Heil Freedom
REVIEW COMMENT
moon*wolf2: THANK YOU! Somebody's noticed!!!!! *is dancing around thanking God* SOMEBODY's noticed that 'Theo' might be Tobias! I was wondering if I was being too subtle. Or had exceptionally forgetful readers. But you noticed, so THANK YOU!
A/N: Sorry about the long wait, people. School's started again, so bear with me and long waits. And yes, this will have religious themes running through it. It's set in the Holocaust, what did you expect? *reads a not-so-nice review and starts bawling* Not convincing? I don't claim to be a money-making authoress! Of course there's going to be things wrong with it! *wails*
DISCLAIMER: I own only… a bunch of people, but not as many people as I would like to.
Chapter 6: Theo
"What?!" All three other adults, plus Hans, Friedrich, Marco and Ax, yelped. Sara's eyes widened.
"Of all the people they could catch, they had to catch Theo!" Friedrich groaned.
"Oh, I hope he gets that cyanide pill before they make him talk!" Hans moaned.
"You would give him a cyanide pill?" Eva asked hoarsely.
"You would rather we take the chance of him talking?" Friedrich asked logically. "He's very high up on the hierarchy."
"But he's barely more than a boy!" Eva protested.
"And I hate the thought of ending his life this soon," Hans said soothingly. "But we just can't take the chance. Plus, if the Nazis haven't already executed him, they will soon."
"They've already dispatched one of the other members to slip a pill to him, just in case they've already found the one he was carrying." Aloysius said quietly.
"Who's Theo?" Jake asked later that evening, as they were going to sleep. Friedrich and Hans and the other adults were still downstairs discussing it; the girls had all been dispatched to their own bedroom to sleep. Marco and Ax and Jake were in sleeping bags on the floor; Henry was already asleep in the bed.
"Theo's the guy who does most of the organizing for Resistance stuff in Berlin." Marco explained. "I've never actually seen him, but he comes and goes from Denmark at odd intervals. But he's, like, the head honcho in Berlin and has been for years. Apparently, he's really young, though. About our age."
"It is amazing that the Nazis have not caught him yet. Maze. Zing. Amazing." Ax added.
"Ax, stop it." Marco yawned. "We both know they haven't caught him yet because he's a prodigy."
"He'd have to be." Jake agreed. "I mean, eighteen years old and head of the Resistance cells in Berlin? Right in the thick of the fray? Can you imagine all the pressure he's got on him?"
"How'd he get caught, though?" Marco wondered aloud.
The next morning, Jake woke up to find Marco and Ax both gone. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he went downstairs to the kitchen. Gretta was busily banging pots and pans around aimlessly; Aloysius and Friedrich were both still sitting at the table, grim expressions on their faces.
"Where'd Marco and A—A—A—Ax go?" Jake yawned.
"Take a seat, Jake." Gretta said absently. "The Delacours left for their house a few hours ago. How do you like your eggs?"
"Um, whatever." Jake said. "So what's going on with this Theo guy?"
Friedrich sighed. "From what they know, Theo was on another border-crossing trip to the harbouring family in Esbjerg. It's closer to the border than we," he added. "It makes it easier for Theo, since it's a shorter trip and he's got to come up with plausible excuses about his absence. Somewhere between Berlin and the border, they caught him but miraculously enough, none of the escapees. They somehow made it over the border and just informed us now. So actually, it may be too late for Theo. He may be long dead."
"Tell us!" the interrogator spat into Theo's face.
Theo, despite the bruises and cuts he had already received, remained silent, as he had for the past few hours.
"Break another one." the head ordered the underling, who promptly took the pliers and broke another finger. "Tell us!"
"'Our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.'" (Romans 8:18) Theo hissed through his teeth.
"Don't you quote that trash to me!" Wolfgang snarled. "Tell me who the other lowlife traitors are!"
"' It is better, if it is God's will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.'" (1 Peter 3:17) Theo snapped through the pain.
"Break another one."
" "Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing but the body is weak." He went away a second time and prayed, "My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink, it may your will be done."'" (Matthew 26:41-42) Theo hissed.
This time, the underling didn't even wait for the order before breaking another finger.
"Be a good boy in Sunday School, Theo," Alice Emery whispered as the children were dismissed for Sunday School.
"Aw, Mom, I will," 13-year-old Theo scoffed as he followed the other older boys up to the alcove where the 12- and 13-year-olds met for their class.
Once they arrived, Frau Dietrich came in the class and said briskly, "There will be no class for all the class from age 8 upwards today. If you all can go back to sit with your parents, that would be it."
"I wonder why we're not having a class," Elisabeth Zacharia whispered to her friends as the groups returned to the sanctuary, less noisy than usual.
Theo slouched back into his seat next to his mother and one of the other 13-year-old boys, Pastor Dietrich's son Tobias, joined both his parents, which had most of the adults buzzing.
A uniformed man stood up and from behind the podium, announced, "Most of you are all pure Aryan. The elite in Germany. Der Fuhrer is offering each of you the chance to drive out all those unworthy to share in Germany's greatness. Those ages 18 to 65 may take part in his German Workers Council. The young ones ages 8 to 17 can be part of the Hitler Youth. Those who agree, I will ask you to stand. Those of you with Jewish, Slavic or otherwise non-Aryan heritage are asked to refrain from partaking."
