CHAPTER SUMMARY

Nico gets an important letter from his sister. Will experiences his first day as Hitler's new personal guard.

BEGINNING NOTES

Word Count: 3444
Rating: General Audiences
Content Warning: None

And all the characters are owned by Rick Riordan.

February 19, 1943

Dear Nico,

I hope that by the time this letter reaches you, you've found Rome more to your liking. Yes, I know that nowhere in Italy can compare to our native Venice, but the city that built the magnificent Roman Empire must be spectacular. There must be some great importance in the air, as it is here in Berlin, where the new German Empire begins.

Remember, you must do everything in your power to help Papà. He was appointed on the most crucial mission of his life. The task before him is both an honor and of the utmost importance to the survival of the great German-Italian alliance. We must stop the American forces from advancing, and that will only happen if Il Duce's government sees sense. We hear the most troubling rumors here that they are planning an armistice with the invaders. That cannot happen.

My dear Colonel Octavian has taken a special interest in you. Should you prove your worth, I suspect you'll be richly rewarded. I am counting down the days in earnest when I can marry my beloved Colonel so I may present you with a nephew on your return.

Heil Hitler,

Bianca di Angelo

P.S. It seems a new soldier will join us here in Berlin. I am very curious about how he will measure up. I suppose only time will tell.

_NICO_

The problem with Rome was that it was pretty hard to hate.

I mean it. The city itself was beautiful, atmospheric, and brimming with culture. Some places were crowded with people, and some were so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In the brief moments I didn't have much to do, I'd sneak to some of those quiet places and write my friends back in Venice or my sister Bianca in Berlin.

But I was usually busy. Papà was a senior member of Mussolini's government, and I was essentially his personal secretary. I spent a lot of time with him taking notes in meetings, or doing paperwork, or answering letters from this and that diplomat. A lot of said correspondence was from Berlin, which meant I spent a fair amount of time studying the German language, too.

Papà and I weren't merely government officials. We were secretly part of a small spy ring connected to the Italian resistance and American C.I.A. forces. Operation: Half-Blood. Our job was to feed whatever information we could to Agent Chiron, who would pass it on to Agent Grace and McLean, our contacts in Washington. We didn't have too many members, twenty at most, but that was probably for the best. The bigger the operation, the better chance you've got of getting caught.

My family, the di Angelo family, was Operation: Half-Blood's most valuable asset. My grandfather on my mother's side was a former diplomat in Washington from the days before Mussolini's grab for power. He and Mamma had died before Mussolini rose, which meant their reputations as respectable, Italian patriots were left intact. That gave my family a lot of clout. Add old money and aristocratic ties to that legacy, and you've got yourself a golden goose.

Agent Chiron put us to good use. With the CIA pulling some strings, Papà was easily appointed to Mussolini's government. A quick word here and there, and-what a surprise!-my sister happened to become engaged to one of Hitler's lackeys. My other sister, my half-sister Hazel (from Papà's second marriage), stayed at the spy headquarters in Venice and served as the go-between for all of us di Angelo's.

I knew my occupation was dangerous, but I didn't care. I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to be someone important. I wanted to be an asset to the liberation of my country and defeat the Nazi regime. I wanted to serve the causes I believed in with all my heart. Here, I could do that. And that was worth any risk I had to take.

The sun had long since set when Papà came back from Palazzo Braschi, Mussolini's headquarters. "I hope your day was more fruitful than mine," Papà grumbled, kicking off his shoes. "Meetings all day, if you can even call them that. Just a bunch of cowardly, sniveling, idiotic generals stroking Mussolini's ego and assuring him all's well on the front." He collapsed on our couch, exhausted, and rubbed his temples. "I swear, Italy may lose this war without our help from sheer incompetence alone."

"That would be nice," I said, plopping on the couch next to him. "I was going through the mail today, and-"

"Don't talk to me about work," Papà groaned. "I've had enough of that today." He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"Papà, it's important," I insisted.

"Shhh. I'm asleep."

I grabbed a pillow from the couch and started hitting him with it. "Wake up."

"No."

"Wake up."

"No."

"Wake up."

With lightning fast reflexes, Papà put me in a headlock and smothered me with his chest. I started to shove and hit him blind. Finally, he relented and let me go.

