Dear Diary,

Last night I went to see David Morrissey (The Governor) in Hangmen in London, and it was AMAZING. I was sitting very close to the stage in a box and could see everything up close. David was superb, and so was the play, the set and the other actors. But the most amazing thing of all was that David looked at me FOUR TIMES. Twice really briefly at the start but then more definitely at the end. A few minutes before the end I laughed at one of the jokes and he looked up at me, and then during the curtain call he turned his head and looked right at me! Smiling! I just died. I said to my boyfriend that he'd looked at me as we were filing out and he said 'Was one of the times during the curtain call?' 'YES. YOU NOTICED TOO!' (My boyfriend and I both have silly celebrity crushes so he didn't mind all my swooning!)

Uh. I can barely concentrate to finish writing this chapter. Still swooning.

But on we go, and at the end, look out for a link to some FAN ART for this story of the commandant and Beth drawn by the amazing Nine Bright Shiners! Thank you so much!

…

Shane was on his way home when he spied someone he knew. Wasn't that Blake's blonde bit of stuff, the girl he'd taken to the party? He looked again. Yes it was, and she was on the arm of another man. They were smiling and talking. As Shane watched, the pair stopped in a doorway and embraced. Walsh, curious, stepped into the shadows. He watched them kiss for several minutes before finally breaking apart, and then the girl disappeared inside the building. The man, tall, though not quite as tall as he and Blake, had scruffy hair and clothes. He stayed where he was for several moments, as if waiting to see she got safely inside, and then slipped away back the direction they'd come.

Shane chuckled to himself and kept walking. He'd noticed the way Blake had looked at his pretty secretary. The commandant wanted Beth for himself. How was he going to react, Shane wondered, when he found out she was with someone else?

…

"GUNTER" arrived home at 19:40 with "ISABELLA". They discussed the most recent escapes via Checkpoint Charlie and decided that the two attempts were unrelated.

Mention was made of "ISABELLA'S" ex-husband, "PARTY MEMBER 52".

Then conversation continued along domestic lines.

They retired at 22:25 and presumably had intercourse.

Nothing further of interest this night.

Blake put down the report. He'd ordered Comrade Walsh's, or "GUNTER's", apartment be bugged the morning after Beth had told him she'd seen him with Conrad. He didn't exactly suspect Walsh of being a traitor, but he was a thorough man and he wanted to follow up on the lead. There might be a good reason for Walsh talking to Conrad. Then again, there might not.

But he had to be careful. It could cause him a great deal of trouble if it got out that he'd bugged a Party member's apartment, and on such stingy evidence. The Party were the only people who had any power over him, and Walsh would not take the invasion of his privacy lightly. Blake's reasoning was two-fold: he had a desire to know everything on a professional level, but it was personal as well. If Walsh, the closest thing he had to a friend, couldn't be trusted, he wanted to know about it.

It amused Blake that Walsh and "ISABELLA" seemed to be proceeding with their relationship. Lori couldn't have told him about all the ways she was pleasing her commandant. Or had been. He hadn't had any release in over a week and was starting to notice the effects, but if he told Lori to stay late so he could fuck her it would get back to Beth. Why must women tell each other everything?

He put the folder with the report on Walsh aside and called Beth into his office.

'Beth, I have some good news for you,' he said, when Beth was seated in front of his desk. She looked pretty and serene in a pale blue blouse. It brought out the deeper blue of her eyes. Hannah'd had eyes just like that, and he remembered with a flash holding the girl in his arms, naked after love-making, her looking at him with eyes just like that. He would see Beth looking up at him like that. He would know that feeling again.

Blake made himself smile. 'I have arranged for you and your siblings to visit your father in prison.'

Beth's eyes widened. 'He is in prison, then? He's been charged and convicted of a crime?'

Blake squashed a flicker of irritation. Could she not simply be grateful to him instead of ask so many questions? He pretended to consult Hershel Greene's file that he had on his desk. 'Yes, it appears he was convicted of … propaganda offenses and incitement of hatred.'

Beth thought about this. 'My father never hated anyone. Against whom was he inciting hatred?'

Blake closed the file and clasped his large hands atop it. 'Against the Party, one presumes. Beth, it's a very serious charge, and one that was upheld in court. We never know our loved ones as well as we think we do …' He trailed off, hoping she'd fill in the gaps herself and stop asking questions.

She looked down at her hands. 'How many years was he given?' she asked in a small voice.

Long enough that he will die in prison. 'Fifteen years, Beth,' he said, as gently as he could manage.

She squeezed her eyes shut. He wanted to go around his desk and comfort her, but he was certain she would refuse. Instead, he offered his handkerchief over the desk. She shook her head.

'This letter will get you and your siblings into Hohenschönhausen.' He picked up a letter and tapped it against his palm. 'This isn't typical, Beth. I'm doing you a favour, and one that I don't think I will be able to repeat for you. Inmates of the prison are among the worst East German traitors. They are rarely allowed visitors.'

Beth nodded, and he handed her the letter.

