Chapter Seven: K

Carter didn't know what had happened. Not really.

One second, the Kraut had been eating out of the palm of his hand, believing everything he had said. The next, that same stupid Kraut had seen right through him, and now he was here, in a holding cell, smack dab in the middle of Gestapo Headquarters.

In just a few minutes, they'd question him, beat him up, and beat him up again. Over and over, until he either spilled the beans, or won a free ticket to the firing squad.

Carter didn't want to be scared, but his heart was pounding out of his chest anyway. Knowing him, his big mouth would give away everything, way before the first round of torture had even started.

No, he couldn't think like that. He had to distract himself. He needed to push everything out of his mind, and focus only on the stuff that couldn't kill his friends.

The paper. Thank goodness it wasn't in his pocket. It had his friend's name on it. And, that's what he'd focus on. He closed his eyes and went over it in his mind, picturing each letter.

NEWKIRK. Nifty. Yep, I'm wearing those socks right now, buddy. And you know what? My feet aren't even cold. And in a place like this to boot!

Exceptional. Boy, would you believe it? We've traded places on that one! Now, I'm the guy with the Gestapo. Who would've thought it, huh?

Wisecracker. I bet you'd call this just another excuse to skip work detail, huh?

Kind. You know, you were right about that whole loyalty thing. I bet if you guys know where I'm at, I'll be out of here in a jiffy. Maybe even in time for morning roll call.

Irreplaceable. Ya got that right, boy! What would the poor frauleins do without you? Not to mention what would we do without you?

Rock. Geez, I sure could use some of that in here. You wouldn't crack, ever. Well, I'm not going to, either. You just watch. Those filthy whatever LeBeau calls them, Boches, won't get a single word out of me.

K. Huh, I forgot that I never finished…

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and then, the door opened. A mean looking Gestapo agent stepped into the room. Carter gulped, but looked straight into his chilly gray eyes anyway.

There was no way this man, or the entire Gestapo fleet for that matter, were going to get anything out of him.

No matter what.

~HH~

Only a few seconds had passed since he'd been thrown back into his cell after his round of questioning, but he heard more footsteps. Back so soon? He squeezed his eyes closed and threw an arm over them. No cracking. Yes, he hurt, but it was just pain. He'd keep mum for years if he had to, as long as his friends would be alright.

The footsteps grew closer. "The nerve of you Dummkophs! What am I going to tell Le Führer, if his prize double agent is already dead? Did you not think that he wanted to have the honor of killing such a treacherous enemy of the all powerful Third Reich?" a voice echoed down the hallway. A mean voice.

Carter wanted to black out before it got closer. But, he couldn't. The Gestapo had ways of making sure of that.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Herr Major. Our orders-,"

"My orders are from the Führer; did he give you your orders?"

"No," some keys jingled. "No, Herr Major. Please, beg the Führer to forgive us!"

"The Führer forgives no one!" the major sneered. "That is why, for my sake, this man better be alive!"

The door flew open and Carter slowly sat up. It seemed like he was in a movie- the scene where the prisoner gets taken away to the electric chair. Only, the executioner looked a lot like Newkirk with a mustache.

"On your feet!" Newkirk barked, hoping that Carter could do so.

The young technical sergeant leapt up, but swayed from the effort. Newkirk showed no concern. "Out, raus!"

Carter just stood there, blinking. He didn't want to fall over, but he collapsed anyway. Newkirk was at his side in an instant, raging on about how the Führer would not be pleased at this. He pulled Carter up, half dragging him out the door.

~HH~

Once in the car, Newkirk dropped the gruff, mean Nazi profile and looked over at his friend. "Andrew, what did those bloody Krauts do to you?"

"Nothing much," Carter whispered. He groaned as the car suddenly lurched over a speed bump.

"Nothing much, 'e says." Newkirk sighed. He didn't look at all convinced, but he didn't press Carter either. Carter was in for a huge break from work detail, that much he was sure of.

They drove on in silence for quite some time, until Newkirk cleared his throat nervously and glanced over at his friend, "Andrew, there's an old English word me mum used to say. Blimey, the word's dead everywhere, but she over killed the bloody word anyway. Cene, it is. Means bold, brave, valiant. Don't know quite 'ow to use it, never 'ad to. But, I think you're about as 'cene' as they come."

Carter didn't know what to say, and then he had an idea. "How do you spell it, Newkirk?"

Newkirk blinked. That was not the response he was expecting."What?"

"How is it spelled? With a K, or a C?"

"Blimey, Andrew, 'ow should I know? The word's dead, and so is most of me education," Newkirk kept his eyes glued to the road, but he could still feel Carter's gaze resting on him. He groaned, "Cor, I 'ave no clue! K-E-N- E, I should imagine."

Carter grinned weakly. "Hey, that'll work just great," he sighed before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. A dull throb was working its way up and down his side, but he was too tired to pay it any mind.

After several minutes, Newkirk glanced once more over at his friend who was fast asleep. "Cene indeed, poor lad."

~HH~

"Nifty?" Newkirk's eyebrows went up with every word on the crinkled paper. "Exceptional? Wisecracker? Kind? Irreplaceable? Rock? Kene? Blimey, Andrew, I don't think I deserve all this 'ero worship."

"Course you do!" Carter smiled. "My mom used to do this for all her best friends. Once, she even did one for me! Can you imagine- Little Deer Who Runs Swift And Sure Through The Forest? Geez, I think it took her a whole month!"

"And, you really think all of this is true about me?" Newkirk's voice was soft, almost like he was hoping Carter would say yes.

"Of course I do, buddy! You're one of the best people I know!"

"I'll keep it then, with Mave's picture in me footlocker. Ta, Andrew. Not many people share your opinion, but you always 'ave been different."

"Hey, I think that's what my mom put for the D in Little Deer!" Carter grinned- his signature goofy grin- and Newkirk smiled back.

"She knew what she was talking about, then. Smart woman."

"Yeah, she sure is something. I think you'd like her. She's real smart, and knows all about everything there ever was. Why, she even said that one time, before I was born, my people went around wearing-,"

Newkirk cut him off by throwing an arm around his shoulders, "I'm sure she's wizard, mate."

Anyone credited with raising Andrew Carter, and surviving it at the same time, was, in Newkirk's book, equivalent to one of the Seven Wonders of the World. But, then again, Carter himself would have to be one of them as well...

The End

Author's Note:

Congratulations to Abracadebra who guessed the modern version AND the correct spelling of the word that I used! Now that's impressive!

1) Cene is a real, Old English word, and it means everything that Newkirk said it does. Our keen is derived from cene, although the meaning has changed over the years. Keen means sharp and highly developed, whereas cene means bold, brave and valiant. Both are pronounced practically the same, and both can very well describe Newkirk.

2) Sioux clothing is really very beautiful. Some of the garments were embroidered with beads. Also, porcupine quills or turtle shells were dyed to decorate some of their clothing. So, whatever Carter's mom was about to say (that's up to you) just remember what I told you. From all the old paintings and pictures that I saw, the Sioux are a very modest and beautiful people.

This story is dedicated to my mom who takes the letters in someone's name and uses them to come up with kind words that really speak of who the person is. She has inspired me to do the same, and you guys should have seen her reaction when she read this dedication…it was priceless.