Helping Tamara to laugh again gave Roger renewed purpose. As usual, he practiced his jokes all week in anticipation of trying them out on her during her visits, but today had been the first time he had been able to get a reaction since they were taken by Millennium.

He had to wonder, though, if there was something else responsible for the change in her mood. As hilarious as he believed himself to be, he knew that a few dumb jokes could not possibly be the cause. Something must have happened that she wasn't telling him. Maybe she got some good news, but was sworn to secrecy. Although what good news she could have was beyond his ability to imagine. Dok had been ever so clear with him that the only forseeable future they had was in Millennium's stronghold, and it had only been a month.

Whatever prompted her smiles, though, he was grateful for it. Anything that kept her from giving up until he could get them out was fine in his book.

The truth was that it worried him to no end that she was under the care of a Nazi doctor. He knew all about Mengele, but was careful never to bring up that name or part of history. Tamara seemed to know little to nothing about the horrific experiments done in the name of science, and he did not want her to panic or break down in despair. For the moment she seemed to be unharmed, which was encouraging, but that didn't mean she was safe.

Tamara did not talk much about how she passed her days with Millennium, mostly asking how he was doing or agreeing to play games with him. Being as touch-deprived and starved for human contact as he was now, sometimes she would just sit quietly and stroke his arm. He assumed that if she was keeping something from him, it was out of guilt or a belief that she was protecting him somehow.

If only she didn't have to bear that burden.

The prison door opened, startling Roger out of his thoughts. It was late and he had already gotten his two meals for the day. To his surprise, in were walked two Millennium soldiers in custody, one of whom was swearing loudly while the other was quiet and stumbling about, barely able to walk straight.

"Wow! Drunk tank on a Sunday night. This is quite a surprise."

"Shut up, Scheiss-Ami." The soldier who said it hit one of the bars with his baton as he passed Roger's cell.

It was a good day. He would just have to work towards the next one. And after that, the next.

"Well, Herr Doktor, it seems your patient has not been following the doctor's orders."

Dok could always tell when his superior's normally cheerful voice was strained, and fortunately this was not one of those times. Which meant that although he needed to treat the matter seriously, he did not have to walk on eggshells and could be bold in his suggestions.

"We might want to think of it as an opportunity, Major. At least for a while, I doubt she will attempt anything out of the ordinary as she awaits some sort of result."

"You think we shall have extra cooperation from Ms. Larson while she waits for 'rescue'?"

"I do, Major. In fact, I am certain of it."

"Very well. I can let bygones be bygones this time. But one more misstep and I will be making a demonstration."

"As always, you are most generous."

"And you flatter me."

The call ended. Dok leaned back in his desk chair, grateful that he had not been subject to the Major's disappointment or discipline this day. Progress was being made and he did not want to have to start over with another candidate. He was still sure that she was the right choice, although this kind of behavior did not reflect well on her at all. On him either, for that matter.

He stood and paced about the lab for a minute before deciding to head to his private office. Before departing the lab, he filled a clear specimen cup with water from the utility sink. He wanted to see it again, to make absolutely sure it was still functional.

The office down the hall was his own personal retreat, probably his favorite place in the entire world, if he had any semblance of preference. The small room held his oldest, rarest objects and books, including the old typewriter. He had arranged it to somewhat resemble an office from a private physician's practice he had owned before the war, so there was a little nostalgia here. Not that he had ever told anyone about that.

He set the water on the corner of the cluttered desk. On the highest shelf of the floor-to-ceiling bookcase rested a small metal safe, but Dok with his height had no problem reaching it. He gave the dial the appropriate turns and removed the single object inside.

He sat down at the ancient desk and, using his forearm to clear off a small section, set the fabric-wrapped item down.

"Let's see what you're feeling like today," he said aloud.

Gently unwrapping the fabric package revealed a smooth obsidian stone. It was larger than his fist and had light markings that encircled it. A gift from the Führer, it had been in his custody for forty years at least.

Dok did not know the object's history, only that it had been an item of interest to certain members of the Nazi party, particularly those who specialized in studying the occult.

