Ari looked good in uniform. He was an inch or two shorter than the guard, but that was minor. He skirted the castle door as widely as possible, took up his position near the front gates, and talked to the other guards over his shoulder, to keep his face as well hidden as possible.
We had taught him two Czech expressions, and he delivered the first one now. “She’s waiting for you.”
And the inevitable question, “How was she?”
And Ari’s second Czech phrase, one not to be found in the Berlitz guide book. “Best piece of ass I ever had!”
The guard at the left of the door came next. He first looked around comically, as if to make sure that Big Brother was not watching. Then he set his rifle on the doorstep and slipped around the side of the building to where Greta was waiting. She met him almost halfway and rubbed her flesh against him. It was a chore getting him to undress. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and when he did attempt to strip he was desperately clumsy about it. His tunic buttons gave him worlds of trouble. But Greta helped him, and finally he got his clothes off, and he touched her and she touched him and they kissed and Zvi swung.
The blow was a little off, landing on the top of the head. A few inches further back would have done the job better. As it was, the guard staggered but didn’t go down. He started to cry out, and Greta wrapped her arms possessively about him and stopped his mouth with a kiss, and Zvi’s second shot was in the right place, and out he went.
We waited a few moments, both for the sake of naturalism and to render the third guard so nervous and lustful that he would not notice how little Haim, who was donning the fallen guard’s uniform, resembled his own comrade. Haim didn’t return to his post. Instead he trotted straight to Ari, at the front gate, and called back to the remaining guard.
He, too, had learned a phrase or two of Czech. “Your turn. She could take on an army!” And then a description of some of Greta’s natural assets, quite accurate, actually.
By now we had the routine perfected. It took Greta only a few seconds to convince the third guard of the advantages of coeducational nudism. It took just one shot with the lead pipe to render him senseless. And now Gershon was dressing and taking up his post, and we had the game half won. Our armed Israelis held the three outside posts. I looked at them and thought what fine sentries they made. The Czechs had talked among themselves; Gershon and Haim and Ari stood straight and tall and silent. The Czechs had been bored by monotonous and pointless routine; Gershon and Haim and Ari were wholly fresh and alert.
The next part was tricky. Zvi and I moved up closer to the front of the castle. Greta put her clothes on again, and this time Zvi helped her with the various hooks and clasps. His hands wandered a bit far afield, and Greta’s response told me that all of this was getting to her in a big way. I was worried that she might not be able to hold herself back one of these times.
We waited while she walked to the castle door. Gershon and Haim drew it open for her and she slipped inside. The two guards within challenged her immediately. She told them just what she had done so far, and what she had in mind, and invited them to decide who would be the first to participate. The guards seemed unwilling to believe it, until the trio out front chimed in reinforcement.
“Best piece of ass I ever had!” Ari called.
“She could take on an army,” added Haim.
And Gershon said his sole Czech phrase. He would have blushed if he had understood it.
A few seconds later Greta rounded the corner with another guard in tow. This time she was not acting in the least. She hurried him out of his clothes, smothered him with kisses, and dragged him down on top of her. Zvi moved toward them with the pipe, but I motioned him back to give them another few seconds. Then I nodded, and he clipped the guard perfectly, and the score stood at four down and one to go.
Zvi helped me tie him, then dressed in the uniform and returned to the castle. “You are terrible,” Greta assured me. “You could have waited another minute.”
“This is war,” I said.
“I am going out of my mind.”
“Take a cold shower.”
“You are mad.”
“Keep saying to yourself, He’s a Czech, he’s a Czech. ”
“What good will that do?”
“None at all.”
I hefted Zvi’s length of lead pipe. Zvi could speak a little Czech, and though his accent was heavy he could understand what was said to him. That was one of the reasons I had picked him for inside work. It was one thing to fool the guards on the outside, where the light was bad. It was something else to con the one inside and make him think this dark curly-haired Israeli was the same blond guard who had been with him for the past few hours.
So he played it safe. He opened the door, and the last of the guards said immediately, “Where the hell is Kliment?”
“Taking a leak,” said Zvi. “The girl is waiting for you.”
“It’s no joke, then? She’s really taking everybody on?”
“If it’s a joke, it’s a good one. You in the mood, or should I send her home?”
“Just think – right now my wife’s sitting home waiting for me. When did they put you on this shift, anyway? Do I know you?”
Zvi eased out the door. “If you want to wait for your wife…”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
When Greta had him stripped, I used the pipe on him. I hit him a little harder than I had intended to, and at first I was afraid he was dead. I certainly didn’t want to kill one of them accidentally, not after the argument I’d had with Zvi earlier in the day. He was dead set against going through the tying and gagging ritual and insisted we should cut their throats at the beginning and be done with it. “Dead men speak softly,” he said, and I countered with the argument that these men, live or dead, would not be inclined to speak at all. “Alive, they’ll be a help to us,” I argued. “They won’t want to admit how they were had, so they’ll make up some elaborate lie. If anything, they’ll wind up covering for us.”
I checked the man’s heart. It was still ticking, albeit weakly. I tied him and gagged him and got into his uniform. It was an almost perfect fit. I asked Greta how I looked, and she said I was magnificent.