Sixteen

Pain, of all kinds, on all levels, had been the main sensation Georg had experienced in the last sixty hours.

Fortunately for Georg, pain was something that was not foreign to him. He had his fair share of battle scars from his navy days, some of which had been very serious. But he had never experienced the feeling of being trapped, completely trapped, by pain of all kinds.

The beatings he could handle. As a matter of fact, those were the easiest to take in that horrible place. He knew better than to listen to anything Zeller said to him during it, and he knew he could take the physical blows. So, during those times, he would simply close his eyes, protect his head as best he could, and lose himself in a memory from home. This method always got him through the beatings. But being alone was much worse; then he only had himself. His body would ache from the physical pain, and there was no comfortable position he could be in on the cold stone floor. Worse than that were the thoughts that ran through his head, the constant worrying about his children and Maria. If this is what they're doing to me, what in God's name are they doing to them? He didn't even have a window in his room to tell him the time of day it was. All he had to go on was when he felt tired and when his meager meals would be brought to him.

Hell can't be worse than this…

When the heavy door to his cell was pushed open, Georg immediately closed his eyes and brought his hand to his head. He hadn't been beaten for a long while, and he should have known better than to hope they would leave him alone. Here we go again…

"There he is," he heard Zeller bark. "Patch him up and then get him out of here. I'm done." His footsteps faded away down a hallway, and Georg became confused. Done?

Taking a chance, he slowly opened his eyes and peaked through his fingers. The face he saw was not the one he expected, but it brought him no end of relief.

"Oh, my friend…" said Hans softly, looking at Georg. He was crouched beside him and opening up his medical bag quickly. He heard the sound of his cell door closing. "I wish I had known…"

Rightly so, Georg felt no anger for his friend. He only felt relief to see an ally, even if nothing would change after this. "How could you have?" he managed to croak. This was the first time he had spoken since he'd been captured, and his voice was hoarse.

"Roll over on your back for me," said Hans, and Georg slowly complied, wincing as he did so. Every part of his body ached. He heard Hans sigh and open his shirt. "You may have fractured a rib, hold still."

Georg remained silent as Hans examined him and treated him. He did not complain; he trusted Hans implicitly. He was vaguely aware that someone else was in the room. When he looked, he thought he recognized the telegram delivery boy wearing a cadet's uniform. It made him sick to think that such a boy had tried to go after his daughter, and pointedly kept his gaze away from the misguided youth.

"What time…what day…" he asked after a while.

Hans checked his watch. "About a quarter after ten. You were taken Friday night – it's Monday now."

Georg didn't know if he should feel surprised or relieved. Not as long as I thought then… "What about…Hans, my children…"

"I can't say anything now, Georg," said Hans regretfully. "It's not safe to do so."

Desperate, Georg grabbed Hans's collar so they could lock gazes. He looked into Hans's eyes, trying to get any information this way. Hans did not resist, wanting to give Georg something. To his relief, Georg saw no great sadness or regret in Hans's eyes, but instead an expression of reassurance. The message was clear: I can't say now, but you have no reason to fear.

Satisfied for now, Georg let go of his friend's collar, and allowed him to finish his work.

When Hans was finished, he sighed and said, "Well, safe to say you could be in much better shape. But honestly, Georg, this could be a lot worse. Only two fractured ribs, and no broken bones. Got lots of bruises and some cuts I've cleaned and bandaged as best as I can, but they will heal in a few weeks time. You're dehydrated and you haven't had much to eat; if this had been going on longer, that would have put you in real trouble, even if you had no bruises. So, for God's sake, take it easy while your body heals, Georg."

Georg sighed and nodded as much as he could without pain. His thoughts turned to Maria, as they so often did. What would she do in such a position? If it didn't hurt to breathe, he would have chuckled. A small memory gave him his answer…

Marta moaned pitifully as Maria cleaned her scraped knee. Georg held his seven-year-old securely on his lap, and Maria was kneeling before them, her face calm and sympathetic as she worked. Once she was done, Maria wiped the tears on Marta's cheeks away. "I'm going to put the cream on now before I bandage your knee. It's going to sting, so hold on to your papa's hand, all right?"

The little girl obeyed, and Georg gladly held her little hand in his big one. When Maria gently applied the cream, Marta closed her eyes tight and bit her lip to stop from crying out, even as silent tears fell down her cheeks. Georg had to smile at his daughter's show of bravery. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "That's my sweet heart."

"All done," Maria said with a smile once the bandage was firmly on.

Marta wiped her cheeks. "I'm sorry I ran so fast, Father," said Marta. "I know you say to always be careful."

"It was an accident, Marta," said Georg, setting her back on her feet. "I'm not angry at all. You've learned your lesson now, I think."

Marta nodded, looking down at her knee.

Maria noticed the sour look on her usually sweet face and chuckled. Catching Marta's eyes, she said, "Find the silver lining, Marta."

The sour look disappeared and became a thoughtful look. After a moment, Marta tentatively answered, "I could have scraped both knees."

Maria laughed and squeezed her hands. "That's right. Now, go and join your siblings outside again. They won't make you run anymore today."

