Ragnarok

Chapter Four

Germanica (Moscow), Germany East

29 October 1985

They were scared of her.

Gudrun clung to the thought, even though she felt utterly naked and utterly helpless. The SS was scared of her. They had stripped her down to her underwear, searched her so thoroughly that she doubted there was even a millimetre of her body that hadn’t been inspected, then chained her up so carefully that she could barely move. And if that hadn’t been enough, they’d repeated the search at regular intervals. Did they think she’d somehow managed to conceal a weapon even as they carried her into the very heart of their territory?

She knew it was insane — she knew they weren’t scared of her — but it was all that gave her hope. They’d driven her east, then transferred her to a plane. She wouldn’t even have known they were flying her to Germanica if one of her guards hadn’t said it out loud, clearly unaware she was listening. Or perhaps it had been deliberate. They’d wanted her to fear…

“They will try to break down your resistance,” Horst had told her. It felt like years since they’d been students together, plotting how best to bring down the Reich. “They will want to make you feel helpless, as if you have lost all control over yourself. And if you let them convince you that you are hopeless, you’re doomed.”

But it was hard, so hard, to keep from feeling helpless. Gudrun had been arrested before, but the SS hadn’t known who or what she was. They’d seen her as just another troublemaker, a student in the wrong place at the wrong time… and the experience had nearly proved too much for her. Now… they knew who she was; they knew what she’d done. She had no reason to expert mercy.

And the only reason they went to so much trouble to take me alive, she thought, was because they want me for something.

She shivered, helplessly. The temperature had been dropping for hours now, ever since she’d been taken from the airport and dumped into a prison cell, but none of the guards had offered her anything more substantial to wear. Her bra and panties, already torn by the repeated strip searches, provided no protection at all. She couldn’t help wondering if she would catch her death of cold before the SS started torturing her, then decided the cold was probably part of the torture. Horst had warned her that they would do everything in their power to break her will, but his words hadn’t been anything like enough to convoy the sheer sense of helplessness and futility pervading her body and soul. Her life was definitely no longer her own.

The cell itself was completely empty, save for a bed and a bucket she was too chained up to use. She suspected it was yet another humiliation, although they hadn’t fed her anything like enough for it to be a real problem. And they hadn’t made any attempt to hide the cameras either, hanging four of them from the ceiling and wrapping them in steel mesh. Absurdly, the sight almost made her giggle. She was chained — and even if she hadn’t been, she was too short to reach them, even if she stood on the bed.

But they might have taller prisoners, she thought, Horst was a head taller than her — and she knew the SS prized height. For all she knew, Horst was a dwarf compared to some of his former comrades. Besides, the Slavs she’d seen had all been short and ugly, but was that true of all Slavs? And they clearly don’t want to take any risks.

She forced herself to relax, even though it was futile. Her wrists and ankles ached; the metal belt they’d wrapped around her hips dug into her flesh and she was hungry, terrifyingly hungry. She’d never really gone hungry in her life, even though some of the food she’d had to choke down at school was barely a step or two above the slop fed to prisoners and Gastarbeiters. Now, she couldn’t help feeling as though she didn’t have the energy for anything. It wouldn’t be long, she suspected, before she died…

…And the hell of it was that a quick death would probably be a relief.

The cell door opened. Two burly male guards stepped through, glaring suspiciously at her as if they expected her to have vanished somewhere in the last hour. Gudrun resisted the urge to rattle her chains at them; instead, she just waited — reluctantly — as they glanced around the cell, then yanked her to her feet and shoved her through the door. They didn’t speak to her, they never did. Only one of her captors had spoken to her since she’d been taken prisoner and Gudrun hadn’t seen her for days.

She forced herself to stand still as they ran their hands over her body, telling herself — desperately — that it was Horst who was touching her. But it was hard to believe it — truly believe it — when their rough fingers were pinching at her flesh and tugging down her panties to check that she hadn’t managed to conceal something between her legs. And this time, they were worse. Their hands were rubbing at her clit as if they expected her to enjoy it, their breathing growing deeper and deeper with anticipation as they pushed her over to the table and bent her over. She realised, feeling a surge of fear, that she was about to be raped…

“That will do,” a cool voice said.

The guards started, then let go of her. Gudrun twisted her head and saw Hauptsturmführer Katharine Milch standing there, looking grim. The older woman — the first woman she’d seen wearing a uniform — looked hellishly intimidating. If she had a right to wear that uniform, Gudrun thought, she wouldn’t just be as good as a man, she’d be better. And she’d saved Gudrun from a fate worse than death…

…Or had she?

