Fatherland [IC/OPEN/ALT-HISTORY]

[Eredion]

Lukas examines what the reporter had written in finnish, while taking a couple of drags, not understanding much of it, but not really being too concerned with it.

"Well, everything seems in order, but I am afraid the car rental will not open for quite some time, so it would be useless to spend any more time around here."

He looked back at his car

"You know what? Just hop into my car, I can drive you to where you need to go, I was on the way already, before being called off, the men here seem to have it under control and I can resume normal duty afterwards."

He awaits the response of the finnish reporter, paying close attention to his facial expressions and his gestures.

[Dosteovania]

He ordered one of all the constables running around to help him carry the unconscious culprit into the back of his car, and come with him back to the station. The younger man in green uniform did as he was told. Martin gave him the car keys. Just as Weismann's car arrived, theirs left. Martin hoped he would get some time to question this Ivan by himself before anyone else got to interrogate and/or beat him up.

Anna-Katrin nodded, a satisfied smile on her face as she watch Leutnant Waltz and another constable shove the shooter into Waltz's car and leave. She motioned another office over.

"Go tell Dietrich to get his ass back to the station on the double and start in on questioning. I'll hold off Weismann as long as I can. Tell Dietrich I said 'NO NOTES'. He'll know what I'm talking about. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I'm able."

The officer nodded and headed off across the garage. Anna-Katrin watched as Weismann's car pulled into the garage and stopped. She greeted Weismann's driver Gruber with a smile, and then steeled herself to deal with Weismann. She had to hold him off long enough for Dietrich to get back to the station.

She watched Weismann flinch visibly as he got out of the car. Although she'd had dealings with him before, she had no idea of his past service to the Reich, nor, quite honestly, did she really care. In her mind, he was nothing but a tight-ass annoyance, sent down by the higher-ups to get on her nerves. She didn't give a damn that he was five ranks above her. The stars on his shoulder boards did not faze her one single bit.

She returned his full salute with nothing more than a touch of her bloodstained fingertips to the brim of her visor cap, a nod of her head, and a bored expression on her face.

"Heil Hitler, Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann. You'll pardon the blood all over me...one of the Gauleiters was shot and I had to help out whilst we waited for the ambulance. As for what's going on here, unfortunately, the information you've received is way off base. There's been no terrorist action here, I'm afraid. It's nothing more than an irate illegal immigrant pissed off at being pulled over by a police officer. These things happen," she said, shrugging. "I don't know why they bothered to send you all the way out here today!"

[New Decius]

He ordered one of all the constables running around to help him carry the unconscious culprit into the back of his car, and come with him back to the station. The younger man in green uniform did as he was told. Martin gave him the car keys. Just as Weismann's car arrived, theirs left. Martin hoped he would get some time to question this Ivan by himself before anyone else got to interrogate and/or beat him up.

Anna-Katrin nodded, a satisfied smile on her face as she watch Leutnant Waltz and another constable shove the shooter into Waltz's car and leave. She motioned another office over.

"Go tell Dietrich to get his ass back to the station on the double and start in on questioning. I'll hold off Weismann as long as I can. Tell Dietrich I said 'NO NOTES'. He'll know what I'm talking about. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I'm able."

The officer nodded and headed off across the garage. Anna-Katrin watched as Weismann's car pulled into the garage and stopped. She greeted Weismann's driver Gruber with a smile, and then steeled herself to deal with Weismann. She had to hold him off long enough for Dietrich to get back to the station.

She watched Weismann flinch visibly as he got out of the car. Although she'd had dealings with him before, she had no idea of his past service to the Reich, nor, quite honestly, did she really care. In her mind, he was nothing but a tight-ass annoyance, sent down by the higher-ups to get on her nerves. She didn't give a damn that he was five ranks above her. The stars on his shoulder boards did not faze her one single bit.

She returned his full salute with nothing more than a touch of her bloodstained fingertips to the brim of her visor cap, a nod of her head, and a bored expression on her face.

"Heil Hitler, Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann. You'll pardon the blood all over me...one of the Gauleiters was shot and I had to help out whilst we waited for the ambulance. As for what's going on here, unfortunately, the information you've received is way off base. There's been no terrorist action here, I'm afraid. It's nothing more than an irate illegal immigrant pissed off at being pulled over by a police officer. These things happen," she said, shrugging. "I don't know why they bothered to send you all the way out here today!"

Weismann sighed as he realized what was going on. Likely she assumed he was a just a hard-ass down from headquarters, rather than a well-seasoned veteran of the Schutzstaffel. But, he saw something larger at work here. It smelled similar to his operation in Italy with the Italian Secret Service in 1950-1951, hunting down a Soviet spy ring that ran from Rome to Naples. A supposedly 'Irate Illegal Immigrant' with an airport shooting. Turned out to be a distraction so that a couple of supposedly innocent bystanders, in reality Libyan arms smugglers getting weapons to said Soviet spy ring.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Search all passengers and flights that have come in within the timeline of this incident or within several hours before it. Russians, Libyans, Ukrainians, all of them. Any who fit the profile of arms smugglers." When Anna gave him a look of confusion and annoyance he explained. "There is a method to my madness. In 1950 through 1951, I worked as the lead of a Joint-Task force between the Schutzstaffel and the Italian Secret Service to take down a ring of Soviet spies running from Rome to Naples. This smells of that case. In early 51, a seemingly irate illegal immigrant from Spain committed a shooting at an airport. We later discovered a week after that it was merely a distraction for a group of Libyan arms dealers to slip through airport security and get explosives to the Soviet's. We found it out two days after but by then Italian Security Police had already mishandled the evidence enough that the arms dealers were in the wind."

He decided to flash his badges of rank. "If necessary I will remind you that my authority comes from the office of Reichsführer Heydrich therefore I can order such actions." He hated to have to do that. "I really do not want to have to do so, after all we are all just working towards the greater security of Germany and the Thousand Year Reich." He threw another card out to get the ball moving. "Just as your husband did Fraulein von Bödeker. I knew the late Field Marshal and he was a good man and a good soldier."

[Russian-America]

Templhof International Airport Car Rental, Berlin
April 14th, 1964

---

Jyrki had just finished explaining his situation when the other SS fellow appeared. A rather young man, around his early to mid 20s, Jyrki saw him getting off his car and approaching him and the Sturmbannfuhrer. He frowned as the young man exclaimed that he had to leave, obviously not having heard his conversation with the other officer. To make things worse, the young SS man had demanded to take a look at his notebook. This would not normally be a problem as he always took notes in Finnish but this time it was different. He did mention both Klein and Berliinin yliopiston (University of Berlin). And more worrying, he had written Holokausti with a bold question mark next to it. Although the first pages of his notebook were things concerning the Fuhrer's birthday celebrations he could not risk the SS man beyond the second page.

"I was explaining to your esteemed colleague here, I am the Finnish state television reporter here to cover the Fuhrer's birthday. I just arrived from Templhof International Airport, and I was not aware of any 'inciden't happening here. " he said, looking towards the SS man who was now smoking his cigarette. "I think your colleague can also confirm that I just asked him instructions on how to leave the car rental, as obviously I need to go to Berlin to continue my report." Jyrki continued, lighting the cigarette he had taken out of his case.

He ripped the first page of his notepad and gave it to the young SS man. "This is some of the things I have written down so far, most notes taken while I was still on the plane." Jyrki said, finding an opportunity to finally put his notepad in his bag with the other baggage. Hopefully this would satisfy the curiosity of the SS man and the other officer would intervene so that he could left off the hook.

Hans nodded to the man and said, "Well. Don't worry about it Untersturmmfuhrer. I'll take him to where he needs to go while handling the task that Anna prescribed to me. Hop in the Mercedes, reporter." while nodding to Anna. He strolled to the AKM-47, picking it up and strolled back to the vehicle with it in hand. He opened the trunk and opened a box. He pulled out a evidence bag. He slid the AK in the evidence bag and placed it in the back of the trunk. He shut the trunk and walked back over to the Finnish reporter. Waiting for him to accept his invitation or decline it.

Meanwhile... in Martin's car

The Russian spy was shouting in Russian at the detective and stomping his feet angrily. Assuming that the detective arrived at the Polizei-HQ or Jail. He spoke in terrible german. "You'll never find out who I am!"

[Orange-Bourgogne]

Federal Military Court, Berlin
"Come in, please," Karl von Nassau-Hessen said. A Leutnant from the 15th Infantry Division of the Heer stepped into the courtroom, wearing his gala-uniform.

"Are you 65435156, Leutnant Franz Strasser?"
"Yes."
"You are accused by the federal military prosecutor of high treason, do you understand the accusement?"
"Yes."
"How do you plead?"
"Innocent, sir, I..."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear your complaints about the system. And don't you even think of speaking again, unless I ask you something. Understand that?!"
"Yes."
"Good. Mister prosecutor, what evidence do you have?"
"Herr Richter, Mister Strasser tried to stab his commander, Hauptmann Geller, because he was not commissioned as his senior advisor. I have these testimonies *gives testimonies to Karl*, from Hauptmann Geller and his clerk, Frau Baden."
"Well then, Leutnant, I convict you of assault and treason to the Wehrmacht. I sentence you to death by hanging. That's all.

NEXT ONE!" Karl shouted out loud and the next 2-minutes trial was about to start.

[Barapam]

During the war, Martin had learned some Russian, and even though he rarely had the opportunity to practice it these days, he still remembered enough to fully understand the curses and insults coming out of the mouth of their captive. He decided not to show it though, not yet. It could come in handy later if the Russkie thought that they didn't understand him. Martin's Russian wasn't the best, far from, but it was better than the German they heard from the backseat, although Martin was almost sure that the Soviet was just pretending to be that bad, in order to lull them into a false sense of security, in the same way that Martin hid his knowledge of Russian for him. He made a show of ignoring him, and started to chat with the driver instead.

