Ragnarok

Chapter Thirty-Five

Germanica, Germany East

15 November 1985

“I need to ask you a question,” Katherine said, as she half-pushed Gudrun into the washroom and turned on the water. “What happened after the winter fire?”

Gudrun froze. There was no way anyone outside her family knew about the winter fire. How could Katherine have learned of it? How…?

“I need to know,” Katherine hissed. “What happened?”

“I have a cousin — Fritz,” Gudrun said. She felt a sudden surge of hope. Katherine wouldn’t have known to ask unless she was in contact with someone from her family. Kurt? Or her father? Or… “He told me that I wouldn’t be anything other than a housewife. I punched him.”

“Good for you,” Katherine said.

Gudrun had to smile, despite her conflicting feelings. “He fell over backwards, his nose bleeding,” she added. “Father was very unhappy and Kurt took the blame.”

“Oh dear,” Katherine said. “Was that all?”

Gudrun shrugged. She didn’t know — she’d never known — if her father had seen through the lie or not. He’d never been easy to lie to, but he’d given Kurt a thrashing instead of asking questions that would have unravelled the whole deception. Fritz had certainly never told the truth, although if the truth had come out everyone would have laughed at him. He’d had his nose bloodied by a girl!

She didn’t feel too sorry for him. Fritz had been a little creep when he’d been a child and he hadn’t improved as he’d grown into a teenager. Gudrun had caught him ogling her more than once, even though they were cousins. He’d bragged of his grand plans to join the SS, but she had no idea if he actually had. She hadn’t seen him since the day she’d bloodied his nose.

He was probably snapped up at once, she thought, nastily. He had the right mindset to spy on everyone.

“We didn’t see him afterwards,” she said. “He never came round again.”

She smirked. Fritz wouldn’t have suffered if Kurt had punched him — at least, he wouldn’t have been a laughing stock — but he wouldn’t have wanted to risk being smacked by Gudrun again. If Kurt hadn’t lied… Gudrun had never quite understood why Kurt had lied. It wasn’t as if Gudrun had been in any real danger. Her father might have laughed at Fritz himself rather than punishing Gudrun.

“I see,” Katherine said. “Thank you.”

Gudrun looked at her. “Why…?”

“Not a word,” Katherine said. “And don’t speak of it outside this room.”

She pushed Gudrun under the water before Gudrun could say a word. Water ran down her body, washing away the dirt and grime from the cell. She rubbed at her hair, wishing for some shampoo, as she began to think. The only way Katherine could have found out about the whole affair was from Gudrun’s family… no, it had to be Kurt. No one else knew the full story.

And that meant… hope warred with fear in her breast. Katherine had taken care of her over the last few days — and she’d saved Gudrun from Doctor Müller — but it might all be a trick, a plot to get her to let down her guard. And yet, Holliston had been very clear that Gudrun was going to be sent east. There was no need to try to break down her defences any longer, no need to force her to talk. And besides, she honestly didn’t know anything of value.

They probably thought I wasn’t at the table for any military decisions, she thought. She’d punched Fritz for his casual assumption that she’d never be anything other than a housewife, but she had to admit that most women in Germany never were anything more than housewives. It galled her to know that such casual misogyny had provided her with a degree of protection. And even if I had been, anything I knew would be out of date.

She scowled at the thought. If she’d been a man, she would probably be dead by now. No, there was no probably about it. There was no other reason to keep her alive, now that Holliston had apparently abandoned the plan to use her to somehow break the Provisional Government. She would have ended her life hanging from a meat hook under the Reichstag if she hadn’t been a girl. Instead…

I’ll be sent east if he has his way, she thought, morbidly. And that will be the end.

It wasn’t a pleasant thought. She’d heard enough horror stories — mainly from Horst — to know she didn’t want to go to the east. Conditions were terrible, she’d been told; it was hard, nearly impossible, to find women who were willing to go. The Reich preferred to send its female prisoners east because it was cheaper than keeping them in the camps — and because it let the Reich get some use out of them. And if the women objected to their new roles as housewives and mothers, there were plenty of ways to keep them in line.

She looked at Katherine as she stepped out of the shower. Could she be trusted? Gudrun had no idea, but she knew she didn’t dare ask. Katherine had taken an immense risk asking her the question, even with the running water making it hard — if not impossible — for the audio pick-ups to hear her. And yet, was it all a trap? There was no way to know.

Occam’s Razor, she reminded herself. The simplest solution is normally the correct one.

There was no need to get her to incriminate herself further. She was the founder of the protest movement that had overthrown the Reich Council. Holliston didn’t need any more of an excuse to dispose of her, even if he did have to send her east in a mocking display of clemency for the misguided — and foolish — female. And there was no point in trying to use it to entrap Kurt. If Katherine was in contact with him, she’d know where to find him.

She glanced at Katherine. “Can I get some clothes?”

“Not yet,” Katherine said. She sounded regretful. “Orders.”