While most of the able audience stood, Werner Dietrich held his son down, though there was no need to. Tobias was looking disgusted enough. Theo, as well, remained sitting with his parents.
"Very good. Now, if you'll just step right through the doors and register, that would be good. Those with non-Aryan heritage are asked to leave. Werner Dietrich, may I request a presence with you and your family?"
"You could, but I wouldn't accept," Werner muttered. Tobias looked at his dad warily.
"Alice, Theo, come on," Wilhem Emery said softly. "Let's leave now."
A few weeks later…
The phone rang and Sara, yelling "I'll get it!", dashed and tumbled down the stairs to the phone.
"Owww… hello?" She said into the receiver in Danish.
"Hello, is this the Konrad residence?" a tired voice asked in German.
"Who is this?" she asked suspiciously.
"A friend… with… friend…Copenhagen Harbour…" he answered before he seemed to have passed out and concerned Danish voices called in the distance, "Hey, Mister, you all right?"
"Gretta! Aloysius!" Sara screamed.
"Who was it, Sara?" Jake asked, emerging from the kitchen at a run.
"I don't know!" Sara whimpered. "He just said something about a friend with friend and Copenhagen Harbour and then he didn't talk anymore!"
"A friend with a friend?" Aloysius asked. "In Copenhagen Harbour?"
"Oh, Aloysius, you don't think it's…" Gretta gasped.
When the men of the Danish Blue Street Resistance Cell (in other words, Aloysius, Walter, Friedrich, Jake, Marco and Ax) returned the next day, they were hauling between them a battered, bruised, broken and bandaged guy, who looked to be about 18.
"Meet Theo." Friedrich said wryly, as Theo gingerly lowered himself into a chair. "Theo, meet… everybody."
Theo looked up briefly to Rachel's disappointed expression and said, "Were you that desperate for me to die?"
"No, no." Rachel quickly said. "It's just that…"
"You thought I was someone else." Theo finished shortly. "Everybody's got someone they wish was in the Resistance. Not everybody is. So who's the girl who saved my life?"
"That would be Sara," Jordan answered, pulling her younger sister forward.
"Thank you, Sara." Theo said, surprisingly cheerful for his current state of health. "So, introduce me to people, Friedrich!"
"All right," Friedrich laughed. "That was Sara. This is Aloysius, Walter, Anders, but we call him Ax, don't ask why; Marco, Jake. They're the 'official' members. Then there's Eva and Gretta, Jordan and Rachel."
"Rachel, did you say?" Theo asked. "I seem to recall Theo talking about a Rachel."
"Rachel's a fairly common name among Jewish people," Jake was quick to say.
"Oh." Theo mumbled. "Hi, I'm Theo. Theo is my real name, not a code name."
"You're not the Theo." Gretta said.
"Actually, I am." Theo said sheepishly. "There's two of us. The other Theo's the one who does all the traveling and action. I did most of the planning."
"Yeah, because you look nothing like the Theo I know." Aloysius agreed.
"Theo Emery?" Jake asked. "No way."
"Hmm?" Theo turned and looked closer at him. "Not Jake Berenson!"
"More old school friends?" Rachel asked dryly.
"Not quite." Jake answered. "I actually only knew Theo through Tobias. What happened to him?"
Theo appeared a little ill at ease. "Tobias? I, uh, I, don't really know. I didn't really see all that much of him after his dad got arrested."
"Oh, didn't you know?" Rachel asked sardonically. "Tobias is a SS officer."
"WHAT?!" Marco and Ax both yelped.
"So that's why Rachel's been so prone to fits of anger," Marco muttered.
"Excuse me?" Rachel demanded angrily.
"I rest my case." Marco whimpered and dashed from the room with Rachel on his tail.
Theo laughed for a second and then doubled over in pain. "Ouch. Oh, I think I'd better refrain from laughing too hard for a while."
In the last week of August in 1939, almost eight months after his escape to Denmark, Theo's injuries had almost completely healed. He was constantly discussing the Resistance building up in Denmark with the other Blue Street guys.
One morning, the phone rang and Rachel was the first one there, beating out both her sisters, Jake and Cassie. "Hello?" she asked in Danish, which she appeared to have picked up rather quickly.
"Hello, may I speak to Theo?" a slightly-familiar voice asked in German.
"That depends." Rachel answered warily. "Probably not."
"All right, fine," the voice said. "Just tell him that we're going to be activating Project Oswiecim."
"Activating Project Oswiecim." Rachel repeated just as Theo entered the room. His eyes flew open and he snatched the receiver out of Rachel's grip.
"Theo, are you INSANE?! Don't tell me they're actually going ahead with it!! Project Oswiecim? You're crazy, you're suicidal, you're — don't tell me you're just doing your duty! You sound awfully close. If you're in Copenhagen, watch out, because I'm beating you out of this! What? Whaddaya mean, we might be activating Project Amalienborg? The Nazis will never get through us Danes. Yes, I am referring to myself as a Dane now. I might be German by birth, but until Germany comes back to their senses and jails all those stupid Nazis, I'm not German." He slammed the phone back down and whirled around to face four very suspicious faces. "What?" He was very irritated by now.