Velvet Waltz [An Inglourious Basterds fic]

First Step: The Downbeat

Friday morning brought Hans Landa and his fiancée to a small, run-down tailor shop in west Clichy. SAME-DAY ALTERATIONS, announced a sun-bleached sign in the window.

An older man with measuring tape draped around his neck greeted them, asked a few questions, then ushered the couple to a closet in the back of the shop. The back wall of the closet was, in fact, a sliding door.

It opened to reveal all of the remaining Basterds, plus Alain and Bunny, crowded around a table. All conversation ceased as they entered.

Sylvia couldn't resist squeezing her old comrades' hands before taking a seat next to Landa.

"Gentlemen and ladies," Hans began, with a nod to Bunny. "I am so pleased to be working with each of you on Operation Merry Widow."

"We've been callin' it Operation Waltz," Aldo interrupted.

Hans blinked. "That's rather generic, don't you think?"

"It's simple," Aldo said. "Easy to remember."

"The name is unimportant," Donny cut in. "Let's talk about the plan."

"Yes, Operation Merry Widow Waltz," Hans said with a serrated edge.

Sylvia and Alain's eyes met across the table. Aldo and Hans were strange bedfellows, indeed.

Hans produced an enormous portfolio, full of diagrams, photos, even a blueprint of the 6th floor renovation. The Basterds gawked at the sheer volume of material, unused to Landa-grade thoroughness.

As Hans described the points of entry around the mansion, Aldo assigned roles: Donny would drive the van. Wicki would guard the gravel path. Aldo, Donny, and Hirschberg would lead the charge inside, once Sylvia had cleared the stairwell for entry. All hands would help move prisoners downstairs and over the back fence. Bunny, with her nursing training, would triage who needed medical attention and direct them to the SOE vehicle on the other end of the street. Someone would have to follow Hans and Sylvia in through the front, and eliminate every witness: Stiglitz, obviously.

"Alright, Hirschberg, say what'cher gonna say, just stop clearing yer damn throat," Aldo finally said.

Hirschberg sat up nervously. "Look, I might be in the minority here, but...I'm sorry, this smells awful fishy to me."

"What is 'fishy' about it?" Hans asked.

"He's a goddamn Nazi!" Hirschberg was working up a sweat. "Leading us into the fuckin' hornet's nest. How do we know we ain't gonna get ambushed as soon as we get in there?"

"Don't you worry, Hirschberg, I put the fear of the Lord into our Nah-zi friend. He knows just what's comin' to 'im if he don't play by our rules." Aldo smiled at Hans. "Ain't that right, Landa?"

The beating was fresh in Hans' mind, and the bruises still obvious. "Yes, I am quite aware."

"If you can't trust him, trust me," Sylvia stepped in. "I was held in that prison, too. This is as much my plan as his."

"Okay, maybe you can tell me how we're supposed to get through six locked doors?"

"Hans has keys for every door in the corridor."

Hirschberg pointed to the blueprint. "So he doesn't have keys for the stairwell??"

"I'm afraid I do not," Hans replied.

"Are you fucking serious??"

Aldo rubbed his chin. "You did promise us, if I recall, 'unfettered access' to the prison. A locked stairwell kinda looks like a 'fetter' to me."