"So, what's your name, Unterwachtmeister?" he asked him casually.
"Horst Keller, Leutnant." The private responded without taking his eyes from the road.
"Hm, after Horst Wessel I presume?"
"Yes, Leutnant". Keller kept his answers short and concise. They had almost reached their destination now, and Keller made a turn in on Adolf-Hitler-Straße.
"I see. Well, I'm Martin Waltz, but perhaps you already knew that."
"Yes. I've heard about you, Leutnant. How you caught that kidnapper recently. I, and many others, think you deserve a medal."
"I was just doing my job, Keller."
"But still." He drove down into the police garage and parked. Martin stepped out first, and opened the door for the Russian.

"RAUS!!!" he shouted at him, grabbed his shirt collar, and dragged him out. Keller took him from the other side, and together they led him inside where a cold cell awaited him.

[Cuprum]

Geissinger's Office - Berlin - Third Reich

I love Mondays – don’t get me wrong, weekends rock – what could be better than Summer in the coast of Otago, the Kid’s Capital of New Zealand? I took the tribe over to the new wave pool to try and prove that I wasn’t the grommet they think I am! But Monday is the day to set the tone for another week of success – can’t wait to hear what the team got up to and what goals they’re planning on dealing to this week. We’ll kick off with a review of the business plan – I try and get it out at least once a month to check on progress and relevance. Then I’ll do the rounds of the factory floor – it always amazes me what you pick up from chatting to the troops and checking on the machinery – it’s where most of our best innovations have come from.

Tuesday - Today is what I call my “money” day – I’ll spend the morning going through the financials to make sure the margins are where they should be, and that cash collection is on track. I hate those phone calls to the customers who haven’t paid on time, but if I don’t get in first, they’ll just pay the squeakiest wheel – being a bank is not in my business plan! At least after I get that job out of the way, I’ll have a quick catch up with my accountant – much more fun! We check in every couple of weeks to run through some of the things I don’t understand – she got me sorted with this real-time system a few years ago, so we’re always up to date with the numbers and can discuss the future not just the past.

Wednesday - Very exciting day today – my top sales rep had a customer complaining that one of our products wasn’t up to scratch. She took the production manager straight out there to sort the problem, and while chatting to the client, he came up with this brilliant idea for an add-on product. Can’t believe nobody had thought of it before! I’ve blocked my diary for a few hours for us to flesh out the concept and do the project analysis – I think it’s a goer but will get all the wise heads I can to have their input first.

Thursday - Got my quarterly Advisory Board meeting today – always makes me nervous as they keep asking me “why” I’m doing stuff, and reaming me out for the things I haven’t been able to get to yet. But secretly, I enjoy it – it was getting pretty lonely trying to manage the growth of the business by myself, and I never realised quite how much I didn’t know! Their opinion on this new product will be interesting – none of the three are from my industry, so they won’t be wearing my rose-tinted glasses. Got a game of squash with my bank manager afterwards – always makes the brain work better for the afternoon, even although I usually let him win!

Friday - I’ll do the rounds again this morning – I try and get out to a couple of our key customers every week, gives me a bit of an insight into what their problems are which gives the team something to work on. Managed to squeeze lunch out of our biggest supplier later on today – need to give them a tune-up about delivery times so we can keep our stock levels down, already got too much cash tied up in that. Then I’ll head off to an exporting seminar – the business plan says we have to grow exports by 40% this year, and there’s plenty I still need to learn.

Overall, I’d give the week a 9 out of 10 – always room to improve and looking forward to a quick drink with the team. I’ve got this whole love/hate thing going on with Fridays! It’s the weekend tomorrow, time to chill out, but I actually miss work – some of my friends think I’m nuts but I think I’ve got the balance right.

[Dosteovania]

Weismann sighed as he realized what was going on. Likely she assumed he was a just a hard-ass down from headquarters, rather than a well-seasoned veteran of the Schutzstaffel. But, he saw something larger at work here. It smelled similar to his operation in Italy with the Italian Secret Service in 1950-1951, hunting down a Soviet spy ring that ran from Rome to Naples. A supposedly 'Irate Illegal Immigrant' with an airport shooting. Turned out to be a distraction so that a couple of supposedly innocent bystanders, in reality Libyan arms smugglers getting weapons to said Soviet spy ring.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Search all passengers and flights that have come in within the timeline of this incident or within several hours before it. Russians, Libyans, Ukrainians, all of them. Any who fit the profile of arms smugglers." When Anna gave him a look of confusion and annoyance he explained. "There is a method to my madness. In 1950 through 1951, I worked as the lead of a Joint-Task force between the Schutzstaffel and the Italian Secret Service to take down a ring of Soviet spies running from Rome to Naples. This smells of that case. In early 51, a seemingly irate illegal immigrant from Spain committed a shooting at an airport. We later discovered a week after that it was merely a distraction for a group of Libyan arms dealers to slip through airport security and get explosives to the Soviet's. We found it out two days after but by then Italian Security Police had already mishandled the evidence enough that the arms dealers were in the wind."

He decided to flash his badges of rank. "If necessary I will remind you that my authority comes from the office of Reichsführer Heydrich therefore I can order such actions." He hated to have to do that. "I really do not want to have to do so, after all we are all just working towards the greater security of Germany and the Thousand Year Reich." He threw another card out to get the ball moving. "Just as your husband did Fraulein von Bödeker. I knew the late Field Marshal and he was a good man and a good soldier."

Anna-Katrin's heart gave a little lurch in her chest at the mention of her husband, and she looked down at her bloodstained hands. She closed her eyes, mentally shook herself, and looked Weismann straight in the eyes. Her blue eyes sparkled angrily.

"Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann, your badges of rank do not impress me. When you can call der Führer a close, personal friend as I can, perhaps only THEN might I be impressed. You may stand five ranks above me, but I'm here and I work under the strict orders of our leader, and the only orders I follow are HIS."

A call came over her radio, and she hurriedly grabbed it while turning her back to Weismann. He was unable to hear what was being said, except for Anna-Katrin's side of the conversation.

"Yes...no, put him...Jesus, really? Ok, ok, give me about an hour. Scheisse."

She clipped her radio back onto her belt as she turned back to face Weismann. She absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the thick knot of scar tissue that was a permanent reminder of one of the worst times in her life...

"I will get my men working on your request, but we're a little short-staffed, so we'll need some help from your office. And yes, I remember when all of that shit happened with the Soviets. What a shame the whole operation got botched." Her tone was mocking.

"A few other things, Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann. One, my name is Anna-Katrin, not Anna. I would appreciate it if you would remember that. Secondly, don't EVER try and use your rank against me. You'll find out rather quickly just WHO I am...as I told you before, the fact that you're five ranks above me does not impress me, nor does it scare me. And three..." her voice trailed off for a moment, and the look on her face would've struck fear in the heart of any lesser man.

"Don't ever mention my husband in my presence again. You have NO IDEA what he was like."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

[Barapam]

Leutnant Martin Waltz lit himself a cigarette. He offered private Keller, who stood at attention by the grey wall, but he politely declined. He didn't smoke. Martin offered the Russian a cigarette too. He wasn't worth it, but it often made criminals more talkative, in Martin's experience. And that was the whole point of the interrogation. Or rather "the preliminary questioning", to put it correctly.

The room they were in was grey and dull. The only source of light was the lamp on the grey table. Grey chairs, grey walls. It looked really depressing, and it was done on purpose. It was far to the ceiling, in order to give the interrogated the feeling of being small and meaningless. The mirror glass on one of the walls did its best to help increasing that feeling. You never knew who was watching. It was the same with the security cameras above.

Martin started the recorder and routinely gave the regular info, time, date, people present in the room, and so on. Then he began to properly grill the guy sitting across the table.

"All right, Monsieur Aldric Fontaine... what's your real name? What were you doing at Tempelhof Car Rental earlier today?" He puffed out some smoke. "Who do you work for? KGB? GRU? Some other agency?" He paused. "Perhaps we should go back to your childhood. Where are you born?"

[New Decius]

Weismann sighed as he realized what was going on. Likely she assumed he was a just a hard-ass down from headquarters, rather than a well-seasoned veteran of the Schutzstaffel. But, he saw something larger at work here. It smelled similar to his operation in Italy with the Italian Secret Service in 1950-1951, hunting down a Soviet spy ring that ran from Rome to Naples. A supposedly 'Irate Illegal Immigrant' with an airport shooting. Turned out to be a distraction so that a couple of supposedly innocent bystanders, in reality Libyan arms smugglers getting weapons to said Soviet spy ring.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Search all passengers and flights that have come in within the timeline of this incident or within several hours before it. Russians, Libyans, Ukrainians, all of them. Any who fit the profile of arms smugglers." When Anna gave him a look of confusion and annoyance he explained. "There is a method to my madness. In 1950 through 1951, I worked as the lead of a Joint-Task force between the Schutzstaffel and the Italian Secret Service to take down a ring of Soviet spies running from Rome to Naples. This smells of that case. In early 51, a seemingly irate illegal immigrant from Spain committed a shooting at an airport. We later discovered a week after that it was merely a distraction for a group of Libyan arms dealers to slip through airport security and get explosives to the Soviet's. We found it out two days after but by then Italian Security Police had already mishandled the evidence enough that the arms dealers were in the wind."

He decided to flash his badges of rank. "If necessary I will remind you that my authority comes from the office of Reichsführer Heydrich therefore I can order such actions." He hated to have to do that. "I really do not want to have to do so, after all we are all just working towards the greater security of Germany and the Thousand Year Reich." He threw another card out to get the ball moving. "Just as your husband did Fraulein von Bödeker. I knew the late Field Marshal and he was a good man and a good soldier."

Anna-Katrin's heart gave a little lurch in her chest at the mention of her husband, and she looked down at her bloodstained hands. She closed her eyes, mentally shook herself, and looked Weismann straight in the eyes. Her blue eyes sparkled angrily.

"Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann, your badges of rank do not impress me. When you can call der Führer a close, personal friend as I can, perhaps only THEN might I be impressed. You may stand five ranks above me, but I'm here and I work under the strict orders of our leader, and the only orders I follow are HIS."

A call came over her radio, and she hurriedly grabbed it while turning her back to Weismann. He was unable to hear what was being said, except for Anna-Katrin's side of the conversation.

"Yes...no, put him...Jesus, really? Ok, ok, give me about an hour. Scheisse."

She clipped her radio back onto her belt as she turned back to face Weismann. She absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the thick knot of scar tissue that was a permanent reminder of one of the worst times in her life...

"I will get my men working on your request, but we're a little short-staffed, so we'll need some help from your office. And yes, I remember when all of that shit happened with the Soviets. What a shame the whole operation got botched." Her tone was mocking.

"A few other things, Oberst Gruppenführer Weismann. One, my name is Anna-Katrin, not Anna. I would appreciate it if you would remember that. Secondly, don't EVER try and use your rank against me. You'll find out rather quickly just WHO I am...as I told you before, the fact that you're five ranks above me does not impress me, nor does it scare me. And three..." her voice trailed off for a moment, and the look on her face would've struck fear in the heart of any lesser man.

"Don't ever mention my husband in my presence again. You have NO IDEA what he was like."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

As they watched her walk away Weismann chuckled slightly as he processed what she had just told him. 'What an interesting woman. I'm glad we're on the same side, I would hate to have her for an enemy.' He then turned back to the work at hand. Weismann immediately turned to Gruber to give his instructions and have him relay those to the other units. "If this was indeed a distraction then we will be looking for someone who looks like they are not trying to avoid looking suspicious." This contradiction nearly put Gruber round the twist so Weismann elaborated further on that point. "In Italy, the Libyan's knew that if they looked like they were trying to not look suspicious, they would be picked up immediately. What we are looking for is someone making themselves purposefully conspicuous, someone whom police would pass over as too obvious or clumsy to actually be hiding something." In other words, anyone making a scene or notice of themselves.

"Now, given the Russian the suspect spoke, he may be working for the Russian's, or that could be a cover. When it comes to smuggling, Ukrainians are the best bet. Check flights routed through neutral countries such as Switzerland, Sweden, and Turkey before they arrived here. Work with Tempelhof security, the Führer's birthday is coming up after all, no stone must be left unturned. In the meanwhile, I would like to speak with this irate illegal immigrant." With that he and Gruber headed back towards the staff car to embark on a journey to wherever it was the prisoner was being held, information which could be obtained with a single call. Once inside the car, Gruber began relaying the orders to the units under Weismann's authority as he pulled the car out of the garage and headed for the main city.

Weismann used the radio to make contact with SS-Headquarters and obtain the location of the prisoner; the Polizei Headquarters, he should have guessed. Soon enough they were on their way through the streets to the building.

[Cuprum]

Agatha was where she was happiest. Entrenched deep within the pages of a terribly ponderous tome. The Capital was an ancient book written by Karl Marx. She’d never even seen the book before and was surprised to find it in the library of Berlin.She had her nose buried in the book for hours, and was devouring the material as quickly as her eyes could slide across the page when she heard the door to the library open and shut. She was surprised, it was rare that she was joined. She glanced up over her candle, seeing the cloudy eyes of Mr. Geissinger.

“Mr. Geissinger!” she said, just loud enough to hear, as he entered the room.

First Luise and now her... Geissinger solemnly thought, this library was meant to be a place of refuge. Even here I am not safe.

"Nice to see you, Ms. Seeger" Geissinger greeted cautiously. He wondered what book she was reading, he couldn't tell due to his ailment.

"Would you like to join me? I've found this library to be a wonderful collection of books that Brandenburg cannot even begin to compete with." said Agatha, smiling broadly over her book.

"In truth the solitude of the library is nice, I've yet to see my brother or the SS murder chimps even once in here since our stay in Berlin has began. It is a relief to escape reality by diving into a book from time to time." she finished, looking expectantly at Geissinger.

"It certainly is," Geissinger agreed, her thoughts were similar to his. The books were a great escape from his life here but recently not even they could quell his feelings of desolation and boredom of making a lot of money.

"But that does not answer my question" she said with a bemused smirk, "I asked if you would like to join me. The library is so wonderfully private, it is always welcome to spend this time with someone who appreciates books. I'm afraid I seldom get that, my brother is averse to books in the same way that I am averse to women's duties." She looked at him expectantly, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.

I could also offer to take her to some promenade, Geissinger wondered but in the end conceded to her gesture with a heavy sigh. He realized within a moment he had no book with him. The Wolf of the DAX was hoping to pass time pretending to be engrossed in some text than talk to Agatha. It could have been any text, even nursery rhymes would have done him justice.

Agatha did not miss the heavy sigh that Geissinger gave her. What have I done to so offend the man. I thought perhaps breakfast was just an odd morning. Clearly she was mistaken. Rather than say what she was thinking, Agatha decided to pretend to be oblivious to his dislike. "Mr. Geissinger I must confess I am shocked to only just now be seeing you in here. A library such as this could enthrall me for a lifetime."

"I have practically lived in this library all my life," Geissinger answered her, "I was never sent away as a priest or a flatterer like my brother. Father deemed me to ill-fit to bother. So I stayed here," he gestured around the large collections of books all over the library, " under the tutelage of the Director Barbara Schneider-Kempf. I devoured every single text here. From the Age of Heroes, to the Operation Barbarrosa to the histories of the known world in the East.... I like to think I know everything but the Director argued that there were thousands of texts whose copies only existed within the confines of the Nazi Partei."

"That sounds like an amazing youth. In all honesty this is the first time I've left the Capital for any great length of time. I'd love to see the library of New York. Our own teacher often spoke of it when dabbling in our own small library." She smiled at Geissinger before asking, "Did you ever get to visit the library at New York?"

Agatha was at her happiest at this moment. She'd often found that when a topic interested her, she could talk at length for hours on the subject without interruption or acknowledgement that time was even passing.

Geissingercouldn't help but smile back with her enthusiasm on the subject. He could never have imagined a woman taking interest in books like him.

"I have never visited the library in New York," Geissinger confessed, "It was far too West. Besides the place is in the Enemy lands."

[Russian-America]

Leutnant Martin Waltz lit himself a cigarette. He offered private Keller, who stood at attention by the grey wall, but he politely declined. He didn't smoke. Martin offered the Russian a cigarette too. He wasn't worth it, but it often made criminals more talkative, in Martin's experience. And that was the whole point of the interrogation. Or rather "the preliminary questioning", to put it correctly.

The room they were in was grey and dull. The only source of light was the lamp on the grey table. Grey chairs, grey walls. It looked really depressing, and it was done on purpose. It was far to the ceiling, in order to give the interrogated the feeling of being small and meaningless. The mirror glass on one of the walls did its best to help increasing that feeling. You never knew who was watching. It was the same with the security cameras above.

Martin started the recorder and routinely gave the regular info, time, date, people present in the room, and so on. Then he began to properly grill the guy sitting across the table.

"All right, Monsieur Aldric Fontaine... what's your real name? What were you doing at Tempelhof Car Rental earlier today?" He puffed out some smoke. "Who do you work for? KGB? GRU? Some other agency?" He paused. "Perhaps we should go back to your childhood. Where are you born?"

RUSSIAN TERRORIST - POLIZEI HEADQUARTERS - DOWNTOWN BERLIN - DEUTSCHE REICH

"Aldric Fontaine" grinned and said, "You stupid fascist. If you had any idea of who I was, you would know. Your government has played a role in ethnic cleansing and your very co-workers are working at it. I can point some people out. Hans Dietrich? Served at Auschwitz. You do not know the role your government plays.... I was sent here to kill him. I will be honest with you but only because you like many other Germans probably don't know what's been happening in your very country. I am Vladimir Loshevinka. A-15965. A Slavic Jew imprisoned at Auschwitz for just being a Jew. I managed to escape in the Fall of 1957 from Auschwitz and have been traveling on a forged passport and information for years. You're probably wondering why I am so willing to give up my freedom to the fascists after escaping... I wanted to kill Hans Dietrich. Auschwitz was a extermination camp. People worked constantly as slave labor. All these tables? Probably made in this very camp or were used to carry a dead person to the crematorium there. Hans Dietrich was a kind man but he must be killed for allowing the crimes to take place." before using his handcuffed hands to wiggle in to his back pants pocket and pull out a picture. He slung it on to the table the best he could. The picture was a picture of Hans Dietrich at Auschwitz.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ca/5b/20/ca5b2014fb78d71b259063368f3f02e1.jpg
((Can't post it here because the forum's 900 pixel high rule.)

