underneath the blood stained shirt that was once white but now was a dark maroon from the amount of blood spilled on it. Pulling out a pair of boots that were much too big for her feet from the area, she put on two pairs of socks in hopes to make the shoe fit better. It was a bit pointless but she laced the boots up feeling the scabs on her back cracking open. Ready as she’d ever be, she stood with a stoic expression waiting for Aldo’s orders.
“Well suppose that means you’re ready to go, come on,” Aldo says unsure how to act around this new addition to his crew. Had he known it was a woman they were adding he probably would have argued with the high command. The rest of the Basterds were confused yet entranced that Agent Nine was a woman.
“Alright fellas this here is Agent Nine, high command wants her to tag along with us for a little while,” Aldo announces gesturing to the woman next to him who just stood there with a bored expression. The men were shocked, a woman did not belong with the Basterds, they were called Basterds for a reason, they did unspeakable things to Nazis and well they were sure a woman wouldn’t do those things right along with them.
“We are heading out now come on,” Aldo orders sniffing up some of his snuff from a small canister. Agent Nine strode towards the exit sick of the gawking and looks of disbelief, Aldo followed closely behind as the men took a hint to leave as well.

They walked for miles in silence, until Agent Nine stopped in her tracks upon hearing something she broke into a sprint towards the west. None of the Basterds knew what she was doing, but they tried to keep with her then they saw what she was after. It was a Nazi soldier on the run, what most would call a scout. They all watched in awe as she pounce on the man like a tiger getting their pray. Disarming him swiftly and turning his own guns against him she kept one foot on his throat hitting him with the butt of the rifle in the face. The man groaned in pain as he cursed in German.

“Good work lets see if we can get some information as to where this one was headed,” Aldo says gesturing for Agent Nine to ease her pressure on the man’s throat. She looked up at Aldo even making him uneasy with the intensity in her golden eyes as she hit the man again with the rifle before walking off. The Nazi soldier on the ground moaned holding his bleeding face with his hands. As Aldo interrogated the soldier for information Agent Nine stood with a stoic expression taking in the whole scene around them to be sure there were no more Nazis around.

Aldo wasn’t getting anywhere with the man and Agent Nine sensed this was pointless so she pointed the rifle at the soldier’s nose. Being that she was to the left of him about twenty yards away with no obstructions she took this opportunity to shoot his nose off his face. The man’s screams erupted throughout the forest as the blood streamed from his face. He began talking then, his eyes filled with fear looking at the woman who had just shot his own nose off. The men held him down and Aldo began carving the swastika on his forehead. Agent Nine remained silent yet secretly displeased they let the man alive.

