Warning: Long chapter ahead.

Chapter 6

Liege, Belgium

March 1943

Their first week in the theater was a whirlwind.

The building itself was massive, intended to house operas and Shakespeare. The stage and the wings were large enough to store the trucks, the actors and half a dozen tanks (and there were about that many tanks in the streets), to say nothing about what they could fit in the auditorium.

Nikola wrote Helen a five page letter expounding on the theatre alone that he did not intend to send.

The expected denizens of the theatre, stage managers, pages, actors and actresses, a large ballet company, full orchestra, an organist and even a gentleman with an array of bagpipes were in and out of the building on a daily basis. Rehearsals that dwarfed what his company had managed on grassy roadsides, snipe nosed sopranos, tittering ballerinas, long faced scene movers and bespectacled costumers paid unexpected visits to the three storage rooms that Colonel Kohrber insisted be given to his 'brothers in arms'. Each new face popped in with an exaggerated gasp of surprise, then back out again with a barely believable excuse.

Despite the approval of the common folk that they had received on the street it was clear that the artistic community wanted nothing to do with Nikola Tesla and his bedraggled troupe. Being supposedly German helped nothing.

None the less after their first week of morning and matinee performances concluded the newspapers, which were predominantly pro-German, found nothing to say about them but praise. They had in fact managed to pack the house in their final three days and while the theatre managers clamored to find out why it was they weren't making money on full houses, the city insisted that some sort of method be enacted that would keep track of the number of bodies in the theatre.

The compromise was a small fee, far less than the regular ticket prices for evening performances, and a third evening performance to be held in the middle of the week, replacing an evening of dramas that no one was attending anyway.

At Kohrber's insistence the city provided room and board for the actors as well as a small, almost inconsequential salary to be given to Tesla and divvied amongst his troupe.

Returning to the boarding house where his men were now settled Tesla had fought two battles. The first was a show, a drama put on for the sake of the public officials, declaring the insult of so small a fee for such fine entertainers, demanding more and leaving in a huff. The second battle would be to convince his men that they needed the funds badly, and despite the taint of blood on the bills, they would have to accept them for now.

Lost in the words he intended to use, with the faces of Diegter, Hans, Philippe and the others playing before his eyes, Nikola didn't notice the Colonel standing in the foyer until the man had spoken. The transition from the silent streets to the silent building had so transfixed him that the presence of another person, especially a person that he had no love for whatsoever, shocked him into a string of Serbian curses.

Kohrber's eyebrows disappeared under the shadow of his hat as he said. "Serbian. And so well applied. You have many unseen talents Herr Wietzer."

"Ah, Colonel Korhber. What brings you to our humble abode." Nikola asked, slipping as quickly into Heinrich Wietzer as possible. The recovery was smooth, he admitted to himself but his slip up could have been costly.

"I have found you to be an intriguing personality from the moment you appeared on our streets. I have been looking forward to an opportunity where I might share a meal with you. Perhaps a late night supper, or lunch tomorrow." Kohrber's speech, while carefully constructed, had a noticeable hitch to it the longer he spoke. Nikola decided that the Colonel had to have been afflicted by a speech impediment as a child. Something that he had taken great pains to overcome.

Putting one foot on the stairs that would take him up three flights to the company, Nikola considered the offer for a moment, before he waved the envelope of bills in his hands and said, apologetically, "I believe I have something the men will want."

He turned to head up the stairs but was stopped before he had cleared three steps.

"I can wait…" Kohrber said, a pale hand coming to rest on the banister, his tone subtly suggesting that dinner that evening was no longer an invitation.

Nikola's rage boiled quickly. He was not a man to take orders, nor to be intimidated and as he wasn't actually a 'man' at all, but heir to the greatest race in history, not to mention brilliant inventor and scientist, the presumption of authority coming from the man below him slid under his proverbial skin like a thorn.

He immediately wanted to toy with the man, turn him into a stool pigeon and a crony and when he was finished, send him whimpering back to Der Fuhrer and Das Fatherland with his tail tucked between his legs. With a wry quirk of the lips Nikola pocketed the envelope and returned to the main floor landing.

"On second thought…" He said, then ducked his head slightly and gestured with his arm for Kohrber to lead the way.

Kohrber seemed pleased and jerked his head impulsively before striding out of the building, practically goose stepping as he went.

"Of course, my interest has been purely scientific." Kohrber began once they were on the street.

By most standards the night was still young. It was only the schedule of his theatre group that had Nikola already thinking about the pretense of bed. His evening hours were spent, for the most part, catching up on paper work that had to be neglected during the day. There was also the stack of undeveloped film rolls waiting for him.

"I never went to the theatre as a child, even to see the movies." Kohrber told him, his lips curling in a curiously patronizing and intimate smile before his face went completely slack.

