If there was one thing that Klaudia was grateful for, as she stretched her legs out in front of her, it was that they had altered this car to properly fit her. Taking a note from Goering in Berlin her field support would remove the front passenger seat of any vehicle she would be using. The breeze whipping around her face as they drove along was a welcome trade-off for using an open-top model. At least it served to alleviate her constant feeling of claustrophobia. With all the chaos surrounding her mission even small sources of comfort were few and far between. Klaudia attempted to nap the best that she could, even though the way the car bounced over ruts in the road prevented her from truly falling asleep. It had been days since she had managed to complete a full rest cycle and the fatigue was catching up to her. With all that was left to do there would be little chance for proper rest any time soon.
In some ways the assault was everything that its planners had hoped it would be. Klaudia, accompanied by a few panzermensch, had broken through the Allied lines at one point while the rest of the small force of enhanced soldiers here in the west attacked another. Both had the support of the conventional forces that were in any shape to commit to an assault. Focusing on destroying as much of the armour and artillery as possible the ubermensch had managed to blunt the Allied advantage. Having seen what Klaudia could do to any large group of men the British and Americans were leery of concentrating their forces. While the front lines had barely moved on the map that had not been a major goal. For the initial attack at least.
As it had been explained to Klaudia the primary focus of the war at this point was to secure Germany, with the Soviets being the more pressing threat. Since Berlin there had been only a handful of air raids, mostly small in scale and having little lasting effect. It had been hinted to Klaudia that there was another project in the works that would soon secure the skies. Her mission was to make sure that there was no renewed attack from the west as Germany rebuilt its armies. Should the rest of the Allies continue to persist by the time that the Soviets had been destroyed then they would be threatened with the same fate.
Goering had seemed certain that it would not come to that. After all the British were already well bloodied from the war and the Americans would not have the stomach to take on the kind of casualties that the Battleships could inflict. With a strong enough show of force both would be convinced to accept Germany's terms. Without the secret to creating the Catalyst there was simply no way for them to win. It was only a matter of how many deaths would be needed to prove it.
For her part Klaudia had found the plan to be rather underwhelming. What she had wanted was the wild abandon that she had felt at Strasbourg, a chance to smother her sorrows with the anaesthetizing qualities of rage. She had been able to capture that wonderful feeling of emptiness a few times so far but it seemed more fleeting now than before. This assault was more properly a series of raids. Steal supplies, take captives, destroy heavy equipment, free German prisoners. Each a vital element to the ultimate success of the war effort, each failing to give Klaudia the revenge that she truly desired. Though that would surely come in time. Goering had promised her that once victory was secure she would be given her pick of the Allied leaders. Soon enough she would be able to put her hands on Churchill, Harris and every other monster that had ordered fire dropped onto Germany.
So long as Klaudia got them in the end she was willing to be patient. For a little while at least.
A familiar sound reached Klaudia's ears. That of hundreds of boots trudging through the dust. Opening her eyes briefly she spotted the column of freed Germans marching along the road ahead. This was the major reason that she got such little rest. These newly liberated soldiers may have been rearmed but they were hardly in any shape to put up much of a fight if they came under attack. With Klaudia out and about at all hours it made their march back to Germany a little safer. As they got approached the column Klaudia closed her eyes. She knew what she would see and did not care to see it again.
In what she suspected was a ploy to play off of her remorse over Leon's death Goering and the others had told Klaudia that she would be greeted as a miraculous saviour by the men she freed. There were a fair number who had done so, cheering and applauding at Germany's renewed fortunes. It was the men who had kept quiet that had caught Klaudia's attention. Most of them carried a look of resignation that they had been pulled back into the war. Klaudia recognized it as the look she saw in the mirror every morning, the acknowledgement that this hell around them might never end.
Part of Klaudia felt regret over bringing them back into the conflict. Many were old enough to be her father, some far past that even. She was quick to suppress that emotion though. After all she had not asked for any of this to happen to her but it had anyways. If she could live with it, so could they.
"Shit. Some fool went off the road." Klaudia's driver said, causing her to look up from her nap. Sure enough there was a truck in the ditch. Men were milling about trying to figure out how to get it back on to the road.
"I'll take care of it." Klaudia told him. It was a straight stretch of road, just how had they managed to drive off it? There were few enough trucks available that they could afford to lose any to such simple errors.
Getting out of the car Klaudia barely acknowledged the soldiers who parted in front of her. Some had the presence of mind to salute while others just stood there gawking at their first sight of a Battleship up close. Her lack of concern over enforcing discipline was something that drove her aides to distraction. They had told her many times that the rank Goering had given her came with certain responsibilities. Klaudia's reply that she had accepted it for the opportunities, not the obligations, was hardly what they had wanted to hear. They would have to make do as Klaudia was the one with the power, not them. Besides, she doubted that many other generals would stop to help a truck back on the road much less do it themselves.
