*Hello everyone! Thank you for being so patient. It's been a crazy year for me and I'm glad to welcome the new year. Here is my holiday gift to you all. I will try to write more regularly next year. Have a wonderful year 2020!
*Since I wanted to deliver Chapter 27 in time, I had to skip the fan Q&A. I will continue to collect more questions and perhaps post a separate Q&A page before publishing Chapter 28. Please feel free to PM me or post on the review section.
*Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters portrayed by Ralph Finnes & Embeth Davidtz in the movie "Schindler's List" and is purely fiction. I do not support Nazi ideology. *
Chapter 27: Paris
"Bonjour mademoiselle!" Monsieur Luze exclaims as he slightly bows and gently kiss Helen's right hand. Helen is taken aback by such animated chivalry. She shyly smiles in return.
Monsieur Luze guides Helen towards the center of his office where two emerald colored velvet chairs are placed along with an Art Deco style coffee table.
"Coffee or tea?" Monsieur Luze asks.
"Tea, please," Helen quietly answers.
As Monsieur Luze make a quick call to his secretary for refreshments, Helen hopes that he didn't notice her hesitation. As a Jew, courtesy isn't something she is used to receiving. Good manners towards a Jew? You will be lucky to be ignored, rather than to catch a Nazi's unwanted attention and be treated worse than a dog.
A human condition that can't be erased completely.
"I hope you had a comfortable trip. Did Herr Goeth come with you?" Monsieur Luze asks in German.
Helen snaps out of her own thoughts. She's surprised to hear Monsieur Luze's fluent German with no hint of any French accent.
Was he raised in Germany?
"Yes, Monsieur…"
"Victor, please. Call me Victor."
Another friendly gesture.
Would he be so kind if he knew who I was?
"…Victor. He did. But today he opted to meet some of his ex colleagues from Vienna that are stationed in Paris."
Helen and Amon arrived in Paris the night before and went straight to the hotel from the train station. Helen was slightly disappointed not to tour the city. But she was also happy to finally rest after a long exhausting travel. Security was extremely tight with numerous check points. On one hand, Helen couldn't deny being fortunate to be traveling with the Commandant. He guaranteed her safety. At the same time, she also felt her freedom depended on the deal she made with the devil.
Everything comes with a price.
When they arrived, Helen realized that Felix arranged for them to stay together by booking the grandest suite in the hotel. A large luxurious living room connected two separate bedrooms that came with its own marble bathrooms. Helen felt odd about the arrangement. She'd rather have opted for a smaller privet room, away from the Commandant. What's Felix's intention? Simply to provide comfort or perhaps security? Helen tried to shake off any speculations. She came here to help Felix and that is what she will focus on.
The next morning, Helen woke to find the Commandant already gone. As she ate her breakfast at the downstairs restaurant, Helen wondered if the Commandant finds the whole situation as absurd as she does. But no one told him to come. He volunteered.
Why?
Helen already knew the Commandant was a control freak, especially when it involved her. It bordered being obsessive. Their relationship was already uncomfortable, but that night in his childhood room heightened the tension even more.
When Helen returned to the suite, the phone rang. Monsieur Luze's secretary in her thick French accent told Helen in German that the limousine will be coming to pick her up in the next 2 hours and to wait at the hotel lobby. Helen quickly got prepared with a tiny hint of excitement. She was in Paris after all.
And the city didn't disappoint her. During the ride to Monsieur Luze's office, Helen couldn't take her eyes off the gorgeous view of Paris.
I am truly fortunate.
Is this why he sent me to Paris?
Helen carefully places the leather briefcase on top of the coffee table. She gently gives it a push towards Victor.
"Merci," Victor says as he turns the front of the briefcase towards him. He reaches into his inner pocket and pulls out his own set of keys. With a swift click, the suitcase opens, and Helen catches a glimpse of the content. To her disappointment, there is nothing but papers. Victor quickly scans the documents and nods in approval.
"Thank you so much for bringing such important documents all the way to Paris. I'm sure Felix will be most pleased with the business deal we are about to accomplish," Victor says with a smile.
Helen smiles back.
"I must take you out for lunch. Today I will be your personal guide around the city. Let's see how much we can do in one day! Amon wouldn't mind that, would he?" Victor asks with a wink.
