Chapter 3
“Answer me.”
Debert’s voice sounded harsh, as if chewing on his words, his teeth clenched tightly.
The lingering wind that had not yet gone away lightly blew the woman’s long hair. Debert’s gaze followed the hair as it tickled his face.
The hair, which had been floating in the air, settled quietly on the chest of the woman’s uniform. Debert’s eyes fixed on the name dyed in dark red.
“Graham Carter. Obviously, that’s not your name.”
Despite the relaxed tone, his rough hands rummaging through the woman’s uniform pocket indicated that his patience had run out.
Medicines she had cherished rolled miserably at her feet, but Beth couldn’t take her eyes off the man.
It was fear.
The fear that she might die like this.
Her hands, which had been clinging to the man as if begging for mercy, dropped away.
Her legs, which had been struggling, went limp like a lifeless animal, and even her gasping breaths stopped.
Thud.
Debert, who had been dropping her precious belongings, finally let go of the woman.
Shortly after, the sound of her hurried breathing vividly reached his ears again. There wasn’t much to hear in the quiet forest.
Watching her heaving chest for a moment, Debert dryly asked,
“Is he your lover?”
Lover? Beth shook her head in shock.
“Then, are you a Kovachian?”
The answer was the same.
Paper and pen. Paper and pen. Beth repeated those words like a chant as she fumbled through the grass.
“Captain Debert, if you push too hard—”
Arthur, who had approached, stopped in his tracks.
Debert had taken too long to return, so Arthur had set out early, just in case. He had been watching from a distance, understanding the situation when he saw the Kovachian soldier’s body sprawled on the path. He had come thinking that Debert might kill the only one who knew what was going on. And it happened to be a woman.
Because the figure was so small, Arthur had assumed she was just a weakling. Scratching his eyebrow, he pondered the complicated situation.
Women sometimes approached Debert. Their intentions were obvious: to seduce him and extract military secrets. It was something Debert despised the most.
But that was a few years ago. If the enemies had known how Debert dealt with those women, they would have avoided such actions if they had any sense.
Of course, the current situation was somewhat different, but Debert would probably be wary of the woman simply because she had approached him in an ambiguous manner.
Arthur’s gaze turned to the woman who was frantically searching the ground. She was wildly pushing through the grass, seemingly looking for something.
Judging by her dishevelled appearance and the bottles of medicine scattered around, she seems more like a civilian who often raids drug warehouses and sells them on the black market.
Ah. Arthur’s lips parted.
The mute nurse.
Suddenly, he remembered the gossip he hadn’t yet shared with Debert.
“Debert, isn’t she a nurse? I heard she can administer injections.”
It was the most optimistic assumption he could make in this situation.
“Why should I believe that?”
Debert chuckled.
“Just because she has a single syringe?”
His cold sneer left only a colder expression.
“Those Wayne back-alley junkies are better at that.”
Debert turned his stiff neck back and forth. The woman, sitting at his feet, caught his gaze. Shaking this tiny woman wasn’t exactly pleasant.
So, he decided.
“Strip.”
To end this tedious interrogation quickly.
The woman’s hands, which had been moving constantly, stopped. If this was an act, a small hypothesis bloomed in Debert’s mind.
“Prove there’s no bomb hidden in that loose-fitting uniform.”
An eerie silence filled the space between the three.
Her black eyes, trembling with fear, slowly rose from Debert’s feet to his knees, waist, chest, and finally his face.
The man she looked up at seemed as tall, as fearful, and as unknowable as the night sky.
When Beth, kneeling, extended her hand and took a step forward, Debert stepped back exactly one step.
Biting her lip tightly, she scribbled something on her opposite hand with trembling fingers, but Debert did not look.
As she tried to take another step forward, the sound of a gun reloading stopped her in her tracks. Frozen, Beth stared at the gun pointed at her again.
“You are both a witness and a suspect. We can’t risk everyone dying just to take you. Your identity is a later issue.”
Beth gripped her stiff military uniform, her hands turning white.
The bitter taste of iron from her bitten lip reminded her that she was still alive.
No matter what she did, this man wouldn’t believe her.
In her dizzy mind, the only clear fact pointed to the sole path to survival. Her hand holding the uniform edge slowly moved to the top button.
To live. To survive.
Beth focused on her future life, trying to forget the immediate humiliation. The days she always dreamed of.
Her sweaty hands fumbled with the smooth button, but the man didn’t rush her.
When the second button opened, revealing the red-stained white neck, Debert gave an order.
“Commander Arthur, turn around.”
As she reached for the third button, Beth looked up at the emotionless grey eyes. His gaze held no impurity towards her body. He only looked at her as if she were prey, ready to kill if she made a wrong move.
Perhaps that was a relief.
