Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2000 21:27:32 -0500
From: haztech <haztech@email.msn.com>
Subject: Flak Bait 6 The End.

Flak Bait
Part 6 The End.

        Michael Goldman stirred in the filtered light of another morning
and sighed, involuntarily shifting the hair and tickling the neck of the
French boy he spooned against. He ever so gently found his hands stroking
Paul's smooth chest and belly as he snuggled closer, careful to avoid
pressing against the purple, healing bruises outlining the other's shoulder
blades. Mike started quietly, when he felt the other arm trace its way down
the ridges of his spine to finally end with a slight squeeze of his ass,
and cautiously raised his sleepy eyes to peer over his friend at Jean,
lying next to them.
        Jean gazed back reassuringly at the dark eyes of the American boy
staring at him and winked his understanding of their activities. He moved
his arm back over the two from where it had been and, playfully giving
Pual's erect cock a gentle stroke, rolled away to take care of his morning
needs. He had a few more secret meetings to attend and more `offical'
counterfeit papers and travel orders to arrange for the three of
them. Failing that, he knew some of the foremen in charge of various work
details attached to what remained of the national rail system still
operated by his countrymen, under German direction, of course.
        The invaders had no idea that so many of the rail workers they'd so
dutifully supervised were working against them the whole time. They never
seemed to know that the dynamite used against them was their own or that
the simple tools and materials needed to fashion the locally produced Sten
submachine guns came from the shops they had claimed as their own after the
surrender.
        He couldn't help but smile as he dug through the change of clothes
that had been left on a chair near the bed for them. Some of Peter's
clothing would fit Paul just fine, but Michel's small frame would take more
effort. He glanced down again and was relieved to see the smaller clothing
that someone had found so they would all be dressed. He caught the faint
wisp of cedar and guessed someone had rummaged through an old chest the
family owned to find the clothes their son had outgrown.
        Satisfied with his dull, nondescript appearance, he glanced over at
his two naked charges before he left. They were both awake now, even though
their eyes were closed in their mutual embrace as they slowly stroked each
other.
        "Paul." Jean smiled at the quick guilty look he received. "I will
be back tonight. Do what you are told." Jean glanced down at the two hard
members the boys were holding as he reluctantly turned away. "And don't
make a mess." He licked his finger and slipped it between the circled
fingers of his other hand, almost laughing at Paul's widening eyes.
        Jean let his smile broaden into a near grin as he closed the door
behind him. The two boys had conveniently swallowed the evidence of their
explorations last night and he was sure his warning would be handled the
same way this morning as well. He sighed quietly. Now on to the serious
business of keeping them alive.

        Paul smiled as he translated Jean's last statements to his American
friend and he soon found himself maneuvering down to once again stare at
Michael's hard cock which he held while the other flipped himself around on
the bed. He reached out with his tongue to envelop the head as he fingered
the loose testicles hanging across Mike's thigh. He shuddered slightly as
Michael mirrored his actions, sending another wave of pleasure through his
groin. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes as he pulled away and
moistened his finger the way Jean had, before descending to completely
engulf Michael. He felt the muscular cheeks af Mike's ass flex
involuntarily before his finger found its target and he pushed gently
inside.
        Mike bucked once in surprise and came off Paul's own throbbing
member to stare for a moment, his question unasked as this new invasion
registered. Except for the usual barracks humor which had been over his
head and the entrance physical which he'd tried to forget, the idea of
receiving pleasure from that region had never occurred to him before. He
grunted slightly as he involuntarily pushed down, trapping Paul's finger as
it wormed its way deeper into him. He smiled briefly at the new combination
of sensations before he once again surrounded Paul with his tongue and
lips. He let his own hands pull Paul closer and then descend between the
French boy's cheeks to copy what was happening to him. He almost laughed
around the hard member stuffed in his mouth as he felt, rather than saw,
Paul's tight stomach muscles convulse at his own ever deepening probe. He
sucked harder when his balls tightened against his body and his own release
began, the feelings overwhelming his brain as Paul's finger struck
something deep within him. He barely managed to keep his friend impaled
through his own release as he moved his finger within the tight confines he
found it in, while he swallowed the salty fluid he was presented with.
        Mike pulled away reluctantly from Paul and smiled back at his
friend's flushed face. Somehow he felt a feeling of victory course through
his slight body as they basked in the afterglow of another stolen moment of
pleasure. He surprised himself by idly thinking of what it would feel like
with Paul inside of him the same way his finger had been, but the quiet
rumble from his stomach brought them both back to immediate needs with a
shared chuckle.
        Mike almost laughed outright as they quickly sorted through the
clothes provided for them, with a few starts and stops and exchanges as one
would end up with a shirt too small while the other's hung off his slight
frame. Finally dressed and feeling like he looked like someone's schoolboy,
they quietly padded their way to the kitchen and the family that was hiding
them, for a quick bite to eat and to find out where they should hide if the
house were to be searched.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