'Go now,' he said, looking at the clock on the wall. It was just after ten in the morning. 'I'll call your siblings' places of work and have them released for the day. They will meet you at the gates. There's a map in the envelope that shows you how to get there.'

…

Beth had been waiting at the gates of Hohenschönhausen Prison for nearly thirty minutes when she saw Maggie hurrying toward her. She was flushed with exertion and her eyes were wide.

'What's happening? Is daddy being released?'

Beth's smile faltered. She'd just been about to tell her sister the good news – that they were allowed to see him finally – but now she was going to dash Maggie's hopes instead. 'Oh – no. We're visiting him. Just this once.'

Maggie's face fell. She looked at the prison behind Beth. It was made of brown breezeblocks topped with barbed wire fences, and guard towers posted every few dozen metres. Maggie sighed. 'Oh – I'd hoped … Never mind. It took me ages to find this place. Did you know it's not on any maps? It's greyed out, like it doesn't exist. I had to keep asking directions.'

Beth looked up at the walls. Why did the Stasi feel the need to deny the existence of this place? Was it because the people in there were so dangerous, or because of the things that went on in there?

They waited another thirty minutes but Shawn didn't appear. 'Maybe he wasn't allowed to leave his post,' Beth said, stamping her feet. They were numb with cold.

Maggie was less optimistic. 'Or maybe he didn't want to. You know he thinks daddy is a traitor. Come on, let's go inside.'

Beth took out the commandant's letter and showed it to the guards at the gate. Both girls were looked over with suspicion and told to wait. After another thirty minutes two heavyset women with hard looks and unforgiving hairstyles took them by the arms and marched them inside. They were taken separately into small rooms and told to strip.

Beth laughed, a nervous bray, thinking she'd misheard. The grim woman wasn't laughing. 'I'm just here to visit my father,' Beth explained.

'Strip,' the woman said again.

A few minutes later Beth stood, barefoot and shivering on the linoleum, in her bra and knickers.

'Everything,' the woman barked.

Whatever you have to endure, Beth told herself, daddy's had a thousand times worse.

When she was naked, her hands clasped about herself and goose bumps covering her body, the woman produced a clipboard and began a staccato of questions. 'Name? Address? Date of birth? Medications? Medical conditions? Parents' names? Addresses? Party affiliations? Criminal convictions?'

Finally, when Beth thought she was turning blue, the questions stopped and she was told to get dressed. The woman left the room. Beth wondered why on earth she'd had to be naked for that. Neither she nor her clothes had been searched.

When she had dressed Beth went outside and found Maggie. She could tell from the look of quiet horror on her face that she'd been subjected to the same induction.

They were taken deeper into the prison. The only windows were small, high up, and barred. The surfaces were unfinished concrete, and the air was filled with the stench of disinfectant and misery. They passed through metal gate after metal gate, each one guarded and locked behind them.

Beth gave Maggie a worried look. They were deep inside the prison now. Down distant corridors she thought they heard the echo of voices or the clang of a heavy metal door.

'Wait here,' the woman who'd questioned Beth told them, and they waited again, this time outside an unmarked door.

Several minutes later it was opened. A large man in a guard's uniform look at the girls and asked their names, and then stood back to allow them inside.

'Daddy!' Both girls hurried into the room.

Hershel sat at a metal table inside a small, artificially lit room. His beard and hair had been shaved off, and he looked up at his daughters for several moments like he didn't recognise them.

Beth went to hug him but was prevented by the guards. They were told to sit in the chairs. They sat, looking at Hershel's manacled hands that were chained to the table top. Beth noticed that the table was bolted to the floor.

She turned to the guard. 'Can't you uncuff him, just for a moment? We went through so many locked gates. You know he isn't going anywhere.'

The guard ignored her, his eyes fixed on a spot over her head.

Beth sighed. 'Daddy, how are you? The commandant said you've been convicted, but we weren't even told you had a court date.'

Hershel looked back and forth between his daughters, his eyes hollow and tired, but a smile beginning to twist at his mouth, as if he'd forgotten how. 'My girls,' he said in a shaky voice. 'How beautiful you are, my girls.'

Maggie leaned forward. 'Daddy, what's happened to you? We haven't been told anything.'

Hershel was silent for so long Beth thought he wasn't going to answer.

'We shouldn't talk about that,' Hershel said finally. 'There isn't anything to be done. It's all right, my girls.'

Beth felt her chest tighten. What was he talking about? He was being kept in here like an animal in a cage. Her father wasn't a criminal.

'Beth said that you were charged with political crimes. You never did anything illegal in your life.'

Hershel ignored the question. 'How's Shawn? How's my son?'

The girls exchanged glances. 'He couldn't come,' Maggie said. 'But we think about you every day. All of us.'

Hershel nodded. 'You girls promise me something.'

'Anything, daddy,' Beth said.

He looked between them for a long time. 'You girls gotta keep yourself safe. You gotta to look forward to the future, not backward. And you can't let yourself worry about me. It's all right, my darlins'.'

