Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3:

Dusk was approaching, and now 30 clicks behind enemy lines, Bulldog could see the heat of his breath in the last few minutes of daylight in a cold, quiet forest.  This was dangerous place for anyone, but especially for him.  After all, he was on the Third Reich’s most wanted list; a fact he considered as a badge of honor.  A few hundred yards away, was a Nazi chateau – an impregnable fortress of intel, artillery and treasure, guarded with more men than Bulldog could count.

With only his 9 MM, a pocket knife and his trusty camera, Bulldog took a deep breath and preceded – step by step, he was closing in on one of the most dangerous targets the world had ever known.  He must remain undetected. One wrong move could spell disaster.  Slithering closer on his belly, Bulldog remembered his simple promise to the President: he would return with this intel, or die trying.  And dying was not on Bulldog’s agenda tonight.  Cautiously, Bulldog slowly inched close enough to see into a window through his telephoto camera lens.  

There was nothing to do now but wait. Luckily, Bulldog trained for years as a scout with Running River (a well-revered, but reclusive Apache Indian Chief who now lived in Detroit) so he knew how to remain both still and alert for hours on end.  In fact, he stood so still now, that he was undetectable from the cold, dark forest surrounding of the château.  Suddenly, through the window, he saw it. Target acquired! 

Barely moving, he slowly raised the camera…click!  In the icy silence of the forest, the camera’s tiny shutter made a distinct and detectable noise! One of the guards patrolling a nearby clearing turned toward the sound, his eyes meeting the fierce stare of Bulldog.  “Es ist Bullgogge!!!   Feuer Offenen!”

Immediately, Bulldog bolted through the woods at lightning speed, leaping over logs and dodging ice patches, sidestepping rocks and ducking under trees as dozens of guards angrily launched bullets at him in hot pursuit. The Germans were falling all over themselves trying to catch up with him, clearly untrained in the Apache art of stealth and speed.  Bulldog made it to an open field to find his getaway helicopter already lifting off the ground.  With half an army baring down on his location, he jumped and grabbed the bottom of the copter with one arm as it lifted him away.  With his other arm he gently waved at the Nazis below, “Auf wiedersehen, suckers!” and flew out of sight.

A few days later Bulldog stood before the President, photograph in hand.   “As promised, Mr. President,” he said, as the President slowly reached for the photo. His eyes unmoving from the picture, the President replied, “So…after all this time, the questions, and the wondering. It is true.”

“Yeah” said Bulldog, “Hitler’s mom wears Army boots”.  They both laughed.  As Bulldog stood to leave, he patted the President on the back and said, “Oh, by the way Sir, you owe me $.35 for the film.”


Inspired by Bulldog White

Written by: Scott White

Edited by: Jordan McMillian

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