Certain Demolitions
Chapter 25: A Spy in Our Midst
Summer, 1942
Germany
Lt Mander and Kristoph Gavin do not like each, and it's not a secret.
They work well together in the office and keep their personal lives out of their jobs, but they do not get along.
Lt Mander hates Kristoph, who, though he lives frugally, has money and enough to spare. To Mander, Kristoph represents the last remnants of the German nobles who got rich off the working class. The fact that if the Weimar Republic had not happened he would have to address Kristoph by a noble title does not make him like the blond any better.
For his part, Kristoph does not appreciate Mander's belief that he was born under a lucky star. Kristoph has buried both his parents, is partially crippled, and attended college to earn a law degree while trying to hold his family's finances and business interests together in the increasingly mad Weimar Republic, and he did it all while raising his little brother. That Mander behaves like Kristoph was born lucky is an irritation; Kristoph feels that this ignores all the hard work he's done.
But Kristoph works hard in the office, and is effective at his job, and Mander can't complain about him in that front. At least, he can't complain until it becomes obvious that somewhere there is an information leak.
"We no longer need to have Herr Gavin here." Mander said. He was in the office of Colonel Hass, discussing the fact that somehow, London knew the movement of the German troops and knew exactly where to bomb. "Let's release him from service, or send him somewhere else to work."
There's a niggling thought in the back of Mander's mind that won't go away: Kristoph Gavin is the one who's stealing information and leaking it to London. He has no proof of this, but he suspects that if Gavin leaves, so will the problem they're having now.
Hass frowned. "You must be losing your mind, Lieutenant. I can't spare Gavin; he does the work of three men. Why don't you go back to finding this leak is coming from, and plugging it up?"
Mander leaves the office five minutes later, discontented.
He just can't shake the feeling that Kristoph Gavin is the spy.
Kristoph's office does not have the information that London is desperate to get its hands on, and they have very few spies in positions as high and important as hiss. Something will have to be done.
"We're gathering a group of underground operatives who have volunteered to poison the water supplies at all of the communications offices in this part of Germany." The silver-blue haired woman in front of him doesn't look very old, so it's a mystery as to why her hair is the color it is.
"Surely you jest." Kristoph replied.
They were sitting at a table in the far corner of a local restaurant. It's busy, which makes them less noticeable.
"I am not joking," She replied. "This foolish scheme was concocted by someone back in London. I'm only here on my way through, to drop a message off. We're planning a coordinated strike on the offices now. We need a few more volunteers for it, but once we have those in place we'll let you know."
"Fraulein von Karma," Kristoph began, with an exaggerated note of patience in his voice. "What exactly do you plan to do once you've poisoned the water? What is London's great plan in all of this?"
"We'll get in and raid the offices, naturally." She said, as though it was simple. "The foolishly foolish fools of the Nazi Party will never know what hit them."
Kristoph smiled politely. "Be sure and let me know which poison you use, so I know how much I can drink without killing myself."
"Are you serious?" She asked.
"What better way to throw off suspicion then to be affected by the poison like everyone else?" He asked, then glanced at the clock on the wall and picked up his cane and light summer coat. "I need to get going or people will start to wonder where I am."
Where are they finding these people these days? He wondered as he stepped back out onto the cobblestone sidewalk. It had been raining all morning and he had been using his cane all day. His knee was starting to get stiff.
At least he wasn't that far from the office. The walk back was wet, but short.
When he arrived back at the office, the first floor was in a flurry, but he didn't stay to find out what was going on. Instead he went down the hall to the stairs and looked at them apprehensively.
Someone grabbed him by the arm, and he swung around to see Corporal Berger standing there. "Gavin, have you heard the news?"
"No I have not heard anything since before I left for lunch."
"Lt. Mander believes there is a spy in our midst!" Berger said breathlessly. Berger was technically part of the Gestapo, a member of the Nazi Party, and overanxious to do his job well. How to get to the next promotion was his main concern; his job was his idea of social climbing.
"You don't say," Kristoph said, still eyeing the stairs. Crawling up them to get to his office would be so undignified. At least Mander had relented late last year and let him down from the third floor to the second. "Does he have any clues to the identity of the spy?"
"No, but some information that was very valuable to the War Effort has ended up in the hands of the British!"
Well done, Calisto. Kristoph thought as he adjusted his glasses, pulled his arm free and put his hand on the handrail, and tightened his grip on the cane.
"Herr Gavin, let me help you." Berger took the arm Kristoph had braced on the railing.