Beth stared at him. It wasn't all right. It was so far from all right, him in here, beaten down, looking smaller and more alone than she'd ever seen him in her life. He was her father. He was the strong one. The one who looked after the rest of them, and he was in here for no good reason. Beth felt tears slip down her cheeks.

'How is it, daddy? How is it all right?' Maggie's voice cracked, and she was crying too. They couldn't hold Hershel's hands so they held each other's.

Hershel took a long, slow breath. 'It's all, all right.'

…

Maggie and Beth walked stiffly arm in arm away from the prison, neither of them speaking. When they'd turned a corner and left it far behind them Maggie pulled away and let out a long, agonised cry, bending over. It was a cry of grief and anger, but mostly of frustration.

'How can he tell us it's all right? It's not fucking all right!' Maggie said, straightening up.

Beth, as angry as Maggie was, shook her head. Maggie had said all along that daddy wasn't getting out. Beth wondered if she'd imagined him as dead, not locked up, which might have made things easier for her. Dead might be better than in that prison. But seeing him in there brought reality into focus: daddy was in prison, and there was nothing they could do to get him out.

'This is supposed to be –' Maggie kicked the brick wall they were standing next to – 'a society. Courts! Legal process! It's not fair.'

'Maggie, keep your voice down,' Beth hissed. 'Throwing a tantrum in the street isn't going to solve anything.' She took Maggie's arm and marched her toward their flat. 'Blake's not going to help me with this. If he knows more …'

'Of course he knows more,' Maggie spat. 'He's the fucking commandant of our sector. He's probably the one who had him arrested.'

Beth pictured Blake behind his desk, calmly perusing Hershel's file, putting it away again, saying there wasn't anything to be done. She could almost see the lies hanging in the air. He knew. He knew exactly why her father was in prison. What was he hoping, that she'd see her father in that dreadful place and be ... grateful to him? Fall in love with him?

The file. The file might still be on the commandant's desk.

Beth stopped short. 'I have to go. Back to headquarters. Are you all right to get home?'

'Beth, wait. What are you going to do?'

Beth was already hurrying away. 'Daddy's file. I need to read it for myself.'

…

Beth sat in the coffee shop a few doors down from Stasi Headquarters, nursing the same cup of coffee for nearly three hours. It was on the opposite side of the street and from where she sat she could see the front entrance.

Commandant Blake left at six pm. Lori followed ten minutes later. Beth stood, paid for her coffee, and left.

At the entrance she smiled at the receptionist and headed for the lift. The sixth floor was quiet. She knew, from previous, awful experience, that the commandant didn't lock his door. Thankfully she knew both Lori and Blake had gone home. She hoped that he didn't lock his door out of carelessness, rather than because he never left sensitive items lying around.

She switched his office light on and went to the desk. There were files and letters and documents all over it. She started sorting through them, looking for the manila folder she'd seen in his hands earlier that day. She opened one.

"GUNTER" arrived home at 19:40 with "ISABELLA". They discussed the most recent escapes via Checkpoint Charlie and decided that the two attempts were unrelated. Mention was made of "ISABELLA'S" ex-husband, "PARTY MEMBER 52" …

Nothing to do with Hershel. She moved on.

She opened another and there was her father's name. The first pages were his prison mugshot, identity documents, birth certificate, marriage certificate … Beth flicked through, looking for a charge sheet. Then she spied something familiar. Her mother's handwriting. It was on envelopes addressed to 'The Greenes'. They'd been posted from West Berlin.

Beth's breathing stopped. They'd never received any letters. All of the envelopes had been torn raggedly open. She pulled out a sheet of paper. It was dated three months' earlier and handwritten.

My darlings, I am growing worried. I haven't heard a thing from any of you. I have taken legal advice and they tell me my best chance of getting you out is to stay in West Berlin. What has happened to your father?

The East German government may let you be sold to the West. I have read about it happening, for some people. You need to apply from you side of the Wall, but is it a good idea? I have heard that it may be a scam, a way of traitors to identify themselves of their own free will. There are rumours that those who apply are put in prison, or watched. I don't know what to do. Please write.

The next was dated just a fortnight earlier.

Please, I am desperate to hear from you. I need to know that you know I have not deserted you. I think about you every moment and I am in contact with the authorities weekly trying to get you out, but the Americans tell me there is nothing that they can do. There are so many families separated. I am losing hope. I love you, but I feel your love fading the longer this silence continues.

'Don't bother reading any more. They're all the same.'

Beth looked up at the sound of the hard, masculine voice. Blake was standing in the doorway, his arms by his sides and his chin lifted. There was an expression on his face that she'd never seen before. One of hate and menace. Perhaps a little hurt, too, and jealous possession, like he was disappointed in Beth. His Beth.

She was seeing his true face at last.

…

To see Nine Bright Shiners' fan art for this story, go to darkeningwater dot deviantart .com, and don't forget to leave her a comment here or on her Deviant Art page telling her what you think. The piece is titled "Beth Greene and Commandant Blake dance".

Isn't it amazing? I squealed with delight when I first saw it. She's captured their likenesses so perfectly, and the Governor looks dangerously handsome in his Stasi uniform.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!