Chapter 25

Braun thought about Burkhalter for a minute. That was the most time he decided to waste on the unimportant Luftwaffe officer. He had more important things on his agenda which required his attention. The threat by the large General did not improve his mood one bit. In fact, it made his mood worse. He straightened up in his chair and picked up the receiver. "Get me Sergeant Schafer and be quick about it." Nobody ordered or threatened him, especially an overweight Luftwaffe General.

"Sergeant Schafer here, Mein Herr."

"Sergeant, I wish to interrogate a prisoner named Toller in his cell. You will see to it he is ready."

"Do you wish him to be hung from the wall, Herr Major?"

"Nein. Tied to a chair will do. I will be there shortly. Heil Hitler." Braun hung up before Schafer could reply. He opened a lower desk drawer, and removed the bag containing his knives, then got to his feet. He didn't know if he would use them right now, it depended how the interrogation went. But he always liked to be prepared. With a smirk, he left his office.

Corporal Toller was seated on the hard mattress staring around the dismal, chilly cell in which he was confined. Right now he preferred the barracks of Stalag 13 and wished he was there. His mind turned to Sergeant Dray and Lieutenant Carpenter. He had not seen or heard from either of them since their incarceration, and wondered if they were still alive. He ran his hands down his face before leaning back and crossing his arms. His stomach rumbled from hunger reminding him he had not eaten since before his arrest. Was it the Gestapo's intent to starve him to death? Starvation was an ugly way to die. The sound of footsteps nearing his cell caught his attention.

A Gestapo Sergeant, accompanied by two guards; one with an automatic weapon, the other holding a wooden chair and a length of rope, stood outside his cell door. The Sergeant unlocked the iron door and pulled it open allowing the others to enter. He pulled his own weapon from its holster.

"On your feet, Schwein," he ordered coldly.

Toller hesitated watching the guard holding the chair and rope sit the chair in the middle of the cell. The guard stood at a short distance waiting and holding the rope. He glared at Toller who remained seated.

Schafer approached Toller, roughly seized the front of the Corporal's shirt, and yanked him to his feet. "I said on your feet, Schwein! Do as your told!"

"All right," Toller replied trying to stay calm. He yanked Schafer's hands away. "No need to get rough." He sat down in the wooden chair watching the other guard with the automatic weapon standing beside the open door. At once, the guard with the rope tied his arms and body to the chair so tightly he found it hard to breathe. "Am I gonna have company or something?"

Schafer smirked. "You will soon find out soon, Dreckschwein."(1) His words chilled Toller to the bone.

At that moment, an impressive looking man carrying a bag entered the cell. This man sent a greater chill through Toller than any words. In fact, he felt he was staring at the devil himself, and swallowed the lump in his throat. The man approached the worn wooden table and lay the bag on it before turning away and approaching him, hands behind his back.

"I am Major Braun. You are Corporal Michael Toller, correct?" the devil asked.

"Toller. Michael. Corporal. Serial number 0412959."

The devil chuckled as he paced back and forth in front of him. Tell me, Corporal Toller, who was with you at the plant you destroyed?"

"Toller. Michael. Corporal. Serial number 0412959."

Without warning, Toller received a vicious backhand across the face causing stars to appear.

"Don't play games with me, Schwein. I want to know who helped you destroy the synthetic oil plant outside Hammelburg."

After he rotated his jaw to make sure it still worked, Toller glared at the man. "Drop dead!" he hissed.

Braun chuckled. "Your Lieutenant Carpenter was as stubborn as you are. But he eventually told me everything after one of my more creative sessions."

Toller's eyes narrowed. He wondered what this man had done to the Lieutenant. But not once did he believe Carpenter broke. The Gestapo were known for their lies.

"You're a liar!" Toller shouted. His response resulted in a blow to his jaw from the guard who had tied him to the chair. His head snapped backward and fell forward. He shook his head, glared for a minute at the guard, and turned back to Braun.

"Now Corporal, I understand you're upset finding out one of your own talked. But surely you can understand why. The Lieutenant broke at the first sign of pain. Then again, the pain he felt from the beatings was nothing compared to the pain from my more intense session."

"I don't…believe you. The Lieutenant would not break no matter what you did to him."

"Everybody has a breaking point, Corporal."

"Not Lieutenant Carpenter."

Braun's face darkened. These Americans were unbelievably stupid and hardheaded. He nodded at the guard near the chair.

That guard descended on Toller viciously beating him until the Corporal bleed from nearly everywhere on his face and upper torso. After ten minutes, Braun gestured for him to stop. He approached Toller who looked dazed from the beating.

Toller grimaced as he tried to breathe and felt one or two of his ribs were at least cracked, if not broken. His head lolled to the side. But he felt somebody seize his hair and jerk his head back so he could look into the devil's eyes.

"This is a taste of what will happen to you if you don't talk, Corporal," Braun explained. "I told you your Lieutenant told me everything. But he passed out before he told me the names of his accomplices. You will give me those names."