"I'm twenty-nine years old, Papà, you can't give me noogies anymore," I complained.

"Then don't wake me up."

"You weren't even asleep."

"This is why I told your mother I didn't want children."

"Low blow."

"Never discount the insults of an exhausted man."

I grabbed Bianca's letter from the coffee table in front of us. "I need to show you this," I said. "It's a letter from Bianca." Papà took it from me and scanned the contents. His eyes widened. "We need to show this to Castellan." Agent Luke Castellan was another Italian native, serving in King Victor Emmanuel's court. His father was some aristocrat, and an old friend of the King's.

"Exactly, that's why I was trying to wake you up." I grabbed my keys from the coat hook by the front door.

As usual, Papà groaned at the sight of them. "Can't we walk?"

"They live an hour away on foot and it's ten o'clock at night with no moon. No, we cannot walk."

Papà hated automobiles; he didn't trust them, called them 'metal death machines.' When Bianca first told him she was going to get her license, he looked at her like she was an alien and said, "By God, why?" When I told him the same the following year, he'd shaken his head and said, "So, you've fallen into their trap, too?"

The only reason I even owned an automobile was that Persephone, Papà's third and current wife, had bought one for me as a sort of peace offering after their wedding. Let's just say that she and I hadn't... gotten along during their engagement. Persephone was currently living with her mother in Greece; she'd been pregnant when the C.I.A. first contacted Papà about Operation: Half-Blood. The two of them decided it was best to keep her somewhere safe in case things went horribly wrong. She wrote often, and kept sending us pictures of my new half-sister, Macaria, who'd just turned seven months old.

Eventually, I dragged Papà into the auto and we headed to the Castellan's home, northeast near Villa Ada. Papà raced out of the car as fast as he could. With a sigh, I followed.

Papà knocked on the door, and Castellan's wife opened it. "You're here to see Luke?" she asked.

I nodded. "Is he busy?"

Mrs. Castellan rolled her eyes. "Always. Come in, I'll get him." She retreated back into the apartment, leaving the door open for us. We followed her inside.

"Luke!" she yelled through the closed bedroom door. "The di Angelo's are here to see you!"

"Tell them I'm busy!" came the response.

"Sleeping at eight p.m. is not busy!"

"I've been in meetings all day-!"

"And you have one more, which means-!"

"I'm trying to sleep-!"

"Get in here right now or I swear to Jesus Christ-!"

"God, don't blow your top! I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Good boy!"

"Thalia Castellan..." Papà dryly whispered to me. I did my best not to laugh in case she heard me.

Agent Castellan opened the door. "God, Thalia, could you at least close the front door before you shout like that?"

"What, have you been getting complaints?"

"Yes."

She kissed him on the cheek. "You really do sound half asleep," she said with a laugh.

"I know. Please, close the door."

You couldn't miss the affection in their eyes. I wondered if I'd ever find a marriage where we were secure enough in our relationship that we could scream the ever-loving piss out of each other. I rolled my eyes at the thought. As if I'd ever find a woman dumb enough to marry me for anything but a political leg-up. Love wasn't in the cards for me. I'd never fallen for anyone in my life. I couldn't even fathom what that would be like.

Agent Castellan turned to Papà and I. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

"I got a letter from Bianca," I said, pulling myself from my musings. I unfolded it as Papà and the Castellan's gathered around me. "Look here." I pointed to her P.S..

"'A new soldier will join us in Berlin,'" Mrs. Castellan read out loud. "Isn't Himmler looking for a new guard for Hitler?"

"Exactly," I said. "This new soldier has to be the one."

"We should put eyes on him," Agent Castellan said. "Being so close to Hitler... the things he might overhear would be invaluable."

"We're in agreement there," Papà said. "Perhaps a lady friend?"

"It worked with the Colonel," Agent Castellan agreed. "I don't see why it wouldn't work here."

"Annabeth Jackson," Mrs. Castellan suggested at once. "She's smart, and good at manipulation. She'd get in bed with him easily."

"Percy will love that," I said sarcastically. He was her husband, and a good friend of mine.

"Well, he'll have to suck it up," Mrs. Castellan shot back. I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing. Thalia Castellan was anything but lady-like.