        It was two nights later when the family was warned of an
approaching search detail and had woken the three fugitives so they could
make their sleepy way to the small hidden room behind the kitchen
pantry. It had been decided that the two boys would hide and that Jean
would pose as a boarder in the house. He'd have been seen coming and going
anyway, and had the experience dealing with both the Germans and their
French fascist lackeys.
        Mike sat huddled with Paul, their clothes piled under their bare
bodies and one of their two submachineguns in his hands. He hoped that the
meager foodstuffs the family had squirreled away in front of the hidden
panel would be enough to throw off any dogs that might be with the
searching enemy soldiers and policemen. Dim memories of his grandfather's
Indian fighting stories flew through his mind as they waited for the bang
on the door that would spell the beginning of their next trial. He reached
out to pull Paul closer to him in the pitch blackness of the small area
they occupied. The contact helped reassure his troubled mind as he began to
feel an ever growing pressure from his bladder. He let a grim unseen smile
cross his features. So much for dying with their boots on. His brain was
flooded with the brief image of his naked self bursting through the wall
with one gun blazing and the other pissing. He'd just have to hold it.
        Paul settled silently next to his American friend, taking comfort
from the warm body touching his along its length. He let his hand rest on
his friend's thigh, feeling at once the cold steel tube and the warm soft
fleshy one that lay underneath. He wished he could do something to help,
but Jean and Michael were the trained soldiers here, not him. He could only
sit and wait for whatever was going to happen to happen. He hoped the
searchers would come and go quickly. They were too close and had worked so
hard to be stopped now.
        The last two days had been busy ones in their hidden world. Their
photos had been taken and, his own unseen smile of pride crossed his face,
Michael had studied very hard at understanding simple written words and
directions they would come across in this final stage of their
escape. Mike's accent would give them away instantly but his carefully
crafted role meant he'd remain silent, with only the need to appear able to
read the language he had been unfamiliar with. Thankfully, the old man they
stayed with was a very patient teacher indeed and Michael, who'd professed
no talent at learning other languages, had been proven wrong in his self-
assessment.
        Provided they survived this latest test, they'd be ready in a day
to begin their next step. The only thing that Paul feared was that Jean
would be separated from them when they boarded the railway that would lead
them through the hills and directly to Bern and safety. The most dangerous
part of the plan he could see, when it was explained to him, would be when
they would have to change to the meter gauge Swiss rail train near Mulhouse
and the border. It was there that any errors in the plan would unravel
quickly.

