Zeller's smirk curled into a malicious grin as Georg's face thundered with unrelenting rage. His iron grip clutched at Max's shoulder so hard that the impresario thought it was about to pop out of its socket. Knowing what his friend was capable of when his infamous temper got the better of him, Max placed an apprehensive hand on Georg's back, silently warning him not to lose his head when there were women and children in the vicinity. The impenetrable silence enveloped the atmosphere like a disease, the intensity of the anger emanating from the difference corners of the room trapping the parties in a suffocating vacuum.
"I believe the lady asked you a question, Captain," Zeller smirked provocatively breaking the silence, "did you miss her?"
"What the hell are you doing here.." Georg growled, Max's grip tightening on his jacket as he attempted to wrench away from his friend and lunge closer to his enemy.
"Georg!" Max hissed, subtly pulling him back before he had the chance to do something reckless. It simply wouldn't do to attack a Nazi officer mere days after an annexation that many people considered to have taken place peacefully. God only knew what the Nazis were capable of but Max was certain he didn't want to find out right here in the drawing room.
Georg was using every ounce of his willpower not to fly across the room and throttle the Nazi bastard who stood so unwelcome in his home, and if it hadn't been for Max's influence, he would surely have a murder on his hands. He'd killed hundreds of men in battle when his duty had called for it, but never in anger, never for retribution - and he imagined in this case that it would be particularly satisfying to wrap his hands around the Nazi rat's scrawny little neck until the bones broke under his fingers.
"Well, that's hardly a gracious welcome now is it," Zeller tutted with mock offence, taking a leisurely swig of Georg's whisky, "I thought you said he would be reasonable Elsa?"
The Baroness's perfectly made-up face suddenly betrayed a flicker of nervousness as all eyes fell on her, but she soon recovered, patting her coifed hair absent-mindedly and fixing her features with an aristocratic smile.
"Georg darling, I thought perhaps it was time we all put this little misunderstanding behind us," she trilled, ignorant to the imminent danger written across his livid features, "as I said to you before, it's important that everyone gets along these days. And Wolfgang agreed to discuss it with me -"
"You mean to say," Georg interrupted viciously, taking an intimidating step towards her, "that this - meeting up with the man who attacked me in my own home - this is what your business was in Vienna?!"
The words seeped dangerously from his mouth like a bitter curse, his teeth gritted against the abject horror unfurling in his stomach. He realised, with dread, that it had been Elsa's plan all along to stage some kind of deluded reconciliation between himself and his Nazi attacker. The utter absurdity of it, the presumptuous insolence behind her potentially catastrophic actions, it caused the bile to rise in his throat.
"Well it's not like I could've told you darling!" Elsa tittered, amused, "you're stubborn enough as it is, I knew you wouldn't see reason if I suggested a meeting - even though it's quite clearly in everybody's best interests."
"Quite right Elsa," Zeller chimed in, taking several steps closer, "in times like these it seems futile to hold grudges with your fellow countrymen."
"Precisely, Wolfgang," Elsa smiled in agreement, "I knew I had a better chance of convincing you this way Georg. Surely you can put male pride aside in times like these."
"Elsa. Don't.." Max warned, watching the vein in Georg's head thunder against his skull, his friend quite clearly rendered speechless in his fury.
"I wouldn't speak like that to the lady if I were you, Detweiler," Zeller snapped unexpectedly, "she has one or two friends in high places."
Elsa smiled sheepishly, avoiding Georg's blackened stare, "only the ones you introduced me to during the Fuhrer's speech in Heldenplatz, I'd hardly call them friends just yet."
Georg felt sick. How could he possibly have misread this woman so badly? He'd either been entirely blind or entirely lost when he'd allowed her into his life. When he'd first met her, she had seemed like a graceful, diplomatic woman of experience - in many way she had brought some meaning back into his life and been his saviour. But he must've been so consumed by the grief that followed after his wife's death that he'd been completely ignorant to the kind of person that Elsa Shraeder really was. Manipulative, greedy, possessive and easily influenced by money and power.
"You make me sick," Georg snarled through gritted teeth, directing his insult at Zeller despite the fact that it held equally true for Elsa.
Before the stunned baroness or Nazi rat had a chance to retort, the palpable tension was pierced by the innocent pattering of little feet as an excitable Marta and Gretl appeared in the doorway.
