Tilted Axis

Chapter:31

   I continue my pacing in quiet contemplation. I hold the handle up to the light inspecting it. The white Z stands boldly against the wood. "It has to be Zoldycks. Unless having a last name that starts with Z is common here." I ponder silently.

   Why would he give me a razor? Does he want me to attempt to escape? Is this some kind of test? It hurts my head to try and think about it. Then I remember something Leorio told me once.

    "Gon, you can't plan everything. You can't know everything. When you try to plan ahead or look too far ahead, you won't be prepared when it goes all to cock." He said. "To plan for something in advance might as well be piss n wind. I bet you planned getting into the army and doing well. But I'd also bet you didn't expect to get shot during your training. That one flaw could have thrown all your plans out like that."

    Over time I came to see just how right he is. I figured I could get into the armed forces and work my way up the ranks. With the hopes of meeting my father. Nothing could have prepared me for the situation I now find myself in. Being ordered to aid the RAF, crash land behind enemy lines and be held captive by a SS Platoon. Now I stand on the edge of a cliff that seems to offer no escape.

   I place the razor back behind my belt as I pace so it's not out in the event someone walks in. I imagine if anyone other than Killua sees me with it, I become Swiss cheese. Best idea for me to play my cards right until Zoldyck shows his hand.

   As if right on cue the door clicks and the white haired male steps into the room. For the first time since I've noticed, he actually locks it behind him. He snaps his fingers and points at the chair. "Sit." Is all he says.

    I shrug and do as he orders. I stride back and occupy the metal chair. He then takes his place opposite of myself in his own chair. "So? Anything you want to fill me in on?" I ask quietly.

    "Depends. Did you actually understand my message?"

    "Lucky for you, yes. Only a handful of people in my unit back home understand taps and swipes. My CO gave me lessons personally. Under my request, mind you." I tap my hip where the razor rests.

    "Ok. Now I'm giving you a choice. There will be no negotiating." He starts lowering his voice. "If you want to get back to England, you have to do as I say. To the letter. If you can't, it's best I just execute you."

   I raise a brow at him. I stay quiet to let him finish.

    "I want out of this. This conflict. But with my family at risk you can see it proves to be rather difficult. Outright desertion would get them killed. But if my captive captured me, I won't be at any fault." He says. His tone is level, but it doesn't match his body language. His eyes are unfocused and he is clenching one hand in the other tightly.

   I stare at him feeling dumbfounded. "You are...making a desertion attempt?" He can't be serious. Then again, he did just give me a razor. "Hold on just a minute. You want me to capture you? If I do that, for all I know, they will still shoot me. Even if I use you as a shield. What would stop them from doing that?"

    "Because in this platoon, I'm the CO. I'm the highest rank currently here. If I order them not to fire, they have to listen under threat of severe punishment."

    "Would think your forces have back up plans for situations like that. Their ranks still seem to be the sort who will fire first and ask questions never."

   "You will just have to trust me on that."

   A low growl rises up in my throat. "Trust trust trust. All relies on the trust of a stranger. That can be the same as taking a knife and stabbing yourself. Give me a single reason why I should. And don't try to say your shaving razor."

   Killua stares at me for a long moment before digging in his front pocket and pulling out a small log book. He leans over and slaps it against my leg, leaving it there. "That is why."

   I take hold of the small book. Nothing particularly stands out about it. It looks like a standard issue log book. An English standard issue! My hand quickly flies to my chest patting my pocket hastily.

    When I don't feel anything my lungs freeze in my chest. I dig my fingers in, looking for something. I find no log book but my fingers brush against the small picture of my father. I let out an audible sigh of relief. I take hold of it and pull it out gently.

   "Yes. We didn't take that little photo. I saw no reason to take items from home." Killua says, pulling my attention back to him.

   "Well you have my gratitude for that. But what does my log book have to do with it? It had no valuable information."

    "I'm aware of this. After reading through of course. Except a little fact nobody knows about you. Not even your friend back home. Do you know what that little fact might be?" He asks condescendingly.

     I can feel heat rise up to my cheeks. I know exactly what he is referring to. I try to clear my throat. "I may. What does it have to do with anything?" I ask. My voice nearly catches in my throat as I speak.

    "Because it proves you can trust me. Under normal circumstances, I would need to immediately give this to a higher ranking officer or handle it myself. Seeing as you are still alive, I've told nobody. The Nazi party doesn't take kindly to." He clears his throat. " Those who would prefer a man over a woman." He states with a slight touch of hesitation.

    "I'd imagine not." I reply slowly. I place the log book and picture back into my chest pocket carefully. I can't fight the heat that has risen to my cheeks. Why did the first person to find out I'm a homosexual have to be him? Sure he's attractive, but he's also been my captor. Now I regret not telling Leorio sooner.

    "Ok. I'm willing to listen, Zoldyck." I say finally after several moments of silence. "If you are telling me there is some chance of getting home, I see no other option but to take it. So spill."

    He leans forward on his knees. "Well like I said, we will be switching roles. You will be the captor and I the captive." The tension he held seemed to be lifting slightly. He no longer looks as though he will break his hand in his grip.

   "Mate, you say that like it's the simplest plan in the world. Did you think through any of it? They will question it. Like how I got my hands on your razor. How I got free of my bonds, and overpowered a mercenary." I display my hands in front of me open.

    A razor isn't the best weapon in my case. The rest of these men are walking with KAR 98s and MP40s. They often say don't bring a knife to a gunfight. But in this situation this is like holding a single grenade and standing ten meters away from a tank. I'd be dead before it even leaves my hand.

   "The razor isn't important. Not to the plan at least. It's all too obvious that it is mine. I planted it for you to find. A show of good faith that you can trust me. Instead this plan will focus on you using your binds against me. You overpower me, get my weapons, and take me hostage." He explains.

   I snap the rope at my wrists, spreading my arms quickly. "That could be believable. I've got a good maybe thirty centimeters to work with. Believable in the sense I got it around your throat." I say looking at the rope.

    I turn my attention back to him. "However, there is still a glaring weakness in this plan."

    "That being?"

   I point to the door. "Those blokes. Even if you lock the door, the guards will break their way in if they hear sounds of a scuffle. What then?"

  He shrugs. "Depends. How fast are you with a gun?" His tone has become like ice.

(WC:1459