Part II<br/><br/>Hamish held his next shot, waiting for there to be a reaction of some sort. He had planned to use the confusion to slip inside the guard ring. His position was no longer in his favor as he could see nothing that was happening through the window. Forms passed, casting their shadowy outlines through the thin fabric but Hamish had no idea who was who anymore. From this distance he could hear nothing and while the few perimeter guards shuffled their feet and looked at each other, no one even seemed to be highly alerted.<br/><br/>The curse of evil men. No one gives a damn as long as it isn’t them in the crosshairs of fate.<br/><br/>Hamish had to get closer, something felt off and he suddenly found he was worried for his new friend. It no longer mattered if she were a witch or not, she was a connection to something deeper, stirrings he had not felt in any time he could remember. It was not the rage that drove him to Chaya’s tormentors, a volcanic eruption of the purest anger at the fear behind her eyes as she was brutally kicked and beaten. This was a softer concern.<br/><br/>Hamish had spoken to many people about the nurse and he had been told glorious tales of her humble healing touch. So how had she raised the ire of someone so high in the Nazi party? The blonde man and woman were a part of this somehow for they kept appearing in the peripherals of his task. They were both high ranking officers and both now in her clinic. Yet not a single fire had been shot nor had any commander come to the door to relay orders.<br/><br/>Hamish did not like confusion. Confusion was far worse than simply not knowing or even fear. Fear required a humility that one was somehow flawed. Hamish had no such concept of himself. Confusion on the other hand meant a loss of control. Someone had out maneuvered him. Had Fabiano simply been a trap? Set up for him to take out so they would have a reason further question Isolde? He knew such tactics had been used before but this did not feel like such a set up as there were far too many variables. It would mean someone knew exactly what he was capable of doing.<br/><br/>A medical car pulled up, sirens cutting through the quiet day with its piercing cacophony and after a few minutes removed the covered body of the Italian officer. He was no longer even an afterthought for the assassin as he watched the door closed to the clinic. The medical car pulled away with no more fanfare, sirens silent enough to put the dead back to sleep.<br/><br/>The longer Hamish watched through the scope, the more questions went unanswered. He needed information and he was not going to get that from here. He removed the scope from his rifle and simply left the rifle in the abandoned bird coop. Once on the street, his mind went to work mapping the closest alleys and keeping track of the distance and time. A plan to use his badge sprang into mind but a<span style="font-style: italic">Reichsinspektur</span>badge was not a military rank, it was mostly a political position. It gave him no say in military matters but gave him tremendous power for moving around and being generally left alone. The Generals may order the troops but politics ordered the Generals, hence a healthy respect was given to his station. But ultimately, if they wanted to arrest Isolde, there was little he could do to stop them.<br/><br/>It was only a moment or two later that the map in his head and the clinic converged. He was in an alley way across the street and a few doors down. He could not make out very much of what was happening but a small crowd was gathering in curiosity. The clinic was somewhat of a safe spot for most, a refuge where they could simply be. Jewish or not, they were all in the same boat here, injured, frightened, and in need.<br/><br/>But there would be no wave of outrage over the clinics destruction. No chance to sow chaos. Fear is powerful and at that moment, Hamish despised the human race. So capable and yet they seemed to exist only to destroy. The small crowd could easily overpower the lazy soldiers half-heartedly keeping them back but they would not. They were locked with fear and despair. They knew the clinic was done and only needed to feed their idle curiosity on how brutal the act would be.<br/><br/>How many of these people had she saved? How many lives had she touched with her selfless acts of healing? And the only one brave enough to face down whatever was inside the clinic was the shadow no one wanted to acknowledge. The monster in the dark corners.<br/><br/>Hamish almost had to laugh at how this clinic was certainly not made to be infiltrated. One door led inside, small intermittent windows, solid brick structure, and no roof access made the clinic secure against thieves. It also meant Hamish had no way in except the front door. A lot of people were going to die, himself included. If he did manage to get away, his cover would be blown. He would have to flee Germany with open contracts, something he had never done.<br/><br/>Hamish retreated into the shadows of the alleyway and closed his eyes. For some reason, at that moment, Chaya came to his thoughts. He wished he had taken the time to get to know her. She seemed a lovely young woman, and Hamish would have enjoyed seeing her smile. He worried a thought for Myra and Josef but felt they were survivors. They would endure and he could only hope Chaya would also. Her young mind could still bounce back from the trauma.