"Father, uncle Max.. guess what!" Both girls cried simultaneously, running to their father with oblivious excitement. It was only when their eyes fell on the intimidating man standing a few feet away that they stopped dead in their tracks, their happy little faces falling in fear as they slunk timidly behind their father's legs in hiding - their previous intentions completely forgotten.
"What have we here?" Zeller cooed sickeningly, never taking his venomous eyes off Georg's as he took several threatening steps closer.
"Such beautiful daughters, Captain," he sneered suggestively, "I remember them from the party, of course." He was close enough now that Georg would be able to reach out and break his jaw with very little effort if he tried. Still, he kept his cool, unwilling to reduce himself to Zeller's level of barbarianism, especially in front of his girls. He squared up to his enemy assertively, like a lion protecting its cubs. But he was suddenly frozen to the spot in outrage when the rat reached down to where a trembling Marta clung to her father's leg and ran a solidarity finger down the child's cheek painstakingly slowly, his eyes filled with a depraved mirth as he watched her squirm.
Flames of unrelenting, protective rage exploded in Georg's chest and without warning he lunged forward, grabbing an unsuspecting Zeller by the throat and slamming his body against the nearby wall, pinning him by the neck with surprising strength. He heard Elsa's shriek of surprise, heard Max usher quickly for his children to take shelter behind him, and the blood pounded in his ears as he glared into the deadened eyes of the man who'd fallen victim to his tightening grip.
"Do not think for one minute that I won't kill you without a second thought if you even think of touching my children again!" he spat, mere millimetres from Zeller's reddening face. He was closing his fist around the man's throat with alarming force, lost to his unyielding hatred, lost to his need for retribution. This Nazi scumbag had very nearly killed him and had come very close to ruining what little life he had left once he'd awoken. He had nearly robbed Georg's children of their only remaining parent, he'd nearly broken the heart of the woman Georg loved. And as the anger, the hurt, the turmoil, the bitterness rose in his chest like a bitter venom, he realised he was entirely ready to end this man's life.
It was only when his beautiful Maria, his anchor, his heart, his lifeblood, suddenly appeared in the doorway - her face utterly crestfallen with fear as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her - that he loosened his grip on Zeller's throat, her calming presence bringing him gradually to his senses.
Slowly he released his unwelcome guest, straightening his tie and stepping away from him as the whole room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He wondered briefly whether Zeller would retaliate but without his henchmen, the rat knew he was at a significant disadvantage. In the corner of his eye, Georg noticed Maria taking the opportunity to hurry over to Max to rescue the frightened little ones and he was met with a tender wave of gratitude that this extraordinary woman was a part of his life.
"You should take more care to treat your comrades with respect Captain," Zeller sneered, "especially since we shall be fighting for the same cause."
Georg's eyes narrowed, "How did you know -"
"That you'd accepted the Fuhrer's commission offer?" Zeller interrupted, his delight evident, "I make it my business to know everything about everyone."
"Well in that case you'll be aware of the deal I've made with your beloved Furher," Georg retorted casually.
Zeller's eyes became slits as he glared at Georg in confusion, but he said nothing, the tiniest glimpse of alarm flashing across his rigid features.
"I answered the telegram accepting my post, but on one condition," Georg explained with satisfaction, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
Zeller laughed coldly, "what makes you think you have any influence in negotiations with Herr Hitler?"
"The Navy of the Third Reich is in desperate need of U-boats in light of the threat of warfare, and Hitler, quite flatteringly, believes I'm the sole man for the job," Georg reported lazily, enjoying Zeller's obvious discomfort, "He's of the impression that I'm invaluable to his cause. So I've accepted his offer on one condition," He paced slowly in front of his enemy, taking great satisfaction in the Nazi's growing anxiety.
"I have accepted on the basis that you, Herr Zeller, will be stripped of your post, stripped of your rank, stripped of your livelihood, and imprisoned for your vicious crimes against myself and my family."
It was true - Georg had answered the Fuhrer's telegram in the affirmative, as he and Maria had discussed. And in doing so, he'd used his invaluable skills as a bargaining chip to negotiate Zeller's imminent arrest. Zeller was useful to Hitler, but Georg's years of U-boat experience made him indispensable. He had informed the Third Reich that he refused to work for a cause that employed a man who'd attacked him in cold blood inside the walls of his own home - and so they had granted his request.