        Jean quietly finished replacing the last of the cover in front of
the false wall and, with a quick wish to luck, scrambled back up the stairs
of the dark house. He cursed the danger he'd placed the family of his
former lover in as he shut the door and, with a quick scan for out of place
clothing or other giveaways, slipped back between the covers of the bed.
        "Julianna? Wha...?" He jerked back suddenly when he contacted the
naked flesh of Peter's sister lying next to him in the dark room. For once
he found himself at a loss as to what the family had planned or even if
they knew where she was.
        "Shh...Relax, Jean," she whispered while placing a restraining hand
on his bare shoulder. "Mother thought I might provide a tremendous
distraction for the Germans when they search." She batted her eyes in the
dim filtered moonlight. "Just follow our lead. I know I'm not Peter, but
you must fuck me."
        "What?" Jean was still confused and the strange request shocked and
confused him even more.
        "I am your love you have come to visit." She giggled and reached
between his legs to cup and fondle his naked groin to a hoped-for
erection. "Think of my brother or those two pretty boys you brought, but we
must have sex a while so the enemy will catch us." She leaned over and
kissed his face before looking back at him. "As I said, a distraction."
        Jean merely nodded and closed his eyes, thinking of Peter, and his
sister's hands, though different, were also vaguely familiar as well. He
soon lost himself in Peter's memory as his previously unresponsive member
stiffened under the stroking it received.
        Guided by her fingers, he gently rolled on top of her and began to
enter as they barely heard the entrance of the enemy below them. The images
of his dead lover flooded his senses momentarily as he also thought of the
family that was sacrificing so much and taking such risks as well.
        The bang of the opened door and sudden flood of light to the room
pulled him back to the reality of the present situation as he quickly
rolled off and felt himself flush involuntarily at the snickers and
outraged intake of breath from the old women they'd hidden behind.
        "Julianna! What is this?" The old woman bustled past the now amused
soldiers, cutting off the officer's question before he had a chance to
speak. "I told you he could stay and now you do this! Your father has not
approved your engagement yet!" She turned quickly back to Jean, as he
covered himself, the very image of an outraged mother. "And you! We let you
visit our daughter and you sneak your way together!"
        "Mother, please!" Julianna quickly jumped off the bed, dragging the
barely concealing covers with her, revealing Jean's wet, pink semi before
he quickly recovered himself with his hands. "We love each other!" She
scowled back at her mother as she noticed the larger crowd of soldiers and
police that had gathered with the commotion upstairs.
        Jean just smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders as mother
and daughter continued their increasingly heated tirade against each
other. He was surprised to see the officer in charge give him a knowing
smile back and mouth his request for identification which Jean was more
than happy to comply with.
        "Where are you from, Jean?" the officer asked the obviously
chagrinned young man in the bed. He was surprised that he found it amusing
to have to almost shout over the bickering family members in the
room. Their sweep that night had been boring and routine until now. This
would be the subject of many funny stories around his quarters. "And where
are you going?"
        "I first met Julianna near Epinal where I lived and worked." Jean
did his best to ignore the two arguing women, couching his answer in the
relationship the others thought he'd had. "I am going to join a work crew
for the railway at Mulhouse. My uncle has the job for me there." He fished
out his forged travel and work papers and handed them over as well. He held
his breath for a moment when his small roll of money fell out as well. It
wasn't that much but he worried that any amount would be enough to raise
suspicion.
        "You!" The old women shrieked and grabbed the small roll, thrusting
it at her daughter. "Did you give him this?"
        "No, madame, please?" Jean made a half-hearted grab for the money,
letting his role take him over. "I saved that for the last two
years. Julianna only gave me a little."
        "Well, I should keep it all for the trouble you have brought into
my home!"  She pulled back away from her daughter. Their `audience' would
have a better view now. She cringed inside at the thought of what this
would do to her daughter's reputation in this small town but it had been
Julianna's suggestion and she had to admit that the rest of the house had
been unmolested.
        "Enough!" The officer glanced at his watch impatiently. The story
he'd received about the stranger staying here had been investigated to his
saticfaction. Any other problem he'd have just left the family to deal with
after they left, but he'd been a policeman back in Germany and was familiar
with domestic disputes such as this one. "Old woman! Give him his money
back and if you wish, charge him for staying like any boarder in your
house." He turned back to Jean and waggled his finger disprovingly. "And
you, young man. I suggest you find other lodgings in the morning."
        He was smiling grimly to himself as he led his patrol back to the
street, the rest of the search now forgotten. So much of what he'd had to
deal with during the occupation had been new to him. He found tonight
strangely comforting. It was so familiar to him, he'd dealt with similar
problems many times in his past.

