geh zum teufel

The punch had hit Charles, quite literally like a fist to the face. He hadn’t seen it coming, as it had been delivered by a man stood beside him, whom he had not been paying much attention to. It almost made Charles swear out loud in English, which was of course the point of the sucker punch, but he managed to change his outward expression to German just in time.

“Du Fickfehler, geh zum teufel!”

The man opposite smiled a thin smile, then spoke in a very accented English to Charles.

“Very good, you have managed to maintain your cover, such a shame zat your pilot friend did not. We know everything zat happened Charles. Zat is your name, is it not, Charles?”

Charles sat still and steady, saying nothing. The punch had cut his lip and the front of his mouth was slowly filling with blood. The silent standoff lasted for a full ten minutes, until the man stood and came face to face with Charles in his chair. As he came within range, Charles spat the full mouthful of blood that he had been building up, into the face of his captor.

“Fick dich und deine Mutter, Schwein!”

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