At one point he had allowed Zorin time with the stone, as she was their staff expert on such things, but she had found it useless and uninteresting.

Then by chance the mysterious object had been dropped quite hard one day and that's when things had gotten interesting.

Now, as he stared at its smooth reflective surface, he felt that it had been fated to come into his care. A man such as himself who made vampiric monsters, discovered ways to cheat death, and worked alongside the likes of magical sharpshooters, witches, and ancient werewolves could hardly have much more of a mark to leave on the world. But Dok knew that for all the days behind him, the future was still infinite with possibility.

Setting the stone down carefully onto the wooden floor, he grabbed the sample cup and stood to his full height. For a moment he hesitated, thinking maybe he should have grabbed the portable camcorder. Or that perhaps he should be doing this out in the lab so as not to make a mess in here.

No, he was too impatient and emotionally invested to stop now.

Holding the water out at arm's length, he slowly tipped the cup.

Dok startled at a sudden loud crunching sound coming from behind him.

Tamara was sitting expectantly on the exam table, holding an apple. Intentional or not, she seemed to be eating as loudly as humanly possible, which set his nerves on edge.

He had noticed the gradual change in her mood, especially after his conversation with the Major over her illicit telephone call. However, since the incident had seemed to improve her mental health and made her easier to work with, he had kept his knowledge of the event to himself.

But this kind of behavior was quite possibly a bridge too far.

Narrowing his eyes, he brought over the array of shots she was to receive today.

"Ohhh!" she groaned loudly, looking down at her lap. "Darn it, didn't work!"

"Is something the matter?" He could not tell if this outburst was real or for dramatic effect. Even after all these years with Lieutenant Van Winkle, trying to read women in this way he still found nigh impossible.

"The apple, it didn't keep you away. I really thought it would so I wouldn't have to do shots today."

"I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about."

"Oh, you know. Ein Apfel pro Tag hält den Doktor fern. Unfortunately, it doesn't rhyme this way. You've heard it before though, right?"

Only a hundred times before this.

He motioned her to prepare for the injections. "I see you've been working on your German, although the pronunciation still needs a bit of work."

"Eh, Heinrich has been helping me."

He wasn't sure that he liked her becoming too friendly with anyone, especially a recruit, but at least their time together was severely limited. And that was an acceptable topic of conversation, he supposed.

"Hmph. That must require a lot of patience from the both of you."

"Yeah... I mean, yes it does."

They continued in silence for a minute.

"May I ask a question?"

There were still two shots left to go, and talking through them seemed to keep her more relaxed.

"Go ahead."

"How did he…? I mean, does Millennium not care that he has a…a...?"

"Don't start stuttering yourself. If you have a question, just ask it straight."

"Okay. Does Millennium not care that he has difficulty speaking? I just thought that something like that wouldn't be acceptable to you."

He frowned imperceptibly.

"I think you're trying to hint at something, and I'm not in the mood to guess at what it is. But in regards to his case, no, his speech impediment is not acceptable in any fashion. However, his presence is tolerated because…"

"Because…?"

"Because I gave it to him."

"Ah! Owww."

Dok had gotten distracted and hadn't been careful enough with that last shot. Well, maybe she would be more careful not to ask meddlesome questions in the future.

"We're done for today."

"Wait, you gave it to him? What do you mean by that? Can't you fix it?" she protested, sitting up and rubbing at the sore spot below her hip bone.

"We are done here." His voice grew dark with finality. "Go straight to your room."

"But he's not here to go with me," she protested, glancing at the lab entrance.

"You know the way by now. Straight there."

Tamara did as she was bidden, meekly shutting the door behind her so as not to let it slam.

Dok released an exasperated sigh, noting the half-eaten apple sitting abandoned near the exam table. It was unusual for him to say more than he intended. Most people didn't try to start a conversation with him, so he had been caught off guard this time.

On her way back to her room, feeling somewhat like a punished child, Tamara decided to take the briefest detour up to the fourth floor. Opening the door just a fraction, she set it back gently into the frame so that it did not latch.