Tesla was unnerved, ever so slightly, but chose to ignore the odd mannerisms.

"You travel with a group of men that are clearly passionate about their craft, speak with heavy Belgian accents and never leave the theatre or their new home but for to travel between the two."

Nikola opened his mouth slightly in surprise, realizing that Kohrber had just pointed out a major flaw in their cover and that the inner strife they had been working hard to avoid ultimately brought more suspicion on them. He turned his reaction into a knowing smile that a worldly man would give to another worldly man. He played along as if they both knew what the other was thinking. His greatest fear was that Kohrber did know his thoughts.

"Many of these men were raised on the street, preforming to put bread in the mouths of their families each day. Most of their stipend is sent home, to their wives and children."

"Ah." Kohrber nodded, accepting the lie. "And you Mr. Wietzel. What wife and children do you send your stipend to?"

"My sister and her children are more than deserving of what little aid I can give them."

"Not married. A man as young and strapping as yourself…some woman would be happy to have you." The colonel's tone had a twist to it that Tesla did not like. What might have been a perfectly normal conversation between two gentlemen on the street was rapidly descending into something on a totally different vein.

The Serbian was glad for the reprieve caused by their entrance into a relatively crowded café. The concierge met them eagerly, recognizing them both but seeming far more comfortable in conversation with Tesla than he was the German officer. They were lead to the back and up a flight of stairs to the balcony level that ringed the walls of the building. The evening was warm enough that Nikola found it reasonable to eat on the outer balcony. It took little convincing on Kohrber's part and they were soon seated, a glass of wine ordered and their specials recited by the jittery head waiter.

While they waited Kohrber pulled a cigarette case from his lapel, offered a slender crafted smoke to Nikola, who declined, then lit one for himself. Smugly, Tesla admitted surprise to himself that there was no cigarette holder in play.

"I have spoken with General Goehring in Berlin. He and I have shared many a meal at the Fuhrer's table. For such a skinny man he can eat a lot." Kohrber's voice broke a little as he chuckled at himself, smoke puffing from his mouth with each outburst.

Nikola narrowed his eyes. He could smell the lie coming and he tilted his head. "I thought Goehring was rather portly. The photographs I've seen of him seem heavier than others."

Kohrber's smile was humorless. "Yes, of course. I am thinking of his younger days." The conversation paused when the wine was brought to them. With no sign of indecision the head waiter presented the bottle to Nikola instead of the Colonel and after it had been tested and approved Nikola insisted on being the one to pour, dismissing the waiter quickly but politely.

"Prost." The colonel toasted, raising his glass before he tapped its base on the table.

Nikola did the same, muttering the toast quietly before bringing the rim of the cup towards his lips. He didn't drink until after he murmured, "What has Goehring to say of Liege?"

"Nothing." Kohrber's voice was cold. "He says nothing of Liege, nor of a good will tour sent on his behalf. In fact he was surprised and found the idea to be charming, but not his own."

Tesla didn't know who Goehring was, but he had gathered in the past few minutes that he was well known and very high up in Berlin. He had also gathered that Goehring was likely to have his hands deeply buried in the entertainment pot and that the Belgian Resistance had done a horrid job of preparing their back story if they had forged the name of a top general in the army that could be so easily reached.

He couldn't remember the name signed on the documents in his billfold, he had been so quick to glance at the papers then store them away and he hadn't looked at them since. He reached into his pocket, his mind formulating his plan one way or the other, knowing it would all depend on the signature at the bottom of their orders.

What he saw would have turned him several shades of blue. He was instantly afraid, and seconds later, angry. He decided to use it. Throwing the piece of paper at the table he burst from his chair and marched away, his hands going to his hips. "The fools…" He declared, just loud enough for Kohrber to hear. "Of course we haven't received our due, of course we've heard nothing from Berlin." He shook his head before he turned. Kohrber had taken the bait and was looking over the paper.

"A forgery?"

"Clearly!" Nikola said, jabbing the tips of his fingers toward the table. "Someone's idea of a cruel joke. Some fool's errand to tear me from the Fatherland, send me gallivanting all over this disgusting country."

"A good forgery…" Kohrber said before he placed the paper back on the table. "How unfortunate for you."

"Me…? No sir. No. This is not about..me… This is about four men and five boys that are miles from their homes, serving The Reich the only way they can and expecting to be paid for it when they return. They won't stay with the tour once I've told them their money won't come. The only thing keeping them in that…boarding house, is going to be this…" Nikola pulled the envelope of bills out of his pocket and slapped them dramatically onto the table. At the corner of the balcony an older couple jumped at the sound.

Like a rapidly blooming rose, Nikola had a plan. The concierge, likely called by the head waiter, was hurrying to their table, stuttering about the wine and their meals and wondering what had caused such an outburst. Nikola ignored the man, pacing away.

