Interrogation

Thanks for all the reviews! Karl recieves some rather nasty treatment from a Jewish Sargeant.

Joe Rochmann went and fetched Kroenen when the Sergeant called. He was amazed at the Nazi's quick recovery. He had looked near death's door, and now…

When he returned, Mary Crimsonne was waiting at the interrogation table, the two strange weapons they had found with the man before her. She stared hatefully at Kroenen when he was brought in.

"This is the Nazi who is in for murder?" she snapped.

Joe nodded. He glanced at Kroenen, and got the strange impression that he was grinning under his mask.

"I can hardly interrogate him with that mask on."

Kroenen stiffened slightly.

Nie! Never!>Never Came a sharp, angry thought. Joe started slightly in surprise. He had never told anyone of his strange gift for reading other's thoughts, and nowadays it was rare that he heard anything. This Kroenen was strange indeed.

He reached out with his thoughts. Warann nicht? Why not?> He mentally asked.

Kroenen turned at the sound of his thought-voice and regarded Joe thoughtfully. Seeing this Mary also turned her flinty gaze on him.

"You're a German, Rochmann. Persuade him to take off that metal monstrosity."

Now Joe was sure Kroenen was grinning, though his thoughts were also bitter. The police officer stepped closer.

"Aufnehme, Take it off. >" he said, pushing the thought of compliance with his mind. He felt Kroenen's mind falter slightly then harden.

"Aufnehme," he repeated, his mind almost pleading.

The Nazi sighed.

"Ich es so wichtig? Is it so important?> "

"Ja,"

Kroenen reached up and began to flick open the clips that held his mask on. Mary Crimsonne shot Rochmann a satisfied glance.

The Nazi pulled the black metal mask off and shook out his long blonde hair. He had deep blue eyes, and they fixed the Sergeant with a stony glare. That was not what caused the two other policemen to gasp though. Kroenen's face was patterned with intertwining pale scars, accenting his features and giving him a sinister appearance. Even Mary seemed shocked.

Joe caught a flash of satisfaction and amusement from the Nazi as he leaned back, keeping his intimidating gaze on Crimsonne.

"Well, let's continue this interrogation," said the Sergeant, recovering slightly.

Kroenen nodded. He seemed bored.

"Who was the dead man we found by you in the silversmiths?"

"His name was Vladimir Kalscof. He was a Versipillis V agent."

A flash of confusion passed across Crimsonne's face. "What is Versipillis V?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Mary changed tack.

"Are these yours?" she asked, gesturing to the swords.

"Ja."

Joe felt Kroenen's longing to have the blades back in his hands, to be out of the prison and back in his home, to be with, who was that? He got only a faint impression, whoever it was; Kroenen did not want him to see her face.

"What are they made of? It's no metal alloy we know."

"Now that would be telling.

Mary was getting impatient. She gestured for Paul and Joe to leave. They did so reluctantly.

"He's a strange one," Paul said, "Did you see those scars!"

Joe was paying scant attention; his mind fixed on the room they had left. He merely nodded.

Crimsonne was standing now, walking over to stand behind Kroenen. The German suddenly opened his thoughts, flooding Joe with impressions. He felt as though it was he himself in the room with the Sergeant.

"I will be truthful with you," Crimsonne was saying, "I hate you Nazi scum."

Kroenen said nothing.

"One of you, or your crazy supporters, killed my uncle less than a month ago. He was guilty of nothing; he was a harmless soul."

"Jew?"

"Yes," she hissed.

"I know…"

"What do you mean?"

Joe already knew. Kroenen was sending him his memories of the event. It appeared the 'harmless soul' was not as harmless as Mary thought. There was pain in those thoughts, enough to make him grit his teeth, and he knew the Nazi was sparing him the worst of it.

There was a young man now, pleading with his father not to do this, ignored, shrugged off. Crimsonne's cousin? Now the teenager was sneaking into the cellar in the dead of night, unlocking Kroenen's bonds, bringing him his blades and uniform. Then blood and death, baton sword ending the life of the uncle.

"You killed him?" Mary was shouting, "And what about my cousin, did you kill him too?"

Nein, Kroenen's thoughts told Joe. It wasn't my fault. The young man holding that baton sword, looking at it with grief- filled eyes. Ending his own life rather than live with the memories of his father's deeds.

"Stand up, you murderer," Crimsonne hissed.

Kroenen stood and faced her, expressionless but for his eyes, which glowed with barely contained energy.

The Sergeant stood stock still for a moment, then spun and kicked him where it hurt. Hard. Really hard. The Nazi doubled over with a muffled sound and dropped to his knees. He looked as if he was about to be sick. Despite the mental blocks on the pain, Joe still felt as if his groin was on fire. Pete noticed his discomfort and looked at him puzzled.

"It's nothing," he said, wishing it was.

Back in the interrogation room, Mary Crimsonne kicked Kroenen in the side and stepped over him to the door, opening it and glaring at the two policemen waiting there.

"Go down to the store and bring up the boxes labelled T1-12," she ordered Pete. He saluted and ran to get them.

Joe felt sick to his stomach, though whether this was because he knew what those boxes contained, or just because of referred pain he didn't know.

"Don't do this," he begged the Sergeant. She shot him a strange look.

"Why ever not?" she seemed puzzled, "Don't tell me you're taking his side."

It was no use. He'd have to tell her his secret.

"Because I'm an Empath. I know what he's thinking. I feel what he feels." That was simplifying it a bit to say the least.

Crimsonne recoiled as though he was a rattlesnake; "You're a what!"

"I'm an Empath."

She looked at him in disgust and revulsion. Then an idea seemed to occur to her, and a sinister smile spread across her face.

"Well then, Empath, let's see how you like all the thoughts that will fit in your twisted head."

She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him towards the door. He struggled uselessly.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see.

Joe curled up on the cold stone floor trying to think past the flood of thoughts and pictures as the minds of the entire prison were concentrated in this small cell. Impressions and memories swirled around him, entering his mind through the psy-metal aerial glued to his temple, overwhelming his mental shields by sheer force.

Chief amongst those was the strong metal presence of Kroenen. From what he could tell amongst the other thoughts, Mary Crimsonne was practising her own brand of 'interrogation' on him. Beneath the stupor of truth and will-breaking drugs and the mind-wracking pain though, there was something deeper, a strange presence. Maybe it was the Nazi's sub-conscious...

To find out what it is, and how Karl gets out of this, review and I'll put up the next chapter. Pleeeese!