If there was a chance she could talk to Alhambra again tonight, she was going to try.

Back in her room, she tried to remove the rubber band holding her hair back, and became frustrated when it tangled and she had to break it. Angrily combing through the snarled mess, she told herself it served her right for trying to make friendly conversation with that arrogant madman anyway.

Kidnapper. Don't forget he kidnapped you.

She jumped when there was a knock on the door, so absorbed in her angry thoughts and intent on her plans for that night.

Heinrich was outside holding a large book.

"F-from Dok."

"Oh, thank you. Um…tschüss, I guess."

After he left, she sat down on the cot and examined the book. It was a German-English dictionary, old but in very good condition. There was a piece of paper slipped between the pages that read:

In future please keep the topic of conversation appropriate to the work that we are doing.

Also, the phrase you are looking for is "Täglich einen Apfel essen, und den Arzt kannst du vergessen."

-Dok

She was much too excited to sleep, and around half past midnight Tamara crept down the hallway, after turning on the bathroom light and the shower. She hated wasting water, but it would give her an alibi if anyone did come up here while she was gone. She also had her excuse all made up in case anyone caught her somewhere between here and the classroom. If they found her on the phone…well, that just wasn't going to happen.

Leaving the third floor staircase door carefully in an unlatched state, she ascended the steps and found the fourth floor still accessible as planned. Once she was in the classroom with the door shut, she went straight to the phone and hit the redial button.

It rang many times and she was just about to hang up in disappointment when someone finally picked up.

"Olá?"

"Mr. Alhambra? It's me, Tamara Larson! We spoke a few weeks ago."

"Meu Deus, senhorita, what a surprise! Are you safe? Can you talk right now?"

"Yes. I shouldn't stay for long, but I wanted to talk to a friendly face again. I mean, your voice. Obviously we aren't face-to-face."

He chuckled. "You're a brave girl, sneaking around at night like this."

Tamara exhaled a nervous laugh of her own.

"Not at all. I'm scared all the time and I want to get out of here so badly. Is there any update? Were you able to convince the police? Can they trace my calls?"

Alhambra didn't reply right away and instead there were a bunch of rustling noises, plus what sounded like a woman's voice in the background. For a moment, Tamara wondered if she had misjudged him after all.

Eventually he spoke. "Sorry, I had to turn the TV off. Look, Miss Larson, you have to understand that in my country the police are all corruptos. They aren't good people or heroes and they only care for one thing: money. For all we know, they may be under the payroll of these men who kidnapped you."

Tamara's heart sunk at these words. "So there's no hope then?"

"Relaxa! Of course there is hope. Lucky for you, I have a friend in town. She's a…an American journalist. And she agreed to meet with me privately so I could tell her your story. She's going to publish it and keep pushing until it gets some traction. No doubt once the word gets out that a group of Nazis are holding a pair of innocent Americans, your government will come looking for you. It is a matter of national importance."

"You have a friend? Well, that's something. Do you know how long it will take her to publish the article?" Tamara twisted her fingers anxiously around the phone cord.

"Two weeks maybe. Look, I know how hard this is for you, but you have to hold out a while longer."

"I understand. I'm just so grateful and I'm sure that if we were rescued there would be some kind of a reward for your help."

"No reward necessary. I'm always happy to help a nice girl like yourself. Listen, though…"

He cleared his throat before continuing. "I think it best that you not try to call me again. I don't want you to get in trouble. You know, should you get caught. Promise me, senhorita."

"Okay, I promise. Just don't forget about us. I'll try to hang on as you said."

"Smart girl! May our Holy Mother and all the saints protect you."

Tamara reluctantly hung up the phone and made her way quickly back to the safety of her own room, nearly forgetting to shut off the running water in her haste.

Notes:

Pretty sure I saw a meme at one point with "An apple a day keeps Herr Doktor away" so I am far from being original here.

Also, to get the rhyme in German probably translates closer to "Eat an apple a day and you can forget about the doctor."