Chapter 16 - One week later (Wednesday); Bremerhaven, Germany

Being a Captain in the Kriegsmarine had certain advantages, and Georg was making use of anything he could.

His pace through the streets of Bremerhaven was brisk and purposed. Activity buzzed all around him. Patrons went into shops, mothers guided their children, and cars sped by. By all accounts, the city looked and felt not too different from the heart of Salzburg.

But the uniform scratching his skin prevented any iota of comfort. He pulled on his collar, knowing the burning sensation was purely psychological. Yet he felt permanently filthy. When he showered, he couldn't scrub himself clean enough.

The uniform, however, had its uses. When he'd said he was walking into the city during a break in tactical meetings, other officers had frowned. But being a Captain, and one with a near mythic reputation, allowed him some freedoms. And recently, doors previously closed to him somehow seemed to be open. Just the night before, he'd been told he would be granted more privileges and would be allowed more time to himself. He had no idea what had happened to grant him these new freedoms, but he wasn't going to question it.

He wasn't foolish enough to believe he was completely free. For he may be able to get his way around lieutenants and other captains, but he knew they didn't trust him. Not after what had happened in Salzburg. He'd somehow been granted leeway, and he was going to make use of it. But he knew they were watching him. He'd noticed the agent in civilian clothes two blocks earlier. They just needed one false move, and decorated war hero or not, he'd be in the brig.

They needn't worry. Georg had no intention of doing anything out of line. His resolve to be the perfect, obedient Captain had not wavered. He would play along. He'd accepted his commission for the U-994, and hoped his request for the schematics was received as professional thoroughness. A Captain needed to know his vessel, afterall. And he'd poured over every inch of the sub's plans, knowing it inside and out before he'd even set foot on it. He was being very patient, despite every nerve in his body alive and eager to spring into action.

The time would come.

He also had to start looking into the next steps. He had to know where his family was. Despite his new privileges, every inquiry he'd made about Maria's condition had been met with vague assurances and threats to keep him in constant dismissals were threatening his composure, and he still wasn't certain if they were bluffing about whether or not she was even in their custody.

If he allowed himself to think about her for even more than a moment, he would break. So he forced himself to remain focused on his plan, and he was mostly successful. It was only in the middle of the night, when he'd wake up shouting her name, that the weight of grief consumed him.

It was because of those nightmares threatening his sanity that he decided it was safe enough to make his own inquiries. It was the first time he'd been permitted off base, and even aware of the spies watching his every move, he knew it would be worth the risk.

He spotted his destination: a pay phone at the end of the street. He half-assumed every line of communication was being monitored, but a call to Switzerland would be brief. Knowing his children were safe would be a tremendous boost to his well being.

The line rang several times, each one cutting through Gerog's nerves. He was almost tempted to give up when it finally clicked. "Max?" he shouted.

"Who is this?" It was a woman's voice. It was surprisingly clear.

"This is Captain von Trapp," he said. "My family is staying there." For a moment he thought he dialed the wrong number.

"Captain?" The voice was softer, and Georg cringed at himself for forgetting the landlady's name.

"Yes?"

"They left a week ago," she said.

Georg stared out the window. "They what? Where?"

"They didn't say, sir."

Georg swore. He knew Max was wise not to say anything, but he was short on time. He prayed his friend had taken the children to Jesolo and not done anything foolish. "Thank you," he said and hung up. He leaned his head against the glass, his mind spinning. He didn't know the telephone number for the Lang residence in Italy. He looked at his watch. His allotted time was rapidly dwindling. But he was so close. He picked up the phone again.

Five minutes later, Georg's gaze was steady as a new call went through. The ringing was unfamiliar, and as it had before, each ring sent chills down his spine. If this wasn't the Lang residence, he would have to wait a few days before attempting again. But the pull was too strong. If he could speak to Nikolas, to learn anything about Maria…

The reality that she wasn't with the Langs forged itself into his head. Or that she was dead… Georg squeezed his eyes tight. No, he mustn't think like that. He had to have faith. God wasn't high on his list of preferred subjects, and he struggled to grasp at even a fraction of Maria's beliefs. She had never waivered, and he owed it to her to try to be just as strong.

If she was alive or dead, he would know if someone would pick up the damn phone.

"Hello?"

Georg sagged. "Nikolas?"