He had long ago given up seeing the money that the resistance forces had promised him, and would admit to finding some satisfaction, if small, in the day to day workings of their troupe. He had always been attracted by the theatre and working the medium, as well as his nightly forays into the town with his camera, had managed to free his mind from the things that normally troubled him. In a way it was a vacation. The first he had ever taken.

To actually manage to collect on the money that had drawn him there in the first place was the icing on the cake. Kohrber had a great deal of pull with the community and was doubtless the officer in charge of the occupying forces in Liege. Given enough time and effort Nikola would be able to get the money and all the information the resistance could use before disappearing again and returning to the work he truly loved. Maybe he really would travel to Serbia.

Having formulated his next plan of attack Nikola turned to address Kohrber only to find that he was no longer at the table, nor for that matter, on the balcony. The concierge was also curiously absent along with the paper Tesla had thrown.

The envelope of bills remained, however, and he picked it up tucking it back into his jacket before the tall vampire crossed the length of the balcony, advancing rapidly on the older couple at the end. At the last moment he surpassed them to look over the edge. The colonel was below, walking quickly with the concierge up the street. The gray haired man was gesticulating desperately at the blonde, but his motions seemed more an encouragement of the current course than a deterrent.

Something was wrong. Nikola had every reason to fear that it might have to do with his men. He was prepared to launch himself from the balcony in the interest of saving time but the haughty voice of the older woman stopped him. She was displeased with his dramatic scene from earlier and sensing that she was just the sort to immediately spread the news of a man launching himself from a story above street level Nikola chose against it. He took off running back the way he had come, moving around the corner of the building before he launched himself into the alley. A quick transformation allowed him to land safely in the darkness below and he took off running.

The streets of the entertainment district were fairly well lit, especially near the businesses still active at that hour. Beyond those areas however the city was dark, either because of the destruction from the invasion or an interest in conserving gas or electricity. It didn't matter much as the vampire DNA he bore allowed him to widen his irises far beyond the capability of a human.

It had been so long since he had transformed and the feeling so exhilarating that Nikola remained in his true form as he moved through the darkened streets. He could hear the voices of the city, heart beats mixing together, the sounds and smells growing and fading as he passed each building. It didn't take him long to catch up with the German officer. From a block away and partially obscured by the southern wall of an apothecary Nikola watched as Kohrber and the concierge stopped on the sidewalk, their former argument reduced now to a whisper.

There was a brief exchange that ended with the colonel pointing the fidgety older man westward before shoving him in the same direction. After a few stumbling steps the man righted himself and shuffled purposefully down the street.

Kohrber looked up to the shop he stood before, his eyes focused far beyond the picture window and up toward the second story. Nikola followed his gaze, confused, as the second story was as dark as the first. There was a thin line of smoke coming from one of the chimneys, but for that the building was still and silent.

Nikola glanced down the narrow space between buildings before hurrying across the gap. There was a small sconce jutting out from the second story window above him, just wide enough for a planter and not meant to act as a balcony. The vampire judged it to be sturdy enough to hold him and, after taking a preparatory breath, he launched himself upward, latching taloned hands onto the wrought iron railing. He pulled himself up and over, exchanging his grip on the iron for one on the window's frame. The shades had been drawn and there was no light behind them. He could hear two slow heart beats with in, the measured breathing of sleeping individuals.

There was something else though, a more rapid heartbeat that was joined by two, four others the more he listened. But the pulses were not coming from the second story. He looked up, judged that the roof peaked high enough to allow room for a cramped but substantial third floor, and crouched on the sconce, measuring the distance between his current position and the tiny opening at the crown of the eaves.

He jumped, missed the opening and clawed desperately at the stone walls, cramming his fingers into an excavation of soft clay and stifling a groan as all his weight suddenly hung from the knuckles of one hand. He was higher than before, and two stories above the ground. He hadn't done much falling in the past few years, hadn't really explored just what it would take to defeat the vampire genome and actually die. He didn't imagine it would feel good to plummet to the pavement. The gap he had wedged his claws into was starting to widen even as he hung there, failing construction causing the plaster to crumble.

He was going to fall, was being pelted by the very wall that was giving out on him and worse still there was the sound of more than a dozen pair of boots on the other side of the building and Kohrber's voice ringing out issuing orders. He had too make the decision to fall or climb. The sound of a gasping cry, filtering through the small hole he had made into the attic, drew his attention before he could. Then all hell broke loose.

The front door was kicked open and the shop on the main floor infiltrated. Below him on the street he heard more footsteps at a dead run, likely covering the possibility of a back door escape. Who was escaping, or why, he didn't know. Clinging to the side of the building like an overgrown bat wasn't going to help him at all. He prayed silently to his ancestors, and the God of his father for good measure, then pulled his hand free of the hole, widening it even more before he plunged to the street.

