The characters of Colonel/Standartenfuehrer Hans Landa and Lieutenant Aldo Raine are the property of Quentin Tarantino. Angelika Lorenz and the supporting characters are my own creations.
My story begins in pre-Basterds Germany. This is before Colonel Hans Landa is transferred to France to become the infamous 'Jew Hunter' and before Lt. Aldo Raine forms the Basterds. Ranks of German officers throughout my story may be confusing to some, but for consistency, I have retained their use throughout. The internet can provide you with equivalent ranks in other military organizations. While we are on the subject of German words, bear with me when I write German phrases. I cannot guarantee their accuracy. Hopefully, the core meaning of what I'm trying to say will make sense.
I know where I am going with my story and I have already written the last chapter. It is most of the chapters in between that I haven't written yet. Although certain plot points must be included in these chapters, they will generally flow where they will as I write them. Sometimes, I surprise myself with the direction I take.
Regarding sexual content. There will be some eventually; however, I am not as adept at writing it as many of you are. I will probably not be as graphic.
Feedback will be appreciated! It is my first fan fiction, so be gentle.
A Proposition – Prologue
Berlin, some time in 1940
The prisoner sat with his arms tied behind the chair, glaring balefully at the man sitting across the table from him. His clothing was in dishabille, his open white shirt stained with sweat and blood. Damp, greasy brown hair framed a bruised and battered face. For 9 hours, he had been brutally beaten and questioned by the Gestapo, but managed to reveal nothing. It was a wonder he had the stamina to hold his head up. The new interrogator, impeccably dressed in a fresh gray, heavily decorated SS uniform; shiny black boots; and eagle adorned hat with a skull and crossbones was, in turn, a stark contrast.
Both were colonels in the German military.
"Why, Martin, it's been a long time, hasn't it? How have you been?" asked the affable SS Standartenfuehrer. He seemed genuinely pleased to see his old acquaintance.
Martin Leeb didn't answer him, but continued to stare.
"It seems you may have gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle recently."
Still an answer of silence.
"Oh, come now, Martin. You have nothing to say?"
"What of it, Hans?" was Leeb's acid response. "As the Fuehrer's lapdog you should know everything already."
The SS officer chuckled, "Then I needn't be here at all, is that it?"
"You will get nothing useful out of me. I've done nothing wrong."
"Yes, of course," was the patronizing reply.
"My reputation in the Wehrmacht is impeccable, my record exemplary!" shouted the prisoner, spit flying from his lips.
Hans Landa smiled. Oozing confidence, though some would call it arrogance, he set his briefcase on the table, opened it, and took out some papers. The smile became a lopsided smirk as he set the papers down neatly in front of him, all the while staring at the unfortunate man across the table.
"Actually, I'm here to help you," said Landa. "The Gestapo's methods are, shall we say, not very subtle, but they are effective. Given more time, I believe they would get the information they need from you. You, on the other hand, will have suffered a long, agonizing ordeal for nothing. Such a tragedy."
Landa leaned forward, crossed his arms on the table in front of him, and let his voice take on a low, conspiratorial tone.
"I'm here to make a deal."
There was a moment's silence.
"What kind of deal?" asked the Wehrmacht Oberst, who felt both a grain of hope and a mountain of suspicion.
"We'll get to that, shortly," said Landa. "You have a family, do you not?"
"I think you already know…"
"Just answer the question."
Landa had grown serious, causing Leeb to squirm in his chair.
"Yes."
"What are their names?"
Leeb hesitated.
"There's my wife, Marta, my son, Erich, and my daughter, Anna."
"Ah, yes. Your beautiful wife, Marta. She is a lovely woman and a good mother, if I recall. I remember meeting her last year at the summer Heissmeyer gala. It must be nice to come home to a good wife who loves you so dearly."
Landa paused for effect, then continued, "Your two children, Erich and Anna, how old are they now?"
Leeb gave the Standartenfuehrer a poisonous look. What was he up to?
"Erich will be17 in January and Anna will be 15 next May," he growled.
"Well, it seems your children are going to be fine young adults in no time. I hear Anna is already an accomplished piano player. Perhaps, if she gets a chance, she will play for me soon."
Leeb gritted his teeth. He didn't like where this was going.
"What's your point?" he demanded.
Landa ignored him and looked down at the papers before him. He continued, "I've been looking at the charges against you, Oberst. My, my, if I am to believe these reports, I would have to say that you certainly have been busy: conspiring against the Third Reich, collaborating with foreign spies, plotting an assassination of our Fuehrer, participating in said assassination attempt…"
Landa trailed off, shrugged his shoulders, then looked up at Leeb with raised eyebrows.