Gudrun nodded, crossly. Walking around naked now felt quite natural, although she suspected she’d change her mind if she had to leave the building. Hell, she’d change her mind if she had to face Holliston again. The would-be Führer was going mad. How long would it be, she wondered, before he decided to hurt her himself? Katherine couldn’t stop him from doing whatever the hell he wanted.

And it’s probably cold outside, she thought, darkly. She couldn’t have been in the cell for longer than a month, if that. Winter was probably already sweeping over Germanica. If I walk out like this I’ll freeze to death.

“She’s alive,” Kurt said.

The relief he felt was overwhelmingly powerful. He’d been tormented for weeks by the thought that it was his fault that Gudrun had been captured, even though she’d made her own decisions. If he’d refused to go to the hospital with her — or even reported her plans to their father — the world would be a very different place. But his sister was alive! He wanted to go to her right now… he shook his head, forcing himself to calm down. Rash action now, in the middle of the enemy camp, would be utterly disastrous.

Katherine eyed him, quizzically. “Why did you take the blame?”

Kurt shuddered. Fritz… had been a thoroughly unpleasant person. Kurt had caught him staring at Gudrun dozens of times, his eyes crawling over her breasts or buttocks and then looking away hastily when she turned her head. And he had a feeling that Fritz would have spied on Gudrun in her bedroom, if he’d had the chance. He’d been on the verge of punching the little bastard a dozen times before Gudrun had slammed her fist into his nose. Watching Fritz fall, whimpering in pain, was one of the few decent memories of his cousin.

But he’d known, even then, that Fritz would never forgive Gudrun if the world knew it was her who’d flattened him. God alone knew what he would do, in retaliation, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. Fritz was a born coward and sneak, someone who should have been kicked out of the Hitler Youth; Kurt honestly didn’t understand why he hadn’t been given the boot a long time ago. But he’d stepped forward, when his father had demanded answers; he’d told his father that he’d punched Fritz.

“Because Fritz would have sought revenge,” he said, finally. Someone like Fritz would never let it go. He’d wallow in hatred and resentment until he did something very stupid — and destroyed a life. “Gudrun’s life could have been ruined if he’d reported her for something.”

Katherine cocked her head. “You didn’t think Gudrun could handle it herself?”

“I’m her brother,” Kurt said. “It’s my job to protect her.”

He ignored Horst’s snicker and Katherine’s look of indignation. Fritz had never visited their home again, thankfully. Perhaps it was out of a misplaced sense of gratitude — or perhaps he was simply afraid of another encounter with Gudrun’s fist. But if he had… Kurt had no illusions. The right word in the right place could have utterly destroyed Gudrun’s hopes and dreams for a different future. And if he’d simply attacked her instead…

He wouldn’t have tried to rape her, he tried to tell himself. Fritz is too much of a coward to try.

Horst glanced at him. “What happened to the bastard?”

“He joined the SS,” Kurt said. He’d worried, for a while, that Fritz intended to do something to take revenge, but nothing had ever materialised. “I don’t know what happened to him afterwards.”

“Perhaps he got purged for being related to Gudrun,” Horst said.

Kurt shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. It was a pleasant thought. “Or maybe he’s still out there, somewhere.”

He cleared his throat, then looked at Horst. “Are you satisfied?”

“Mostly,” Horst said. “Are you?”

“I think so,” Kurt said. There was no one alive, save for Gudrun and himself, who knew the full story. Their father didn’t know… although Kurt had often wondered if the old man had noticed that he didn’t have blood on his knuckles. “She’s alive and well and we have an ally.”

Horst nodded, reluctantly. He’d expressed his concerns quite loudly, after Katherine had departed earlier, but they were running short of options. The possibility of being betrayed would have to be factored into their plans, along with all the other variables. And besides, if everything went well, they should be able to cope with a last-minute betrayal.

And if we can’t, we die, Kurt thought.

Katherine looked at him. “I can smuggle Gudrun out of the Reichstag in two days,” she said, bluntly. “You’ll have to get her out of the city before the alarm is raised.”

“No,” Horst said. “We’re going to attack the Reichstag tomorrow.”

Katherine started. “How many men do you have?”

“Enough,” Horst said. “You’re in the bunker, are you not? If Holliston gets into the bunker before we arrive, I want you to catch him.”

Kurt saw Katherine stiffen, just for a second. “You do realise he’ll be escorted by his bodyguards?”

“Yes,” Horst said. “But if he gets into the bunker and seals himself in, the entire plan will fail.”

Kurt winced. They’d learned far too much about the Reichstag in the last couple of days to be comfortable with anything. Shutting down radio transmissions would be easy enough, thankfully, but there were underground communications cables leading directly to SS bases outside the city. And there was a tunnel Holliston and his cronies could use to escape, if they were lucky. Given a chance to rally resistance, Holliston could plunge Germany East into a civil war.

“I understand,” Katherine said, stiffly. “Does Gudrun know how to shoot a rifle?”