        Michael quietly continued to tightly constrict the muscles deep in
his pelvis when he heard the correct knock and the supplies being pulled
away from their small enclosure. He let out the breath he felt he'd been
holding and let his leg start to shake like it had when he was a nine year
old dancing around to get his father's attention on their trips out into
the oil fields. Somehow he'd never been able to just use the nearest bush
until he started working on some of the rigs during the summers when he'd
turned thirteen and entered manhood, according to his father's Rabbi.
        When the wall was finally opened, he quickly passed through and
proceeded to the rare indoor facilities. His embarrasment at the watching
eyes following him as he walked by, tightly holding his penis, was
dismissed by his need and the attitudes he'd first encountered with Paul's
and now this new family. He sighed in relief as his consumption that night
passed from his lower region. If they stayed any longer with these people,
he'd have to watch his intake of the wine and homebrew they drank with
every meal. The intermittent water supply would have required boiling in
any event and that would be difficult, given the also intermittent fuel
supply the family had to work with. Finished, he quietly turned and padded
back to the room he shared, through the newly darkened house.
        "If anything should happen...." Jean whispered while he instructed
and ordered Paul as they lay by each other on the bed, his hand gently
stroking Paul's soft hair, "...do not stop. You both must get away." He
regarded Paul in the dim light before continuing. "You are both deeply in
love with each other?"
        "Yes," Paul quietly mumbled back. He figured the last was more of a
statement than a question, but felt obligated to answer it anyway. "I can
not imagine my life without him now."
        "Good." Jean smiled as he watched Michel's nude form enter the room
and, closing the door behind him, slip next to Paul. "Your parents wanted
me to protect you and take you someplace safe and where you could be
happy." He glanced at the two and sighed quietly before continuing. "You
have found happiness but now we must find safety for the both of you."
        "Thank you, Jean." Paul smiled through the reminder of his parents'
wish for his life and pushed his hand under the sheet to find Mike's tight
abdomen and curly pubic hair. "Would you show us other ways to show our
love like you have before?"
        "No." Jean chuckled slightly at the question and the honor it
bestowed on him. "That will be for the two of you to discover on your
own. I will only say, take your time and open each other with your fingers,
be gentle and, when you are both ready, it will be something for you to
share only with the boy you love."
        He quietly rolled away from Paul with a final probe and squeeze of
the hard member the boy was presenting the world. Oh, to be almost sixteen
again instead of his war-hardened almost twenty. The ache from his chest
was overshadowing the ache from his unreleased testicles as he lay thinking
of his time with Peter in this very bed. Part of his mind was screaming at
him that he was stupid to remain faithful to a dead boy and his memory, as
he listened to the quiet, cautious, yet frantic lovemaking of the two boys
next to him, but faithful he remained. It was what he clung to, to keep his
humanity intact as he risked his life and found himself killing.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

        The three young men made their escape into the cool dawn of another
dark April morning. Jean instinctively glanced around as they proceeded
through the dark silent streets toward the center of the small town where
their contact waited near the old brick train station.
        Jean waved them forward silently as they soon left the street
farther behind them. He began to breathe a little easier; the farther away
they got from Peter's family, the safer that family would
become. Julianna's performance still bothered him. She'd now be considered
a loose woman in the town once the story was circulated and he hated the
thoughts of abuse and rape that flooded his mind.
        He glanced quickly over his shoulder to check on the two behind him
as he slipped next to the recessed wooden door of the ancient looking
house. He was satisfied by the effect projected by the two boys. Michel's
ears had been bandaged and that, in combination with the worn clothes of a
young gentleman schoolboy and Paul leading him, would fit their story very
well. Now all they needed to complete the deception was about to fall into
their hands. He could only hope that it worked, Except for his knife, they
would be unarmed and alone from this point forward. In fact he would find
himself separated from his charges until they boarded the train. He also
hoped that the two boys, once on their own, would be smart enough to pull
this off. The busy station and bored, tired staff he wanted to slip past
would help immensely.
        Jean tensed slightly at the answering knock just before their local
contact opened the door to admit the three of them into the comfortable
confines of the three hundred year old residence. Now they would see how
well the forger had done in changing the stolen Swiss passports of a sixty
year old banker and his unfortunate wife into the ones the two boys would
carry with them.

        Paul swallowed back his nervousness as he watched the man at the
desk in the station quickly rub his eyes before resuming his perusal of the
papers spread out before him. The man quickly stamped the forms and,
gathering them up, handed the pile back to the two youths along with their
change for the passage. He was getting used to the story he heard from the
unhurt one of the two. The shorter one of the two had traveled to visit
relatives with his friend only to fall victim to a random bomb from the
air. He could see no evidence of falsehood about these two boys and,
besides, it wasn't his problem to deal with. Let the guards at the border
investigate deeper if they wished. He was too busy.
        Paul quickly recovered their documents and stuffed Michael's into
his `numbed' boyfriend's jacket pocket. Grabbing Mike by the arm, he led
him out onto the platform, past the small waiting locomotive and into the
waiting crowd of people hoping for space within the small number of wooden,
two axle passenger coaches waiting for them. He was dismayed to see the
German guards examining the papers again of everybody that boarded the
cars, and couldn't help but hang back slightly as the crowd filed in to
find seats.
        He was just reaching to once again retrieve their passes and
tickets when the guard they'd been approaching waved them off and directed
them and a few others back toward some open gondola cars partialy filled
with various freight items they could only guess at. The guards
unceremoniously gestured for those remaining to climb aboard the open cars.
        The last few well dressed couples quickly backed away, content to
wait for another chance on another train later that day or the next
day. Paul guided Mike up and into the proffered car along with a few other,
mostly young, men willing to travel that way, and quickly found a sheltered
spot toward the back, hidden among the tarp covered boxes and other
machinery the car carried.
        He jerked suddenly in surprise at being joined by another but
sighed audibly when he saw Jean take the remaining space they occupied in
the lee of the front railing. He'd been so nervous inside he hadn't even
dared the risk of looking for Jean's form while going through the
unfamiliar procedure of travel by rail. With luck, the next time they'd
have to move would be when they changed to a Swiss operated railway at the
border near Basel.
        Mike stared dumbly ahead as they jerked into motion and started
their way into the bright sunlit green hills around them. The area was
remarkably beautiful, but then so was a coral snake. Very beautiful, with a
deadly hidden poison underneath. Eventually he hoped one day to visit when
things had settled out, but for now the farther away they got, the happier
he'd be.
        He remained silent, now firmly into his act. What could he say now
that he hadn't already shared with Paul, and how could he do it until they
were alone again. He soon found his eyelids grow heavy and, not caring
about the countryside that passed by the car, soon relaxed to the swaying
into a fitful nap.