"Put it in neutral." Klaudia instructed the man behind the wheel as she got in front of the truck. She needed to learn how to drive herself one of these days. Still she had picked up some of the basics from the previous times she had rescued vehicles from whatever idiocy their drivers had mired them in.
Reaching down Klaudia spread her arms wide to take hold of the frame of the truck beneath the front bumper. She had torn off a few of those figuring out the best way to do this. As sturdy as they might look most trucks did not react well to being suddenly lifted from the ground. Carefully lifting it up she walked the vehicle back onto the road. Setting it back down she brushed off her coat, stopping for a moment beside the cab once more.
"Pay more attention to what you're doing. Next time I'll make you pull it out yourself." Klaudia told the driver, who let out a long chain of apologies and assurances. Not caring to listen to the rest of it Klaudia returned to her car.
Werner had warned her about this, how mundane war could be. "Most of war isn't shooting. It's waiting, or marching, or fixing things. All leading up to that terrifying moment when you hear the first shot." Wherever he was right now Klaudia hoped that he was well. She did miss his advice at times.
It was a strange kind of war anyways. One of the greatest weapons in Germany finding herself out saving men who did not want to be saved. Strong enough to break an actual battleship into scrap and using that strength to get trucks back on the road. Able to kill an entire division with a glance yet most of the enemy soldiers she encountered pissed themselves and surrendered before she even had a chance to threaten them.
As Klaudia had discovered it remained easier to destroy machines than it was to kill things that left bodies behind. Making sure that the distortions she created were strong enough to not leave a mess behind did require some extra effort. Once a man had surrendered it changed things. The Allies were the ones who killed the defenceless. Proving that she was better than they were made victory a little sweeter. When it came to the question of what exactly to do with the prisoners she took Klaudia left that to the leaders back in Berlin.
Not everyone agreed with Klaudia's assessment. There had been reprisals against both Allied soldiers and Germans who had been deemed too helpful during their brief captivity. Often enough these ended up being lethal affairs. With persistent rumours that the Allies were executing prisoners rather than let them fall into German hands tempers were running hot. Strangely enough Klaudia found that she could barely bring herself to care one way or the other. So long as no one was stupid enough to disturb her directly with this nonsense she figured that it was something else for the army leaders to take care of.
The rest of the patrol passed without incident and soon enough they were pulling up to the latest command centre. It was really just a collection of a few tents around an abandoned farmhouse. These field outposts had all been hastily assembled. There was little point in putting in too much effort when they would all be moving on in a few days or so. As soon as the soldiers and captives had cleared the area it would be time to strike the next target.
A gangly young soldier approached Klaudia with a canister in hand. "Your rations Herr General... Sieglinde."
Taking the container from the flustered boy Klaudia suppressed a smile. Seeing as none of the officers particularly cared to look after her upkeep themselves unfortunate soldiers found themselves ordered to do it. So far two days was the record for how long one had lasted before they had begged the duty off on someone else. This poor boy could not even bring himself to look her in the eye. Klaudia would be amazed if he made it through the afternoon.
"What's your name soldier?" Klaudia asked before taking a mouthful of glucose paste.
"Its, ah, Bernd, ma'am." He managed to stutter out.
"My name is Klaudia. Sieglinde, General and all those are just things that I do. Not who I am. So you can call me by my name, understand?"
"Yes. Klaudia."
So he could listen at least, and the Wehrmacht had not yet had a chance to shove a stick too far up his ass. Perhaps she would give him a chance to prove himself.
"Good boy. Now while I eat why don't you tell me about what all happened while I was on patrol?" Klaudia took a seat under one of the tents as Bernd began to stutter again and rushed off to find the briefings. She had nearly finished eating by the time that Bernd came running back up with a small stack of notes.
"Reconnaissance reports that the enemy continues to retreat towards Antwerp, as expected. There is an infantry force thirty miles to the north of us but Command thinks it best to let them go for now. It seems that the Americans are trying to move prisoners further back from the front and we are to renew our efforts on recovering them. Every man we save might be another panzermensch." Bernd was breathless by the time that all of that came tumbling out of him. He had not looked up from his notes at all during the report and now continued to look down at the ground.
"I'm certain that my boots are overjoyed by the news," Klaudia said. That brought Bernd's eyes up to her belt buckle at least. Passing him the empty container Klaudia asked, "Have they tested you yet?"