“I taught her,” Horst said.

“Pathetic westerners,” Katherine said. She gave Kurt a dark look. “Do you refrain from training your women so they’ll be helpless?”

Kurt smiled. “I don’t think Gudrun is helpless.”

“And yet you felt the urge to look after her,” Katherine pointed out.

“Yes,” Kurt said. “Because I’m her brother and that’s what brothers do.”

He scowled. A rumour — even a relatively harmless rumour — could do endless damage to a young lady’s reputation. Konrad had loved Gudrun — Kurt was sure of that — but would his family have approved the match if Gudrun had acquired a reputation for sleeping around? It wouldn’t matter if the rumour was true or false, not if it had spread too far to be easily countered. Konrad would have been told, in no uncertain terms, that marrying Gudrun would cost him the rest of his family…

And no one would have cared if Konrad had slept around, he thought, grimly. Because girls have to be virgins while men…

“We can track down and kill Fritz later,” Horst said. His attitude made it clear that he wasn’t joking. “For the moment, we need to concentrate on the plan.”

Katherine gave him a sidelong look. “You do not care about your wife?”

“I care a great deal about my wife,” Horst said. “And the only way to save her is to bring this regime crashing down.”

“Good,” Katherine said. Kurt couldn’t help thinking that she and Horst would make a good match. There was something… cold… distant… in both of them. But then, Gudrun had probably warmed Horst up a little. “I’ll be ready when the time comes.”

“I can’t give you a specific time,” Horst said, as Katherine rose. “But it will come.”

Katherine nodded and strode out of the room. Kurt watched her go, unable to keep from noticing just how mannish she was. She even walked like a man. Kurt doubted Gudrun could pose as a man so effectively, even if she’d worn male clothes. There was something about Katherine that shouted out man to him. Even knowing the truth, he found it hard to see her as just another female…

…And yet, there was something about her he liked.

“You’re staring,” Horst said, quietly.

Kurt flushed. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Horst said. He shrugged. “Can you handle your part of the mission?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, flatly. He would have preferred to be on the ground, with Horst, but it couldn’t be helped. “Can your uncle handle his side of the plan?”

“If he can’t, we’re in trouble,” Horst said.

Kurt nodded. He wasn’t keen on the idea of trusting a Gauleiter, but he had to admit that Emil Forster had had ample opportunity to betray them after making contact. Hell, he hadn’t had to do anything. Kurt and Horst would have been executed as soon as they reached Germanica and the Gauleiter’s secret — his inconvenient relations — would be thoroughly buried.

And there are too many others involved, he thought, grimly. The longer we delay, the greater the chance that one of them will get cold feet.

“I’ll be on my way this afternoon, then,” Kurt said. “See you on the other side.”

“Victory or death,” Horst agreed.

Kurt winced. The plan was a desperate gamble. If it succeeded, the war would end; if it failed, they’d be trapped in Germanica, hundreds of miles from support. And while they would do immense damage to the city, it wouldn’t be enough to unseat Holliston.

“Victory or death,” he agreed.

Germanica looked quiet.

Karl Holliston stood in front of the window and peered out over the city. Darkness was descending rapidly, but he could still make out the guards watching carefully as the streets were swept clean of snow. Bringing the Untermenschen cleaners into the city was a risk, particularly now that half of the garrison had been dispatched west, yet it was one that had to be borne. It was important, very important, that life in Germanica remain as close to normal as possible.

He took a sip of his drink, tasting the alcohol as it slid down his throat. The original group of mutineers had been crushed, save for a handful of survivors who had fled into the snow to die. And the others would be crushed too, given time. And many senior officers who hadn’t shown enough fortitude, in the early hours of the mutiny, would be purged.

And the rebels haven’t tried to take advantage of the chaos, he thought, feeling a grim flicker of satisfaction. His spy was still reporting that everything was quiet in Berlin, that the enemy was going into winter quarters. By the time the rebels were ready to resume the offensive, his forces would be ready to meet them. They don’t even know we had a mutiny.

He smiled, rather coldly. The Gauleiters were meeting, plotting against him… did they think he hadn’t noticed? But they couldn’t overthrow him. A Führer could not be removed from office, save by force…

…And their forces had been sent west to confront the rebels or east to protect the settlements.

They will be purged too, he promised himself. There were just too many Gauleiters who were disloyal to him. The entire position needed to be rethought, perhaps replaced by men who would do his bidding and nothing else. Once the rebels are defeated, I will reshape the Reich so I can lead it into a glorious future.

He took another sip, enjoying the taste. His position was secure. Gudrun, for all her defiance, could do nothing to save herself; the Provisional Government, hundreds of miles away, would fall apart as it struggled to build a new order; the Gauleiters¸ ambitious bastards to a man, were powerless. And while there had been some setbacks, the future was bright and full of promise. The inevitable American collapse would allow the Reich to finally realise its destiny of ruling and reshaping the entire world.

And soon, he promised the city silently, the entire world will look like you.