Chapter 58

The sunrise dyed the sky in beautiful oranges and pinks as it slowly rose. Gil watched it, the wall casting a giant cold shadow, keeping the light from touching him. He winced, trying to figure out where each of the bullets had hit. He gasped from pain, breathing growing more and more difficult, though his lungs weren't damaged. The bleeding was slowing as he started to heal. He closed his eyes, hearing footsteps running towards him. It was only one man. He tried to stop struggling, hoping the man would drag him back to the east side through the gate and he could get away. He felt a boot hit his stomach, and cried out, looking up at the man.

The soldier froze, taking a step back, looking down at Gil, pulling his gun away, "Herr Beilschmidt?" The man asked, staring down at him.

"Geiszler?" Gil whispered, looking up at him, shocked.

"What are you… doing here?"

Gil didn't answer, looking back at the man, not moving.

"I should report this…" Geiszler took a step back towards the tower.

"Nein, das sollten Sie nicht! (No you should not!)" Gil looked up at him, shaking his head.

Geiszler turned, "You know, the last time I saw you you held a gun to my head…"

"An empty gun…" Gil whispered, his voice choked with pain.

"You said I impressed you…"

"You did," Gil nodded.

"You said you would mention me for promotion, and… well, I suppose you did…" Geiszler looked up at the tower, then back down at Gil, lowering his gun.

There was silence for a moment before Geiszler spoke again.

"I shouldn't let you go back… I could get in trouble."

"I won't let you get in trouble, soldier, I promise."

"What are you doing here?" Geiszler asked, aiming his gun back at Gil.

"I can't tell you that. I'm sorry, Soldier," Gil turned to his side, forcing himself to stand.

"How… how are you…?" Geiszler looked at the blood on Gil's shirt.

"Again, I'm afraid I can't tell you. Now, there's no need to report this…" Gil tried to steady himself, gripping his side, wincing, "Just go back to your post, Soldier."

"I don't know if I can just let you go back to-"

"Soldier! I can't explain to you what's going on, and if you ask me again you can be sure I will get you into trouble for not following orders!" Gil snapped, standing up as straight as he could.

"Jawohl!" Geiszler stood straight, saluting Gil.

Gil smiled, nodding to him, taking a step towards the gate, stumbling forwards.

Geiszler caught him, helping him stand again, "Aren't you hurt, Herr Beilschmidt? Can I get you any help?"

Gil shook his head, standing straight again, "Nein, Danke," he forced himself to walk, putting one foot in front of the other, gripping his side where the worst pain tore through him. He didn't look back at Geiszler, hearing the man running towards the guard tower again. He just hoped he would keep his mouth shut.

…

Gil dragged himself into Gisela's hotel room, and into the bathroom. He pulled off the leather jacket, dropping it to the ground, and tore off his shirt, looking in the mirror at the damage. Nine shots, two in his side, one in his back, two in his leg, and four in his chest. He pressed into the wounds, wincing hard, keeping back a cry of pain, setting his jaw. Only one of the bullets, one in his leg, had gone all the way through. He growled in frustration, pulling a knife out of his pocket and setting his gun on the bathroom counter.

Gil limped to the shower, sitting in it and ripping open the leg of his pants, looking down at the damage. He looked down at the wound and felt for the bullet deep inside it. He closed his eyes for a moment, setting his jaw, trying to force himself to breathe normally. He looked at his hands. They were already shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, trying to steady his hands. He picked up the knife again, turning to the wound in his leg. He pressed the tip of the knife into the wound, gritting his teeth, his breath shaking with pain. He cut into the wound, giving space to pry out the bullet. He tried to remind himself he didn't have any other choice. He couldn't risk going to a hospital. It would take too long, and he would have to answer too many questions. He pulled the bullet from the wound with shaking fingers, dropping it onto the tile shower floor. He leaned against the back wall, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes again. He had seven more to go. He looked down at one of the holes in his side and pressed the knife into the wound.

Gil leaned back against the shower wall again, panting, sweating. Blood dripped down his chest and arms. He didn't know how he'd reached the wound in his back, but he'd done it. He looked back down at his hands, dropping the knife. They were shaking even more than before. He felt sick, shaking from pain. Slowly, carefully, he reached up to turn on the shower.

Cold water hit his chest. He cried out in pain but didn't move, letting it wash away all the blood. He watched it swirl down the drain, and slid down the wall until he laid on his back, bringing his good let up against the shower wall, bending his knees. He wanted to sleep. The water hit the wall above his head, sending soft misty spray back into his face. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe, trying to let himself rest just for a little while… He sat up again finally, dragging himself to his feet, rinsing the last of the blood down the drain. He sighed, pushing his wet hair back out of his face. He got out of the shower and grabbed one of the towels, pressing it into his hair first, then drying off. He looked down at his pants and sighed. He didn't care. He limped back towards the mirror, looking at the wounds. They were healing, slowly, but surely, and they no longer bled. He sighed in relief. That was a start. He pulled the jacket back over his shoulders, zipping it closed. The bullet holes still showed in the jacket, but not as noticeable as on the shirt. He tried to wash the blood out of the shirt, before throwing it into the trash. No one would notice, and even if they did, no one would care.

Gil walked back into the main part of the hotel room, looking around, trying to find anything that was Gisela's. He couldn't leave it there. He didn't see anything. He checked the nightstand, and finally the drawers. Her old clothes were folded in the middle left drawer, along with her heels. He picked them up, looking at them. He closed his eyes with a sigh. He looked back at the garbage basket in the room, and took the bag from it, putting Gisela's clothes inside. He glanced at the clock. It was almost 6 AM. He shook his head, quickly searching the room for anything else she'd left. He found nothing. He picked up the back of her clothes and walked out of the room, locking it, and back to his car.

