Daria stood on the platform, head held high, although her body was bent. The torturers had been brutally efficient, eventually extracting all the information she had. She was unbowed, though, as her eyes swept the assembled crowd.
The resistance to the Occupation government had known that some of their members would be taken and tortured, it was inevitable. And it was inevitable that once captured, the victim would break. So they asked not the impossible, but merely the improbable. Any agent captured by the resistance was asked to hold out for twelve hours. Twelve hours to change passwords and meeting places. Twelve hours to get the other members of the cell out of the area and into safe houses. Twelve hours of lies upon lies, of suffering and screams. Daria had given fourteen.
The drums started. She turned her head for a moment to regard the man next to her as he moved the noose around her neck. He wore not the traditional black robe, but the dress uniform of an obergefreiter in the German army. The failure of the Wilkie Administration to adapt to the changing situation in 1941 had led to the fall of Britain and the Nazi invasion. The United States had finally fallen in 1947, and here, 50 years later, the resistance still struggled for freedom. And here was Daria waiting to be executed by this man with his fair skin and blond hair, stolid face and empty eyes.
The drums stopped and the charges were read against her in German and English. She noted the SS gruppenführer for the district was in attendance, and decided she was proud that she rated someone so highly placed at her execution. She wasn't afraid, not really. Her cell had been a small one, just a few of her fellow trainees at the Hitler Youth Educational Facility. They were easily gotten out. She'd never met their section leader, but had heard stories of her frightening competence. So she had no doubt that Jane was safe, and her parents. Quinn... Quinn would follow her own path. Daria was just grateful it hadn't been Quinn who turned her in.
The drums began again. This was it. She looked out across the crowds gathered in the public square beneath the large statue of Hitler. She'd hoped she would live to see it brought down. Suddenly, her eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones, and a familiar face gave her a sad, but proud smile. Her mind reeled. That had been Aunt Amy. And suddenly she knew: Her section commander; the one piece of information that Germans wanted above all others. She hadn't had it then, but she had it now. A last gift. The irony appealed to Daria.
She was asked if she had any final words to say. She'd decided last night, after much thought. It was banned of course, but all the resistance members were required to learn it. "I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America..." She wondered briefly what it would be like to grow up in a country, her own country, where she could utter those words freely. "And to the Republic, for which it stands..." The gruppenführer's face contorted with sudden rage, as he gave the signal. Daria smiled as she fell. It was a small victory, but it was enough. It had to be.
