272 | John. W. Warner IV ours. We have nothing to worry about if Be quiet, all of you! yelled Klemperer, who angrily pointed here and there, his chair ejected behind him. He looked to Schafer. One of my mountain men is dead, Ernst. American, African, and British kommandos, pack radio and armed heavily. One schwartzer animal with an automatic rifle and a thousand-meter stare of a fucking Zulu lion hunter, a run-down middle-aged Yank occultist with a duplicitous Tom Mix smile, two highborn women snipers with precision rifles who would no doubt eat their own young if necessary, the auburn-haired one a bitch traitor to the Reich. He looked to Bernie. Who do you think we are? Fools? He waved, and an enlisted man smartly handed him Bernies captured Gradiometer. He shook it violently. Whats this, eh? An MI6 tin toy? He smashed it to splinters on the polished stones outside the tent using both arms. Hes the equivalent to a Brit major? asked Alice, mouth full of cream, trying hard to remember all the confusing German ranks and insignia. Oh, hmm, said Bea. Bit of a temper on him, reminds me of Poppy. Oh, hmm. Relaxed, Schafer waved him off, his boots on the tables corner. Now, now, Klemp, sit and cool down, kamerade, were amongst honored guests, fellow historians and explorers, not combatants. ‘The war is far-r-r-r away. Be polite, thats an order. After all, we are going to be living and working together for a very, very long time. He noticed with the keen eyes of a primatologist that Alice was taking a subconscious interest in the handsome Klemperer. He grabbed her chin gently, the cream dripping. Perhaps…this fetching blonde beauty with high cheekbones and excellent fitness would make a fine Aryan housewife for you someday. Oh, but you have a slight bullet graze, my dear. Tish, tish, makes you even more lovely. Hausfrau? What did he say? A wife? asked Alice, concerned, flapping her matted hair back and forth as she looked for an answer from someone. Why you Goth gargoyles… Bea and Bernie laughed, then the entire table. Ive forgotten how amusing ol Ernst can be with a few drinks in him, thought Bea. Hate to say it but hes almost likeable. Schafer got up and poured glass after glass. Im kidding of course. More champagne. Come, come, everyone drink, we have much to celebrate today. Grumbles of agreement with nodding heads.