Chapter One: Granny

A woman pulled her thin shawl tightly around her shoulders as she stood before the graves of her family. Fingers stiffened by the cold and age protested as she brushed her hand against the name of the man she had once loved. Philipp Haas, her husband, father of five. But how can love survive when the other person does not? For what is a widow but a woman forced to be both mother and father - caretaker and provider - in a world where there was never enough to go around? She had considered it a miracle that all of her children had survived the years of hunger and illness and poverty following the war. When those dark days had passed, she had found joy in the marriages of her children, in the births of her grandchildren and in the hope that their lives would be better than her own.

But war was cruel. It crushed every hope and destroyed every dream. And one by one, war stole her sons from her. All she had left were their graves:

Johan Haas, her youngest child. Her proud soldier. So eager to follow in the footsteps of the father he had never met that he never considered that his fate would also be the same.

Otto Haas, her middle son. A charmer and a peacemaker. When he was drafted, he had simply kissed her on forehead and told her not to worry. But she had worried and her worries had come true.

Gerhard Haas, her oldest. The one she had dared hope would be safe. Too old to be conscripted, but there is no mercy in war. No mercy at all...

Other women in her shoes would have given into despair. Retreated from the world until they died heartbroken and alone. Others would have clung to their daughters. Stayed close to the only people they had left. But Irmi Haas was not like other women. More than a widow and a mother, Irmi was a fighter who never stopped doing what was necessary to ensure that her children were fed and the rent was paid.

Scars from those long years of hard labor had left her with aches and pains that followed her now, but her determination and iron will never went away either. So when Irmi buried her last son, that old fire reignited within her and she swore that she would do whatever it took to end this war.

It was that promise, made before the graves of her family, that led her to the Underground.

At first, no one took her seriously. Men saw women like her and wanted to protect them, but Irmi had nothing left from which to be protected. So she persisted until, one by one, the members of the local Underground brought her into their circles and trusted her with their secrets, giving her more and more responsibility with every passing month. She would still encounter others who could not understand why a woman her age would take this risk. To them, Irmi's answer was always the same, "I do this for my sons."

Every secret message. Every bit of food given to men in hiding. Every guard she tricked and every official she lied to was for her sons. And tonight would be the culmination of all her plans.

Tonight, she would meet Papa Bear.

Tonight, she would do her part to end this war.

Blonde or brunette? Colonel Robert E. Hogan debated one of man's most important questions as he scanned the tables at the Hofbrau looking for his Underground contact. He was searching for a woman wearing a red shawl and carrying a small basket. The fact that this contact went by the codename "Granny" did not dampen his enthusiasm at all. Misdirection was important in their line of work and he had never yet met a female agent who wasn't easy on the eyes. So convinced was Hogan that his contact would be a beautiful young woman, that he almost knocked over his drink when a gray-haired, older woman with a face full of wrinkles walked through the front door with the correct colored shawl draped around her shoulders.

Hogan took at a swig of his beer to hide his surprise while he quickly reassessed his plans. For no matter how lonely a German soldier might be, no one would attempt to flirt with an elder. However, Granny herself gave him an opportunity - she stumbled when she passed the table and looked like she might fall.

Hogan jumped up and gently grabbed the woman, saying loudly, "Gnädige Frau, be careful. The floors are slippery in here."

"Danke, Sergeant."

Leading her to a nearby chair, he whispered, "Beware the woods, Goldilocks prowls."

Recognition flickered across her face as she heard the code. "And the Big Bad Wolf steals bears' porridge."

Hogan smiled. "Granny."

"Papa Bear."

Gesturing to a nearby waiter, Hogan ordered, "Waiter, this poor woman is frozen. Bring her something warm to drink."

"You are too kind."

"Forgive me for saying so, Gnädige Frau, but it is late for a woman of your age to be out."

Irritation flashed across her face, but her voice was calm as she replied, "It is lonely at home." Then leaning in, she whispered, "And my sons were too young to die."

Before Hogan could respond, their waiter returned and placed a steaming mug of tea on their table. Granny gently cupped the mug in her hands as she sipped, allowing it to warm up her body. After a closer look, he realized that Granny was younger than he had first thought. War had aged her beyond her years. The death of her sons... At that moment, Hogan would have bet money that she was a widow, too.

Granny might not have been a beautiful blonde, but this woman deserved his respect. For the risks she was taking were great and the information she was carrying could shorten the war. Downing the rest of his beer, Hogan rose and reached out his hand. "Good evening, Frau, it was nice to meet you."

Granny grasped his hand, passing the microfilm she carried. "Thank you for the drink, Sergeant."

As Papa Bear walked away, Granny took another sip of her tea. That had gone well even though the much respected and feared leader of the Underground had not been what she had expected. He was younger than she had imagined and a foreigner! His accent was good, but he had slipped up a couple of times, which had convinced her that he wasn't German. How the Allied Powers had gotten an agent this deep into Germany and how he had stayed undetected for so long amazed her.

Turning her attention back to her tea, Granny forced herself to drink slowly. She wanted nothing more than to leave and continue on to the next stage of her mission - she had waited for so long - but she hadn't come this far to make a mistake now. One never knew who was watching.

Twenty minutes later, she decided that enough time had passed so she rose and walked out onto the street. The wind had picked up and she felt the chill in her bones. But she ignored the cold and the pain of her joints and continued walking down the street. For every single step brought her closer to the goal that she had risked everything to achieve.

After checking again that no one was watching her, Granny came to a stop in front of Gestapo Headquarters. And as she looked up at the large flags, she smiled for the first time in months: soon she would finally find peace. For in just a few moments, her sons would be avenged.

Her sons. Her pride and her joy. Her sorrow and her grief. How dare the Underground work to destroy the country that her sons had died to protect!

As she climbed the steps, she remembered Johan who had been a troubled child until he joined the Hitler Youth. As the years passed, Hitler's policies had led Germany and their family out of poverty. So when the call had gone out, Johan had been one of the first to volunteer to serve. She would not let his death in battle be marred by the sting of defeat.

She thought of Otto. Her son who had never wanted to be a soldier but he had bravely answered his country's call. Sent to the Eastern Front, she had never stopped worrying for him, each letter he had sent spoke of his hope that he would return to her. She still carried her son's letters with her as a constant reminder of why she fought.

As she stepped inside the building, Granny remembered her eldest. Her precious Gerhard. The boy who had made her a mother and whose death had broken her and then awoken her to a new purpose in life. For when her younger sons had died, she convinced herself that at least Gerhard was safe. Gerhard, too old, too valuable to be drafted, would survive as he served his country making the weapons in a local factory.

Irmi had screamed at the news of her eldest son's death. It was bad enough to learn that Papa Bear had bombed a factory where German civilians worked. But to do so at the change of shift when double the number men were present for the explosion had convinced her that all this sabotage was the work of a monster. So instead of giving into her grief, she fed her anger, joined the Underground and became Granny. And with every risk she took, she renewed her promise to do whatever it would take to find the man responsible for her eldest's death. She swore revenge upon the man whose actions dishonored all of her sons' sacrifices. Only when Papa Bear was dead would her sons finally rest in peace.

So with her head held high, Granny marched right up to the soldier sitting at the front desk and ordered, "Bring me to Major Hochstetter."

The soldiered took one look at her and dismissed her. "Major Hochstetter is a very busy man. May I take a message?"

"Inform the Major that I have discovered the identity of Papa Bear."