Helen feels her heart pound with excitement.
"I need to make a few quick phone calls before we head out. I will have my secretary show you around our company while waiting. Hope you don't mind a slight delay in our adventure, mademoiselle?"
"No, not at all."
"Perfect! I will be with you very soon."
As soon as Helen leaves his office, Monsieur Luze's closes the door and heads straight to the phone. Waiting for the operator to connect him to Vienna, Victor reminds himself to be careful with his words. Though never proven, he strongly believes everyone's phone in Paris is tapped.
Keep it short.
"Bonjour, Felix."
"Ah, Victor. How are you?"
"Bien. The package was well received. The deal is complete. You won't be disappointed."
"Thank you so much. I appreciate your efforts."
Victor clears his throat as he continues in a low tone.
"Felix, are you sure that she can be trusted with such… important papers?"
"She is a bright girl. Leopold is also with her. All is well."
"You have a lot of faith in this mademoiselle. Are you sure she couldn't have understood the content and perhaps.…"
"She will never disappoint me," Felix quickly answers back.
"Your trust in her is quite remarkable."
Victor can feel Felix's hesitation. But he had to know. So many lives depended on these documents. One wrong move could mean a public execution for both him and Felix. So why, a careful person such as Felix Goeth trust his estranged son's girlfriend on such mission?
"She is a blue rose, Victor." Felix replies quietly.
Victor nearly drops the phone receiver.
"What?"
"A precious child."
Victor manages to connect the dots and finally make sense of the bigger picture. It's almost a miracle that this girl is still alive. For Lena, or whatever her real name might be, will not compromise herself by ratting out an Résistance. In fact, she would be quite pleased with the scheme she has inadvertently got herself involved in. Victor also realizes why Amon is traveling with her. Felix Goeth will never make an uncalculated move.
"My… that's… extraordinary," Victor finally replies.
"Show Lena a good time around Paris. That girl needs it."
"Indeed, I will."
"Merci pour tout."
Amon lights a cigarette. He tries to at least pretend to be amused by the joke his fellow Nazi officers are laughing together about. But his mind is elsewhere. Since arriving in Paris 2 days ago, Amon kept his own schedule apart from Helen's. Subconsciously, Amon was avoiding her.
The after effect of her defiance he experienced back in Vienna still lingered. Amon realizes that she can't be controlled anymore, either by the threat of death or physical pain. The promise of keeping her alive has become a useless bargaining chip.
Helen has become indestructible.
Amon takes a long drag on his cigarette. He is baffled by her refusal to leave.
Why?
Amon stares at the plate before him.
Wishful thinking?
No. Don't be delusional.
Amon scans the large restaurant to escape his thoughts. His eyes travel up the large magnificent chandelier hanging right above the dance floor in the middle of the room. For a while, Amon is mesmerized by the light shining through the numerous crystals. His eyes continue to move until it reaches the other side of the restaurant.
To his surprise, Amon immediately spots Helen.
Helen … smiling?
Amon recognizes the man sitting across from Helen, Victor Luze, his father's business partner in Paris. Amon met him a couple of times in his youth, but never considered Victor as an impressionable person. Amon watches Victor talking quite animatedly, his hands flying in the air almost in a comical, exaggerated manner. Helen covers her mouth as she laughs. Jealous starts boiling inside of Amon.
Is she simply being polite?
Amon clutches his fist. It's ridiculous to think that Helen can be attracted to a man old enough to be her grandfather. But Amon doesn't care. He can't stand the sight of Helen having such a pleasant time with any other man.
"Excuse me fellas, I see an old friend of my father. I better go and say hello."
Amon excuses himself from the group as he gets up from his chair. He marches straight towards Helen and Victor's table, snarling with rage.
"Ah, Amon! It's been ages since I've last seen you!" Victor exclaims.
Helen swiftly turns around to see the Commandant towering over her. Victor gets up from his seat and tries to shake Amon's hand. Amon reluctantly returns the gesture.
French fuck.
Before Victor can offer, Amon sits himself right next to Helen who immediately casts her eyes down. Victor carefully observes this odd couple in front of him; the blushing Jewess with her irascible Nazi officer. Victor isn't at all insulted by the acid look Amon throws at him. Victor finds the entire situation amusing. His biggest question of how this mysterious young lady managed to escape death and is able to survive is finally answered.
