quarter-mile away, but loud enough that it made the troop of SS sonderkommandos leap up from their campsite and scurry for their weapons. The troops stopped in place when Obersturmbannfuhrer Kramer raised a black gloved fist and shouted, “Halt!”
Kramer cocked his head in the direction of the explosion, listening intently. He did not move, and neither did his men. There was nothing but silence from the woods, until a motorcycle engine roared to life and sped away into the distance. Kramer fixed his stiff uniform collar and huffed on the silver totenkopf pin on his hat, taking a moment to shine it with his jacket’s sleeve. The sonderkommandos assembled into formation behind him, one of them muttering, “How many times must we stand back like cowards and watch this Amerikaner schweinekerl kill innocent Germans?”
Kramer took the men into the woods, walking until he saw a thirty foot scar of overturned earth that came directly from the gatehouse and stopped at the base of a large redwood tree. The men gathered around the tree, staring at the mangled German soldier wrapped around its base. Whatever had thrown the soldier had done it with enough force to pulverize his insides on impact.
They followed the path of turfed vegetation until they came to a second German soldier, this one naked. Several of the sonderkommandos cursed at the sight, but Kramer waved them on.
A tall column of black, acrid smoke spilled out of the destroyed gatehouse. Kramer looked around the debris and said, “Deomai was to obtain a sample of the Amerikaner’s blood and leave it here. Do not allow your German brothers to have died in vain.”
He rolled a cigarette and took off his hat to wipe his forehead on his sleeve. The devastation was complete. Perfect. Agent Omega had done exactly what he was rumored to be capable of. Kramer grunted in admiration, then thought, how much sweeter it will be when I present you to the Fuhrer as a prisoner.
“ Obersturmbannfuhrer , over here. I have something.”
Kramer bent over to inspect the place on the ground where one of the men located a woman’s handkerchief. He picked it up and smiled at the sight of a dark red stain on the fabric.
***
Four Nazi brown-shirts patrolled Frankford train station, walking up and down the platforms, checking id cards. “There is a hotel nearby,” Amelie said. “There will not be so many in the morning.”
“We can get on,” Price said. “There are ways to get past them.”
“I am tired, Omega. I need to shower and change. What is one evening?” She did not wait for an answer. She put her arm through his and led him down the street.
That night she lay next to him in bed, tossing and turning. She rolled over to face him and brushed her foot against his shin, tickling the hair on his leg with her toes. Her fingers swept across his chest and she pressed herself closer to him, putting her breasts against his side.
“We need to stay focused.”
“Do you know what I like best about this work? I get to be somebody else. A character in a play. Nothing matters, because it is not me doing these things, you see? It is just my character. And tonight, I want to be Lena Vogel making love to her husband Hans.”
Price pulled away from her and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I can’t play make-believe with you, Amelie.”
Amelie scowled at him, “You are just a stupid little boy who can do magic tricks that kill people. When your balls finally drop you will realize what you missed.”
Price tucked the pillow under his head and was soon asleep.
***
The next morning, Price sipped his coffee and kept his eyes fixed on the window while Amelie munched on a piece of buttered toast. She studied his face in the early daylight. “Where did you get that scar across your
Kramer cocked his head in the direction of the explosion, listening intently. He did not move, and neither did his men. There was nothing but silence from the woods, until a motorcycle engine roared to life and sped away into the distance. Kramer fixed his stiff uniform collar and huffed on the silver totenkopf pin on his hat, taking a moment to shine it with his jacket’s sleeve. The sonderkommandos assembled into formation behind him, one of them muttering, “How many times must we stand back like cowards and watch this Amerikaner schweinekerl kill innocent Germans?”
Kramer took the men into the woods, walking until he saw a thirty foot scar of overturned earth that came directly from the gatehouse and stopped at the base of a large redwood tree. The men gathered around the tree, staring at the mangled German soldier wrapped around its base. Whatever had thrown the soldier had done it with enough force to pulverize his insides on impact.
They followed the path of turfed vegetation until they came to a second German soldier, this one naked. Several of the sonderkommandos cursed at the sight, but Kramer waved them on.
A tall column of black, acrid smoke spilled out of the destroyed gatehouse. Kramer looked around the debris and said, “Deomai was to obtain a sample of the Amerikaner’s blood and leave it here. Do not allow your German brothers to have died in vain.”
He rolled a cigarette and took off his hat to wipe his forehead on his sleeve. The devastation was complete. Perfect. Agent Omega had done exactly what he was rumored to be capable of. Kramer grunted in admiration, then thought, how much sweeter it will be when I present you to the Fuhrer as a prisoner.
“ Obersturmbannfuhrer , over here. I have something.”
Kramer bent over to inspect the place on the ground where one of the men located a woman’s handkerchief. He picked it up and smiled at the sight of a dark red stain on the fabric.
***
Four Nazi brown-shirts patrolled Frankford train station, walking up and down the platforms, checking id cards. “There is a hotel nearby,” Amelie said. “There will not be so many in the morning.”
“We can get on,” Price said. “There are ways to get past them.”
“I am tired, Omega. I need to shower and change. What is one evening?” She did not wait for an answer. She put her arm through his and led him down the street.
That night she lay next to him in bed, tossing and turning. She rolled over to face him and brushed her foot against his shin, tickling the hair on his leg with her toes. Her fingers swept across his chest and she pressed herself closer to him, putting her breasts against his side.
“We need to stay focused.”
“Do you know what I like best about this work? I get to be somebody else. A character in a play. Nothing matters, because it is not me doing these things, you see? It is just my character. And tonight, I want to be Lena Vogel making love to her husband Hans.”
Price pulled away from her and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. “I can’t play make-believe with you, Amelie.”
Amelie scowled at him, “You are just a stupid little boy who can do magic tricks that kill people. When your balls finally drop you will realize what you missed.”
Price tucked the pillow under his head and was soon asleep.
***
The next morning, Price sipped his coffee and kept his eyes fixed on the window while Amelie munched on a piece of buttered toast. She studied his face in the early daylight. “Where did you get that scar across your
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