"Are you sure?" Agent Castellan asked. "Sending Annabeth to Berlin will be dangerous." I didn't blame him for his concern. He'd known Mrs. Jackson since she was a little girl; he'd practically raised her.

"I know," Mrs. Castellan told him, "but she's smart and resourceful. She can handle it. She'll be fine."

"I'll write to Chiron at once," Papà said. "With any luck, she'll be in Berlin by the time this new soldier arrives."

_WILL_

The wait was agony.

Colonel Octavian took me to Hitler's personal office, where the man was likely hard at work doing... whatever it was he did each morning. I expected him to come out, or Colonel Octavian to take me in, but neither happened. Instead, Colonel Octavian pointed to the door and said, "Stand there."

"Yes, sir," I said, and stood where he was pointing.

"Good." Then, he turned and walked away. Leaving me standing there. In front of the door. Alone.

I stood there for hours, waiting for Hitler to come out, or someone to tell me to go in, or for something to happen.

I spent the morning wondering if I was close enough to the door that I'd get smacked in the face when it finally opened. I spent the afternoon wondering when I'd get to eat something. I spent the evening wondering why Hitler hadn't left that office all day-didn't he have meetings? What if he wasn't in there after all? What if I lost the Führer?

Just after sunset, I heard the doorknob turn. I turned the heel and moved to the side of the door in case I was close enough to get hit after all. I focused on a spot on the wall in front of me and forced my breathing to even out.

Here it comes, I thought. It all comes down to this.

One mistake, and I'd be dead.

The door opened, blocking my line of sight. After a moment, a figure stepped into view. I straightened my back, threw my hand into a salute, and bellowed, "Heil Hitler!" with as much gusto as possible.

The man in front of me turned.

He looked me over once.

"You'll do."

And he walked away. I shut the door behind him and followed at his heels.

I wasn't sure where we were going, and I didn't dare ask. We weaved through the unfamiliar halls until we stood in front of a pair of impressive-looking doors. "Wait here," Hitler said, and went inside. I turned my back to the door, and resumed what I was sure would become my usual stance.

Oh joy, I thought. I love this promotion. What an honor. What a use of my sharpshooting skills.

"Lieutenant Solace, what a pleasure," came a familiar voice a few feet to my left. I didn't dare turn in case some official saw me break protocol. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miss di Angelo come out of the nook she'd been standing in.

"Miss di Angelo," I said, still unable to look at her.

"At ease, Lieutenant," she said with a bit of a laugh. "No one will fault you for that. You aren't on the front lines."

I relaxed ever so slightly, but I was too afraid to do much more than that. "I must not leave my post, ma'am," I said.

"I'm not asking you to, I promise," she said with an easy smile. I liked her smile. It was warm, friendly, genuine... the first one I'd seen since the Nazis invaded Greece. No one had much to smile about anymore. "I'm waiting for my fiancé," Miss di Angelo explained. "He wanted to introduce me to the ambassador after the men finish playing in there."

"Playing?" I asked.

"Showing off," she said, half-joking. "We may be allies with Japan, but even brothers compare themselves."

"There is no comparison," I said, almost robotically. "Germany is the greatest nation in the world."

"You believe that?"

Her comment shocked me. This woman was engaged to a high ranking Nazi, and she was questioning Germany's exceptionalism? Was it a test of loyalty? Was she waiting for me to admit I wasn't as fond of Berlin as I should be? It didn't sound like it, but what other explanation could there be?

I didn't know what to say, so I changed the subject. "The Führer is meeting with an ambassador of Japan?"

Miss di Angelo nodded. "Admiral Ethan Nakamura. There's going to be a great dinner tonight in his honor. I've been helping to arrange it; my dear Colonel is so thoughtful to give me such an important task." She smiled at me again. "I've made sure to sit you with us."

"You don't need to trouble yourself with me, ma'am."

"It's no trouble. Besides, everyone needs a friend." I said nothing. She raised her eyebrows at me. "Am I wrong?"

"No," I admitted. "It is lonely."

"I know, I remember."

"Remember...?"

"When I came from Venice to marry Colonel Octavian," she explained. "You must've gathered from my name that I'm not from here."

"I didn't think about it," I admitted. "You speak German very well."

"As do you, Mr. Greece."

"Texas, actually."

"America?" She actually looked impressed. "You've been all over, haven't you, Lieutenant?"