Toller reached back into the recesses of his mouth, and spat in Braun's face. That act of defiance caused the guard who had earlier beat him to pounce on him again with another beating more vicious than the first. How dare this American insult a Gestapo Major.

"Stop!" Braun demanded after wiping the spittle from his face. The guard stepped back. Braun, seething, grabbed Toller's jaw, holding the man's head still. One of the Corporal's eyes was beginning to swell shut and he appeared barely conscious. "I will have to teach you respect for the Gestapo." Shoving Toller's head away, Braun walked over to the table and untied the string around the bag. He unfurled it to show his pride and joy. He picked up the first one, turned, and approached the Corporal. He looked at the guard and smiled evilly. "Hold his head still."

The guard wrapped an arm around Toller's throat and with his other hand, grabbed him by the hair holding his head still. Braun placed the tip of his knife on the man's cheek under the right eye which was swelling shut.

Toller's scream echoed in the small cell and the empty hallway.

In barracks two, Hogan ran both hands down his face as he sat at his desk. He needed to be doing something. The longer the men were in Braun's hands, the less likely they will be alive by the time they got them back. He was more concerned for his godson though. He knew how the Gestapo was when they had an officer in their hands. For all he knew, Toller and Dray might still be alive, and Terry could be dead.

No. I can't think that. I can't let myself go there. He's not dead. And we will get them back. Once we do, they will recover, and will be sent to London. Hogan laid both arms on top of the desk, and rested his forehead on top of his arms. What was I thinking?

A knock on his door made him raise his head. "Come in," he ordered straightening up on his seat. The door opened and Kinch walked in quietly. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing yet, Colonel. Sorry." The radioman's eyes showed the concern he felt for the three men, and for his commanding officer. "Colonel, I know you're worried because of Braun. We all are. But it hasn't been that long since we got word to Damien about Dusseldorf. And he did say he will leave two men to keep an eye on Hammelburg Gestapo just in case. He just hasn't heard anything from his contacts in Dusseldorf yet."

Hogan stared at his folded hands on top of his desk. "I know, Kinch, I know. I guess I need something. This sitting around is getting to me." He massaged his forehead as a pounding headache had begun. "Also, I don't know what I'm going to tell General Carpenter if the worse case scenario should happen."

"I know it's hard, Colonel. But try to think positive and believe we'll get them back."

Hogan, his hand resting on his forehead, turned his head in Kinch's direction. A small smile appeared. "I'll try. But every moment they're with Braun, makes it harder and harder. But I promise you I'll try."

Kinch let a small smile appear. "I better get back below, sir. Segal's good, but I want to monitor the radio until we get the men back. It's nothing against Segal, but I need the distraction."

Hogan waved a hand in his direction dismissively. "No need to explain. I understand."

Kinch turned, started toward the door, and gripped the doorknob. He paused and looked back. "Colonel, you haven't eaten in two days and you look exhausted. Why don't you let LeBeau fix you something, then get some rest. We'll wake you when there's something to report. I promise."

"I'm not hungry, Kinch. And I can't sleep without seeing Terry and the others being tortured by Braun with his special technique."

Kinch sighed. "Begging the Colonel's pardon. You're gonna make yourself sick. And if you do, you won't be able to help Terry and the others once we get news. Please sir."

Hogan sighed wearily. "Fine. Tell LeBeau to fix me a sandwich and a cup of coffee."

Kinch grinned. "Then you'll lay down and get some rest afterwards?"

"Don't press your luck, Sergeant," he chuckled.

Braun stood back from Toller after he had wiped his second knife on the Corporal's trousers, and studied the unconscious man. His screams replayed in the Major's mind.

Toller's head hung limply with cuts to both cheeks from below his eyes to his jaw line. Another cut ran along his forehead from left to right, and another across his chin beneath his lower lip. Blood oozed from the cuts which weren't deep. The Corporal's shirt hung open and a swastika had been carved into his chest. The carving was deeper than the other cuts, and blood trickled down the man's chest.

"This man knows nothing," Braun announced with disgust as he tied the bag. "Sergeant Schafer…"

Schafer stepped forward and saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Major?"

"Untie the prisoner. However, he will remain here until I am completely satisfied he knows nothing."

"Jawohl. Any other orders?"

"Yes. When you are done here, we will visit the cell of Sergeant Dray and find out what he knows. I will wait outside."

"Jawohl, Mein Herr."

After Braun walked out of the cell with the guard holding the automatic weapon, Schafer and the remaining guard untied Toller. They shoved his body from the chair and onto the floor where he lay unmoving. The faint rising and falling of his chest showed he was still alive. They left the cell and Schafer locked the door before he and the guard joined the others.

Sergeant Walter Dray sat on his small bunk in his cell and had heard the screams. He shivered wondering who it had been. Corporal Toller? Lieutenant Carpenter? He hadn't seen either of them in two days. Could there be other prisoners here? Whoever screamed, the agony had to be excruciating. It made Dray cringe at the intense pain this person must be in to scream as he did. He wondered if he might scream that way when they came for him and he was tortured. Dray suspected he might not have long to wait when the sound of footsteps got closer. He stared nervously at the barred door to see a Gestapo officer accompanied by three guards appear in front of the bars and look at him. The officer had a smirk on his face which sent chills down the American's spine.