"Yes Klaudia. I wasn't a candidate."
"Lucky you." This time Klaudia could not hold back the smile from seeing the look of utter confusion that came across the boy's face. That raised another question. "How old are you Bernd?"
"Seventeen." He replied, speaking to her boots once more.
Not that much younger than herself then. It was an odd realization for Klaudia. Bernd just seemed like he should be a child. It might have just been the great difference in their heights. Or the difference in what they had seen.
A faint sound in the distance caused Klaudia to hold back her next questions. She would have enough time to make Bernd squirm more later. For now there was something much more pressing to attend to.
"Do you hear that?" Klaudia asked as she stood up.
"Not really-" Bernd replied, just as a nearby officer lifted his head up.
"Plane. Only one so must be another recon flyover." The officer went back to his work. He knew better than trying to talk Klaudia out of what she was about to do. Bernd began to search the skies for a sign of the approaching aircraft.
"There it is," Klaudia pointed the small craft out to Bernd, waiting for it to come into focus for him. The information to be gained about the German positions must have been enough for the Allies to keep on risking these planes and pilots. Klaudia had been instructed to leave them be. All destroying them would do was give the Allies a much better picture of where exactly she was at any given time. She, however, disagreed. "Watch this."
A short distance in front of the plane, just far enough away for the pilot to react, a distortion large enough to swallow it whole appeared. The man was paying attention at least as he quickly veered off to his right, only to find a new distortion blocking his path. This one was much closer. Another hairpin turn into another distortion and the plane was now heading back the way it came.
"Maybe next time." Klaudia remarked as Bernd stood there staring and the officer just shook his head.
A waste of effort and a detriment to operational security they called it. Good fun was what Klaudia saw it as. So far it was about half and half whether a pilot managed to navigate her little obstacle course or went down in flames. What was the harm in it really? All it did in the end was provide another example of how the Allies had no means to defend themselves against Klaudia. Putting more stress on them now would just increase the chance that they would shatter when she finally struck them directly. Turning her attention back to Bernd Klaudia thought on how to best get under the boy's skin. Not like there was anything else for her to be doing this afternoon.
Emerging out of the bunker and into the evening light Anita took a deep breath, as much to banish the infernal stench as to clear her nerves. Behind her, wrapped in layers of reinforced concrete, was the first clinic in the world for the treatment of injured ubermensch. It was not really that much of a clinic but that sounded much better than laboratory or charnel house.
It was hardly the first time that Anita had gotten her hands dirty. Most of the experiments she had overseen for Sankt had been messy affairs. The major difference was that now they were trying to fix people rather than take them apart, a much more difficult endeavour that prevented the use of a number of techniques that she had employed previously. More and more Anita found herself longing to go back to being a simple sculptor. Clay smelled wonderful compared to blood and was far easier to wash off at the end of the day. As usual Anita would enjoy a scalding hot bath before retiring for the night. Perhaps employing some caustic substances to ensure that she felt completely clean.
Things were progressing though, painfully slow as it might be at times. Quite literally so for the patients. Most of Anita's concerns about the difficulty of making repairs to a living body with the halo had proven accurate. At least they had discovered a way to burn off the nerve endings around wounds. It was a crude means of pain management but all of the men welcomed the lack of feeling over constant pain. Eventually Anita hoped that either she or another would develop enough control to perform the work in a single treatment. She suspected that the Battleships could manage it but they were needed elsewhere of course.
It was a short walk from the clinic to where Anita had been given quarters. Initially they had wanted her to just bunk down in one of the spare rooms above the surgery but she had been successful in arguing against that. There had to be at least a few hours of the day that she could enjoy for herself away from her work. Besides it was almost certain that her every action was being observed and recorded no matter where she was sleeping. Even if she had wanted to run Anita doubted that she would be able to make it out of the city. Starvation was all that would await her if she did manage it.
With all this in mind Anita was not at all surprised to hear footsteps behind her. Closer than usual, whoever they had sent was sloppy. Eventually the steps caught up to her and Anita was surprised to see that it was Hagen himself.
"I hear that your efforts are proceeding well. Congratulations. Let's take a little walk to celebrate." Hagen motioned for her to follow along, heading into the abandoned street nearby. Tired from the day's work Anita considered just going back to her quarters anyways but decided to see what Hagen was up to. There was one possibility that came to mind.
"You're a married man aren't you Colonel?" Anita asked. It would not be the first time that she had been propositioned. Providing those men foolish enough to ask with an excruciatingly detailed picture of the likely results of such an act was enough to dissuade them so far. She would have considered Hagen to be smarter than that.