Did they really plan to rape me, Gudrun asked herself, or was she always meant to save me from them?

It was impossible to tell. She knew just what horrors awaited prisoners, but she found it hard to believe that the SS guards in Germanica were so undisciplined that they would rape a prisoner without permission. And yet… she couldn’t help feeling relief, clinging to Katharine like a drowning man would cling to a lifejacket. But had the whole incident been set up to make her cling to Katharine? She had no way to know.

She cursed under her breath as Katharine pulled her panties back into position, then helped Gudrun to walk slowly towards the door. It was hard, so hard, to walk with a chain wrapped around her ankles. If Katharine hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen over several times. And yet… what was Katharine doing? Where were they going?

It was a relief to be out of the cell, but the interior of the building wasn’t particularly reassuring. She couldn’t help remembering the interior of the first prison she’d visited — and her old school, which had probably been designed by the same person. Grey walls, solid metal doors… no signs on the walls, let alone paintings or anything else that would give the building personality. It was completely soulless… she shivered, again, as they reached an elevator and stepped inside. The air was, if anything, growing colder. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering.

She hadn’t wanted to talk to Katharine, but she couldn’t help herself. “Where are we going?”

The older woman gave her a cold look. “Someone wants to see you.”

Gudrun winced as the elevator came to a halt. She had a nasty feeling she knew precisely who they were going to see. The doors hissed open, revealing a carpeted hallway leading down to a pair of heavy wooden doors. She stepped gingerly out of the elevator, silently relieved to walk on something other than cold stone; Katharine helped her down the corridor, snarling at her whenever she looked left or right. And yet, Gudrun couldn’t help herself. The walls were decorated in portraits of the honoured dead, all looking too handsome and muscular to be real. She caught sight of a man who looked like Horst, drawn against a burning panzer and wondered, suddenly if he was a relative. Horst had never said much about his father, merely that he’d died in the wars…

Two SS stormtroopers stood guard outside the doors, their eyes barely flickering over Gudrun as she approached. They didn’t even seem to be aware that she was practically naked! She felt a sudden flicker of anger as Katharine spoke to the guards, realising that she’d been right all along. The guards who had dragged her out of her cell had been acting, giving Katharine an opportunity to play the hero… she pushed the thought aside, sharply, as the doors opened to reveal the largest office she’d ever seen. A single wooden desk was positioned at the far end, a man she recognised from his photographs sitting behind it. And seventeen men were standing against the wall, staring at her.

Gudrun had to fight to keep from cringing. She’d been brought here — chained up, almost nude — to humiliate her in front of the men. Karl Holliston, sitting behind the desk, had planned the whole thing. He didn’t think of women as fit for anything, save for being mothers, daughters and housewives. Exposing her was merely the first step towards undermining everything she’d done. It would be hard for any of the men to respect her after they’d seen her in such a fallen state…

She shivered. Two years ago, a girl she’d known — vaguely — had been expelled after allowing her boyfriend to take nude photographs of her. Gudrun and her girlfriends had been horrified. How could she have allowed her boyfriend to take photographs that might — easily — fall into the wrong hands? No one had ever looked at her the same way again. In the end, she’d emigrated to Germany South, where all that mattered was the right bloodline and the ability to bear children. Gudrun had no idea what had happened to the poor girl after that.

Katharine pushed her forward, gently. Gudrun braced herself, stood as firmly as the chains would allow and began to walk towards the desk. The watching men made no sound, no catcalls nor expressions of pity; they just watched as she stepped forward. Holliston’s face twisted oddly as he studied her, his expression dark and cold. Gudrun shivered, despite herself. Holliston wasn’t interested in anything, but power. He’d do anything to keep it.

She came to a halt and stared at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She’d met enough powerful men — her father had always seemed all-powerful to her — to know that open defiance was rarely welcomed. Neither her father nor her male teachers had been pleased when she’d talked back to them, although — in all honesty — her mother and her female teachers had been pretty much the same. Hell, it had been harder to predict what would set her mother off…

“Gudrun,” Holliston said. His voice was very cold. “Battle-maiden.”

Gudrun felt a hot flash of anger. Only Konrad had ever called her that, back when they’d been getting to know one another. He’d said it to tease her…

“You could have borne the Reich many strong sons,” Holliston continued. “Instead, you chose to bring it down.”

