Dangerous Territory

Geheime Staatspolizei

It was long past dark. Three men wearing SS uniforms drove up to the Feste Göben internment camp. A guard walked up as the car crossed the moat, glaring at the men who looked ready to drive right past him without slowing down.

"Halt! Wer ist da?" Who goes there?

A window rolled out, and a man in the back of the car pulled out a chain necklace. Hanging from it was a silver medallion with the words "Geheime Staatspolizei."

The guard jolted at the sight of the warrant disk marking this man as a member of the Gestapo. Two others in the car also had medallions around their necks and showed them with frigid eyes. The guard stood back and watched with a gulp trapped in his throat as the car continued into the internment camp.

"Gestapo?" the guard muttered. "Why are they back?"

The car drove up to the fort, and the three men stepped out. Word apparently spread quickly, because many young soldiers peeked around corners, hoping for a glimpse of the dreaded Gestapo. One of the more experienced soldiers, a man who had been stationed there back when the fort was run by the secret police, stepped forward.

"Heil Hitler! Welcome back, Herr Kriminaldirektor. More prisoners for us? You know, we're no longer staffed to hold too many."

Magath's eyes narrowed. "We're here about the two who came in this afternoon."

"Do you mean that Heer captain? He refused to fill out paperwork. I can show you to him. Perhaps you should put that wretched Jew he caught out of his misery."

"Lead the way," Magath ordered.

They walked through the frigid hallways, polished black boots clicking on concrete floor.

"I'm glad you told me about this, Grice," Magath said as they turned down corridors.

Colt's eyes were fixed ahead. "An old friend, Reiner Braun, told me he and Captain Woermann had found these two by the river. Many times before, Braun expressed doubts in Woermann's abilities, especially interrogation, having witnessed him try and fail to break a young member of the French Resistance."

A man with a bulbous nose and sadistic glint in his eyes named Koslow marched beside them. "There's a talent to getting people to talk."

"Indeed," Magath said as he stepped into the room where Levi was on the floor, curled into a ball, blood and bruises all over his body.

Levi looked up through a puffy eye and recognized all three men. "Putain de merde," he cursed through a swollen lip.

Both Kitz and Galliard snapped to attention as soon as they saw the two leaves on the man's SS collar, marking Magath's rank.

"Oberführer! Heil Hitler!" Galliard shouted.

Kitz repeated after him, "Heil Hitler, Herr Kriminaldirektor."

Magath saluted them without really looking at the two. He circled around Levi with his hands behind his back. "You again. I thought for sure I would leave this city without catching the mysterious Levi. What have you gotten out of him, Herr Hauptmann?"

Kitz's mouth opened, then closed, choked up on what to say. When Magath's cold blue eyes turned to him, he visibly flinched.

"Have you not questioned him at all? Do you have any clue who this man is?"

"I know he's the fag lover of an Oberleutnant who used to be under my command."

"And how do you know that?"

"We caught them in the act."

"I see. What is the name of this wayward officer?"

"Oberleutnant Eren Jäger. He's in custody."