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“He said he was informing for the Stasi?”

“Yes… well…” Lena thought about it as hard as she could and decided to be as accurate as possible. “He never said he was spying for the Secret Police. But he implied it.”

“How did he imply it, young Lena?”

“Well, because he knew that all the others were informing, and he knew about the raid like they did.” Somehow, this answer did not seem to satisfy Grandfather.

“Where was he intending to take you, dear girl?” the colonel asked with a composure that was barely holding itself together.

“Well, Sir, we never actually went anywhere…”

“He never said anything about a location? Nothing whatsoever? No mention of a bar… a rooftop… even a direction?”

“No Sir… I didn’t believe him and didn’t want to go…”

The now visibly enraged colonel seemed very unsatisfied with her honesty. He began launching into several questions that didn’t appear to have anything to do with anything of import. These were questions like, “Where was your first kiss?” “Did he ever express frustration with you and go somewhere to cool off?” “What was his best friend’s name?” At first, they all seemed to be completely random, but once Grandfather joined in, asking random questions as well, Lena began to understand: they wanted to know where Hans went when no one was looking. More importantly, they believed he did go somewhere that no one would look for him to meet with someone that Lena should have known about. Perhaps this was why Hans was so desperate to get her out of that church. Perhaps, perhaps…

“S-sir…” Lena stuttered as reality dawned, “How did Hans know who y-your informants w-were?”

“Stupid girl!” the colonel lashed out, picking up and throwing a small wooden chair across the room. Sweating to the point of indignity, he berated no one in particular, “What a stupid girl! Stupid and useless! She knows nothing!”

“Perhaps given time…” Grandfather responded in a placating tone.

“No! There is no reason!” the colonel spat at him. “It was too late the moment we took the little bastard and his friends into custody. It is now almost two months later! Two! This is precisely why we warned against the raid! This! Did we not warn against it?!”

“Yes Colonel, you did,” Grandfather replied calmly.

“But your leadership was too hasty… too hasty! And now what do we have to show for years of work? Almost two years of monitoring the boy… gone! A two-year counter-intelligence operation… utterly blown! Tell me what we have to show for it?!”

“I suppose…” Grandfather responded before being cut off by an increasingly irate colonel (who was now bellowing so loud, Lena thought he would have an aneurysm).

“…a stupid useless girl, that’s what!” he raged, “A stupid useless girl who means less than nothing to the project! Meanwhile, millions of marks—flushed down the toilet like so much shit! How must I explain to my superiors the extent of your superiors’ actions? You tell me, Sir! You tell me!”

“I couldn’t possibly begin to, Colonel,” Grandfather said in a manner that sounded contrite, but felt almost like a carefully concealed giggle.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?!” the colonel screamed so loud that his voiced cracked up an octave, “It’s an outrage! It’s treason… sabotage! I should have you for mutiny!”

“You are absolutely correct, Colonel,” Grandfather stifled back laughter.

Lena had no idea what was going on. However, there appeared to be some sort of power struggle going on between the two—something much like a prank, but far more insulting. Something had happened, both without her knowing and with her assistance. Almost as instantly as she realized she was a pawn, Lena realized she hated being one. Yet, as the colonel appeared to regain his composure (pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his furrowed brow) she realized that Grandfather appeared to have won. That was marginally safer for her, right?

“Maybe I will have you for mutiny,” the colonel said dismissively, after smoothing out the front of his uniform. “Maybe I’ll have you all for mutiny. Then you and your precious whelp here can laugh off your little jape in a Gulag together.”

“And what should I do with my precious whelp, Colonel?” Grandfather said with poorly feigned contrition.

“Throw her in a cell… release her… beat her, starve her, wrap her up in a package and send her to the Americans for all I bloody care! She’s worthless to us now!” With that, the colonel stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him, guards in tow. Not that Lena particularly liked being referred to as ‘worthless’, but perhaps ‘worthless’ was a good thing to be to a high-ranking official who had just casually mentioned letting her go. Oh, her heart had skipped a beat on that one.

“Well,” Grandfather began, “now that that little ordeal is over, let’s figure out what we are going to do with you.”

“I… I d-don’t understand…” Lena stuttered, honestly.

“I don’t expect you to understand all the intricacies and nuances of that nonsense,” he responded. “Let’s just say that officers have a game they play with each other.”

“A game?”

“Yes… although it’s a game no one really wants to play. But it’s a game that everyone wants to win, so they play, realizing all the while they are going to lose. It’s because as long as they still have cards in their hand… no matter how poor… they still haven’t technically lost.” Grandfather took a moment to walk slowly behind his desk and plop down in the wooden chair behind it. He rubbed his face, before continuing.

“Lena, a word of advice for your older years.”

“Yes, Grandfather?”

“Just because you’re still playing doesn’t mean losing isn’t inevitable. Learn to recognize when it is… and then give up, no matter how much pride you have to swallow. Continuing to play doesn’t always mean you still have a fighting chance, but it almost certainly means a greater cost. Learn to recognize this, and you will always be ahead of the other losers who don’t. Plus, it leaves more time for finding a game you can win at.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” Lena said, not fully understanding what he said, or even how it correlated.

“Also, Lena?” he said with a slight twinkle in his eye.

“Yes Grandfather?”

“Never miss an opportunity to screw with Russian Intelligence.”

Lena laughed. Still, she didn’t understand the significance of what he had said. She just figured the comment was more for him than it was for her. Yet something was now nagging at her and she had to ask, “Grandfather, what did Hans do?”

“Oh, Lena…” Grandfather spoke, with a grave tone in his voice, “He did something very bad. Yes, something very bad indeed. Maybe one day we can speak about it, but for now—and for the foreseeable future—it is not safe for you to bring him up again. Please understand—and I’m sorry to say this—but you will likely never see the poor boy again. Best to just forget about him.”

Lena should have known this was coming. No, she did know this was coming—she just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Even now, she still just wanted to pretend that it wasn’t true. Hans and those big handsome eyes of his… gone for good? It was a truly terrible thought and thinking about it brought a sniffle to the bridge of her nose that threatened to spread into a pretty embarrassing crying session.