HANS DIETRICH - DEPARTING FROM THE CRIME SCENE, HEADING TOWARDS POLIZEI HEADQUARTERS - BERLIN - DEUTSCHE REICH

It was true. Hans Dietrich was a former member of the infamous SS-Totenkopfverbande which was heavily involved with the deathcamps. Hans got in to his black Mercedes SL 300 and turned the vehicle on while he proceeded to drive to the Polizei Headquarters. Flashbacks from Auschwitz rushed his mind. Hans grabbed his Coca Cola bottle and popped the lid off, while maneuvering to the side of the road. He opened the glovebox of the Mercedes and pulled out his pillbottle of anti-anxiety medication. He popped one of them in to his mouth and bit down on it. He continued chewing it until it was a firm wet powdery mixture. Hans had a long problem with swallowing pills and insisted he always had to chew them, no matter how horrible they tasted. He quickly poured drink in to his mouth. Swallowing the horrible taste of the pill and the much more pleasant taste of the coke down his throat. He placed the drink down and continued driving to the Polizei Headquarters. In a matter of minutes through downtown Berlin traffic, he reached the destination and hopped out of the vehicle. He proceeded to walk to the rear of the vehicle. He grabbed a tape-recorder from the trunk and put it in a concealed pocket in his uniform, looking calm towards the Polizei enlisted man who was smiling back towards Hans. He shut the trunk and walked back to the vehicle, turning it off and grabbing his drink. He shut the door of his vehicle while looking up towards the Polizei headquarters. He proceeded to walk towards the building. The Polizei enlisted man firmly stuck his arm up and said, "Heil Hitler - Sturmbannfuhrer!" and Hans nodded back towards the young officer. Hans still felt not comfortable giving the nazi salute after the atrocities he witnessed back at Auschwitz unless it was a superior officer he was addressing. He walked through the lobby and walked to the nearby elevator. He pressed a button on the keypad. The elevator arrived and Hans stepped in to it. He pressed the 2nd floor button and the elevator went up. Hans walked towards the interrogation room. Another young enlisted Polizei man was standing outside. He looked to the Sturmbannfuhrer and said, "I'll check and see if the detective will be accepting visitors." The enlisted man walked in to the soundproof interrogation room and said to Waltz, "Sir. We have Sturmbannfuhrer Dietrich from the SS here. Shall I allow him in?" and the Russian's eyes filled with horror and the enlisted Polizei man looked at the picture on the table and the prisoner and Waltz with a dumbfound look.

[Dosteovania]

Anna-Katrin sat in the driver's seat of her Mercedes. With very slow, deliberate, almost painful movements, she reached over and opened the glove box and proceeded to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. She tapped a cigarette out of the pack, clenched it between her teeth, and tried to light it. Her hands were shaking so badly that it took her three times before the cigarette finally lit.

Leaning back, she pulled in a deep lungful of smoke, her eyes closed. She held her breath for one beat, then two, three...feeling the nicotine rush to her head, ah, yes, there was that feeling!...and she exhaled the smoke out on an aggrieved sigh.

She examined her fingers. Blood was caked underneath her well-manicured fingernails. She took another puff of her cigarette as she felt the emotions rising up in her throat and threatening to choke her. She saw the blood in the snow...and herself standing there, powerless to stop it...

Goddammit, no. Not now. I can't deal with this shit right now. I can't let Weismann see how badly he's unnerved me. How DARE he mention Klaus!

She slammed the open palm of her left hand against the top of her steering wheel. She winced at the sharp pain, but it quickly grounded her and brought her back from her melancholic thoughts. She took another drag of her cigarette and grabbed the mike of her in-car radio. She keyed up the mike and spoke into it, her voice crisp and clear.

"Station 1, Station 1, this is U.C. (unit commander), over?"

"I read you loud and clear, ma'am," the radio operator said. "What can I do for you, over?"

"Get on the horn and get all available units out to the airport. Have them report to Leutnant von Greiff. He'll brief them on what needs to be done. Over."

"Yes, ma'am. Over and out."

She saw von Greiff walking towards her car. She tossed down the mike, got out of her car, and leaned against the door. She took one last drag of her cigarette and flicked it away. She heard the call for all units go out across the radio.

"Arnhem, I'm leaving you in charge here," she said to Leutnant von Greiff. "I just called for all available units to be dispatched here to the airport. We're going to take Weismann at face-value for this one...all incoming flights from suspect countries that arrived on or near the time of the incident are to be searched and the passengers and crews questioned. If we have to ground planes or go as far as closing down the airport, we will. I don't know HOW, in order to keep things quiet, but we will do it. You know what we're looking for, my friend. Let's see what you can come up with."

"Yes, ma'am," von Greiff saluted her and walked off.

Anna-Katrin took a deep breath and slid into her car.

"Let's see what the hell Weismann's up to," she said as she started the car. "Time to get back to headquarters and see how Dietrich's faring."

[Barapam]

Martin didn't know what to think about Vladimir's story. Soviet lies... or the truth? He almost forgot about his cigarette, until it nearly burned his lips. He ashed it, and took another one right away, despite his intentions to quit. Right now he needed it.

There had been similar rumors around already during the war, and Waltz had seen cruelties from both sides. Commited some too, perhaps. The Eastern front had been a hell. Everyone, at least in his generation, knew that the SS had slaughtered civilians, including Jews, behind the front. At the time,the propaganda had disguised it as retribution against partisans who had massacred Germans, but nowadays it was rarely spoken of at all. But what Vladimir talked about was different. Entire camps dedicated to mass killings. Horrendous. Well, the Communists had their Gulag archipelago, that was well known, and why would the Nazis be any better? Vladimir's story wasn't too implausible, even though Martin didn't believe him. Or did he? He had at least succeded in making him doubt, but that could just as well be a trick.

There was also another thing that bugged him. The Russkie hadn't outright accused Sturmbannführer Dietrich of anything, just that he didn't do anything to stop it. If that was true, then Leutnant Waltz was in the same boat. If Dietrich's inaction alone made him a criminal, then Martin was guilty as well, or at least not innocent. He had never protested against Hitler, too concerned about his own neck as he had been. As a boy and a young man grown up in the Weimar Republic, he might have cracked a few anti-Nazi jokes or objected to their politics when among friends, and the regime was still new, but since then he had kept his mouth shut.

What bugged him the most, was that he couldn't trust Vladimir. It had been one thing if he knew that he told the truth, it would almost have been a relief in a way. To finally know for sure. But in his position, he had every reason to lie.

Someone opened the door. An enlisted Polizeimann. Martin listened to him, and nodded. "Let him in." What a coincidence. As if fate itself somehow was involved. He glanced at Keller to see his reaction, and was glad to see that he kept his mask, even if he was a little paler than usual.

"Speaking of the devil. This will be interesting."

[Russian-America]

Hans walked in to the interrogation room and noticed Aldric Fontaine and Martin Waltz and the photo on the table. He quickly picked the photo and slid it away and said "Do not mind this photo." while a nervous look came across his face. He quickly scratched his chin and looked down Aldric Fontaine with a expression of trying to remember him. Hans suddenly said outright, "Aldric. I need to see your arm. Looks like you may got injured there." even thought there was no markings of a injury. Aldric refused and said, "No. You can't." and Hans walked over and said, "Obstructing a investigation is a crime in the Reich. Not sure about Soviet Union or Vichy France." while pulling his baton out from his duty belt. Hans quickly pulled up the mans sleeve. Aldric tried to prevent it but Hans swatted at his hand with the baton, clearly missing on purpose. Hans took a good look at the arm looking for any camp tattoos. Hans thought, "No camp tattoo... yet, a photo of me at Auschwitz. Tattoos don't disappear over time only obviously getting wrinkly on the skin." Hans would be told by Waltz (assuming) what Aldric said. Hans nodded and looked at Waltz while carefully making sure no one was listening besides him and Waltz. Hans walked to Waltz and whispered in to his ear. "This man can't be from a camp. He has no tattoos and if his story matches up then obviously he wasn't a Jew and a Red Army soldier as we only imprisoned Red Army soldiers and that was at no camp known as Auschwitz. That was at a prisoner of war camp where tattooing for ID purposes was common. We deported all the Jews to Canada and Sweden and Switzerland and Spain and Italy aswell." Hans obviously intended by his whispering to Waltz that he meant that something was up with Mr. Fontaines story while not mentioning anything about the Holocaust. Hans pressed a buzzer on the wall and said in to the buzzer, "Get me the prison-records and face measurement tools. Prison records from A-15910 to A-15999 on Far-Eastern prisoner camps including Camp Agel." Camp Agel being the code name for Auschwitz.

[New Decius]

Hans walked in to the interrogation room and noticed Aldric Fontaine and Martin Waltz and the photo on the table. He quickly picked the photo and slid it away and said "Do not mind this photo." while a nervous look came across his face. He quickly scratched his chin and looked down Aldric Fontaine with a expression of trying to remember him. Hans suddenly said outright, "Aldric. I need to see your arm. Looks like you may got injured there." even thought there was no markings of a injury. Aldric refused and said, "No. You can't." and Hans walked over and said, "Obstructing a investigation is a crime in the Reich. Not sure about Soviet Union or Vichy France." while pulling his baton out from his duty belt. Hans quickly pulled up the mans sleeve. Aldric tried to prevent it but Hans swatted at his hand with the baton, clearly missing on purpose. Hans took a good look at the arm looking for any camp tattoos. Hans thought, "No camp tattoo... yet, a photo of me at Auschwitz. Tattoos don't disappear over time only obviously getting wrinkly on the skin." Hans would be told by Waltz (assuming) what Aldric said. Hans nodded and looked at Waltz while carefully making sure no one was listening besides him and Waltz. Hans walked to Waltz and whispered in to his ear. "This man can't be from a camp. He has no tattoos and if his story matches up then obviously he wasn't a Jew and a Red Army soldier as we only imprisoned Red Army soldiers and that was at no camp known as Auschwitz. That was at a prisoner of war camp where tattooing for ID purposes was common. We deported all the Jews to Canada and Sweden and Switzerland and Spain and Italy aswell." Hans obviously intended by his whispering to Waltz that he meant that something was up with Mr. Fontaines story while not mentioning anything about the Holocaust. Hans pressed a buzzer on the wall and said in to the buzzer, "Get me the prison-records and face measurement tools. Prison records from A-15910 to A-15999 on Far-Eastern prisoner camps including Camp Agel." Camp Agel being the code name for Auschwitz.

At that moment word came down that Weismann arrived and wished to see the prisoner. He was admitted and noted the position of the room and arrived just in time to hear Hans talk of Camp Agel. That made the fifty-seven year old SS veteran stop where he was as his eyes widened. He knew what that was the codename to, oh he knew. He still remembered the horrid stench of the furnaces and the prisoners.