"What? Of course I am, what-," Hagen shook his head to clear the surprise from his voice. "This is not about anything like that."
"Then why are we walking out here, just the two of us?"
"Difficulties have arisen." Hagen said mysteriously as he ducked into an alleyway.
"I've already told you everything I know. There is not much more I can do I'm afraid." Anita replied as she followed him in. This area had been hit hard and there was no one in sight.
"The difficulties aren't anything to do with the Catalyst itself. That is actually proceeding on schedule. This is a much more sensitive set of problems," Lowering his voice further Hagen continued. "The losses that Himmler incurred did not have as much of an effect on his popularity with the Leader as we might have hoped. The others are just as eager to grab control of whatever part of the project that they can. If this continues then all of this might have been in vain. For all of Sankt's faults keeping the project under a single vision was the correct course of action."
"I fail to see how I can help you with any of that. I'm no politician. I'm not even one of the scientists. Surely if you manage to snag one of them-"
"You might not be a scientist Anita but you did oversee everyone involved in the Catalyst breakthrough. Those that I interviewed spoke highly of your organizational skills. More than anyone else you know the people involved. Their strengths, weaknesses. You know the system behind the ubermensch." Hagen was being unusually earnest. Things really must have been looking grim for the Wehrmacht to stoop to this level.
If Anita understood him correctly what they wanted was a spy of sorts. Someone who would be able to tell them which of the former project members might be leaned on in order to gain an edge on all the others involved in this squabbling. Loathe as she was to get involved this did seem to be the best way to help ensure a victory for Germany. As Hagen had implied all those involved might tear each other apart and take Germany's chances with them.
"If I were to agree to this then I will need some sort of assurance that I will not be thrown to the dogs as soon as you have what you want."
"That you've not been imprisoned for being too close to Sankt should show you that we've already been looking out for your well being," Hagen let out a sigh when he saw Anita getting ready to protest. "Come now, everything points towards Sankt trying to put together some kind of putsch. He would need help to pull that off and you were closer to him than anyone. No one else has figured that out yet and no one else will so long as you cooperate."
It would be too much to ask that Hagen truly had come alone. No doubt there were watchers hidden all around this seemingly abandoned alley. Almost certainly a few loyal panzermensch in case if Anita were inclined to try anything. Still she considered it for a moment. Kill Hagen, kill whoever had accompanied him, try and make it out of the city before the alarm was raised. The question was what to do afterwards. Run to the Allies? Even if she had the supplies to make it Anita hardly had the stomach to consider it. For now it seemed that fate had chosen her path for her.
"Alright Hagen. I'm your woman." Anita smiled as she thought, at least until something better comes along.
It did not take long for Anita to regret agreeing to assist Hagen. Rather than soaking her cares away she found herself in a secluded room pouring over everything that the Wehrmacht had managed to find out about the various new branches of the Ubermensch project. Finding the flecks of gold amidst all of the dross was maddening. Yet Anita was persistent if she was anything. Particularly when her life was on the line.
Deaths among the new activations were higher than predicted. It was possible that the Catalyst supply had been tainted at some point. Great care had been taken to label every batch produced at the camp. With all the chaos of trying to implement testing on a grand scale most of those records had been ignored. Now it would be all but impossible to track down where any particular impurity had come from.
The number of candidates was still promising, even if there were no Battleships as of yet. Anita knew that it was a fool's hope to wait for another to be found. Imperfect as they were the current batch of Battleships was probably all that would be found for a generation.
That left tracking down which researchers had ended up where. While none of the ones that Sankt had managed to hang on to when everything went to hell had been particularly genius they all had a distinct advantage. They had practical experience with the arcane procedures of the Catalyst. So far Anita had noted a few who could be turned. Idiosyncratic lifestyles seemed to go hand-in-hand with that lot of misfits. There was a slight problem with continuing down that route. A few of the project members seemed to have fallen through the cracks.
Particularly of note were the chemist Freya Bergen and Anita's fellow administrator Lupin Schultz. No one seemed to know where they had been reassigned to after Klaudia's excursion to Strasbourg. Lupin was not a major concern, as Anita could not think of anything that could be used against him. The man had been straight-laced through and through. Bergen on the other hand...
The Norwegian had been talented but equally unpleasant to interact with. Bergen would not even have to have done anything to convince those around her to turn on her. After which point she could be forced into the same situation that Anita found herself in, running to the Wehrmacht for protection. It would be rather poetic in a way.
Scribbling down a note for Hagen to focus on finding Bergen Anita turned back to the stacks of paperwork. Everything she needed to save herself was here. It would just take a little time.