He smiled, rather dryly. “And if we get trapped in here, we have tunnels that connect us to the underground, giving us a dozen options for escaping,” he added. “The Reich Council was determined to make sure it could remain in control, even during a nuclear war.”
“Oh,” Gudrun said. She looked at one of the operators. “What’s happening?”
“Let them work,” Horst told her, quietly.
“The war has begun,” Schulze said. He rose and strode over towards them, just as one of the phones started to ring. An operator picked it up and began speaking in a low voice, trying not to disturb the others. “We’ve had reports of enemy panzers crossing the border, missiles and long-range artillery strikes and a number of… incidents… at various military bases.”
Gudrun met his eyes. “Incidents?”
Schulze looked back at her. She felt her cheeks heat as he studied her outfit, yet she refused to look away. Maybe he would have been her father-in-law, if things had been different, but it no longer mattered. Their lives had taken very different paths.
Horst leaned forward. “Shootings, unless I miss my guess,” he said. “Some of their observers will have been told to go on the attack.”
“Correct,” Schulze said. He didn’t seem angry with Horst, something that puzzled Gudrun until she realised that Schulze must have been aware of the possibility long before they’d told him about Horst’s past. “We don’t have a full set of reports yet, but they’ve already hampered our ability to launch counterattacks.”
Gudrun paled. “Are we going to lose the war?”
“Early days yet,” Schulze said. He sounded as tired as she felt. “There’s no real danger here, at least at the moment; I suggest you take a bedroom and get some rest. We should have a better idea of what’s going on in a few hours.”
“I understand,” Gudrun said.
“Come on,” Horst said, gently. “I’ll take you to bed.”
Gudrun blushed as Schulze cleared his throat, then turned and walked back towards the waiting operator. Thank God that hadn’t slipped out during a council meeting. The old men would never have taken her seriously… those of them that didn’t already consider her too young, too female or too rebellious to be worth their time. She took one last look at the display – there were more red icons to the east – and then allowed Horst to lead her out the door and through a maze of corridors. If she hadn’t already known they were in a bunker, she wouldn’t have believed it. She’d expected concrete walls and dank smells, but the interior was designed to look surprisingly pleasant. The only downside were the complete lack of windows and the portraits of famous men lining the walls, ranging from Hitler himself to Himmler and Goering.
And Goering looks like a danger to shipping, she thought. The man had really been quite unpleasantly fat. Even a paid artist hadn’t been able to disguise his bulk. How did he even manage to walk around?
“Get some rest,” Horst ordered, once they reached her room. It was just as luxurious as the rest of the complex. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Gudrun pulled him into the room before he could escape. “Is there anything you can do here?”
“I doubt it,” Horst said. “There’s certainly no hope of making contact with the stay-behind cell.”
“Yeah,” Gudrun agreed. Horst had kept a sharp eye out for any more notes, but none had appeared. She closed the door and grinned at him. “You may as well come to bed with me.”
Horst blinked in shock. “But what about…?”
“Schulze knows,” Gudrun said, flatly. She took his arms and pulled him, firmly, towards the bed. “And right now I really find it hard to care about the others.”
“Ah, danger,” Horst said. “That turns you on.”
Gudrun snorted. “Horst?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
There had been no way Hauptsturmfuehrer Katharine Milch could have carried a radio with her, even though a handful of the refugees she’d joined as they made their trek westward had seemingly carried all of their possessions on their shoulders. They’d had them all confiscated as soon as they’d arrived in Berlin, before they’d been shown into a set of transit barracks that had clearly been designed for Untermenschen. Katherine had ignored the whining and moaning from her fellow inmates, concentrating instead on quietly picking up information from the guards and planning her escape. It hadn’t struck her as particularly difficult. The transit camp had been designed as a prison, but the refugees weren’t being treated as prisoners.
I got out of nastier prisons when I was a trainee, Katharine thought, as she heard the first cruise missiles flying over Berlin. Deep rumbling explosions followed moments later, telling her that it was time to kick off her blanket and leave the rest of the refugees behind. And now it’s time to leave.
She smiled, rather unpleasantly, as she headed for the door. There were always a pair of policemen on guard, both of whom were young enough to talk more than they should to a pretty face and a very tight shirt. Katherine didn’t mind; the more they looked at her chest, the less they looked at her face. She’d been taught a dozen simple ways to disguise herself – along with a whole series of skills that were rarely taught to eastern women, let alone western women – but the simplest tricks were always the best. She pushed the door open and glanced towards the guardpost. One of the policemen was clearly visible, while the other was out of sight. She hoped that meant he’d started the long walk around the transit barracks.
“You shouldn’t be out here, Fraulein,” the policeman said. He was desperately worried, so desperately worried that he barely even glanced at her chest. “The city is under attack.”
Katherine nodded. Flames were rising up in the distance, casting unpleasant flickers of light over Berlin. She’d been told that a number of cruise missiles would be launched, in the hopes of decapitating the provisional government, but there had been no way to be certain that they’d hit their targets. But it was more than enough to tell her that it was time to go.
“I’m scared,” she said, slipping closer. “I need comfort.”
The policeman hesitated, just for a second. It was long enough for Katherine to draw her pencil from her pocket – they hadn’t bothered to confiscate either her pencils or her notebooks – and ram it through his eye. He stumbled backwards, dead before he hit the ground. She took his pistol, glanced around for any sign of his partner, then hurried towards the open gate leading to the city. By the time the body was found, she’d be well on her way towards the rendezvous point.
And their record keeping is shoddy, she thought, as she walked onwards. They may not even know who they’re missing.
Chapter Fourteen
Near Warsaw, Germany Prime
13 September 1985
“It’s confirmed, sir. Bridge Seven has definitely fallen; Bridges Eight and Nine have come under heavy attack.”
Generalmajor Gunter Gath nodded, coolly. He’d never expected the bridges to hold out for more than a few minutes, although he had hoped that the defenders would be able to drop them into the water before it was too late. Trying to make a stand on the river bank would probably have cost him more than he cared to lose, in the opening hours of the war.