It was hard to keep the smirk off her face, despite the danger. Holliston and his ilk had never considered that a mere woman could be dangerous. Hell, Gudrun had been eighteen when Konrad had been wounded. Old enough to marry, old enough to bear children, but not old enough to be considered a responsible adult. She’d practically been a minor child, as far as the law was concerned; she’d certainly enjoyed no greater rights at eighteen than at eight. But then, Holliston probably needed a woman to be a grandmother before he started taking her seriously…

She threw caution to the winds. “The man I was going to marry was wounded in one of your wars,” she said. There was no point in trying to hide it. She’d told the story often enough that it had probably reached Germanica by now. “And you didn’t even have the decency to tell us what had happened to him.”

Holliston showed no visible reaction to her words. “Your boyfriend gave his life in defence of civilisation,” he said. “You betrayed him.”

Gudrun felt another surge of anger. That comment stung. Konrad would not have approved of her standing up to the Reich. He’d been a loyal SS stormtrooper. And she’d married Horst…

“He didn’t die,” she said. “You kept him alive, unable to heal him and unable to just let him go. You betrayed him.”

She forced her voice to harden. “You betrayed everyone.”

“And you betrayed the Reich,” Holliston countered. “Or have you forgotten the oath you swore every day at school? And when you joined the BDM?”

“I forgot nothing,” Gudrun said. He had a point, she had to admit. She’d been swearing loyalty long before she’d actually known what the words meant. “But the Reich betrayed its citizens first.”

She leaned forward, almost overbalancing and falling over. “Konrad was your ideal,” she said. “Brave and bold, blonde and strong; I could have been happy as his wife, bearing his children and bringing them up while he fought to defend the Reich. But instead he was killed in an unwinnable war and you didn’t even have the decency to admit what happened to him.

“And if that is what you will do to Konrad,” she added, “what will you do to everyone who does not come up to scratch? Your stormtroopers killed young men in Germany Prime, they raped and abused young women. How can you claim to be fighting for the Volk when you abuse it?”

She looked at the other men in the room. “What will happen to your sons? Or to your daughters?”

“Be silent,” Holliston said.

Gudrun ignored him. She’d been silent for too long. Eighteen years of her life had been spent accepting that her place in the world would always be subordinate to a man, even though she’d managed to win a place at university. She’d loved Konrad — she admitted it to herself — but she knew now she would never have been happy as a housewife, doing nothing more than cooking his food and bearing his children. And perhaps she would have been left alone if Konrad had gone back to the war and died there.

“You and yours ruled the Reich for forty years,” she said, turning back to him. If these were going to be her last words, they were going to be good ones. “And yet you’re scared to let the people breathe. You ran the entire country into the ground! Do you really think I could have gotten anywhere if the people hadn’t had a cause? You made your own enemies.”

She allowed her voice to harden. “You did this to us,” she added. “Your entire claim to power is based on a lie.”

“I do not expect you to understand,” Holliston said. His voice dripped contempt. “You’re only a girl.”

Gudrun bit down on her reaction, hard. He wanted her to scream at him; he wanted her to explode in feminine rage, to prove to his allies that Gudrun was just an emotional girl — a child — whose opinion was too emotional to be valid. But she’d sat on the cabinet, back in Berlin. She’d learned more, she suspected, than he’d ever realised. And keeping her temper under control was only part of it.

“I don’t think that anyone has any doubt that I am a young woman,” she said, shrugging as through her near-nakedness didn’t bother her. “But does that make me wrong?”

She looked up, her eyes moving from face to face. “Does that make me wrong?”

Holliston made no attempt to answer the question. Part of her considered that to be a good thing, a tacit confession that he had no answer. But the rest of her knew it wasn’t ideal. She could be right — or wrong — and yet it didn’t matter. She was still a prisoner, trapped hundreds of miles from her friends and comrades. And even if they knew where she was, getting to her would be almost impossible. She was doomed.

“You will be interrogated until we have drained every last scrap of information from you,” Holliston informed her, instead. “And then you will be put on trial for crimes against the Reich.”

Gudrun almost smiled. A trial? The Reich rarely bothered with trials. A criminal was guilty — if he wasn’t guilty, he wouldn’t be in jail. But she knew exactly what he had in mind. He could order her shot at any moment, but that would just make her a martyr. She’d be more dangerous to him in death than she’d ever been in life. He needed to break her — to discredit her — before he killed her. By then, death would probably be a relief.

“Take her back to her cell,” he ordered. “And make sure she’s held securely.”

“Jawohl, Mein Führer,” Katharine said.

Gudrun gritted her teeth as Katharine swung her around, then forced herself to walk towards the door. She was damned if she was showing weakness now, despite the humiliation. If she was a prisoner, she’d be a tough prisoner…

And maybe I can work on Katherine too, she thought, as she made her way out of the door and back down the corridor. She might have ideas of her own now.

It wasn’t much, she acknowledged. But it was all she had.