“Shut up,” Karl snapped. He hadn’t mourned his wife after her death. Himmler had arranged the match, pointing out that a senior SS official could not be unmarried. It hadn’t been a successful marriage. There hadn’t even been children. “You have no children.”
Gudrun ignored him. “You have no conception of war,” she said. “To you, soldiers are nothing more than numbers. You don’t understand them, any more than you understand me, because you have never lived their life. And your life has never been in any real danger.”
“You didn’t live their life either,” Karl said.
“No,” Gudrun agreed. “But I was engaged to one. And I would have married him, if he’d returned alive and well. I know the cost of war, Mein Führer. You don’t. And now your grip on power is weakening because you’ve pushed your men too far…”
Karl clenched his fists. If she’d been a man — and if they’d been in public — he would have had to punch her for her words. There would have been no way to avoid it. She’d practically called him a coward! Her words were fighting words. And yet, they weren’t in public…
He cocked his head. “A woman can say what she likes and escape punishment,” he said, lightly. “Aren’t you lucky?”
Gudrun shrugged, as if she were bored. “My father never knew that,” she said. “He was always strict with me.”
“A shame he wasn’t stricter,” Karl said. “He might have saved you from a gruesome fate.”
He cleared his throat. “Enjoy the rest of your time in the cell,” he added. “You’ll be heading east in four days.”
Gudrun looked pale. “Is that all you came to tell me?”
“I suggest you learn to behave yourself,” Karl added. “Or you’ll find the east absolute hell.”
“Really,” Gudrun said. “And to think that you are already in hell.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Germanica, Germany East
12 November 1985
Katherine had never contemplated treason before.
It just wasn’t something she’d ever done. She’d never had any reason to contemplate treason against the Reich. The Reich had been good to her. Certainly, it had pushed her hard to see if she really wanted to serve in the military — rather than one of the handful of roles open to women who didn’t want to be solely mothers, daughters and wives — but it had accepted her, once she had proved herself. She’d thought little of the protests, when they’d sprung up for the first time; she’d thought even less of the Provisional Government, when it had taken control of Berlin.
And yet, the Reich was coming apart at the seams.
She listened to the bodyguards and knew, without a doubt, that the end was approaching rapidly. Mutiny in the Waffen-SS was unknown. It almost certainly spelt the end of the Reich, at least in the east. The trust and loyalty that bound Germany East together had broken, raising the spectre of a second civil war while the bandits and insurgents started to reclaim the land they’d lost. And that meant… and that meant what?
The end, she thought, morbidly.
She had no illusions about the world, none of the blinders that westerners like Gudrun wore before they came face to face with reality. Holliston, whatever his flaws, had been correct when he’d called the world red in tooth and claw. The Third Reich had been established by force, was maintained by force and would collapse when the force holding it together could no longer do the job. And that force had now broken.
Part of her wanted to hate Gudrun for her role in bringing down the Reich. But the rest of her had to admit that the flaws had always been there, the fault lines just waiting for someone to exploit them. Gudrun might have been the leader, the first person to stand up and question the Reich… but if it hadn’t been her, it would have been someone else. Gudrun, for all of her intelligence and bravery, wouldn’t have managed to do more than get herself arrested if others hadn’t supported her.
She watched, warily, as Karl Holliston confronted Gudrun. Gudrun was putting on a good show, but it was easy to tell that she was frightened. Katherine didn’t blame her. The Führer’s instability had only grown stronger since their last face-to-face meeting. It would be easy, chillingly easy, for him to order her tortured or raped or murdered. Or to do it himself… and if he did, Katherine would be unable to save her. Katherine knew she was good, but she wasn’t good enough to take down five bodyguards and kill the Führer. Even Otto Skorzeny would have found it a challenge.
I need to get her out of here, she thought, grimly. But how?
She was fairly sure she could get Gudrun out of the cell. Now the Führer had pronounced her fate, Gudrun was under far less supervision. Katherine had even been able to get her some exercise, although the Führer’s benevolence hadn’t reached far enough to give her some clothes. And she could see his point. A naked girl running through the corridors would be instantly noticeable. But realistically, Gudrun couldn’t hope to break out of her cell and escape without help. Even Skorzeny would have found that impossible.
Katherine sighed as she watched the Führer turn and storm out of the cell. His bodyguards fanned out around him, again, as he headed down the corridor towards the lift. He was definitely insecure, Katherine noted. The man who had once strode around the Reichstag as if he were a common secretary was now escorted by armed guards at all times. She couldn’t help wondering if they followed him into the toilet.
She smirked at the thought, then returned to her contemplations. Getting out of the bunker was tricky, but doable; getting out of the city itself would be a great deal harder. She thought, briefly, about finding an apartment and just staying there, but she knew it wouldn’t last. There were too many watching eyes in Germanica, too many people who would be happy to report anything… the moment the alarm was sounded, people would be on the alert for them. No, she had to get Gudrun out of the city…
…And she had to do it before the alarm was raised.
She checked the monitors — Gudrun was seated on the bed, crying silently — then turned back to her files. Gudrun didn’t seem to have any family within the city, no relatives at all. There was certainly no one who could be counted upon to help, not when it ran the risk of crossing the Führer himself. Katherine’s own family were hundreds of miles away… and, in all honesty, she knew they probably wouldn’t help either. They hadn’t been very supportive of her dreams, back when she’d been a child.
Shaking her head, she started to dig into Horst Albrecht’s file for the sixth time. She’d read it very carefully, back when she’d taken the risk of contacting him after the Reich Council had fallen; she honestly hadn’t seen any reason why he might have turned on the Reich. But after meeting Gudrun she’d known the answer. Horst Albrecht’s father had died on active service, under mysterious circumstances. He might have wondered if his father’s death — and the bland notification they’d received — had come after he’d been crippled, just like Gudrun’s boyfriend. And now they were married…