For a short time, Weismann had been posted to Auschwitz and he knew its true nature, the only reason he lived to know of it was his fast rise through the ranks. He grasped the wall for a moment to steady himself but made it appear as if his temporary lapse was entirely due to his age and life experiences. He looked up at Hans and motioned to pull him to the side and whisper to him. Weismann made sure neither Waltz nor the prisoner could hear what he was saying to Hans. This was a matter of the highest security after all.

"Why is there mention of a location that is at the highest of national security? All mention of that-" He lowered his voice. "-that place is to be restricted to certain levels of the SS and the government. Something like this cannot resurface so close to our Fuhrer's birthday. Find out how much he actually knows amongst true facts and how much he knows from rumors." Weismann then stepped back and motioned for Hans to continue.

[Barapam]

Somewhat ironically, his superior's assurances only caused Waltz to be more suspicious and curious. Things didn't quite add up, his instincts told him, and that feeling was enhanced when Weismann entered and whispered something to Dietrich. It could of course be something completely unrelated, but Martin doubted that. He doubted many things in this moment. Something was cooking for sure, and the stank of rat filled the entire kitchen.

The lieutenant looked at the two men of higher ranks and cleared his throat, while nonchalantly holding his cigarette. "Now if you excuse, I would like to continue with the interrogation."

If the man had told the truth about the death camps, he needed to know more. If he lied, or half-lied, then he needed to know that too. And regardless of that, he had still admitted to be on a mission to kill Sturmbannführer Hans Dietrich, and was also accountable for the shoot-out back at the car rental. Crimes he still had to pay for, even if (and Martin wasn't so sure that really was the case) he had once been a victim himself.

[Dosteovania]

The moment she arrived back at the station, Anna-Katrin headed to the interrogation room. She walked into the outer room and dismissed the officers standing guard.

"Everyone out. NOW."

The two officers scrambled to do her bidding, not wanting to get on her bad side. They could both tell that she was on edge and neither of them wanted to suffer from pissing her off.

Anna-Katrin strode over to the one-way mirror and looked in.

Goddammit. Weismann beat me here.

She saw Weismann pull Dietrich to the side and whisper something into his ear. She saw the sudden look of surprise on Dietrich's face as whatever Weismann had said sunk in.

Just then, the door opened, and another officer came in, carrying a box of file folders and assorted tools. He saw Anna-Katrin standing there and stopped, a confused look on his face. She reached out and took the box from him.

"Thank you, Leutnant. That will be all. You're dismissed." Her tone brooked no argument, and the Leutnant made a hasty retreat.

Anna-Katrin put the box down on the table against the far wall. She reached in a pulled out a couple of the file folders.

CAMP AGEL -TOP SECRET was stamped in bold black letters across the front. Anna-Katrin's eyes widened.

"No," she whispered. The blood drained from her face. "No, no, no, NO. This can't be happening again."

She shakily pulled her pack of cigarettes and her lighter from her pocket as she sat down heavily on the chair next to the table. She had completely forgotten all that was going on in the interrogation room...every thought was focused on the files in the box.

She lit her cigarette, took a deep draw on it, her head dropping, closing her eyes, willing the memories that had suddenly, violently resurfaced to get out of her head...

[New Decius]

The moment she arrived back at the station, Anna-Katrin headed to the interrogation room. She walked into the outer room and dismissed the officers standing guard.

"Everyone out. NOW."

The two officers scrambled to do her bidding, not wanting to get on her bad side. They could both tell that she was on edge and neither of them wanted to suffer from pissing her off.

Anna-Katrin strode over to the one-way mirror and looked in.

Goddammit. Weismann beat me here.

She saw Weismann pull Dietrich to the side and whisper something into his ear. She saw the sudden look of surprise on Dietrich's face as whatever Weismann had said sunk in.

Just then, the door opened, and another officer came in, carrying a box of file folders and assorted tools. He saw Anna-Katrin standing there and stopped, a confused look on his face. She reached out and took the box from him.

"Thank you, Leutnant. That will be all. You're dismissed." Her tone brooked no argument, and the Leutnant made a hasty retreat.

Anna-Katrin put the box down on the table against the far wall. She reached in a pulled out a couple of the file folders.

CAMP AGEL -TOP SECRET was stamped in bold black letters across the front. Anna-Katrin's eyes widened.

"No," she whispered. The blood drained from her face. "No, no, no, NO. This can't be happening again."

She shakily pulled her pack of cigarettes and her lighter from her pocket as she sat down heavily on the chair next to the table. She had completely forgotten all that was going on in the interrogation room...every thought was focused on the files in the box.

She lit her cigarette, took a deep draw on it, her head dropping, closing her eyes, willing the memories that had suddenly, violently resurfaced to get out of her head...

Weismann exited the interrogation room to the outer chamber and stood beside Anna-Katrin with a frown upon his face. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as if hoping this was all some terrible dream. "When I was stationed on the Eastern Front, in 48, I was temporarily assigned to that horrid place they dared call a camp. I do not like to recall the details. I do not want the world to have to know such horror, specifically I would like to prevent my son having to live in a world where such matters are everyday conversation." He took his glasses off and used his handkerchief to clean them.

He turned to Anna and there was no waver in the determination in his voice or feature. "Listen, I realize you may not like me, you more than likely despise me for that matter." He placed his hands on the table and gestured to the file. "But I believe we both know the ramifications this could cause if it came out. And I don't think either of us want's to have our career's dragged through the mud or the career's of our loved ones dragged through the dirt and grime with us." He picked up the file and flipped through it before tossing it beside Anna.

"I want this closed fast. I will refrain from informing the Reichsfuhrer at this time so as not to spread a panic and because we certainly don't want the Gestapo to waltz in here and start 'silencing' anyone connected to this case." He grabbed a nearby piece of paper and began to write something out on it before signing his signature on the bottom. "Here, this should help. I am authorizing you with Grade A Security Clearance and Immunity for this investigation. No matter how deep you dig, you'll be clear from political or legal harm. It also clears you to use any means necessary to extract information from this potential terrorist." Then Weismann took a cigar from his coat and lit it. "If anyone has issues with this order, tell them to contact my office and we'll watch their resolve crumble. I am not exactly known for being lenient to those who question my orders." It was true, Weismann had once posted a man to Stalingrad of all places for questioning his decision on an investigation which he turned out to be right on.

"This man apparently claims to be one of the inmates at the camp. I have not been here long enough to know if I believe him." He took a long drag from his cigar and gave a sigh. "What I do know is I have seen the horrors of Moscow, Stalingrad, Warsaw, Riga, Leningrad, Kursk, and Kiev, the slaughter's of soldier. And still it did not compare to that wretched place." He gestured towards the note he had signed. "If anyone from the Gestapo, Orpo, or SS questions your actions in this case, simply flash that note and they will be unable to act, it places yourself and the investigation under the authority and immunity of the office of Reichsfuhrer Heydrich. It will protect you from anything short of treason. That does not translate as me telling you to bust down the doors of random citizens and take extreme measures, but-" Weismann turned to look at the man in the room beyond. "I want this closed and fast."

I, Adolf K. Weismann, SS-Oberst-Gruppenführer serving at the pleasure of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, do hereby decree that whomsoever is the bearer of this note is operating under the authority of the office of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, and acting for the good and greater security of the Reich. The bearer of this note and those accompanying are granted the full immunity as awarded to those serving at the pleasure of the office of the SS-Reichsfuhrer. Any whom have issuance with this order may bring it up to myself directly at my office at the Hauptquartier der SS.

Adolf K. Weismann

[Russian-America]

Hans stepped out of the interrogation room letting the door shut behind him and approached the two high-ranked officials. He stopped infront of them, still holding his Coca-cola bottle. He took a sip of it and quickly swallowed it. He begun speaking in a low, but increasing tone. "This man is not from Camp Agel. He bears no tattoos. He knows about the purpose of Camp Agel. Extermination, cremation, slave labors while being there while not being from the camp in question. If he was in the camp. He would surely have a tattoo of sorts but obviously he doesn't as I inspected his arm. I know for a damn fact that he wasn't there. He knows my name and now my face. He surely had to meet me somewhere. Hell, everyone was walking skeletons there. Between us three. I was a camp doctor there. Seen some shit, been through some shit. I used to work with a doctor named Mengele. Crazy guy. He'd always have damn Danube Waltz playing loud as hell, non-stop just like the college kids have that shit called rock playing. He had a fascination with twins or so was I told by my assistant, Karla Hemhurt." while remembering the times he was ordered to preside over selection process of Auschwitz. Unlike the others, he had been far more lenient on arrivals sending the sick to work and children to work while sending convicted criminals to the gas-chamber immediately. He even went as far to help some escape.


AUSCHWITZ, POLAND, 1956

Hans sat in the dull room playing cards. Across the table was Josef Mengele. Mengele quickly said "Hans, your turn." and Hans rolled his eyes and put down his cards. "Full-house. Looks like I got you beat." and Mengele grinned. Hans rubbed his head while the Blue Danube Waltz played for the 4th time on the sterograph. Hans said, "Can we play a different game? This american poker or whatever you called it is incredibly boring, Josef." and Mengele scratched his chin and said, "Suggest a game then." and Hans said, "I do not know. I rarely play games." before the door was just about kicked open by a SS Enlisted who looked more pissed off then Hans did. However, Hans didn't really want to upset Mengele as he considered him a close friend despite his oddities. The SS-Enlisted man grudgingly called out with a direct stare to Hans, "Train arriving! Leutnant Dietrich report to the front." and Hans, relieved that he didn't have to hear the Blue Danube Waltz for the fifth damn time quickly took his SS-cap and slid it on and walked out while Mengele sulked in his chair but then looked with glee to the approaching train.

--

BACK TO PRESENT TIME IN RP

Hans quickly shook back to reality and took another sip of his drink and waited for his superiors to reply to what he had to say.