"Certainly you have something to say for yourself," said Landa.
"Sure I do. Those are all lies! All of it!"
"The two men we captured immediately after you say differently … let's see," Landa gazed down at his papers again, "their ranks and names are Unteroffizier Paul Schulz and Oberleutnant Friedrich Michler. They were both very cooperative in this investigation and I have no reason to doubt their confessions."
Upon hearing the names of his compatriots, Leeb lost all hope. So Schulz and Michler had been caught and already confessed. At least there was some comfort in knowing they didn't have the names of the other officers involved. They also were not included in the other activities of his small rebel group, so they could not reveal any more information. Hitler had to be stopped before he ruined Germany, that is all there was to it. The free rebels would continue their fight to have the man killed once and for all. Despite his own failure, he thought miserably.
Landa's face was impassive as he saw Leeb bow his head at this news. He watched him in silence for a few moments before he spoke again in a more clipped tone.
"We need names, Oberst. We need the names of your other co-conspirators. We also need to know how you acquired the logistical intelligence of the Fuehrer's whereabouts for that day, how you communicate with foreign agents, and what other unwelcome events you may have planned to undermine the regime."
"Go to hell," Leeb snarled.
Landa smiled and blinked reassuringly at his old acquaintance. People under such duress are so damn predictable, he thought. Then his smile faded again and his voice became hard.
"Not today, my friend," he said. "Here's my deal: You are going to tell me everything I want to know. You are going to tell me everything I want to know, or we'll bring Marta, and Erich, and darling little Anna here to this dreary Gestapo headquarters. Then we will line them up so that you can watch them die, one by one, by firing squad until you talk. After that, you will be put into the gentle hands of the Gestapo once again so they may help you remember the things we want to know."
Landa continued in a softer voice, "IF, on the other hand, you tell me everything now and save us all the trouble, your family will be spared. You will also be spared further torture. However, there is one caveat."
At this point, he reached into his briefcase once again and pulled out a revolver.
"There is one bullet in this gun. After we have finished with your questioning, I will leave it with you. It is up to you to decide what to do with it."
Leeb's face by this time had drained of all color and tears streaked down his cheeks. His whole body shook violently. Without question, he would save his family and pray that God would not judge him too harshly for forsaking his nation. The lives lost in this war would be catastrophic.
"I need a glass of water," said Leeb, finally. "And a cigarette, if you can spare one."
"Yes, of course."
Landa called in a guard to release the prisoner's hands and to go fetch a glass of water. He offered the prisoner a cigarette and a light, then lit one for himself. He puffed on his cigarette, savoring his feeling of triumph. Everyone has a weakness, a breaking point, he thought, it just takes a little bit of effort to find it and exploit it. He was never afraid to do that.
He was fully aware of why Colonel Leeb did what he did. The fool was an idealist who betrayed his country for some ridiculous cause. War was inevitable, whether caused by Hitler or some other psychopath bent on destruction. Germany was ripe for such leaders after suffering a humiliating loss in the last world war. The important thing was to determine how best to survive the tumult and come out ahead.
Landa's indifference toward the Nazi Party and Hitler did not prevent him from dedicating himself to their cause. After all, they provided him power and the opportunity to do what he loved the most – investigate, solve problems, discover hidden truths. The torture, the killing wasn't particularly appealing, merely necessary. His conscience may even have been nudged a bit when he thought of the possibility of killing Leeb's family. But just a bit. It was a means to an end.
The guard came back with the glass of water, interrupting the SS officer's reverie. He watched with patience as Leeb finished his cigarette and drank all his water. The man's hands shook so hard, Landa thought he'd drop the glass.
"Are we ready to begin?" he asked when the prisoner set the glass down.
With a nod, Oberst Martin Leeb proceeded to give SS Standartenfuehrer Hans Landa all the information he knew. When they were through, Landa quietly set the revolver down in front of Leeb. He then set his papers back into his briefcase, closed it, and stood up.
"Your cooperation will prove most useful in my investigation. I bid you farewell," said Landa. The prisoner said nothing, but sat in defeat, staring at the gun.
Landa left the room and walked down the hallway toward the building exit. Within minutes, a single gunshot rang out through the corridors. The SS Colonel heard it, but didn't break his stride. This phase of his investigation was over and he no longer had feelings regarding what had just transpired.
After all, Landa despised traitors and Leeb got what he deserved.