…

GDR's boss looked at his watch. It was almost 10 in the morning. He'd seen the bodies of 4 men, but no women. He sighed, shaking his head.

Gil walked up to his boss's door and slammed the side of his fist against it. He looked up at the guards as the door opened, "Let me in?" he smirked. He stepped inside, dropping the body he carried onto his bosses desk. "Done."

The man looked up at him, surprised, then down at the body of the blonde woman lying on his desk. She'd been shot in the back of the head, her face too damaged from the exit wounds to make out any real features. She wore a shirt he recognized as Gisela's. He sighed, looking down at her, then back up at Gil.

"It's a shame really," the man sighed, "She was one of the best in the city. Do you know why I asked you to kill her?"

Gil didn't reply, waiting for him to continue.

"She threatened to tell my wife unless I let her over the wall. I couldn't have that, now could I?"

Gil looked at him for a moment, then turned away again, refusing to let any emotion he felt show on his face, "Well? Are you going to call off RAF or not?"

"I told you, I don't control them."

Gil leaned forward on the desk, looking down at his boss, who still sat in his chair casually, "I just killed five people for you on the understanding that you tell RAF their funding stops unless they let. my brother. GO!" he slammed his fist on the table, both of his arms grabbed instantly by guards. He struggled, wrenching himself free of them, looking back at his boss. "Are you keeping your end of the deal, or not?" Gil's arms shook as he leaned against the desk again. He hoped his boss wouldn't notice.

"I'm keeping my end of the deal," his boss nodded. He looked up, towards one of the guards, motioning him forward and whispering in his ear. The guard left the room.

Gil watched, curious. He didn't ask.

The man looked up at the other guard, motioning to the body on his desk, "Get rid of it please, it upsets me."

The guard picked up the woman's body and took it out of the room.

Gil still said nothing, sitting down in the chair opposite his boss, the desk between them. He kept his eyes fixed on the man as he leaned back, adjusting his uniform. He didn't bother to sit up as the door opened and a young officer walked in. He wore a Stasi uniform. Gil looked up at him, almost amused.

"And who is this?" he asked, looking him over. The uniform was well pressed and put together meticulously. He wouldn't admit it, but he was slightly impressed. The man's face was young, no older than 25.

"This," GDR's boss smiled, "Is Heinrich Schulz. He's going to… spend some time with you while you're here. Just to make sure everything during your stay goes smoothly. I've already put him in the room attached to yours. I'm sure you don't mind, do you, Gilbert?"

Gil set his jaw, forcing a smile. He looked up at the young man, standing, walking up to him with all the authority and aristocracy he could find. Heinrich didn't seem bothered. Gil was impressed.

"So, Heinrich, it's very nice to meet you," Gil smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man's, which didn't meet his, "You're quite young to be given someone like me to handle…" he turned back to his boss, "That is what you intend for him to be isn't it? A 'handler'? To make sure I stay under control? That I don't do anything…stupid again?" he glanced down at his boss's arm with a smirk, then turned back to Schulz, "So, what did you do? Kill someone important? Gather some kind of useful information…?"

Schulz didn't look at him.

Gil smirked, looking back at his boss, "He's pretty good. I'm impressed. I accept your offer to let him keep watch on me. Though I doubt he'll be any fun… I suppose being on duty he's not allowed to drink?"

GDR's boss looked up at him, annoyed, "Really, Gilbert? Is it really necessary for you to be this…this… frustrating right now?"

"What can I say, I'm talented. Also, I haven't slept all night, but you knew that." Gil shook his head, rolling his eyes and turning back to Schulz, "So… do you speak?"

Schulz said nothing.

Gil rolled his eyes, "All right then, I guess not." Gil turned back to his boss again, "I think you have a phone call to make?"

GDR's boss sighed, nodding. He picked up his phone, picking up a small black notebook. He flipped through it, then dialed a number, closing the book.

Gil heard the voice on the other end say something he couldn't understand in a surprised tone.

"This is a warning that all RAF funding and support by the GDR will stop unless Ludwig Beilschmidt is released, alive and unharmed, within the next hour. Good day, sir," his boss hung up the phone and turned to Gil, "There. Done."

"Danke," Gil nodded with a smile, turning back to Heinrich, "Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to go back to the hotel and sleep now." he walked past the young man and through the door into the hallway.

"Is he always so…?" Schulz looked at GDR's boss as the door closed.

"Obnoxious? Yes."

"Wonderful," Schulz sighed.

"Well, go after him," GDR's boss nodded towards the door.

Schulz walked out of the room, walking up to Gil, who leaned against the wall, waiting for him. He noticed Gil's hands were shaking slightly, "Are you all right, comrade Beilschmidt?" he asked.

Gil rolled his eyes, "Ja. I'm fine. Just a bit tired. I have been killing people all night." He stood, letting Schulz follow him as he walked towards his car.

A/N: Oh Gil... what have you done, you idiot! Next chapter we'll find out what's been happening to Germany. He managed to get out of this pretty well all things considered... I wonder if it will stay that way? There are a lot of people who know too many secrets now... Gil leaves too many loose ends. :/ Also we haven't seen Russia in a while... I miss him... maybe...? ;)

As always, reviews are deeply appreciated! Thank you so much for all the support! Cookies and treats for all of you! Thank you all so much! Shout out to MarshpyWritesStuff as the character of Heinrich Schulz is her character for the 300th commenter prize! I really like his character, and look forward to developing him further!