Ah, youth! How wonderful it is to be young and full of passion.
"How is your visit so far?" Victor finally asks.
"I've been catching up with some old friends," Amon answers dryly.
"Ah, hope you are enjoying Paris as much as we are. Renews my appreciation towards the city. I'm afraid I've exhausted Lena too much in the past two days," Victor says smiling at Helen.
Helen continues to look down at the table, while Amon's chest visibly rises high and low.
Victor looks over Amon's shoulder and sees the restaurant band start to gather towards the dance floor, prepping their instruments. Excitement runs through the restaurant, as couples wait for the moment to hit the dance floor.
Victor suddenly feels like a naughty schoolboy.
Let's have some fun with these kids.
"Lena, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?" Victor asks Helen with a grin.
Helen looks up, bewildered by Victor's request. Amon can't contain his fury anymore. Without saying a word, Amon gets up from his chair, grabs Helen by the arm and walks into the dancing crowd that has gathered on the dance floor. Victor watches them with a touch of satisfaction.
Does he know how much he is in love with her?
It will be interesting to meet Felix in person someday and hear the entire story.
Helen can't believe the extraordinary situation she finds herself in. Of all the twists and turns in her life, this by far is the most absurd.
Dancing with the devil in the middle of Paris.
Amon on the other hand, feels triumphant, taking control again. The whole trip felt like it was operated by his father's invisible hands. On top of that, the French fuck is enjoying his time with Helen… even making her happy.
After all that I did for her, she never smiled once.
What was it that French fuck did in 2 days that I can't achieve in years?
Amon looks down at Helen and realizes that his relationship with her is by far the longest he had with any woman. Because of what Ingrid did, Amon's insecurities and distrust towards women since his mother's disappearance exploded. From then on, Amon treated the series of women he bedded like buses, taking short rides at a time. No one remained memorable.
And here, he is dancing with a Jewess, whom wishes to remain by his side.
Because she enjoys my company?
Amon chuckles at the ridiculousness of such thought.
Sure, she does.
Helen wonders what caused the Commandant to laugh, but keeps her eyes fixed on the button on his shirt as she follows his step around the dance floor.
Suddenly, Helen feels him leaning towards her right ear. She can smell the whiskey from his warm breath.
"Once we return to Vienna, you are leaving to Switzerland. That's an order," Amon whispers.
Helen's neck stiffens and clenches her hand on Amon's shoulder into a fist.
Another attempt to control me.
Death didn't frighten Helen anymore. Like most Jews, Helen accepted the possibility of her demise since the beginning of the war. She was fully aware that she was living on borrowed time. An escape to Switzerland doesn't guarantee safety. Was she going to be on the run all her life? And what would the purpose of surviving be? All her friends and family were dead.
My time is not far away either.
Her trip to Paris so far has been one of the most memorable moments in Helen's short life. The beauty of the city and its extraordinary wonders gave Helen enough happy memories to live off of until her inescapable death sentence is served. Perhaps she can die here, tonight, in the city she instantly fell in love with.
Helen straightens her back and gently pulls away from the Commandant. She looks up, locking her eyes with his.
"No, sir."
Amon tries to remain calm, conscious of the crowd surrounding them. But his anger is hard to control.
"If I am being a nuisance to you, I'd rather be disposed of," Helen says without missing a beat.
Amon is taken aback by Helen's boldness. Unexpectedly, a wave of sadness enters Amon's heart.
"I never…your death isn't something I want."
The beatings, the insults, the everyday fear I had to endure… what was that then?
Amon sees disgust flash cross Helen's eyes. Her reaction infuriates him. A Jewess dares to give him commands! Amon pulls Helen towards him, slamming her tiny body against his.
"So, is this what I get in return? Unappreciation. Fine, Helen. You made your choice," Amon growls into Helen's ear.
Helen feels the Commandant's hand slowly slide down towards her bottom, squeezing it tightly in a sexual manner. Helen is terrified and embarrassed… similar to when the Commandant cupped her breast in the basement back at the villa. Helen is well aware of the consequence of staying with the Commandant. But she has her own secret card. Will he ever touch a Jewess and risk his loyalty to the Nazi party?