"I will be slow."
"That's fine." Berger said. "I wanted to know if you had any clues as to the identity of the spy."
"I cannot say I have. Doesn't the Gestapo have any idea?" Kristoph asked as they headed up the stairs. They had to go one step at a time, because that was all the faster Kristoph could go. They made it to the top of the staircase, where Berger released Kristoph's arm.
"The only clue we got came when the British suddenly had information on our troop movements that they shouldn't have had. So we think that somehow it must have been a communications office that was breached. But you haven't seen anything suspicious have you?" Berger asked. "I mean, you are sometimes here very late."
"I am here late, but I am in my office working during that time, and I haven't seen anyone when I leave." Kristoph said, adjusting his cane in his hand before limping down the corridor to his office. Berger followed him. "Are you sure the leak isn't closer to ground level? All of the information that goes out of the office, after all, has to go a long way before it arrives at the battlefield."
"We'll be looking into that, I think, if we aren't already. You'll say something if you see anything unusual, won't you?" Berger asked as Kristoph unlocked his office door and stepped inside.
Kristoph gave him a surprised look. "Of course I will! How could I do any less?" He asked as he managed to get his wet jacket off and hung it up on the coat tree. He turned to step to his desk, and his knee finally gave out.
Berger beamed and used a hand to keep his coworker from falling over as Kristoph tried to regain his balance. "I am glad to hear it, Herr Gavin! I will tell Lt. Mander that we have spoken and you will report all suspicious behavior. Heil Hitler!"
"Heil Hitler!" Kristoph replied, but he did not salute as he had made it to his desk by this point and had one hand on his cane and the other on his desk.
But Berger didn't say anything about it; having just helped the other man up the stairs he wasn't expecting Kristoph to do anything other than try and maintain his balance.
Kristoph watched the other man depart, adjusted his glasses again, and decided that being a cripple sometimes had its uses.
Then he sat back down and got back to work. There was no cause to worry about the news of a spy, at least not yet.
~xXx~
Munich, Germany
Summer, 1941
"Why do you have fewer bags then me?" Klavier asked.
Kristoph has been shooting his brother's suspicions down from the moment when Klavier first got up that morning until now and he's starting to get tired of it. He smiles and resists the urge to simply knock Klavier unconscious and drag him onto the train. If that ordinance hadn't happened… "I've taken many more business trips then you have, Klavier. I'm quite the efficient packer."
"Funny, I've been travelling to other countries for years to go to school and I'm pretty good at it too." Klavier noted.
He wants to believe Kristoph. He really does. He would like to stay with his brother somewhere smaller than their house where they can interact with each other a little more and behave like family. But he's been Kristoph's little brother his whole life and he knows when something's wrong and he can't shake the feeling that something is wrong here. Kristoph had been determined to make him go to school in America. Why the sudden change?
"Klavier, you have two extra bags besides your trunk and they aren't large ones. How is that more? Oh, and that." Kristoph nods at the guitar case Klavier is carrying. He had hardly expected his brother to leave it behind; it's been his prized possession since their mother had given it to him a year before she died.
Klavier doesn't look convinced, based on the way he peers over the edges of his sunglasses at his brother, but he turns and boards the train. Kristoph follows him. It's been a sunny day, and is becoming a warm afternoon, so Kristoph carries his cane with his satchel in one hand rather than use it.
The brothers make their way to their compartment on the train. It will become a sleeping compartment later; the train won't get to Kiel until the next morning. Both have their identification documents ready in case they're needed.
The first leg of the journey is uneventful. Kristoph even refrains from getting upset when, after they are in their compartment, Klavier opens his guitar case and fishes The Shoulder Shrug out from under the instrument and proceeds to read it for the first leg of the journey.
Klavier knows better than to push his luck, though, and when the train makes its first stop, he has the book safely tucked away in the guitar case again. He stands to leave; if the train is going to be here awhile, he'd like to at least stretch his legs by walking the station a little.
"Where are you going?" Kristoph asks. He's been looking at the papers he brought with him this entire time, and he doesn't look up from them now.
"The station. I want to walk for a bit." Klavier says, sliding his sunglasses on. "Are you coming?"
"No. I will here." Kristoph replied.
"Alright." Klavier slides his guitar case as far under his seat as it will go, putting it out of his way to make getting in and out of the compartment easier and signifying to Kristoph his intent to return.
