As the train stopped and locked-to, Florian blinked his eyes open, and glanced to Ralf. "Where'd we stop at?" he asked his best friend.
"We're in Paris now, Florian" Ralf replied as Johannes and the rest of the gang woke up.
After the gang stepped off the train, they opted to split up into four pairs so they could explore the city better, as their Trans-Europa station was in the center of the first district. Florian and Elizabeth explored the East End, Karl and Anneke opted for the West End. Wolfgang and Rebekah chose the North End, while Ralf and Johannes decided for a bit of the South End, leaning more into District 4, the heart of the Marais Structure of the city.
map of paris, france
Florian and Elizabeth took a cab to check out the area of the Bastille and the Père-Lachaise cemetery on the East End of town. Karl and Anneke bought cameras to take pictures of the the Musée d'Orsay and the Eiffel Tower at the West End. Ralf opted rather to take Johannes on a small ferry ride across the River Seine to go to the Cathedrale Notre Dame.
Wolfgang and Rebekah, meanwhile, explored the North End, particularly the Ninth District, where the Paris Opera stood. All seemed well between the two until two undercover soldiers of the Darkstrom took notice, looking to the couple.
"So, where would be a good place to try to take the picture?" asked the mensch-maschine as Rebekah looked around. But her eyes caught the two soldiers', and she looked to her friend with fear.
"Uhm... I don't think we're gonna have a chance if we don't get out of here" she replied, taking hold of his hand. "We need to go. Now."
"What... was ist es? Was wird geschehen?" he asked, his face now one of alarm. He then looked around, his scanners and sensors working into overdrive, until he spotted and identified the two soldies. "Ugh... verflucht es zur Hölle..." he cursed, tightning his hold on her hand. "We gotta get the hell out of here." With that the two started to run, with the soldiers following in pursuit.
After running a few blocks one of the soldiers fired at the two, missing them by mere inches. Rebekah glared back at them, but Wolfgang stopped and aimed his laser gun at the soldiers. His face was now one of determination, not of fear.
He fired his gun at the soldiers, hitting one but missing the other. The one still standing fired back at the mensch-maschine, hitting him in the chest. Rebekah caught him falling back, and aimed the laser gun at the soldier, firing at him and hitting him with one shot.
"Damnit" she muttered, "they got you good, sie bastard." With that she carried him to the nearest hotel, which it turned out was made especially for Clandestinians. The receptionist got them to the nicest room available, and helped Rebekah carry Wolfgang to the room.
"If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask" the lady said kindly. "And best of luck on your journey home."
"Danke freundlich" the young woman replied with a smile, then hunted down for the first-aid kit in her mailbag-purse. Finally done fumbling through, she took out the small box with a red cross on it, and opened it. Quickly she found the bandages, antiseptic, needle and thread, and looked to Wolfgang.
"This" she said as she strung the thread through the needle, "might hurt a little bit."
"It's nothing I'm not worried over, Rebekah" he replied with a weary smile.
With that she took a deep breath and put down the needle and thread for a moment, and poured some antiseptic over him. She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer, and took up the needle and thread again. Opening her eyes, she glanced at his hand, which, miraculously, had the bullet.
"How the hell..." she asked, but shook her head at last. Putting the kit on the table to the side, and placing the bullet in the first-aid pocket, she carefully removed his bloodstained coat, tie and shirt. Placing them at the foot of the bed, she picked up the needle and thread, took one more deep breath, and began to sew up the tear on his skin.
She was very careful in sewing up his wound. Her expertise in being a seamstress for patchwork and sewing up small emblems came as an experience in the concentration camp. She looked at his face, watching for any sign of pain or weakness, careful not to inflict pain unintentionally. A sense of deep worry overcame her and, while she kept a steady hand over the needle and thread, her eyes now fixed over the needle and thread, filling with tears.
"Ah--ah, autsch..." he finally cried out softly, a slight twinge of pain getting to him at last, and she blinked as tears finally spilt.
"Ah! mein Gott!!" she cried out, putting aside the needle and thread. "Ich bin, Wolfgang! sehr traurig!" She reached for the box to hunt down the numbing ice, which she totally forgot about, but he grabbed her hand. She looked at him, blinking.
"...no, it's okay, Rebekah" he said.
"Yes but, you're injured on account of me!!" she answered. "The least I can do is try to fix your wounds!!"
"They will heal on their own. Not so quickly, but they will heal" he replied. "You can remove the needle and the rest of the string now."
She stood there for a moment, hesitant of what else to do. Finally she sighed and, taking out the scissors, cut the remaining string from him and placed that and the needle back in the box. She then turned to face him, unsure of how else she could help him.
"Then..." she finally said, "I do not know how else to help you, Wolfgang. I am of no use to you now."
"Nicht wirklich, Rebekah" he answered, pulling her closer to him so he could look her in the eyes. "Überhaupt nicht."
Rebekah stared into his brown eyes, her own pale green eyes still drowning in tears. What was it she saw in his eyes, that in her own being she denied herself? Had she fallen for him while she tried to fix him? Did he fall for her because she was brave enough to step out of her comfort zone and actually try to fix whatever wounds he had? Or did his admiration over her begin when they met outside of the Trans-Europa? In any case, whatever was there between them, there was something that couldn't be denied at any instant.
Wolfgang tried to sit up, for despite the pain, he wanted more than anything to kiss her.
"You're not sitting up, damnit!!" she exclaimed. "Nicht mit den Wunden haben Sie!!" But he only pulled her closer to him, wrapping her in his arms. While she had the hearted ambition for him, at this point, she was not amused!! But at last, she finally gave up and sighed, just looking at him.
"One thing you must understand about a mensch-maschine is," he said, "wenn sie beabsichtigen, etwas zu tun, tun sie es." Finally he gained enough nerve to kiss her, cautiously, on the mouth, as she blinked for a moment and, in the kiss, drowned. Perhaps she knew no better?
The next morning the receptionist checked up on them, and she smiled a bit when she saw that they had slept through the evening peacefully. She closed the door while the two rested up some more, wrapped in each other's arms. Wolfgang's wound had healed, Rebekah was still in her Lisbon prisoner's dress. For time being, all would be well until they, with the others, would attempt to escape Paris.
Especially since, now that the Darkstrom had found them...
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