"Unlock the door, Sergeant," the officer ordered. As the German Sergeant unlocked the door, Dray studied the officer and noticed he wore the insignia of a Major. He began to wonder if this was Major Braun.

As the Germans entered the cell, Dray noticed one of the guards carried a chair and rope, both with drops of fresh blood on them. That guard put the chair on the floor and waited.

"I am Major Braun, Sergeant Dray. I apologize for not visiting you sooner," Braun said sarcastically.

Dray swallowed hard. "I didn't mind."

Braun smiled deviously. "How nice that you have a sense of humor. Let's see how amusing you really are. Have a seat in the chair, bitte."

Dray looked at the chair and back at Braun. "I prefer to stay where I am."

Braun chuckled before nodding at the guard near the chair. The guard, a Sergeant, roughly grabbed a handful of Dray's shirt and jerked the man to his feet before dropping him on the wooden chair. The guard proceeded to tie Dray up as he had Toller before standing back a step or two.

Dray looked up at Braun. "Where's Lieutenant Carpenter and Corporal Toller?"

"I might be more concerned about my own wellbeing if I were you," Braun explained as he walked towards the table and lay down his bag. His reply told Dray at least Carpenter and Toller were still alive. The Major turned back to face his prisoner. "Now, you and I are going to have a nice long talk."

"First answer my question. Where's Lieutenant Carpenter and Corporal Toller?"

"They are resting," Braun replied with a smirk. "Their interrogations were, shall we say, a bit intense and somewhat exhausting."

"The blood drops on this chair and rope are fresh. What did you do to them?"

"I am not here to answer your questions. Now, you are going to tell me who was with you when you destroyed the plant outside Hammelburg."

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

"That's not what I asked, Sergeant." Braun's eyes hardened. "I want the names of your accomplices who helped you destroy the synthetic oil plant."

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

Braun shook his head. "You Americans are always so difficult. Since you want to be difficult, I will be glad to oblige you." He nodded to his Sergeant, turned, and took a few steps away.

The guard's fist connected with Dray's jaw and stomach over and over until Dray heard a crack, realizing a rib had been broken, or was at least cracked. Blood ran down his chin. After a few minutes Braun gestured for him to stop. As the guard stepped back, the Major came closer. "That is a taste of what you will experience if you don't answer my questions. Or if you persist in refusing to answer my questions, I will be forced to make things unpleasant for you."

Dray coughed and nearly choked on the blood from the cut inside his mouth. He spit the blood out onto the floor and glared up into Braun's face. "Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514."

"Sergeant. I think I should inform you that Corporal Toller and Lieutenant Carpenter told me everything before they died. If you want, I can show you their bodies before…."

"Liar!" Dray shouted despite his split lips. "I don't believe you! Neither of them would tell you a damn thing!" He didn't respond to the possibility that the others might be dead and he was now alone.

Braun shook his head and motioned to the Sergeant again. Without warning, the German reached out a large bloodied hand, gripped Dray by the throat, and squeezed. Dray made wheezing noises when his air supply was cut. The grip tightened around his throat. He couldn't breathe. The vision around the edges of his eyes became dark and fuzzy. Suddenly the pressure around his throat was gone. Dray coughed several times as he struggled to get air back into his lungs. But the possible cracked or broken rib made taking deep breaths difficult. Hunched over in his chair, Dray painfully lifted his head and glared at Braun again.

"Bastard," he muttered shakily; Braun chuckled.

"I will ask you one more time, Sergeant. Who were your accomplices? Who ordered you to destroy the plant?"

"Dray. Walter. Sergeant. Serial number 0376514," Dray whispered in defiance.

"Fool!" Braun hissed. He turned and walked toward the table knowing Dray's eyes were following him. The Major untied the string and unrolled the bag. Glancing back over his shoulder, he smiled evilly at Dray and stepped aside so the American could see the knives. Braun held up the smaller knife and examined it carefully before turning back to the prisoner. He walked toward the prisoner and saw the fear in the man's eyes which were on the blade. "Now Sergeant, shall we begin again?" he asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Dray. Walt…" Dray began to repeat before suddenly hissing with pain as the blade made contact with his flesh just below the ribcage.

Kinch had been below in the radio room having relieved Segal over an hour ago. The other man did not object when Kinch told him he was relieving him. He understood and didn't question the Staff Sergeant. Instead, he went to another part of the tunnels to see if he could help with something. Now alone, Kinch struggled to concentrate on the magazine in front of him, and found he had been reading the same line over and over for nearly thirty minutes. He tossed the magazine on the floor in anger when the radio suddenly came to life. Adjusting his headset, Kinch snatched up a pencil and his pad and began to copy the message as a deep frown appeared on his face. Colonel Hogan is not going to like this, he told himself as he continued writing.

(1) Dreckschwein means filthy pig. Thanks to Pen-or-Sword for the translation.