All the Basterds were getting increasingly uneasy with the woman’s quiet demeanor and wanted to know how she became such an excellent marksman or rather markswoman. Donny was the first to talk of course, it was obvious that he was impressed and he walked alongside of her hoping to be the one to get her to talk.
“Where’d ya learn how to shoot like that?” Donny inquires in his Boston accent. Agent Nine merely ignored his question and kept walking ahead of him. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, she never was. It was best to keep quiet and wait for this punishment to be over. The group kept walking for hours at end until they stopped at an abandoned cabin. Aldo saw that the woman kept her distance and was always on guard being that she would keep an eye on all the possible exits. He was given specific instructions about her although at the time he wasn’t aware it was a woman, he was told she was stubborn, mean, tough and reclusive. There were some murmurs he heard about her marksmanship but he thought that they were just rumors.
“Come with me,” Aldo orders looking at Agent Nine as he started heading towards the one bedroom of the cabin. She made no expression just followed her superior to the bedroom. Once inside Aldo shut the door and looked at the woman standing before him waiting for what his point was for bringing her in there.
“Sit,” he says gesturing to the slightly dusty bed. Obeying her orders she sat down, her posture straight to avoid anymore splitting of her fresh back wounds.
“Although it was a damn good thing ya caught him, but I can’t very well have ya goin’ off like ya did without tellin’ me what ya were doin’, yer under my command now,” Aldo states sternly. Clenching her jaw avoiding the temptation to say anything, she nodded as to say she understood.
“Ya don’ have to talk to no one if ya don’ wanna but ya better give me some sort of warning when ya go off like ya had,” he continues assessing her reaction to his orders. She nodded again feeling the tickle of warm thick liquid running down her spine. Inside she was hoping Aldo would make this real quick before he could notice the blood. Both parties clenched their jaws as if there was some foul stench in the room, but there was nothing of this sort, this gesture was their way of showing stubbornness and strength.
“Right well ya can get up and go now,” Aldo says seeing that he wasn’t going to get much of a reaction from her. She stood up and Aldo noticed the bedspread had blood a fresh coat of blood on it where she had been.
“On second thought stay in here, yer bleedin’, were ya shot?” he inquires placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her in her tracks. Involuntarily flinching because his hand rested on a wound, she shrugged his hand off that was now light glazed with her blood.
“Right well ya sit down I’ll have Wicki clean ya up, I’ll find ya a new shirt,” Aldo states as he opened the door yelling for Wicki to come in there with the medical supplies and a new shirt. Wicki came in with a bag and looked at Aldo for further orders.
“Show us yer back, so we can clean ya up,” Aldo says looking at the woman. Turning her back to them she slowly unbuttoned the front of the oversized shirt letting it slip down her shoulders but made sure to hold up the fabric to the front so her chest was not exposed. Neither were prepared for the sight before them, there were slashes all over her back some crusted over dry, others still seeping out blood, the gashes were worse than the ones they had seen on Hugo Stiglitz when they had first gotten him out of prison. It looked as though someone was whipping her with razors at the ends of the whip. Wicki looked at Aldo with the same shocked expression.
“I’m a get ya that shirt and a lot of whiskey,” Aldo says walking out of the room.
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable lying on your stomach for this,” Wicki suggests sitting down on the bed taking out the medical supplies. She didn’t respond just remained sitting giving Wicki the answer to his suggestion. He started to clean the wounds carefully with peroxide and a cloth. The wounds sizzled reacting to the peroxide.
“I’m Wilhelm Wicki by the way,” he says in his deep voice as he cleaned her wounds.
“Here got ya some whiskey,” Aldo states coming into the room with a flask and handed it to Agent Nine. She took it gladly, drinking most of its contents within the minute.
“What’s your name?” he asks. She didn’t answer; she didn’t have to answer him, he didn’t order her to answer him so she kept her mouth shut.
“God damn it do I really have to order ya to tell me yer name?” Aldo questions sounding a little incredulous of how ridiculous of a person this woman was being. Inside she was laughing and fighting the urge to let a smile slip on her expressionless face.
“Alright fine, I order you to tell me your name,” he states with his hands on his hips.
“Rosaline Thrasher,” she responds in a raspy voice. It had been a long time since she had spoken a word to anyone.
“Well I’ll call ya by either Thrasher or Ross, is that fine with ya?” Aldo inquires. Ross shrugged uncaringly and Wilhelm Wicki continued to clean the wounds.
“Are there any other wounds ya need cleanin’ up,” Aldo asks next seeing that Wilhelm was nearly finished. Ross shook her head to answer no, and they began bandaging her up. Aldo and Wilhelm noticed the bruises that scattered up and down her arms along with her neck. It angered them how badly the Nazis tortured her yet it astonished them that not once she make a noise when they cleaned her up, they knew it was likely that she didn’t make a noise as these wounds were inflicted upon her as well. Aldo handed Ross a black tee shirt to wear and she took it without saying a word as the men exited the room to give her some privacy. She took off the bloodied shirt and slipped the fresh one carefully over her head.

There was a dusty vanity set with a mirror in the middle of it and Ross walked over rubbing the dirt off it to see her reflection. It was strange to see how bedraggled she looked and Ross tried her best to wipe the blood off her face along with pull back her crazed hair to look a little more proper. She had a small cut and bruise on her right cheekbone wear she had been punched by one of the Nazis at the prison. After cleaning the dry blood from her face she took her things and headed out of the room.

The Basterds all stopped talking to look at Ross. Their eyes took in her more put together appearance and saw all the cuts and bruises that scattered along her exposed arms. Now without the blood on her face and wild chestnut brown hair pulled back they could see her facial features better. She looked incredibly feminine in the face with naturally full red lips that were in the shape of Cupid’s bow and a sprinkle of light freckles over her nose with long eyelashes that were jet black. Ross was a natural beauty yet they all knew she was dangerous as they come. She ignored their stares and sat herself in a wooden chair with her back to everyone.

“Here, ya must be hungry, I doubt they fed ya while ya were in there,” Aldo says getting up and handing Ross a sandwich. Ross took the sandwich her stomach rumbling a little at the sight of food. Aldo went back to his spot and Ross ate the sandwich savoring the food as if she would never have anything ever again. The men continued their conversations but every once in a while would look to Ross whom just stared out the window with her arms crossed in front of her body. This was going to be quite the lesson to learn for not following direct orders.