The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 2: Cold Wars (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #2) by Michael Panush Page A

you do that for me? Just reach down and shove that agreement right up your ass?”
    The General twitched again, like an electric current was making a corpse spasm. “You will be wiped out,” he said. “I will promise you that my men will not take prisoners and—”
    “It might be a little tough, General, but I figure you got plenty of practice of taking it up the behind. Probably learned that in Nazi school, just like how to salute.” Candle reached for another cigarette. “You and Adolf and Himmler and Goebbels must play ‘hide the Weiner schnitzel’ all the time back in Berlin.”
    Von Koch fell silent until Candle stopped talking. “Are you finished?” the General asked.
    “I think so.”
    “So you will not hand over the Stein boy. You will force us to take him.”
    “Correct. You want a prize for guessing that, General?”
    “You don’t understand the forces that are set against you, Sergeant. You don’t understand how great your suffering will be, if we take you alive.”
    “Ain’t gonna happen.” Candle pointed to the soldiers behind Von Koch. “Bring on all your Kraut nancies. I’ll kill them all without getting short of breath.” He reached for another cigarette. “You boys did pretty good, General, I’ll give them that. Got all of Europe nice and comfy under your boot. But you made a mistake – you screwed with Uncle Sam.” He put the cigarette in his mouth and reached for his lighter. “I’d offer you one, General – but I don’t smoke with murdering Nazi bastards.” He turned away. “I’m gonna dangle now. I suggest you do the same.”
    It was tough to make Von Koch angry, but Candle achieved it. He saw lines suddenly cross Von Koch’s face, and his tone grow in rage. “How dare you insult me, you American swine! I will—”
    “Elkins!” Candle called out. “Elkins, go ahead and rustle the leaves at the general’s feet!”
    The sniper fired. The leaves between Von Koch’s feet stirred and he leapt back, gray snow and dirt rising up in a small burst.
    Candle grinned at him. “Thank you, Elkins,” he said. “See you around, General.” He turned and headed calmly into the woods. None of the SS soldiers made the mistake of trying to follow him. Morton kept walking under the boughs of the trees, barely noticing Elkins dropping down from a low-hanging branch to stand next to him. Elkins had his Springfield sniper rifle strapped to his back, and his olive green helmet under his arm.
    “I’ll tell the boys what happened at the church,” Candle said. “You can hear too.”
    “I reckon I can figure what you said,” Elkins replied, his voice an Okie twang. He was a tall, lean man, quite different from his stocky, solid sergeant. Elkins could hit a bird on the wing, and his quiet optimism always got on Mort’s nerves.
    They moved slowly through the forest. It was around evening, with the sun shining in the distance. The Black Forest was very quiet, with dim sunlight reaching to the black dirt in soft shafts. It had been a beautiful place, but the 101 st Airborne, General George S. Patton and the OSS didn’t send Candle and his squad there to see the sights.
    They had selected an old church as their headquarters. Empty fields stood around it, vanishing eventually into the tree line. A shell had blasted open the tiled ceiling of the old stone church, and fallen leaves filled the aisle and pews. Stacks of ammunition and weapons, a couple rolls of barbed wire and a few piles of bricks for cover did nothing to sanctify the church. A few more flakes of snow dropped down, adding a border of frosting to the edges of the church’s roof and whitening the ground.
    Tiny, the squad’s gunner, stood up and covered Elkins and Candle with his mounted .30 cal machine gun. He had placed it under the archway of the church, using piles of bricks and dirt for cover. “Sarge, it’s good to see you!” he called, his airy Southern voice soft and excited. “You have yourself a nice talk with