Marta nodded and obeyed her governess. The two adults watched her disappear with proud, loving looks on their faces. Soon Georg's gaze shifted to Maria, his look becoming one of awe and admiration. She noticed it and asked, "What is it?"

"Find the silver lining," he said. "That's good advice."

Maria nodded. "What else can you do in these kinds of situations if you don't want to be miserable?" With that, Maria nodded at him and followed Marta back outside. Georg watched her the whole way.

Georg chuckled at the way she put it, but he was quiet. There had been a time when he wanted nothing more in life than to be miserable and angry. But not anymore. Thanks to his children…and thanks to her.

The memory gave him comfort beyond words. Maria would not want him wallowing in self-pity; she would want him to find a silver lining. So he took Hans's words to heart, knowing his state really could have been worse.

Hans packed up his medical bag and stood up, motioning to the young guard. "Rolf, help me please." Both men helped Georg get onto his feet; Georg felt confused at Hans using a first-name basis with this young man.

They walked Georg to the door, and Hans stood in front of him with a look of great regret and compassion. He placed both hands on Georg's shoulders with care. "I hope we will meet again someday, my friend. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Georg could feel this was a true goodbye, and that Hans knew more than he could reveal about the future. All Georg could do was nod his head slowly and say, "Be careful, Hans."

Hans nodded, and apologized with his eyes as he pulled something from his pocket. "I'm sorry," he said, and then Georg could see nothing but black.

Once the Captain's eyes were covered and his hands were bound, Rolf knocked on the cell door. In the next moment, it was opened by the other young guard working with them. Large sunglasses and the cadet's cap made it hard to see any distinguishing features.

Rolf held the Captain by the elbow, while Dr. Falk held his other elbow, guiding him down the long hallway. The other guard followed behind them. Rolf was thankful that the three of them encountered nobody on their way out of that terrible building, and he saw the Captain take a deep breath once in the fresh air. He certainly couldn't blame the older man, after being trapped in that hole.

Dr. Falk helped Georg into the back of his car, and Rolf took the seat beside him. The other guard took the passenger seat in front. Dr. Falk got the motor running, and then they were speeding away from the factory forever. As the car sped on, Dr. Falk spoke in a low voice to the other guard, so that Rolf and the Captain couldn't distinguish what they were saying. Rolf didn't really try to; he knew the other guard would tell him everything once they were on the moving train.

The eighteen-year-old couldn't help but stare at the man beside him. He sat as straight as a block of wood; no muscle in his body was relaxed. His torn, dirty clothes couldn't disguise all of the bruises on him, and Rolf knew it must hurt him to be so tense. The bound hands were clenched into tight, shaking fists. No wonder I've always been a bit afraid of him.

Finally, the train station came into view. But Dr. Falk did not stop the car at or near the entrance. Instead, he drove around the building until he was by a secluded side entrance, close to one of the tracks. A train was stopped there, and a whistle from far down the front said it was nearly time for it to go.

Once the car was stopped, Dr. Falk and the other guard got out of the car, and helped the Captain out as Rolf too exited the vehicle. The other guard got a suitcase out of the trunk and handed it to Rolf. The doctor looked at him and the other guard intently, and said, "The baggage car is the second last of the train. Sneak him on when no one is looking, but hurry. Once the train is moving, you can start, but don't move to the compartment until you're out of Austria. You'll hear the announcement."

Rolf nodded, and so did the other guard. He clapped both of their shoulders and said, "Good luck," before going back to his car and driving away. Once out of sight, Rolf and the other guard nodded at each other and each took an elbow of the Captain's. When they reached the edge of the building, the other guard peaked around to see if anybody – crew members or conductors – were walking around. There was nobody. Quickly, the two of them dragged the Captain – as gently as they could while hurrying – away from the building and towards the baggage car. Rolf opened the door, and the other guard guided the blinded and bound Captain up the steps and into the safety of the luggage hold.

The inside of the car had minimum lighting with cheap electric bulbs above them, and the suitcases of luggage was abundant, forming small mountains and hills of cases. Once inside, the other guard led Georg to one of the walls and stood him there so he could lean against it. The minutes passed in tense silence until finally, after a shrill whistle in the distance, the car jerked, and then began to move.

Both Rolf and the other guard breathed a great sigh of relief. The hard part was over. The other guard, after removing the sunglasses, approached Georg, taking a pocket knife out so the ropes binding his wrists would be cut. "I'll get our change of clothes out," said Rolf, turning around so he could do just that.

But before he could take out the last item of clothing, he heard the sound of the briefest shriek and something being shoved against the wall. He turned around and was met with a horrible sight.

The Captain, his hands now free but still blindfolded, was holding the other guard against the wall with one hand. Around the other guard's throat. "Haven't you people brought me low enough? You let me go now, or I swear to God..." The other guard tried gasping for breath, tried pulling the hand away, but it was no use - even in his condition, the Captain was very strong.

"CAPTAIN, NO!" screamed Rolf, rushing towards the Captain and trying to pull him away. The other guard's efforts had now stopped. "LET HER GO! LET HER GO NOW!"