        Mike awoke to more clatter and banging as the train slowly
approached to come to another stop. He could only hope that this time it
would be where they would disembark to change to the Swiss-owned train that
would take them across the border finally. He was glad to raise and stretch
and follow Paul's direction as the passengers who'd been riding with them
had gotten out of the car. Soon the two boys found themselves once again
separated from Jean and in another small queue that advanced on the border
checkpoint.
        Once again, Paul produced the papers and passports they carried
with them and handed them over to the clerk watching them. The man quietly
went about his business and asked the same questions of them as before and,
stamping the right forms in the right places, waved them through to the
adjacent platform where the meter gauge Swiss train was waiting patiently
for its own load of people and freight.
        The SS officer quietly followed behind the two boys he'd spotted
with his men while he was behind the counter. The taller of the two was
normal in evey way but the short boy sparked something in his memory he
wanted to look at again. He'd seen the passports the two had presented and
found nothing wrong there but the boy's features and body language were
feeding a slightly growing unease. It would be an easy matter to determine,
just have them drop their pants to show their penises and then let them go
or take them into the woods. Either way it would be over soon. He silently
reached out his arm to stop the two.
        The scream from behind him stopped his actions as he spun on the
new possible threat. He was shocked to see the young man standing on a
baggage cart brandishing a bloody knife and beginning to sing the
Marseilles. He and his men raced back toward the young man as the bloody
body of another guard lying at his feet drew all their attention.
        Paul spun at the commotion and spun Mike as well. The two boys
watched dumbly as they briefly made eye contact with Jean, standing up with
his bloody knife. He almost seemed to be smiling at the two as they
continued to back away and stop at the last passenger coach of the Swiss
train. Then Jean seemed to launch himself at the other approaching guards
as he reacted to the impact of the bullets that found their mark from the
screaming and scattering crowd that sought refuge from the confrontation.
        Jean lay on the ground smiling. He'd first seen the German about to
stop the boys and had sprung without thinking. When the bullets had come,
he'd also seen the two board the train that was now on the other side of
the border. His smile broadend into a feeble grin as his sight dimmed and
the pain from his wounds was replaced by Peter's loving embrace, pulling
him away from his world of pain and deeper into his lover's heart. He was
with Peter now and at peace.

        Mike sat quietly in his seat, watching the dark countryside roll
past their open window. They had crossed to safety at some time, he didn't
know for certain when, and he didn't know what lay ahead of them. He
supposed some type of internment until the war was over, but they were
together, would be together, of that he was sure. He felt his own tears
begin to match the ones that Paul was quietly shedding and squeezed him
closer as they rode into the dark night and toward a new day.

                                        The End!!!

My thanks to ED for his assistance with this story and to Steve for his
ideas for finishing it. Thanks, guys!

        I usually ask for comments at the end of my story chapters but why
bother with this one. The story is OVER! If anyone actually read this story
I don't know it and I'm glad I just got it over with. I don't think I'll
bother with stories with a historical setting any more. It's too difficult
to write and nobody reads them anyway. So at the end of this story, let me
just say, don't bother mailing me now! I don't want to hear it and don't
give a fuck!
                                                        Willy B.