Ernie put his arm under hers and they hobbled down the road. She groaned with almost every step. He finally got her in the back seat and drove back to the warehouse. She had her own apartment in another building, but didn’t argue when she took him to his Spartan quarters.
“Please let me have a towel and a washcloth and a few minutes to clean up. I wouldn’t mind a couple of Band-Aids for my arm, and, oh yes, a bathrobe. Needle and thread would be nice if you have it.”
“Of course, but what happened?”
“In a few minutes, Ernie. Let me get myself back together.”
It was closer to an hour when she emerged, wearing the robe. It went all the way down to her ankles. She carried the dress she’d been wearing. It had been badly torn and she’d tried to make some repairs with his sewing kit to keep it from falling apart. He made some instant coffee and she sipped it gladly. The bruises on her face were bluish-black and one of her eyes was black and swollen. The bruises extended down her neck and below her collar. He couldn’t help but wonder just where else she’d been hurt and it angered him.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t see a doctor? Dulles has one under contract.”
“I’m sure. It’s just bruises and, no, I wasn’t raped, although it almost happened. An angry and drunk German officer beat the crap out of me. Of course he was one of the SS pigs.”
He felt relief that she hadn’t been assaulted but fury that she’d been beaten. “Why did he do it?”
“I was supposed to pick up some information from an agent at a drop site in a park. Before I could, this drunken lout appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed me and started crying about how bad it was that Hitler was dead and what a great man he was. When I tried to get away, he was sober enough to realize that my accent wasn’t German, or even Swiss. Then he realized that my dress had so much padding. He dragged me into some bushes and started to ask me who I was and what was I doing in Bregenz. He wasn’t stupid and realized I was an American, an enemy, and a spy.”
“I’m going to kill Dulles for sending you across.”
“Wait your turn. Actually, I volunteered. Don’t worry, Ernie, it won’t happen again.”
“How did you get away?”
“He was drunk and he decided he would attack me. He pushed me onto the ground and started tearing at my fat girl clothes and simply lost his grip when more came off than he expected. I got up and pushed him down and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I think he sounded the alarm because the border was very quickly closed, which is why I took so long to get across. Thank you for being there. By the way, the guy’s name is Hahn and he’s a major in the SS. He also has a bright red scar or birthmark on his cheek so you’ll know him if you see him.”
She stood shakily. “I haven’t slept in two nights. I would like to borrow your bed for a few hours.”
He thought about making a smartass comment about her borrowing his bed at any time, but thought better of it. “It’s all yours. I’ll drag a cot over by the door and sleep outside, just like a faithful dog. Except this dog will have a pistol.”
She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. “Thank you again, Ernie.” He became aware that she had little or nothing on underneath his unworthy robe.
* * *
Josef Goebbels stood at attention facing the flag of the Reich and the black-draped portrait of Adolf Hitler. Like most of the men in the large room hollowed out of a mountain, he’d been weeping. Even though it had been expected, the announcement of Hitler’s death had hit them hard. Magda had been devastated. The last he’d seen her she’d taken to her room and was sobbing hysterically. Despite their long simmering animosities, they had hugged and sobbed together and tried to comfort each other. They even made love or whatever passed for it now. Both of them had found it strangely comforting.
He would have stayed longer, but duty called. Magda went to comfort the children while he met with the handful of leaders of the new Germanican government.
Goebbels wiped his eyes. “Is it possible the communists are lying?”
Field Marshal Schoerner shook his head. He was pale but appeared to not have been crying. “The communists are always lying. However, in this case they are likely telling the truth. Their armies have had Berlin surrounded and have been steadily squeezing the area around the Chancellery. Our Fuhrer always said that he would die in Berlin at the head of the Nazi cause. I am certain that the Reds will publish pictures of his body and proclaim the triumph of their cause. The question remains, Minister, what do we do now?”
Goebbels thought quickly. Even though the Nazi Party in Germany appeared dead, as dead as the Fuhrer, there were a number who would want to become Hitler’s successor. “Where is Goering? Is he still under house arrest?”
SS Major Alfonse Hahn entered the room. He had heard the last question. “He was freed by loyal members of his Luftwaffe and may be trying to make it to the American lines as an alternative to surrendering to the Soviets. He should not be considered a factor in our future, Minister. The orders regarding his possible treason are a matter of record. I do not believe that he will be obeyed by anyone of consequence.”
Goering had considered himself Hitler’s heir until he tactlessly broached the subject, implying that he should take over before Berlin fell and took Hitler with it. With Bormann’s backing, an outraged Hitler had then considered the corpulent Luftwaffe marshal’s actions treasonous. He had publicly discredited the man and placed him under house arrest. No, Goebbels thought, Hermann Goering was out of the picture. Leave him to his alcohol and drugs.
Hahn rubbed the bruise on his chin where that American bitch had hit him. He was certain she had been an American spy. He had punched her several times and was going to attack her sexually when she’d somehow managed to get away.
In the absence of a formal intelligence-gathering apparatus, Hahn had effectively taken control of that aspect of life in Bregenz. Along with chasing down Jews and other enemies, he had established radio contact with a number of Nazi loyalists in Germany proper.
“Himmler and Bormann have disappeared,” Hahn said. “It is feared that Bormann was killed trying to flee from Berlin following Hitler’s death when it became every man for himself.”
“What a shame,” said Goebbels. He didn’t bother to hide his smile. If the detested Bormann was dead, it was better for him and for Germany. “I suppose that leaves Admiral Doenitz as a possible pretender.”
Hahn nodded. “The admiral has been in radio contact with us. As you know, he has located his headquarters at Flensburg, near the Danish border. He now commands all German military forces not in Germanica and under our control. He considers himself the current president of Germany, but not of Germanica.”
“Just as well,” said Goebbels. “We could do nothing to support each other.” He laughed bitterly, “Too damn many Allied armies in the way.” It occurred to him that he should promote Hahn to some higher position. The man obviously had skills and was needed.
“Minister,” said Schoerner, “The admiral wishes to know what to do about surrendering his armies to the Allies. He wants desperately to avoid surrendering them to the Soviets.”
Goebbels thought for a moment. “Let him work out whatever arrangements he wishes. He can surrender all the damn armies and ships under his command. The armies of Germanica, however, are not under his command and any announcement that he is attempting to surrender them will be rejected. Germanica is an independent country and does not answer to any rump German government in Flensburg.”
Goebbels lit a cigarette and puffed angrily. Smoking in the caverns was supposedly prohibited, but who was going to stop him. He was Adolf Hitler’s successor. He took a deep breath and continued. “It has occurred to me that we have been too focused on the bare needs for our survival. Now we must go beyond that if we are to become a true nation. We need other nations, preferably a number of them, to recognize Germanica. That way we can send people out armed with diplomatic immunity. Ergo, we need a diplomatic corps, albeit it will have to be a small one. Anyone have suggestions?”