As the white slip beneath her uniform started to show, Beth’s hand slipped off the button again. Where did it all go wrong? She had only run away to live.
Beth closed her eyes tightly and reached for the button again, but Arthur’s irritated voice stopped her.
“Debert Cliff! I’ll take her in my car. I’ll guarantee her identity.”
“For what reason?”
“I think she might be the nurse coming to Mrs. Molly’s hospital. The one who can’t speak.”
Did that woman come up in one of those meaningless conversations over a few whiskies? Debert nodded. Perhaps.
Debert’s gaze scanned Beth thoroughly before fixing on the bare feet sticking out from her oversized uniform.
The red scratches on her pale feet were oddly fitting, strangely matching the woman in front of him.
“Commander Arthur, go to my car. Take her with the soldiers.”
Debert gave the most generous order he could while still not trusting her.
His final order.
—
Inside Debert’s tent. Beth’s long eyelashes cast shadows under the flickering yellow lightbulb.
Thanks to the commander’s words, she had avoided the humiliation of being stripped, but being alone with the captain in the tent now was unpredictable.
Only Debert seemed unconcerned.
“Relax.”
Beth tried to ignore the oppressive presence of his shadow. His shadow was enough to engulf the small side table she sat by.
“Write down everything you saw.”
The only sound between them was the sharp scratching of the pen on paper. Beth paused when she heard the scrape of a lighter, but she didn’t look up.
As the acrid scent of the cigar reached her, she lowered her head further.
The scent had no weight, but somehow the man’s cigar smoke pressed down on the air.
“Include the details of why you left.”
Beth, pressing hard on the paper, glanced up at the man.
He had fixed his gaze on her report at some point. The thin smoke from his cigar crept across the table, inching towards her hand.
Beth subtly pulled her hand back without him noticing.
“Death certificate?”
Beth’s hand went to her uniform buttons.
The uniform, fastened to her neck, began to open one button at a time, as it had on the forest path.
When her pale fingers reached the third button she hadn’t opened before, Debert exhaled a long puff of smoke.
This time, Beth couldn’t avoid the smoke touching her skin.
Beth reluctantly pulled out the certificate from her inner pocket. Perhaps things had escalated because of that certificate. She had been so focused on collecting the certificate that she had dropped the pen she had been guarding like her life into the pile of paperwork.
“Mrs. Molly is coming to confirm your identity.”
Debert skimmed the death certificate, familiar to him. Nothing special. A common name with a common surname. Just another piece of paper at Nexus Military Hospital.
He slipped the certificate between his files. This insignificant piece of paper seemed to embody her essence. The woman’s distressed look as she watched the paper being set aside amused him.
Two o’clock in the morning.
Only four hours until the operation. It was time to conclude.
Was this woman an unfortunate coincidence? Or a variable?
“Why did you help the Kovachian? Especially one involved in an air raid. You know our troops lack supplies.”
Beth’s hand, which had been writing her defence, hesitated. The ink spread across the thin paper.
Debert didn’t miss her wavering eyes.
So resolute until now. She was hesitating. Her hand, writing and erasing repeatedly, finally completed a short sentence.
‘Because he was young and sick.’
“Because he was young and sick.”
Debert repeated her answer aloud.
Young and sick. He rolled the words around in his mouth.
Outside, the sound of an animal cry grew closer, followed by a guard calling for Debert.
“Let them in.”
With his command, a bloodied figure bound and gagged was thrown into the tent. Beth flinched, trying to retreat, but Debert, who had approached behind her, gripped her shoulder firmly.
Beth shuddered more at his touch, but his hand was quicker.
Debert gently but firmly grasped her chin, positioning her to see the spy clearly.
It was a surprisingly gentle touch, unlike the rough force he had shown in the forest.
“Inexperienced youngsters are usually given machine guns in Kovach’s army. They shoot wildly, but it’s quite effective.”
Beth twisted her head, but his grip was relentless.
“If you are truly a military nurse, you’ve seen it countless times. Nexus soldiers with amputated limbs, dying, and hanging in pain. Those ‘young and sick’ ones you wanted to save made those scenes.”
Debert looked down at her sideways.
“Are you trying to be a saviour?”
Devert willingly let go of the woman’s chin so she could look at him. Her eyes looked up at him with a rather angry expression, but her lips did not open even an inch.
Ah, she said she couldn’t speak.
Debert recalled that fact, which he had momentarily forgotten.
“I’d like to receive that arrogant salvation of yours as well.”
Thanks to the warmth inside the tent, the woman’s lips were red even in the dim light.
“Shall I show you how I really treat spies?”
A few soldiers entered the tent at Debert’s command.
“Burn.”
The order was given in a composed voice. And then,
“Watch with me, Miss Beth Jane.”
The terrible suggestion continued. In a voice that was terribly sweet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TRANSLATOR:
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Happy reading : )