[Dosteovania]

Weismann exited the interrogation room to the outer chamber and stood beside Anna-Katrin with a frown upon his face. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as if hoping this was all some terrible dream. "When I was stationed on the Eastern Front, in 48, I was temporarily assigned to that horrid place they dared call a camp. I do not like to recall the details. I do not want the world to have to know such horror, specifically I would like to prevent my son having to live in a world where such matters are everyday conversation." He took his glasses off and used his handkerchief to clean them.

He turned to Anna and there was no waver in the determination in his voice or feature. "Listen, I realize you may not like me, you more than likely despise me for that matter." He placed his hands on the table and gestured to the file. "But I believe we both know the ramifications this could cause if it came out. And I don't think either of us want's to have our career's dragged through the mud or the career's of our loved ones dragged through the dirt and grime with us." He picked up the file and flipped through it before tossing it beside Anna.

"I want this closed fast. I will refrain from informing the Reichsfuhrer at this time so as not to spread a panic and because we certainly don't want the Gestapo to waltz in here and start 'silencing' anyone connected to this case." He grabbed a nearby piece of paper and began to write something out on it before signing his signature on the bottom. "Here, this should help. I am authorizing you with Grade A Security Clearance and Immunity for this investigation. No matter how deep you dig, you'll be clear from political or legal harm. It also clears you to use any means necessary to extract information from this potential terrorist." Then Weismann took a cigar from his coat and lit it. "If anyone has issues with this order, tell them to contact my office and we'll watch their resolve crumble. I am not exactly known for being lenient to those who question my orders." It was true, Weismann had once posted a man to Stalingrad of all places for questioning his decision on an investigation which he turned out to be right on.

"This man apparently claims to be one of the inmates at the camp. I have not been here long enough to know if I believe him." He took a long drag from his cigar and gave a sigh. "What I do know is I have seen the horrors of Moscow, Stalingrad, Warsaw, Riga, Leningrad, Kursk, and Kiev, the slaughter's of soldier. And still it did not compare to that wretched place." He gestured towards the note he had signed. "If anyone from the Gestapo, Orpo, or SS questions your actions in this case, simply flash that note and they will be unable to act, it places yourself and the investigation under the authority and immunity of the office of Reichsfuhrer Heydrich. It will protect you from anything short of treason. That does not translate as me telling you to bust down the doors of random citizens and take extreme measures, but-" Weismann turned to look at the man in the room beyond. "I want this closed and fast."

I, Adolf K. Weismann, SS-Oberst-Gruppenführer serving at the pleasure of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, do hereby decree that whomsoever is the bearer of this note is operating under the authority of the office of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, and acting for the good and greater security of the Reich. The bearer of this note and those accompanying are granted the full immunity as awarded to those serving at the pleasure of the office of the SS-Reichsfuhrer. Any whom have issuance with this order may bring it up to myself directly at my office at the Hauptquartier der SS.

Adolf K. Weismann

Anna-Katrin looked up as Weismann came out of the interrogation room. She took another drag off of her cigarette and then stubbed it out in the ashtray before quickly lighting up another. Her hands were shaking, and she was visibly pale. Her voice was trembling when she finally spoke.

"In March of 1942, I was 15 years old. My uncle was stationed at Auschwitz II-Birkenau. As a member of the Hitlerjugend, I was asked, along with some other kids in my group, to go help out for a few weeks. We thought we'd have a grand old time...away from home, free run of the place. We were naive and stupid and had no idea what we were in for...we'd all seen the Theresienstadt films and thought the camps were nice little vacation spots for the Jews."

She paused and took a long drag off her cigarette. The smoke swirled around her face as she exhaled. She closed her eyes and continued, her voice soft.

"I was there when the first gassings took place. I was one who helped to take the prisoners' belongs from the undressing rooms."

Her head dropped down. She took one last drag off her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray, and then looked up at Weismann. Tears glittered in her blue eyes. Pain was written across her face.

"The screams. Mein Gott, the screams. The pounding on the door. Mein Gott, mein Gott," her voice trailed off. "Herr Oberst-Gruppenführer, to this day, I can still hear them screaming."

She picked up the piece of paper on which Weismann had written up his authorization. She studied it for a second, nodded, and folded it up before tucking it into an inner pocket in her tailor-made black tunic. She looked back up at Weismann as she lit yet another cigarette. Her hands were a bit more steady. Her deep blue eyes bored into his.

"It's not that I don't like you, Oberst-Gruppenführer. It's your office that disgusts me. And Heydrich, as well. And if you ever say anything, you know I'll deny it," she said with a little laugh. "When I get back to my office, I will write up a list of men that will be participating in this investigation. We want to keep things close to home this time around. When you get that list, I want you to write up an authorization for every last man. I want there to be NO CHANCE of any screw ups with the bloody Gestapo. I want this gone as much as you do. Believe me, I want it ALL GONE. I want the screaming to stop."

She took a drag off her cigarette and gave him a small, tight smile.

"How about I make up for earlier? A drink later, perhaps..."

Hans stepped out of the interrogation room letting the door shut behind him and approached the two high-ranked officials. He stopped infront of them, still holding his Coca-cola bottle. He took a sip of it and quickly swallowed it. He begun speaking in a low, but increasing tone. "This man is not from Camp Agel. He bears no tattoos. He knows about the purpose of Camp Agel. Extermination, cremation, slave labors while being there while not being from the camp in question. If he was in the camp. He would surely have a tattoo of sorts but obviously he doesn't as I inspected his arm. I know for a damn fact that he wasn't there. He knows my name and now my face. He surely had to meet me somewhere. Hell, everyone was walking skeletons there. Between us three. I was a camp doctor there. Seen some shit, been through some shit. I used to work with a doctor named Mengele. Crazy guy. He'd always have damn Danube Waltz playing loud as hell, non-stop just like the college kids have that shit called rock playing. He had a fascination with twins or so was I told by my assistant, Karla Hemhurt." while remembering the times he was ordered to preside over selection process of Auschwitz. Unlike the others, he had been far more lenient on arrivals sending the sick to work and children to work while sending convicted criminals to the gas-chamber immediately. He even went as far to help some escape.

BACK TO PRESENT TIME IN RP

Hans quickly shook back to reality and took another sip of his drink and waited for his superiors to reply to what he had to say.

Anna-Katrin cut off mid-sentence as Hans came out the door and started speaking. When he was through, all she could do was stare at him incredulously. She felt herself spinning out of control.

Jesus Christ, that makes THREE of us! How many more in this department are wrapped up in this?

"Hans, get back in that interrogation room and make that son of a bitch talk. We need to know what the hell he knows, and we need to know NOW. We don't have any time to waste, do you understand? I don't care how you do it. You are authorized to use any means necessary," her voice was clipped and tight.

"ANY. MEANS. NECESSARY."

[New Decius]

Weismann exited the interrogation room to the outer chamber and stood beside Anna-Katrin with a frown upon his face. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, as if hoping this was all some terrible dream. "When I was stationed on the Eastern Front, in 48, I was temporarily assigned to that horrid place they dared call a camp. I do not like to recall the details. I do not want the world to have to know such horror, specifically I would like to prevent my son having to live in a world where such matters are everyday conversation." He took his glasses off and used his handkerchief to clean them.

He turned to Anna and there was no waver in the determination in his voice or feature. "Listen, I realize you may not like me, you more than likely despise me for that matter." He placed his hands on the table and gestured to the file. "But I believe we both know the ramifications this could cause if it came out. And I don't think either of us want's to have our career's dragged through the mud or the career's of our loved ones dragged through the dirt and grime with us." He picked up the file and flipped through it before tossing it beside Anna.

"I want this closed fast. I will refrain from informing the Reichsfuhrer at this time so as not to spread a panic and because we certainly don't want the Gestapo to waltz in here and start 'silencing' anyone connected to this case." He grabbed a nearby piece of paper and began to write something out on it before signing his signature on the bottom. "Here, this should help. I am authorizing you with Grade A Security Clearance and Immunity for this investigation. No matter how deep you dig, you'll be clear from political or legal harm. It also clears you to use any means necessary to extract information from this potential terrorist." Then Weismann took a cigar from his coat and lit it. "If anyone has issues with this order, tell them to contact my office and we'll watch their resolve crumble. I am not exactly known for being lenient to those who question my orders." It was true, Weismann had once posted a man to Stalingrad of all places for questioning his decision on an investigation which he turned out to be right on.

"This man apparently claims to be one of the inmates at the camp. I have not been here long enough to know if I believe him." He took a long drag from his cigar and gave a sigh. "What I do know is I have seen the horrors of Moscow, Stalingrad, Warsaw, Riga, Leningrad, Kursk, and Kiev, the slaughter's of soldier. And still it did not compare to that wretched place." He gestured towards the note he had signed. "If anyone from the Gestapo, Orpo, or SS questions your actions in this case, simply flash that note and they will be unable to act, it places yourself and the investigation under the authority and immunity of the office of Reichsfuhrer Heydrich. It will protect you from anything short of treason. That does not translate as me telling you to bust down the doors of random citizens and take extreme measures, but-" Weismann turned to look at the man in the room beyond. "I want this closed and fast."

I, Adolf K. Weismann, SS-Oberst-Gruppenführer serving at the pleasure of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, do hereby decree that whomsoever is the bearer of this note is operating under the authority of the office of His Excellency, SS-Reichsfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, and acting for the good and greater security of the Reich. The bearer of this note and those accompanying are granted the full immunity as awarded to those serving at the pleasure of the office of the SS-Reichsfuhrer. Any whom have issuance with this order may bring it up to myself directly at my office at the Hauptquartier der SS.

Adolf K. Weismann

Anna-Katrin looked up as Weismann came out of the interrogation room. She took another drag off of her cigarette and then stubbed it out in the ashtray before quickly lighting up another. Her hands were shaking, and she was visibly pale. Her voice was trembling when she finally spoke.