The station they've stopped at is small and sparse, but busy. People are rapidly embarking and disembarking, as the conductor calls out the next stop on the route.
Klavier moved in and out of the throngs of people, watching them as he did. That was when he noticed two people, a mother and daughter by appearance, being harried by a guard. He strides closer, to listen in on what is being said.
The guard is examining their papers. "You are both lying!" He spits. "These papers are fraudulent! I will summon the Gestapo."
Both women pale.
"Herr Guard." Klavier says. The man starts to turn, but Klavier puts a hand on his shoulder and keeps him from turning around. "No, do not turn around. You should let them continue on their way."
"Do you want me to call the Gestapo on you also?" The guard threatened.
Klavier made a face. Wouldn't Kristoph just be thrilled if that happened? He could just imagine his brother's reaction. But he suspects he knows what kind of man the guard is. "No, I simply want you to look the other way." He pulled a handful of Reichsmarks from his pocket and held them in front of the man. "Just pretend none of this ever happened."
The guard hesitates for a moment, then pockets the money and walks away. "Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler." Klavier returns.
"How can we ever thank you?" The older woman asks when the guard has gone.
"Pretend it never happened. I was never here." Klavier warns them, before turning and walking away.
When he arrives back in the train compartment five minutes later, Kristoph barely looks up from his papers. "Back so soon?"
"It was a small station." Klavier replied.
"I could have told you that before you got off."
(-)
The last time the two brothers shared any sort of sleeping arrangements had been years ago, before their mother died. Tonight they sleep in separate beds in the same train car.
It's dark; the last lights are out in their compartment, and the only sound is the wheels of the train hitting the tracks below as it speeds towards Kiel. Kristoph is lying on his back, thinking through the plan for the next several days when Klavier speaks.
"Kristoph, how long are we staying in Kiel?"
In the dark he can't see his little brother. There's a small table between the beds, too, that in the dark makes the tiny distance between them seem further. "If I had known the answer before we left Munich I would have told you more specifically what to pack."
Klavier falls silent, and Kristoph's curiosity gets the better of him. "Why do you ask?"
"I just thought it would be nice if we did stay in Kiel and get an apartment there. We…we could spend more time together. It would be more like being family." Klavier admitted.
Kristoph experiences a feeling he hasn't felt in years: guilt. Klavier is to him what's left of his family, but Kristoph remembers what it was like to have parents. Klavier has very limited recollections of his parents; to him Kristoph is his only family.
He's really glad they aren't having they aren't having this conversation in the daylight.
"We'll see how things turn out, Klavier. Now go to sleep." Kristoph orders, but there's no bite to his voice.
Long after he can hear Klavier's even breathing in the other bed, Kristoph lies awake and looks at the dark ceiling. The rhythmic sound of the wheels on the tracks reminds him that Kiel and the ship that Klaiver to America are drawing closer all the time.
[A/N:] Don't you just love those shows where a character is excitedly informing the spy that they're looking for him? Yeah, I don't understand that either. But the irony is really good. Hey Franziska! What brings you to Europe these days? Does Edgeworth know you're a spy for the Allies? Franziska's an Interpol agent in the Investigations game, so I thought she could be some kind of agent working for the Allies behind enemy lines in this story.
Way to engage in oblivious guilt slinging, Klavier! I wasn't sure what to do for the sleeper car – I had to describe it this time, unlike last time. Initially I was going to have them have bunk-style beds. Of course, Klavier would be up top. Kristoph wouldn't be. But there are other types of sleeper cars, if my research is correct, and they could have side by side beds.
As far as Klavier not believing Kristoph, in the one case in the Apollo Justice game both the judge and Apollo get hung up while Kristoph is on the witness stand, and the only way they get out of it is that Klavier points out that Kristoph is bluffing. Based on that, I presume for the sake of this story that Klavier has the ability to see through his brother's crap, which makes sense. I mean, they're brothers, they lived together, they would have a pretty good read on each other. (Good thing Klavier was the prosecutor or Apollo's case woulda sunk! Incidentally, I'm not sure that in the real world, Klavier would have been allowed to cross-examine his brother. Usually I think that's the point where a special prosecutor not related to the witness gets called in, but I have no proof of that, and may be crazy wrong.)
Golly, 25 chapters. What's wrong with me? When was the last time I wrote this much fanfiction? Oh wait, never. In word and chapter count, this one tops my other stories. Hm. Did not see that coming.
Please review, and I'll see you in Chapter 26! (Yeah... we are not done yet…)