"I cannot protect you if I do not know where you go," he stated.
Taylor nodded in agreement. "The ship Erdogan came here in. You say it was famed for having jump gate capacity."
"Yes."
"And it was the only known ship of your people to do so?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I do not know."
"But you are sure it is the only one?"
"I believe so."
"What's going on, Colonel?" asked Grey.
He carried on walking without saying a word. He knew Dupont had asked him to keep it all to himself, but he wasn't one for keeping things from those who he depended on to have his back. He shook his head and finally came out with it.
"Follow me, and I'll explain everything, but it ain't pretty."
Chapter 11
"Sure you want to do this?"
Jones looked up and only had to think for a few seconds before he said loudly, "Damn right!"
"Cologne, here we come."
The pilot had been a volunteer, and Jones had not even thought to ask a single thing about young female pilot besides check the name on her uniform; Befort, and her rank Lieutenant. She showed no fear as she guided them down towards a landing zone at an enemy base.
"You know, just because we go in flying a white flag, doesn't mean they'll give us a free pass. They're just as likely to shoot us, Sir," said Private Wood.
"Yeah, maybe, but we can only do what we can do."
"I told you," said Befort, "This is an unarmed liaison ship. They will not fire on us."
As they came into land, they could see a dozen soldiers waiting with weapons in hand.
"Sure about that?" Evans asked, as he looked out through the cockpit.
"What do we do?" asked Wood, "Put our weapons down?"
"No, we came to talk under a white flag, not to surrender. Keep your weapons on you but lowered at all times," replied Jones, "Show no sign of aggression, and know that you cannot fire upon them, no matter what reason you might have. Once the firing starts we're finished, so don't let it begin."
Jones opened the ramp of the ship and stepped out. It was no larger than that Taylor had recently travelled in, the only difference being everything worked on board. He jumped out with empty hands, though still with his sidearm on his thigh. Wood and Evans followed as he asked and kept two paces behind him.
"You have five minutes to say what you have to say, and then you leave!" an officer shouted.
Jones nodded in agreement. At least they're not shooting us...yet, he thought.
"I request an audience with General Schulz!" he responded.
"And you are?"
"Captain Charlie Jones, Inter-Allied Regiment!"
The name clearly meant something to the officer, and he turned to a few other soldiers sanding behind him and shared a few words before looking back to Jones.
"You may confer with me. I am Lieutenant..."
The man stopped as he was clearly getting a transmission through a comms device in his helmet. He seemed surprised by what he was hearing, and appeared to argue with whoever was on the line for a moment before going silent and looking back to Jones.
"The General...will be with you momentarily...please stay where you are!"
Jones nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Lieutenant!"
He turned around and looked back at the two Privates behind him. They watched the German forces around them like hawks, although they all knew they were powerless to defend themselves.
"Sure this is a good idea, Sir?" asked Wood.
"Not really, but we'll all out of options."
"Why would he help us, Sir?"
"Because he isn't an evil man, Evans. He's fallen on the wrong side in this fight, but he hasn't always been the enemy."
"You're clutching at straws a bit, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah," replied Jones without hesitation.
They waited for five minutes without speaking another word. Finally, they could hear a vehicle approaching, and they turned to see an armoured officers’ command car rolling towards them.
"Stay where you are, and make no attempt to raise your weapons!" the Lieutenant said firmly.
The vehicle came to a halt, and Schulz stepped out with two other officers. One was already whispering in his ear before the door of the vehicle was shut, and it was all too clear that the man did not like Jones or his presence. But more than that, he appeared to be underhand and conniving in his actions. Jones could see he would be a thorn in their side.
Schulz had bags under his eyes. His skin was pale and his hair thinner than when they had last met. It wasn't just age that had weathered him; he had the look of a man suffering under a great burden. Jones saluted him as he approached, and Schulz smiled and returned the greeting before coming to a stop before him.
"Captain Jones. I wish we could meet under better circumstances, although I am glad to see you are well."
His voice was friendly and sounded genuine and honest.
This is not a man actively working for the enemy, Jones thought.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
It was an odd scenario, as the General appeared to address him as a friend.
"Sir, I am searching for my wife. She was taken by clandestine forces with the UEN from a military hospital in Meaux."
"I am sorry to hear that, Captain. It sounds a most bizarre situation. Are you sure those are the facts?"
"I am," growled Jones, "I saw it with my own eyes."
"I can honestly say that it had nothing to do with those under my command. I would never give such an order, or knowingly let such a thing happen. There are rules in war as there are in peace."
It was the most friendly and amenable Jones had ever seen the General.
"My sympathies, Captain, but I am not sure how I can help."
"Sir, the craft she was taken away on we tracked to this base. From here on, we have no idea where she was taken, but I beg of you to pursue this and find her for me."
One of the officers beside the General leaned in and spoke in his ear. It was the same dubious character Jones had previously disliked. He knew he was going to be a problem from the moment he first saw him. The General began to respond but was interrupted by the man's whispering once more.
"I am sorry, Captain, but we have no records of any such craft having arrived...and there is nothing more I can do."
"Excuse me, Sir, but that's bullshit and you know it. This is your base. This is your army, and this is on your conscience, should you refuse to help."
The man who had been whispering beside the General finally stepped forward. He was in his early forties and slight. He appeared to have an eternal sleazy smile across his face that stank of an untrustworthy character. He wore the uniform of a Major, but he did not carry himself like an officer, more a politician.
“Excuse me, Captain,” he interrupted before Schulz could continue, “but the General does not owe you any favours. We are not aware of your wife’s location, nor do we have any duty to assist you in finding her. She is, after all, an enemy combatant. In fact, we should rightly have you detained, right now.”
Jones was disgusted by his comments.
“You’re a wretched excuse for a man,” he replied, “We came here under a flag of truce.”
“And yet I see no flag,” he replied with a wicked smile.
Jones could already tell the situation was going south. The Major was clearly either an alien agent or a heavily indoctrinated sympathiser. Taylor turned his attention back to Schulz, whom he appeared to be making some headway with.
“Sir, I please ask you again. You are the only man I can turn to for help now. Forces within your control are holding my wife or know who is. Will you help me?”