"Georg!?"

Adrenalin shot through him. "Nikolas, thank God." He glanced upward, offering an apologetic smile.

"Where are you?"

"I don't have much time, Nikolas. But are the children there?"

"Yes, they're all here, Georg."

The Captain closed his eyes in relief. They were safe.

" Are you all right?" Nikolas asked.

"I'm not in the brig." Georg braced himself, trying to prepare for the impossible task of accepting the worst news. "Maria?" He could barely say her name.

"She's here, Georg. I got her out. She's alive. Weak, but alive."

A sob Georg didn't know he'd been holding escaped. He nearly collapsed in the phone booth. "Oh, God…"

"Yes, she's fighting, Georg. The children are helping her."

Georg could only nod, his vision blurring. She's alive, she's alive, echoed in his head, making him dizzy. All the emotion he'd forbidden himself to feel in the past few days swarmed upon him, and he gasped aloud, trying to catch his breath.

Once again, Maria had brought him back to life; this time by refusing to give up where he'd teetered on the brink of despair. And for the first time in days, he dared to believe things could improve. He finally saw a small glimmer of light piercing through his dark thoughts, and he seized it. It would give him the strength he needed until he returned to his family.

"What will you do?"

The question pulled Georg back to the moment. Things started to crystalize around him, and resolve filled him anew. For he did have a plan, a foolish, risky and dangerous plan, but his entire body felt energized and alert. It was time to do something. It was time to go home.

He knew he couldn't say anything on the telephone. "I will continue to serve," he said.

There was a pause. Nikolas understood. "That is what is best."

Georg looked around, seeing the civilian spy trying not to watch him. He almost smiled, he felt so much lighter. "Tell my children I love them. And I am proud of them."

"Of course."

"And tell Maria I'm sorry."

"I will tell her that you love her."

"More than anything."

There was another pause. "Georg?" Nikolas's voice was hesitant. Georg frowned and looked about the streets, searching for those spying on him.

"Yes…"

"Zeller," his friend started. "Do you have access to a telegram?."

Georg froze. "Yes…I just…" Did Nikolas have something to do with the recent freedoms he'd been given?

"Check it tonight."

The Captain's brow furrowed. That wouldn't be a problem, but impatience made his hand twitch.

"Godspeed, Georg."

Panicked, Georg leaned closer to the phone. "Nikolas, I - "

"Be safe, Georg," Nikolas cut him off. "Be smart."

The line went dead, and Captain von Trapp could only stare, his mind racing. Slowly, he placed the phone on the cradle, waves running over him. Nikolas's cryptic message fizzled in his mind as he processed what he'd learned.

They were all there. They were safe. She was safe. She would recover. They were waiting for him.

He stared outside the phone booth, listening to the noises of the city around him. Traffic and occasional shouts. A gust of wind pushed against the door, making a strange whistling sound. Georg took a long moment to soak in what he'd just learned. It was the best possible news. His children were safe. Maria was safe.

The Nazis no longer had any power over him. Their vague dismissals about Maria were meaningless. They couldn't threaten him… they couldn't even touch him. He felt freer; he nearly laughed aloud.

But what was it Nikolas had said? Something about Zeller. Georg's face fell as his eyes narrowed. What did Nikolas know about Zeller, and what could Georg do about it? There was little doubt how Georg would react if he ever saw that man again. But he couldn't do anything until he read that telegram…he had to get to it before anyone else did. That wouldn't be a problem. The restrictions placed upon him had been reduced, and he now had a vague idea of whom he had to thank for that. Glancing at his watch, his mind whirled on how he could monitor the telegram, and he knew his friends would send something he would be able to understand.

Perhaps he didn't need to put his own ludicrous plan into action after all. Maybe, just maybe, things were turning in his favor.

He looked skyward again, wondering if God would accept his apology for hating Him so. Because all was not lost. Georg could continue, but now it was different. His focus sharpened, and he felt the need for patience wasn't as difficult as it had been just a few minutes earlier. Oh, he still was desperate to get to his family. How he yearned to be surrounded by his children; even their arguing would be beautiful to him. And the ache for Maria's gentle strength still made his stomach twist. How could he last until he held her again?

But there was something cutting through the despair, something that made him feel lighter. It was something he hadn't felt in days.

Hope.

To be continued…