"In March of 1942, I was 15 years old. My uncle was stationed at Auschwitz II-Birkenau. As a member of the Hitlerjugend, I was asked, along with some other kids in my group, to go help out for a few weeks. We thought we'd have a grand old time...away from home, free run of the place. We were naive and stupid and had no idea what we were in for...we'd all seen the Theresienstadt films and thought the camps were nice little vacation spots for the Jews."

She paused and took a long drag off her cigarette. The smoke swirled around her face as she exhaled. She closed her eyes and continued, her voice soft.

"I was there when the first gassings took place. I was one who helped to take the prisoners' belongs from the undressing rooms."

Her head dropped down. She took one last drag off her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray, and then looked up at Weismann. Tears glittered in her blue eyes. Pain was written across her face.

"The screams. Mein Gott, the screams. The pounding on the door. Mein Gott, mein Gott," her voice trailed off. "Herr Oberst-Gruppenführer, to this day, I can still hear them screaming."

She picked up the piece of paper on which Weismann had written up his authorization. She studied it for a second, nodded, and folded it up before tucking it into an inner pocket in her tailor-made black tunic. She looked back up at Weismann as she lit yet another cigarette. Her hands were a bit more steady. Her deep blue eyes bored into his.

"It's not that I don't like you, Oberst-Gruppenführer. It's your office that disgusts me. And Heydrich, as well. And if you ever say anything, you know I'll deny it," she said with a little laugh. "When I get back to my office, I will write up a list of men that will be participating in this investigation. We want to keep things close to home this time around. When you get that list, I want you to write up an authorization for every last man. I want there to be NO CHANCE of any screw ups with the bloody Gestapo. I want this gone as much as you do. Believe me, I want it ALL GONE. I want the screaming to stop."

She took a drag off her cigarette and gave him a small, tight smile.

"How about I make up for earlier? A drink later, perhaps..."

Hans stepped out of the interrogation room letting the door shut behind him and approached the two high-ranked officials. He stopped infront of them, still holding his Coca-cola bottle. He took a sip of it and quickly swallowed it. He begun speaking in a low, but increasing tone. "This man is not from Camp Agel. He bears no tattoos. He knows about the purpose of Camp Agel. Extermination, cremation, slave labors while being there while not being from the camp in question. If he was in the camp. He would surely have a tattoo of sorts but obviously he doesn't as I inspected his arm. I know for a damn fact that he wasn't there. He knows my name and now my face. He surely had to meet me somewhere. Hell, everyone was walking skeletons there. Between us three. I was a camp doctor there. Seen some shit, been through some shit. I used to work with a doctor named Mengele. Crazy guy. He'd always have damn Danube Waltz playing loud as hell, non-stop just like the college kids have that shit called rock playing. He had a fascination with twins or so was I told by my assistant, Karla Hemhurt." while remembering the times he was ordered to preside over selection process of Auschwitz. Unlike the others, he had been far more lenient on arrivals sending the sick to work and children to work while sending convicted criminals to the gas-chamber immediately. He even went as far to help some escape.

BACK TO PRESENT TIME IN RP

Hans quickly shook back to reality and took another sip of his drink and waited for his superiors to reply to what he had to say.

Anna-Katrin cut off mid-sentence as Hans came out the door and started speaking. When he was through, all she could do was stare at him incredulously. She felt herself spinning out of control.

Jesus Christ, that makes THREE of us! How many more in this department are wrapped up in this?

"Hans, get back in that interrogation room and make that son of a bitch talk. We need to know what the hell he knows, and we need to know NOW. We don't have any time to waste, do you understand? I don't care how you do it. You are authorized to use any means necessary," her voice was clipped and tight.

"ANY. MEANS. NECESSARY."

Weismann chipped in as well as he stepped up and gave his two bit. "Cut off his fingers if that's what it takes." Then an idea struck him on an age-old interrogation tactic that had never failed in the past. It was a long-shot but it just might work. "Try the old 'we know everything trick' on him. Belittle him, make him believe we already know every detail of his scheme, that it was idiotically simple to begin with, psychological warfare in practice. He may end up letting something drop. And if not.." He picked up a nearby hammer and mimed smashing it against his knee. "Introduce his knee to a little thing we call pain."

He then took out the files from the box and began looking through them. Weismann preferred good old fashioned police work to any other method. It was still the most effective and, in most cases, the most satisfying at a case's conclusion. "Let's see here. No tattoo is a sign that he wasn't an inmate but there is also the possibility he could have had it taken off. Still there would be a lasting impression and where could he go to get it removed safely and professionally anyhow without being found out." He gave a shudder at his next thought. "Question is how he found out specific details about the reality of the camp. The films obviously told the public that the Jew's were sent to camps to be separated from the populace, yet no real specific details were released. Most of the personnel at Agil in specific were transferred to locations where nothing could be easily revealed, such as North Africa or the Eastern Front." He took off his hat and sat down as he felt they could be there a while.

"Let us try to establish a base before we leave to set the wheels in motion. Now, he doesn't appear very old, not even middle-aged. Likely age is between mid-twenties and early-thirties. That would put his birth, between the start of the war and the failed invasion of Normandy. Best bet would be to lengthen the scale as far back as 1936 and either way that still leaves him as a child by the time of the camp being opened." Weismann checked security detail records for the camp in its first decade and combined it with his own knowledge. "Going ahead as far as 1946, the camp was still in public eye to a degree with the Hitlerjugend trips and the film crews. As the front got farther and farther away from Poland, security tightened." He stubbed out his cigar and focused on the documents. "When I was first posted to the rear echelons in 1947 for anti-partisan activity, many of these groups were still whispering about the camp's." Then he made a realization.

"This man could possibly be a child of a partisan from that decade hence his knowledge of the camps. Though normally the relatives of partisan members were executed to make an example." He raised an eyebrow as he came across the document detailing his being posted to Auschwitz. "In July of 1948, I was posted to Camp Agil to hunt a mole who was getting inmates out. By that time, no more screaming, they had made the chambers sound proof. No mail was allowed in or out and by that point the visits had stopped." He juggled the numbers in his head. "By the scale already laid out, this man would be just starting adolescence at that time. Still too young." Weismann scratched his chin in thought as he turned to Anna-Katrin.

"What do you make of it? From your point of view who is this man? Using what has been laid out and onhand observations, tell me his story. Targets a specific person whom served at a top secret post yet said person has no memory of ever meeting his would be killer, able to switch languages, falsified identification papers."

[Dosteovania]

Weismann chipped in as well as he stepped up and gave his two bit. "Cut off his fingers if that's what it takes." Then an idea struck him on an age-old interrogation tactic that had never failed in the past. It was a long-shot but it just might work. "Try the old 'we know everything trick' on him. Belittle him, make him believe we already know every detail of his scheme, that it was idiotically simple to begin with, psychological warfare in practice. He may end up letting something drop. And if not.." He picked up a nearby hammer and mimed smashing it against his knee. "Introduce his knee to a little thing we call pain."

He then took out the files from the box and began looking through them. Weismann preferred good old fashioned police work to any other method. It was still the most effective and, in most cases, the most satisfying at a case's conclusion. "Let's see here. No tattoo is a sign that he wasn't an inmate but there is also the possibility he could have had it taken off. Still there would be a lasting impression and where could he go to get it removed safely and professionally anyhow without being found out." He gave a shudder at his next thought. "Question is how he found out specific details about the reality of the camp. The films obviously told the public that the Jew's were sent to camps to be separated from the populace, yet no real specific details were released. Most of the personnel at Agil in specific were transferred to locations where nothing could be easily revealed, such as North Africa or the Eastern Front." He took off his hat and sat down as he felt they could be there a while.

"Let us try to establish a base before we leave to set the wheels in motion. Now, he doesn't appear very old, not even middle-aged. Likely age is between mid-twenties and early-thirties. That would put his birth, between the start of the war and the failed invasion of Normandy. Best bet would be to lengthen the scale as far back as 1936 and either way that still leaves him as a child by the time of the camp being opened." Weismann checked security detail records for the camp in its first decade and combined it with his own knowledge. "Going ahead as far as 1946, the camp was still in public eye to a degree with the Hitlerjugend trips and the film crews. As the front got farther and farther away from Poland, security tightened." He stubbed out his cigar and focused on the documents. "When I was first posted to the rear echelons in 1947 for anti-partisan activity, many of these groups were still whispering about the camp's." Then he made a realization.

"This man could possibly be a child of a partisan from that decade hence his knowledge of the camps. Though normally the relatives of partisan members were executed to make an example." He raised an eyebrow as he came across the document detailing his being posted to Auschwitz. "In July of 1948, I was posted to Camp Agil to hunt a mole who was getting inmates out. By that time, no more screaming, they had made the chambers sound proof. No mail was allowed in or out and by that point the visits had stopped." He juggled the numbers in his head. "By the scale already laid out, this man would be just starting adolescence at that time. Still too young." Weismann scratched his chin in thought as he turned to Anna-Katrin.

"What do you make of it? From your point of view who is this man? Using what has been laid out and onhand observations, tell me his story. Targets a specific person whom served at a top secret post yet said person has no memory of ever meeting his would be killer, able to switch languages, falsified identification papers."

Anna-Katrin looked at Weismann, her eyes wide, like a deer caught in a car's headlights. A headache was suddenly pounding at her temples and she felt dizzy.

"I...I honestly don't know," she said. She lit another cigarette. Her pack was empty, and she crushed it in her hand before tossing it into a nearby wastebasket.

She mentally shook herself. Get with it, Bödeker. You're better than this shit. Pull yourself together!

"Ok, here's what I'm thinking. He's out for revenge. He said he escaped in the Fall of 1957. We need to go through these files and find out if that's true. You know how the SS is. The paperwork is always immaculate and detailed. Other than that, I really don't know," her voice trailed off. "I don't know."