Forever be tainted by a Jew… a dirt that can never be cleansed…
But Helen also reminds herself that the Commandant has already risked his position by bringing her to Vienna. As time goes on, Helen wonders whether to view his action as personal perversion or …
Can this be what they call…
Helen still feels the Commandant's tight grip on her bottom. Their battle of wills has reached its peak tonight. He wants control and she remain stubborn. If he wants, the Commandant can drag Helen out of the restaurant back to the hotel and beat the day lights out of her…or worst.
But he doesn't seem to want that. He never did anything to her since leaving Poland. Now forcing her to escape to Switzerland, the monster wants her to escape his clutch towards freedom.
What does he really want?
Helen feels exhausted. She's tired of fighting, guessing and running. She doesn't want this beautiful day in Paris to end in pain or anger. She turns her head to the side and spots a young couple dancing, gazing into each other's eyes, not being able to stop smiling. Such simple moment of happiness. Helen yearns for that too. A slice of contentment.
Tame the beast.
Helen slowly rests her forehead on Amon's chest.
Peace.
Amon's heart nearly skips a beat from Helen's unexpected move. He feels the tension of Helen's body fade away through his fingertips.
She's worn out.
Amon quickly releases his hand from her bottom and holds Helen body up. He hears Helen let out a long tiresome sigh.
Cease fire.
For a moment, Amon and Helen quietly dance. Despite the crowded dance floor, Amon feels alone with Helen. He's never felt so close to another woman before. It's the mutual desire they both share tonight; to enjoy the moment of tranquility away from the madness of the world. Amon doesn't care that he is dancing with a Jewess surrounded by his fellow Nazi officers.
No, I'm not with a Jew.
I'm with Helen.
Amon stops dancing. He gently pulls away from Helen and calmly cradles her face with both of his hands.
Dazed, Helen looks up to the Commandant's intense eyes. It isn't the usual hate or lust she has witnessed in the past. A new set of gaze enraptures her; a tender look of longing.
What does he see in her eyes?
Mon amour.
Soon the Commandant's face comes close and he gently presses his lips against Helen's, like a light feather landing on one's coat. Helen thinks she can hear her heart beat to the point of exploding out of her chest. Everything else around her has faded out; the crowd, the music, the world.
Amon waits for Helen to react. Will she push him away, slap or spit on him?
Helen's stillness emboldens Amon. He wants to go further. Amon intensifies the kiss, parting Helen's soft lips with his tongue, bursting sweetness into her mouth. Helen gasps for air and tries to catch her breath. Confusion runs throughout her body not knowing how to react to the Commandant's passionate kiss.
Amon notices her hesitation.
This is her first kiss.
Aroused by the revelation, Amon puts his arms around Helen and kisses her harder, as if to plant his own seal onto hers. To avoid being knocked over, Helen holds herself up by grabbing on the Commandant's arms. Her touch intensifies Amon even more.
Do you want me as much as I do of you?
Amon rubs his lips roughly against Helen's.
We can, tonight.
Suddenly the national emergency siren blasts throughout the city. People stop dancing, talking and eating. The band freeze from playing their tune. Amon and Helen break from their spell, startled at the change of the atmosphere around them.
A young Nazi officer runs into the restaurant, waving one arm towards the band while carrying a radio in the other.
"An announcement from Berlin! An announcement from Berlin!"
People start talking among themselves while watching the young Nazi officer plug the radio to the nearest wall outlet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you tonight…it has just been announced…our Führer is dead!"
Men gasp and women start screaming. The young officer turns the radio power switch on and dials the volume to its fullest. The breaking news delivered in both German and French blasts throughout the restaurant. It is confirmed. Hitler died just a few hours ago.
Dead?
Helen finds the news impossible to believe. The radio gives no detail of what has happened. What does this mean? Will the war resume? Is Paris under attack? Chaos erupts and the young officer again shouts above the crowd.
"For all the officers present tonight, please report to your stations immediately. France is in a state of emergency. I repeat!"
Amon grabs Helen's upper arm and looks directly into her panic filled eyes.
"Helen, go back to the hotel. Stay there, don't answer the phone or the door. I'll be back once I figure out what the fuck is going on."
Helen nods her head, still in the state of shock. She feels the Commandant's hands slip away, taking his warmth with him. Helen doesn't take her eyes off Amon, watching the back of his uniform disappear into the crowd.