Of course, the Furher had no idea that Georg planned to flee the country before he was called to duty, but by the time Hitler realised he'd been duped, the von Trapp family would hopefully be out of harm's way. Once the Furher realised Georg had deserted, he would most likely call for Zeller's immediate release - but if the rumours about Hitler's unpredictable temper were true, Georg was almost certain he'd be looking for someone to blame. With any luck, the buck would stop at Zeller, who's apparent negligence in monitoring Georg's activity would be enough to render him blameworthy for the von Trapp's escape. Maybe, just maybe, Zeller would rot in prison a little longer.
"Impossible!" Zeller barked uncertainly, a mix of fear and anger etching into his reddening features.
"Well I'm positively baffled that neither of you have been informed," Georg replied with mock surprise, looking from Zeller to a bewildered Elsa, "given the fact that you have so many... friends in high places.."
Maria had been watching this heated exchange from her place beside Max in the corner of the room, hugging the little ones to her body tightly. No one had dared move lest it should lead to another blow between the two men. As she watched Georg deliver the devastating news to a wild-eyed Zeller, she couldn't help but feel a fierce sense of pride for the man she loved. He could easily have pummelled the Nazi rat to a pulp, he could've squeezed the last breath from his throat - but he was an intelligent, honourable man who refused to endanger his family by stooping to Zeller's violent level. Instead, he had used cunning, intellect and strategy to strip Zeller of all the things that the Nazi had nearly robbed from him. Where Georg's prison had been a psychological one, Zeller's would be very much physical - separated from his family, his post and everything else he held dear.
"Well I wouldn't worry," Georg cooed with mirth, "I believe you'll be informed later today. I was told your arrest would be imminent."
"Oh Georg, come now is this really necessary?" Elsa's nonchalant tone interrupted the exchange, causing the blood to boil in his veins.
He rounded on her faster than a starving jaguar on a gazelle, "as for you," he snarled, "I couldn't care less who your friends are - but there is one thing I can tell you for damn certain - you have absolutely no friends here!" She looked entirely baffled, as though completely oblivious to her involvement in this godawful mess. She looked to Max for help but much to Georg's satisfaction he avoided her gaze, entirely unwilling to defend her.
"Georg, all I ever tried to do was help, darling!" She cried, "can't you at least be grateful for that?"
"Grateful?!" Georg barked, invading her personal space dangerously as a thundering scowl creased his forehead, "You manipulated my condition to suit your own benefit!" He watched the shock creep over her face as she realised she'd been exposed, "not only that, you negotiated my reconciliation with Nazi's and brought my attacker back into my home!"
The room buzzed with a heated silence as Elsa Shraeder was left, for once, entirely lost for words.
"Get out, the both of you," Georg demanded, his voice low and dangerous, "I hope to never see you again."
Nobody moved and the vein thundering against Georg's skull threatened to break through the skin.
"I said GET OUT!"
The room shook with the force of his demand and Zeller eventually took a crestfallen Elsa by the arm to lead her from the room.
"Mark my words Captain," Zeller hissed, squaring up to Georg as he passed, his face so close that Georg could see every pock mark, every capillary under the skin, "you'll pay for this. You all will."
When they finally left the room, Georg's shoulders sagged in relief and he rushed straight to his little girls, wrapping them in his arms and whispering words of reassurance into their hair. They clung to him, a little shaken but otherwise fine. Eventually he stood, meeting Maria's eye - and he found so much love, so much adoration, so much pride in her gaze, that he was suddenly left utterly breathless. He wanted her desperately, he wanted her whispered words of adoration in his ear, he wanted to feel her pulse thundering underneath his lips, he wanted to feel her bare silken skin under his fingertips. But all he could offer was a grateful smile, a silent acknowledgement that they had overcome the first hurdle together. That they would overcome all future hurdles by each other's sides.
"Where are the other children?" He whispered, wanting to ensure their safety.
"With cook in the kitchens," she murmured, "we were baking cakes to take their mind off.. Well, everything."
He nodded and eventually broke their heated gaze, turning to Max and reaching out to grip the impresario's hand in an appreciative shake, "I think it's about time I gave you a few long overdue explanations my friend."
Max smirked playfully, patting the back of his friends hand in a display of affection as he gripped it in his own, "I'm all ears old man."
A/N: so finally we're rid of Zeller and Elsa! I wanted to update quickly because of the cliffhanger so thanks for your patience. I think it would've been far too easy to allow Georg to just beat Zeller to a pulp - our honourable Captain is better than that! Also just a quick side note, anything I write about the Third Reich/The Anchluss has been researched beforehand so should be fairly accurate. It's only the dates and timeline that I've altered for the story. I hope you liked this update!