Gudrun nodded. Munich was the third or fourth largest city in the Reich, with well over a million citizens. A handful of records could be inserted into the files by the SS – which practically controlled the registry office – to create a convincing background, at least on paper, for Elfie Fruehauf and her husband. There would be no reason, she suspected, for anyone to remember them. They’d be average schoolchildren, average workers, average soldiers… even a careful check of the records wouldn’t turn up any red flags. It would take a thorough investigation to penetrate the cover and that would require more time than they had.
“We are running out of time,” Horst said. He looked at Gudrun. “They are demanding more and more details of your schedule.”
Gudrun shivered. Horst had made it clear, more than once, that the SS wanted her alive. It was a terrifying thought. She’d been arrested before, but then she’d just been an average citizen caught up in the middle of a riot. Now, they knew just how big a role she’d played in toppling the Reich Council. Karl Holliston wouldn’t just want her dead, she knew. He’d want her to suffer.
“So we grab the bitch after she returns from the next meeting and interrogate her,” her father said, curtly. “And we raid the bar at the same time.”
Horst shook his head. “There won’t be a direct connection between the bar and the commandos,” he said, flatly. “Taking out the bar will do nothing more than warn them we’re on to them.”
“They want to snatch my daughter,” her father snapped. “I’m not inclined to take chances!”
“If you snatch Elfie Fruehauf,” Horst said, “you will reveal that we know she’s a spy. And they will know that I put you on to her. Our chances of quietly isolating and destroying the commando team will go down sharply.”
“As well as make you a target,” Gudrun said, quietly.
Horst nodded. “The best we can hope for is having them think I’ve been arrested too,” he said. “But… at that point, they will probably decide they want me dead before I can talk.”
Gudrun shook her head. “Then we don’t want to blow your cover.”
“I feel that way,” Horst said, dryly.
“I’ve had the bar under quiet surveillance,” her father injected, sharply. “There are too many people coming and going for us to have any real hope of picking out their contact.”
“And if we raid the bar, the commando team will just pull back and get on with their mission,” Horst added. He looked at Gudrun. “You really need to stay in the Reichstag.”
Gudrun scowled. There was nothing she could do for the war effort, but do her best to boost morale. Visiting hospitals and speaking to the wounded, addressing civilians… helping families who had been blasted out of their homes by shellfire find new places to stay… it wasn’t much, yet it was the only thing she could do. Giving that up didn’t sit well with her, even if she was the only one affected. And if she didn’t visit the hospitals, would it suggest to the population that the provisional government no longer cared?
And if we lose the population, she thought, what happens to us then?
She felt her scowl deepen as her father and husband argued. The SS had been putting up posters everywhere, insisting that the provisional government was responsible for everything from the siege and shellfire to the atrocities the SS had committed as they swept west. And as conditions worsened within the city, people were starting to listen. Gudrun couldn’t help wondering just what would happen if the SS pledged to spare everyone, but the provisional government and its collaborators. She doubted the SS would keep its word – Berlin had been infected by the desire for freedom – yet she suspected it wouldn’t matter. Drowning men would clutch at straws to save their lives.
And what would I do, she asked herself, if my family was starving?
The thought tormented her for a long moment. There were few families in the Reich that didn’t have at least one person – a husband, a son, a brother – in the military. Gudrun’s brother, father and grandfather had all fought for the Reich. But now, almost every military-age male in Berlin who could be spared from their work was in the military, doing everything from fighting on the front lines to transporting weapons and equipment around the city. And everyone else was watching helplessly as their children slowly starved, if they weren’t killed by shellfire or mugged by one of the criminals who had started to prowl the streets, preying on innocent civilians. Their lives had gone downhill sharply…
…And for what?
“We need to draw this team out of hiding,” she said, interrupting their argument. “Don’t we?”
“They won’t show themselves on our terms,” Horst said, shortly. “Gudrun, I know how these people think.”
Gudrun smiled. “So we give them a target they can’t resist,” she said. “We give them me.”
Horst stared at her. “Out of the question!”
Her father echoed him a moment later. “Are you mad?”
Gudrun held up a hand. “We need to lure them into a trap,” she said. “And to do that, we need something that will draw them out of hiding. And we know they want me, correct?”
Horst took a long breath. “Do you have any idea just how many things could go wrong?”
“You could die,” her father said. “Gudrun…”
“I owe it to my conscience to take some risks,” Gudrun said. “I…”
“So you have said,” Horst snapped. “And they’ll engrave it on your tombstone!”
“We tell them where I will be at a specific time,” Gudrun said, ignoring him. “And we have a team of our own in place. When they turn up, we snatch them.”
“Kill them,” Horst corrected. “They won’t surrender and they’ll be damn hard to capture.”
“There’s a major push coming,” Gudrun said. She’d read the briefing notes with growing alarm. American high-attitude recon aircraft had noted the steady build-up of forces around Berlin, the Waffen-SS mustering its power for a final lunge into the city. “We cannot afford to have a commando team running around in the city. Going after me is relatively harmless…”
“No, it isn’t,” Horst said.
“… But going after a power plant or the defence lines is far more dangerous,” Gudrun added, trying hard to keep her voice calm. “We need to deal with them before it’s too late.”
“By using you as bait,” her father said. His voice was very even, very calm. “Gudrun, I forbid it.”
“I’m a married woman,” Gudrun snapped. It wasn’t a tone she would have dared to use earlier, but she was no longer under his authority. “Horst…”
Horst sighed. “It could work,” he conceded, reluctantly. “But Gudrun… the risks alone are terrifying. You could die or be snatched.”
“Or they might realise it was a trap and fall back, abandoning any plans to snatch you,” her father added, angrily. “Gudrun, this is madness.”
“We can make it work,” Gudrun insisted. She looked at Horst. “Can’t we?”
“Maybe,” Horst said, He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Too many people would have to be involved. A single leak would be enough to doom the entire operation. And there are far too many moving parts.”
“But it could work,” Gudrun said.
“Yeah, it could work,” Horst said. He ignored her father’s glare. “But you’d have to do precisely what you’re told to do.”
Her father snorted, rudely. “That will be the day.”