"Indeed, ma'am," I said.

We heard clapping coming from the room behind me. I straightened my stance. Soon, the door opened, and a bunch of officers spilled out. Miss di Angelo picked Colonel Octavian out of the crowd. "Until next time, Lieutenant," she said with one last smile, then took her fiancé's arm and walked off.

It was a good while before Hitler allowed me to go to my room and get ready for Admiral Nakamura's reception. It felt good to shower, and even better to sit down for a minute. I'd been on my feet for at least twelve hours straight, without breakfast or lunch. I felt as though I was about to fall over.

I'd just finished dressing when I heard a knock at my door. "One moment!" I called, straightening my cuffs as I ran across the room. I opened the door; there was a woman on the other side, a beautiful woman with grey eyes and curly blonde hair. She looked like something off the silver screen of Hollywood, especially with the fancy dress she was wearing.

"I'm here to bring you to dinner, Lieutenant," the woman said.

"Does the Führer normally send beautiful women to collect his officers?" I asked. She laughed, and I laughed along with her. It felt good to laugh.

"No, no, I'm a friend of Bianca di Angelo's," the woman explained, a little flustered. "I'm in the city visiting, and she thought-"

"-that you should have a date," I finished for her. I calmed her nerves with a reassuring smile. "It would be a pleasure to escort you to dinner, Miss...?"

"Chase," she said. "Annabeth Chase."

"Lieutenant Will Solace, at your service, ma'am." I offered her my arm, and she took it. "I hope you know where you're going," I admitted. "I don't know my way around this place at all."

"Bianca told me where to go, and I have a good memory," Miss Chase assured me. "Follow me."

We chatted on our way to the reception. She was an incredibly interesting woman, fiery, intelligent, and confident, but kind, too. I could picture any man falling in love with her and then some. I'd heard that the right woman can help a man overcome his homosexuality-maybe Annabeth Chase would be my saving grace?

My heart sank when Miss Chase said, "We're almost there, the banquet's just around the corner." I peered around the bend and saw the doors of the reception hall, standing large and menacing, and I ached to sink into the corner and hide.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked. She nodded, though she looked a little confused (perhaps even startled) at the sudden vulnerability. "I really don't want to go in there."

"Your stomach begs to differ," she shot back with a mischievous smirk. I laughed for the second time since I'd met her. A new record.

"Has it been so loud?" I bit my lip, and the smile fell away. "I'm terrified, Miss Chase."

"Of what?"

I met her eye. The confusion she'd once displayed on her face was now replaced by concern. "My promotion happened so... so suddenly. I wasn't prepared for it-I'm still not. I'm sure that someday soon I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of the Führer or Admiral or someone else important and... face the consequences." My words dripped with deeper meaning. "I know that being here in Berlin is a great honor, but I wish the honor had gone to another Greek; someone more worthy of it than I."

Miss Chase took my hand in hers and squeezed it. Our relationship was far too young for such intimacy, but I didn't mind it so much. The warmth of her hand calmed my nerves a little.

"I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll stay by your side tonight, no matter what, and make sure that doesn't happen. But, even tomorrow, when I'm not beside you, you'll do just fine."

"How can you know that?" I asked.

"Because you're made of better stock than the rest of them. And it shows, even in one conversation."

I knew that Miss Chase was referring to my Aryan heritage, that she was saying that I was made of better stuff than the other Greeks... but, in my head, I twisted her words so I could pretend that she meant I was made of better things than the Nazis around me. That, somehow, the cloud of evil they spread hadn't corrupted my soul.

But it has, a little voice reminded me. You're wearing the uniform with a red band on your arm. You've spent years complicit in everything they're doing, sitting back and watching from the comfort of your barrack. Why does it matter that you have reservations when you shout "heil Hitler!" if you've never once raised a finger to save anyone but yourself and your family?

"You overestimate me, Miss Chase," I told her.

"No, Lieutenant, I don't think I do." She squeezed my hand. "Now, come on, you have an Admiral to impress."

Under the penetrating gaze of her grey eyes, I released her hand and once again offered her my arm. I straightened my back, puffed my chest, let my face fall free of emotion, and escorted my first real friend into the banquet.

END NOTES

Hey, look, I finally wrote a fic where Nico doesn't have massive daddy issues!

Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!

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