Sniper's Justice (Caje Cole Book 9) David Healey (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📖

cracked his knuckles with rulers, ridiculed him, even beaten him with a stick on more than one occasion. He had hated those nuns, yet as a boy, there was nothing he could do about it.

Or so he thought.

One of the cruelest of the nuns had been Sister Agnes. The fact that he remembered her name was a testament to the lasting impression she had made. Of all the nuns, she was the one who singled him out the most with her cruelty.

“You are stupid!” she had said, making him stand in front of the class as she diminished him in front of the others. “Dummkopf! You will never amount to more than a street sweeper!”

He had glared at her then, so much venom in his angry stare that she had looked away.

Hauer never had a clear plan in mind, but he knew that one day he would get even with this evil witch. His chance had come one day when he had glimpsed Sister Agnes headed for the stairs. It was an old building and the stairs were steep. She paused at the top and reached for the railing.

The halls were crowded with students, talking and hurrying to the next class, which gave Hauer the perfect camouflage. Quick as a cat, in the second before she had gotten a good grip on the railing, Hauer slipped up behind the old nun and shoved her with all his might. By the time she started to fall, he had already melted back into the mix of children looking on, horrified, as Sister Agnes tumbled down the stairs, her black habit flapping like the feathers of a bird tumbling from the sky. She landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, moaning, one of her legs twisted at a terrible angle.

The boy had smiled, thinking, Not such a dummkopf, am I?

None of the other children had seen him. Still, he had half-expected to be struck down by a bolt of lightning. Instead, that one moment of action had left him blissfully free from the nun’s tyranny.

Hauer had embraced the fact that officially Hitler’s Germany was agnostic—the only true church being the Third Reich. In the early days, Hitler and his minions had rounded up any meddlesome priests and nuns, then locked them inside the concentration camp at Dachau.

Hauer thought that it was a good place for them. He had long ago cast off whatever shreds remained of his upbringing in the church. After all, he had turned his back on religion many years ago, when he had shoved that witch down the stairs.

As for this nun, perhaps she needed to be taught a lesson as well.

She tried to pick up her pace, but it was no use. Hauer quickly caught up to her. Her heart hammered, recalling that he had attempted to drop a dead man on her head. She glanced at the soldiers on duty along the street, but they either watched in amusement or looked away, clearly with no intention of interfering with whatever Hauer had in mind. The sniper seemed to intimidate many of his fellow soldiers.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“If I cannot get help from your commanding officer, then I have much to do,” she replied without looking at him. “Besides, if you have not noticed, it is quite cold out.”

“I don’t know why you are bothering with those prisoners,” he said. “Why don’t you help our good German wounded?”

“You have your own medical personnel,” she said. “What do the Americans have?”

“I would not worry about them too much,” he said. “We might still shoot them. Who knows?”

“I pray that you are wrong.”

She felt Hauer’s eyes staring intently at her face.

“You are too pretty to be a nun,” he said. “Why would God waste you this way?”

“Waste me, how?” Sister Anne Marie was taken aback.

“Turn a pretty girl into a crow.”

“That was God’s decision, not mine.”

Hauer suddenly grabbed her by the arm. “I would like to get you alone and teach you a thing or two that you did not learn in the convent.” He gave her a lewd, knowing smile. “Maybe you can do more while on your knees than pray.”

“Get your hands off me!”

Hauer did not let go, but began pushing her toward the doorway of an empty house. “Come, come. The prisoners can wait. This won’t take long.”

Hauer’s intentions were all too clear. She slapped at his hands, but he didn’t let go, dragging her closer to the empty house. Only a small desire for dignity kept her from screaming for help.

“Hauer! That is enough!”

An older soldier came toward them.

“Never mind about me, Scholz,” Hauer said.

But the soldier wasn’t having any of that. He blocked their path, forcing Hauer to stop. “A nun, Hauer? Really? What kind of Dummkopf are you?”

At the word Dummkopf, Hauer let go of Sister Anne Marie and rounded on the sergeant, big fists clenched in his leather gloves, clearly enraged.

“What did you call me?”

Hauer was much larger than the sergeant, but the man looked tough as an old tree stump left to weather in a field. He was not the least bit cowed by the sniper. He set his feet, his own fists clenched. If it was a fight Hauer wanted, it was clear he was going to get one. “I will call you whatever I want, Gefreiter Hauer. Get back to your post. That is an order.”

Hauer glared at the noncommissioned officer, but kept his mouth shut. He turned his attention back to Sister Anne Marie. She did not think that she had ever seen such a look of malevolence. Thankfully, he had released his grip on her.

“This is not over, Sister,” he said. “All the prayers in the world will not help you now.”

Chapter Fourteen

The commander of the U.S. forces poised to attack Wingen sur Moder had called a truce. He wanted a parlay with the Germans in the village. In preparation for meeting