This story is a sequel to Season 1 Episode 8 and is not intended to conform to the series thereafter.
The Mercedes sedan bounced and lurched to a halt at the trail's terminus before the solid, broad-shouldered log cabin Obergruppenführer John Smith fondly called his hunting lodge. The place was peaceful, masculine, and very private. Perfect for his purpose.
John got out, stretched, and yawned. John's son Thomas scrambled out of the passenger's side and jogged with youth's boundless energy through the tall, damp grass of the surrounding meadow, circling the cabin to the overlook of the lake. The water would appear a rosy, mist-shrouded mirror of the dawn sky—balm to the suburban soul.
Yes, perfect. John opened the trunk and pushed aside the duffle bags to pull out his shotgun. With Thomas out of sight, he inserted two shells and closed the break with a firm, businesslike click.
John was a good Nazi. He would not hesitate. It was a fortunate thing, too, for Thomas was already returning, rounding the corner of the lodge. He and John made eye contact while John stood there with the shotgun angled down. John noticed just the slightest faltering in Thomas' stride. Was that the boy's illness? Or some suspicion, felt at some deep, intuitive level? Whatever the cause, John did not think his own guilt imagined it.
John was a good Nazi. he had no guilt.
Thomas, a well-disciplined youth, did not need to be told to help unpack. He gave his father a curious look but said nothing. Thomas pulled both duffles from the trunk, their rich black leather matching that of his father's duster. As he turned toward the lodge, his back presented the perfect target.
John ought to raise the shotgun now and blow the back of his son's head off. Out here, with no witnesses and no apparent motive, no one (save Dr. Adler!) would suspect Thomas' death was anything but accidental. So simple: raise the barrel; pull the trigger.
John did nothing.
The father in him was relieved. The soldier in him reasoned the hunt would provide a more plausible alibi. The Nazi in him was coldly contemptuous.