<br/><br/>Hamish gripped his pistol in his right hand and withdrew one of the knives, blade held down, in his left. He took several deep breaths until he felt the usual calm all the way into his bones. His decision was made, the consequences would be severe no matter what happened next. All he could do now was put every ounce of energy and focus into getting her out. He stepped out of the shadows of the alley just as the door of the clinic reopened.<br/><br/>They were leaving. They looked irritated, as if whatever they were after still lay just out of their reach. Hamish stepped back into the shadows and watched as the officers left the clinic, wordlessly glaring at one another and no one. Car doors opened and closed, started and drove off. A large man of a definite mean temperament was the last to leave, behind him he drug a limp body with a shock of long red hair. The large man barked some commands at the nearest officer who ran to the door with chalk and the word<span style="font-style: italic">“verboten”</span>was scrawled for all to see.<br/><br/>Hamish was sickened by the dispirited gasp that ran through the small crowd. He would mark this memory into his newly found well of knowledge. People were generally cowards. The remarkable few who were not would change the world, for better or worse. No one else could really be trusted.<br/><br/>There was a short flurry of activity as soldiers marked the building like a dog in new territory. Then they too were gone, dispersed into the wind of humanity, leaving two soldiers behind to steal the medicines from the clinic. They left her lying on the sidewalk. There was no dignity for her there. Her dress was ripped, her flesh exposed to the cruel, cold sun, and white snow painted the gray backdrop as her blood left smears and drops from fresh and horrible wounds.<br/><br/>Hamish approached her slowly. His mind in shock at what he was seeing. As he stepped closer the guards began challenging him, demanding he stay away. He ignored them and their threats. They could not touch him. Not today. Not ever again. They had broken a symbol of hope and left it to rot in a city that stank with the excrement of hate and fear.<br/><br/>The guards stepped up to push him backwards. Hamish slowly looked at the hand that was shoving him in the chest. It strained to move him but his balance was perfect, his mind clear, and now his soul had joined in the fight. The knife in his left hand flashed, removing the hand in a clean stroke. The guard screamed and the knife plunged through the flimsy material of the winter coat and burst into the liver. A simple raking gesture opened the soldier across the pelvis, organs and life racing to the ground.<br/><br/>Hamish withdrew his knife and forgot about the soldier. He was dead. Good riddance.<br/><br/>The second soldier watched his friend die in an eye blink and stood shocked as the smallish bald man raised the gun in his hand and fired. The soldier blinked at the retort but felt the bullet enter at the base of his neck, tearing through his throat and vocal cords before exiting out the back. The shot left him partially alive but unfortunately did not severe the spinal cord. The soldier died trying futilely to hold the blood in and grasp air. Hamish dismissed him as well before kneeling before the beautiful woman.<br/><br/>She was breathing.<br/><br/>It was slow and ragged but she was breathing! Hamish laughed aloud, a moment of pure and unabashed joy surged through him. They had broken the symbol but it was not dead!<br/><br/>Hamish ran inside and quickly cleaned the clinic of it’s medicine. He would sort it out once she was safe. Back outside a few people were gathering around her, some were patting her hand and crying.<br/><br/>“Get away from her if you wish to live out your pathetic lives any longer,” he said. His voice cold, distant, and full of promise.<br/><br/>“We can help,” offered one man.<br/><br/>“You had your chance to help!” Hamish retorted. He made no attempt to hide the venom in his voice. “But you stand by and let everyone else fight for you. Go hide in your homes with whatever lies you feed yourself so you can sleep.”<br/><br/>Hamish knelt in the stunned silence and easily lifted her limp form from the ground. The crowd watched in stunned silence as this seemingly normal man carried her into the shadows of a nearby alley, and seemingly disappeared. Later, when the police came around and discovered the bodies of the dead soldiers, no one could quite describe the fierce man. Only that he was deadly and seemed to materialize from the shadows.<br/><br/>WEEKS LATER<br/><br/>January, 1940 Munich, Germany<br/><br/>She had opened her eyes finally. Weeks of bedrest, constant care, and a lot of worried nights but when Hamish returned that morning, Chaya reported that she had opened her eyes. Hamish shared a smile with her and moved swiftly up the stairs.<br/><br/>He had put her in the master bedroom. The huge bed was the most comfortable and Hamish was surprised by how many remedies he knew to care for the cuts and bruises. Time and her own energies seemed to take care of the rest. Hamish leaned in the doorway and watched as she lie there, just breathing. Hamish smiled as he felt Chaya stand beside him. The smile no longer felt so unusual to him.