He bent his knees as he landed directly in front of the two soldiers ordered to the rear, turned to face them then hissed; baring his teeth and claws in one horrifying moment. The first soldier ran, the second tried to bring his gun to bear. Two quick slashes of his claws and the soldier was on the ground, moaning.

Get out, his mind told him. Get out before Kohrber is called back here to deal with the vampire no one thought existed. Lights were snapping on behind the curtains on the second level, another light swept across the hole Nikola had created. He was fading back further into the shadows when a hand shot through the gap in the wall, pushing at the plaster and stone to widen it.

"What in heaven's…"

The hand disappeared then reappeared, punching desperately at mortar and rock, the debris launching out into the street as the hole was widened. The plaster had to have been recently applied, the rock very young and that part of the building rebuilt for the walls to be so weak.

Nikola stepped toward the house again as a scream rang out. It had come from the second story but he had a sinking feeling that the sleeping couple wasn't the goal. Whoever was trying to bust through the wall was. The hole had expanded to about the width of his shoulders when a pale and frightened female face appeared.

"Quickly, quickly," She wheezed, speaking to someone behind her before she started to feed a length of sheets, tied end to end, from the hole.

There was a second scream from behind the shuttered window, a man's voice shouting violently in protest and then the sound of a pair of shots. The male voice was silenced, the female voice began to wail. Kohrber could be heard over it all, shouting orders.

On the third floor a child joined the woman, a pre-teen boy who was quick to grasp at the sheet and start shimmying down. Nikola could see from below that their makeshift rope wasn't nearly long enough and as the boy drew closer Nikola whispered loudly for him to jump.

The boy jerked in fright, his hands let loose of the sheet and he fell ten feet into Nikola's waiting arms. Terrified the boy beat at his head and shoulders until Tesla released him, then took off running down the alley. It was just as well Nikola thought as screams erupted from the floor the boy had just left.

There was a rapid burst of shots from a machine rifle and a second child appeared at the gap. A young girl, no more than six. She was bleary eyed, her hair tousled, obviously aroused from deep sleep.

"Throw her…" Nikola shouted, first in German, than in French when his words had no effect. The sound of her mother language attracted the young woman's attention and time slowed to a crawl.

Gun shots, screams, shouts of soldiers and running feet.

"There's not time! Throw her now." Nikola screamed upward, abandoning stealth for expedience.

With her face contorted in horror, desperation and the realization that her life would soon be ending the young woman in the wall did exactly that. She grasped the child under her arms, fed her feet first through the hole and released her.

The child made no sound, perhaps too frightened even to screech. Her white night dress flapped and fluttered as she drifted to the earth, a tattered stuffed animal clutched tightly in her skinny arms. Her face was turned upward, searching even as she plummeted for the young woman who was likely to have been her mother.

More shots, and Nikola knew the woman was dead. He caught the child, doing everything in his power to shield the impact of her fall just as soldiers rounded the back corner of the house. Thankfully Kohrber was not with them.

They opened fire, bullets flew as Nikola turned his back towards them, shielding the child and taking off at a dead run. The first impact was high on his back and hurt like blue blazes. The next two he felt as punches to his kidneys, but oddly devoid of pain. The bullet that hit his knee knocked his leg out from under him. With a growl he struggled upward, limped hard forward and finally rounded the block where the bullets could no longer find him.

His lungs burned, filling with fluid but he continued to run. He was spitting blood out with each exhale, staining the child's night dress, but he dare not stop. Only when the sounds had faded from his considerable hearing and his steps had slowed to a crawl did he pause.

He propped himself against the crumbling wall of an abandoned factory and tried to unlock the arms that had a chokehold on his neck. "Sweet heart…" He gasped, desperately working to disguise the pain leeching into his voice. "I want to see that you're alright." He just barely remembered to say the words in French.

It took some coaxing but the girl finally loosened her hold, leaning back away from him but refusing to be put down. He looked her over, wincing at the blood staining one of her shoulders, but grateful that it was his and not hers.

There were tears in his eyes, brought on by the pain, and tears in her eyes that made the intoxicating brown hue no more beautiful than russet, no more rich than chocolate. With a shaking hand, now returned to its human form, Nikola brushed unruly reddish blonde hair back and was instantly, impossibly and heart-breakingly in love.

The child was physically untouched, and she returned quickly to squeezing the life out of his neck, the pressure of her stuffed animal squished up against his heart. He whispered assurances as he forced himself to his feet.

The wounds would heal, the hole in his knee already doing so, but he needed a place to do it in, a warm place where he could wrap the child in blankets and hopefully ply her with hot milk.

He was certain Kohrber had not seen him, was convinced that the best place to hole up was exactly where Mr. Wietzel was supposed to be at that hour and started the slow return trip to the boarding house, the crack of gunshots and echo of shouts finally fading behind him.