She pulled a small tin out of her pants pocket. Popping it open, she shook two pills from it and snapped it shut. She slid it back into her pocket as she popped the pills into her mouth. Her head was throbbing, and she swallowed the pills dry. She stood up, felt the world tilt, and grabbed for the edge of the table.

"I'm...ok," she said, waving Dietrich away as he made a move to help her. "I'm just tired. I have some phone calls that I need to make. See if I can't find out anything else. If you gentlemen will both excuse me, I'm off to my office. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

She only managed two steps forward before her world spun crazily. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, her knees buckled, and she collapsed on the floor at Weismann's feet.

[New Decius]

Weismann chipped in as well as he stepped up and gave his two bit. "Cut off his fingers if that's what it takes." Then an idea struck him on an age-old interrogation tactic that had never failed in the past. It was a long-shot but it just might work. "Try the old 'we know everything trick' on him. Belittle him, make him believe we already know every detail of his scheme, that it was idiotically simple to begin with, psychological warfare in practice. He may end up letting something drop. And if not.." He picked up a nearby hammer and mimed smashing it against his knee. "Introduce his knee to a little thing we call pain."

He then took out the files from the box and began looking through them. Weismann preferred good old fashioned police work to any other method. It was still the most effective and, in most cases, the most satisfying at a case's conclusion. "Let's see here. No tattoo is a sign that he wasn't an inmate but there is also the possibility he could have had it taken off. Still there would be a lasting impression and where could he go to get it removed safely and professionally anyhow without being found out." He gave a shudder at his next thought. "Question is how he found out specific details about the reality of the camp. The films obviously told the public that the Jew's were sent to camps to be separated from the populace, yet no real specific details were released. Most of the personnel at Agil in specific were transferred to locations where nothing could be easily revealed, such as North Africa or the Eastern Front." He took off his hat and sat down as he felt they could be there a while.

"Let us try to establish a base before we leave to set the wheels in motion. Now, he doesn't appear very old, not even middle-aged. Likely age is between mid-twenties and early-thirties. That would put his birth, between the start of the war and the failed invasion of Normandy. Best bet would be to lengthen the scale as far back as 1936 and either way that still leaves him as a child by the time of the camp being opened." Weismann checked security detail records for the camp in its first decade and combined it with his own knowledge. "Going ahead as far as 1946, the camp was still in public eye to a degree with the Hitlerjugend trips and the film crews. As the front got farther and farther away from Poland, security tightened." He stubbed out his cigar and focused on the documents. "When I was first posted to the rear echelons in 1947 for anti-partisan activity, many of these groups were still whispering about the camp's." Then he made a realization.

"This man could possibly be a child of a partisan from that decade hence his knowledge of the camps. Though normally the relatives of partisan members were executed to make an example." He raised an eyebrow as he came across the document detailing his being posted to Auschwitz. "In July of 1948, I was posted to Camp Agil to hunt a mole who was getting inmates out. By that time, no more screaming, they had made the chambers sound proof. No mail was allowed in or out and by that point the visits had stopped." He juggled the numbers in his head. "By the scale already laid out, this man would be just starting adolescence at that time. Still too young." Weismann scratched his chin in thought as he turned to Anna-Katrin.

"What do you make of it? From your point of view who is this man? Using what has been laid out and onhand observations, tell me his story. Targets a specific person whom served at a top secret post yet said person has no memory of ever meeting his would be killer, able to switch languages, falsified identification papers."

Anna-Katrin looked at Weismann, her eyes wide, like a deer caught in a car's headlights. A headache was suddenly pounding at her temples and she felt dizzy.

"I...I honestly don't know," she said. She lit another cigarette. Her pack was empty, and she crushed it in her hand before tossing it into a nearby wastebasket.

She mentally shook herself. Get with it, Bödeker. You're better than this shit. Pull yourself together!

"Ok, here's what I'm thinking. He's out for revenge. He said he escaped in the Fall of 1957. We need to go through these files and find out if that's true. You know how the SS is. The paperwork is always immaculate and detailed. Other than that, I really don't know," her voice trailed off. "I don't know."

She pulled a small tin out of her pants pocket. Popping it open, she shook two pills from it and snapped it shut. She slid it back into her pocket as she popped the pills into her mouth. Her head was throbbing, and she swallowed the pills dry. She stood up, felt the world tilt, and grabbed for the edge of the table.

"I'm...ok," she said, waving Dietrich away as he made a move to help her. "I'm just tired. I have some phone calls that I need to make. See if I can't find out anything else. If you gentlemen with both excuse me, I'm off to my office. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

She only managed two steps forward before her world spun crazily. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, her knees buckled, and she collapsed on the floor at Weismann's feet.

Weismann knelt down and checked for a pulse and was relieved to find she still had one as he quickly turned to Gruber whom was nearby and gave out his orders. "Get her to hospital immediately and ensure she is treated right away. Schnell!" Gruber did as ordered and he, along with the Corporal standing guard outside the door, began to carry Anna outside to one of the cruisers to take her to the hospital. The moment she was in the back and Gruber and the Corporal were in the front, it sped off in the direction of the nearest hospital.

Weismann sighed as he looked around and decided to go back into the interrogation room, someone had to act as overseer here. Besides he had some questions for this man himself. He placed his cap back on his head and grasped the handle on the door. He took a deep breath and then entered the room.

As Weismann entered, he made sure to close the door in a completely calm manner and act as if nothing was wrong as he approached Martin and Hans and then looked down at the prisoner. "Sturmbannführer Dietrich. Are we absolutely sure this man is not Aldric Fontaine? If he is not then the call I just made to my counterpart in the Vichy Security Police is a grave mistake. It was a request to arrest and interrogate the relatives of one Aldric Fontaine, and it just so happens they had twelve relatives of one Vichy citizen known as Aldric Fontaine on record and are bringing them in now." He chuckled at that. "Knowing how the Vichy Security Police deal with companions of terrorists, well I doubt we'll be hearing from those twelve anymore." He then eyed the prisoner in a casual manner.

"Of course if your not Aldric Fontaine, you may have just sentenced a dozen innocent people to their death. Though if you were to tell us the truth then I might be compelled to call my counterpart in Vichy back and straighten the mess out. After all, we all know you are not an escapee so why don't you just drop the charade." In reality, there was no such call made to the head of the Vichy Security Police, but the prisoner didn't know that.

[Russian-America]

Hans returned to the interrogation room and looked at Waltz and Weismann. He knew what had to be done. Hans walked over to the man and started unclipping his assault-gear which he wore on his chest. Hans quickly looked on the assault-gear for any maker markings or serial numbers. "Bingo." Hans thought as he saw a Nazi eagle marking stamped on the back of the assault-gear which meant that the gear was made in Germany. He continued looking until he came across the Serial Number. He quickly realized this was SS-Gear. He threw it down on to the table keeping a cold-dead stare at the man. He pressed a buzzer in the room and a voice replied on the end. "Interrogation Command. What do you need?" and Hans quickly said, "I need equipment documents. Serial number SS465-106SK and fast." within minutes, a man came in and handed a document to Hans. He looked through the document and saw the previous serial number. "Hmm. Adolf Dirlegener?" and looked once again back to the man standing at the door. He quickly handed over the document and said, "Personal files on Adolf Dirlegener." and the man nodded while he went out to retrive them. He came back with the documents. He handed the document to Hans. Hans read the document which had a photo attached to the document. He held the photo up to "Aldric" and gasped while saying "Perfect match." and slid the document to Weissmann. Hans begun speaking once again, "No post to the Eastern Front. All in Vichy France as apart of Exchanges." and the prisoner suddenly broke down while crying. "It's true. It's me. I was contracted by Gauleiter Johann Wewelski to kill Hans Dietrich, some woman named Anna Bodeker... Weissmann for being posted to Auschwitz!" Hans filled with rage quickly stepped out and walked to the nearest phone. He picked up the phone and begun dialing to a disclosed number in Poland. A familiar voice spoke on the other end, "Standenfuhrer Mengele." and Hans quickly spoke, "I need a problem dealt with." and Mengele grinned and said, "Hans, Hans. It's been a while since I saw you. We should play Poker again. What is this problem you speak of, my old friend?" and Hans said, "It's a Gauleiter named Johann Wewelski. Don't worry about the fact he's a Gauleiter. We'll get it taken care of from Berlin." and Mengele grinned once again and said, "Could never stay out of trouble, Hans? I'll see what I can do. I'm supposed to be in Berlin in the coming hours. Where are you? I'll be up there and I'll bring my Poker set!" and Hans laughed, saying "Polizei Headquarters." and Mengele said, "Alright, see you soon then."


GAULEITER'S WEWELSKI RESIDENCE, WESTERN POLAND
A black SS car arrived outside the residence and out came four SS men in black uniforms, all carrying assault rifles or sub machine guns. They quickly approached the house while the unarmed commander knocked on the door. Wewelski opened the door in his Gauleiter uniform and looked towards the SS commander. the SS Commander quickly spoke, "I have a message for you." and Wewelski replied, "From who?" and the SS-Commander replied, "Hans Dietrich." and at the moment, SS police-officers in black uniforms rushed past the commander and quickly tackled the Gauleiter, their visorcaps going flying across the polished wood floor. They quickly cuffed him. One of the SS-Polizei members raised his rifle and shot down a Servant to the Gauleiter who was watching. Two took him out to a waiting vehicle after collecting their belongings from the floor. The rest of the troops searched the house and killed or arrested other people in the house while ransacking it and searching for any documents. SS-Polizei members finding proof of the order to kill the 3 SS-members without Berlin's approval gave way that this was a organized hit by the Ost-Government and the USSR, such treason was not unheard of but has never targeted those who worked at death-camps. They quickly cleared the scene but not before making it look like a house burglary.