PLEASE NOTE: I do not give permission for any reproduction, re-imagination, or re-adaptation of this story in any way, shape, or form.
*FULLY REVISED AS OF 05/17/2023*
-
April 9th, 1943; Friday (Paris Outskirts)
"I'm going into town to get some things. Do you have any special requests?" Hans brushed past Krista's seated place at his kitchen table, his fingertips trailing over her shoulders.
She shook her head and stood up, the coffee cup she had been drinking from still in her hand. "I'm alright." Hans took a handful of steps toward her, effectively closing the open space between them. He brushed his thumb across her cheek before dropping his hand to her shoulder and leaning into her. He dropped a soft kiss to the corner of her lips before pulling back.
"I won't be long." His fingers slipped through her hair, coming to rest at her shoulder again.
"I'll be here," she assured, watching as he made his way to the door and palmed the handle to let himself out.
Krista crossed the room to one of the windows near the front door once she assumed him to be clear of it. She pulled the curtains back a few inches and peered out, waiting for him to pull away off of the property.
Krista was now presented with a rare opportunity. She had Landa's house to herself for the time being. She had the chance now to do her own investigative research.
Hans knew who Jonas was, or at least knew of him. He was a superior officer to Jonas by several ranks, and if she was lucky, maybe he was Jonas's commanding officer. It was a long shot, but there was always a chance.
She was well aware of the underlying suspicion Hans felt toward her, but she held onto hope that at least he could look past that long enough to tell her where the hell she could find this kid.
There were many parts of Hans's house that she'd never been in, and she was anxious to explore at her leisure. She was hopeful that one of the closed doors would reveal a makeshift home office.
The main bedroom was located in the rear of the house with a short and relatively narrow hallway leading to it. Along that hallway were three other wooden doors that opened up to who knows what.
The first on the left: a spare bedroom that was utilitarian in nature and void of any form of decor or color. If Hans was a lavish Nazi lifestyle like history suggested, he wasn't living it here.
The second room on the left: precisely what she was hoping she would come across. She left the office door cracked, and moved on to the only door on the right side of the hallway.
It was only a second bathroom that looked like it hadn't been used in years. It was immaculate but only contained the bare minimum with a simplistic bathtub and shower combination with no curtain.
A small paint splattered window let in diffracted rays of sunlight and illuminated the particles of dust that hung freely in the air. Krista cleaned a viewing area in the dust on the windows with her hand and gazed outside.
The trees that lie beyond the walls were growing their buds and preparing for the season ahead. Morning sun burned through the fine mist that writhed around the trunks and warmed the dew coated ground. Her fingertips brushed down the painted frame as she stepped back away from the window and headed back into the hallway. She closed the bathroom door tightly behind her, and went back for the cracked open office door.
A large topography map of Germany hung on the wall across from the door and above the desk. She found herself staring at it, the frustrating years she spent learning the country's language flooding back to her.
All of those sleepless nights cramming before AP exams felt like they were merely the events of yesterday; she remembered it all so clearly. Even extensive planning for their German 4 class trip to Berlin that fell through in the end.
She quickly scanned the room and noticed it was relatively bare, just as every other room but Hans's bedroom. Unlike his office in the Gestapo Headquarters, there were no large filing cabinets in sight.
She plopped down in the leather chair that was tucked away under the desk in the center of the small office and crossed her arms across her chest as if she were a pouting child. Krista leaned back and closed her eyes. She was feeling defeated already. Why couldn't the answers she was searching for just present themselves on a platter? That would be so much easier and safer than nosing around in an SS colonel's personal office.
When she leaned back forward, she noticed that the bottom left drawer was awfully large. If there was any sort of paperwork in this office, it had to be in that drawer. She gave it a tug, and it refused to budge. "Goddammit," she mumbled.
The drawer perplexed her, as it had no lock. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the desk, and tugged gently on the slim drawer that spanned the width of the opening for the chair. She pulled it slowly until it was nearly half open, and she heard the click of a locking mechanism somewhere internally. She tried the bottom drawer again.
Success.
Krista pulled it open all the way, and began to look over the file folders that were neatly stood up and organized inside. They were arranged alphabetically by last name, but were nothing more than copies personnel files. She thumbed through them keeping her eyes peeled for 'Fischer' to be written on one of the tabs.
'Fischer, Jonas'.
Jackpot.
If a copy of Jonas's personnel file was in Hans's house, her theory of Hans being his commanding officer seemed plausible. She was getting somewhere.
She quickly pulled it out of the drawer and laid it open on the desk top. She skimmed through each page, searching for something that was typed rather than handwritten. Handwritten German was ungodly difficult for her to read, as a non-native speaker. When she finally came across something she could read, it was no more than his basic information. Name, height, weight, birthdate, rank held when transferred, etcetera. It wasn't much more than proof that Jonas Fischer was a real human being.
She flipped and flipped through the pages, but she couldn't read anything. The second to last page piqued her curiosity, and she stopped advancing the pages. H. Landa signed professionally and neatly at the bottom, and a date in the top corner that read '17 November, 1942'. To the best of her translation abilities, she thought it to be a transfer request. "What are the chances...?" Krista mumbled under her breath. She had a connection to her cousin. She was left with the task of keeping and strengthening that connection.
With a grin of satisfaction, so closed the file, taking care in making it look untouched. She slipped it back into its place between 'Fauser, Elias', and 'Florian, Roderick'.
She began closing the drawer when her eyes fell upon the section of names that began with the letter 'H'. She pulled it open again, marking her place with her hand. She paused for a moment when her fingers finally brushed over his name. Hellstrom, Dieter. Curiosity was taking over. She began to remove the file from the drawer when she could hear a knock at the front door. "Fuck," she said, shoving the file back into its respectful place and hastily closed both of the open drawers.
She replaced the leather chair to its original position, and performed a brief onceover to make sure it didn't look like a soul had been inside the office.
She quietly closed the door behind her, and padded down the hallway to the main bedroom to be neither seen nor heard. She was unarmed, her .380 stashed away in an empty chocolate tin buried in her leather duffel back in her room.
There was no way in hell she was going back to the front of the house to answer the door. It could be any number of Hans's colleagues, and her desire to meet them while she was alone was nonexistent.
It wasn't really her place to be answering the door anyway.
From Hans's bedroom, her view of the front of the property was heavily obscured by those budding trees. Krista closed the door tightly without making a sound, and pressed her back into it. She trained her hearing on the front of the house, listening intently for the repetitive knocking to crease.
After another sustained ten seconds of rapping, the front of the house quieted. Shortly after, the rattling of a 200 Lang starting and idling. She could hear the metallic ticking from where she stood. Whoever was in charge of maintenance for the car needed to be replaced, because it sounded as if the car was being driven with a critically low oil level. But that wasn't her problem.
Disaster averted for now.
The crunching of rocks beneath the car's worn tires gradually grew more quiet as the engine sounds faded into the distance in tandem.
She waited a few minutes before venturing back into the house after opening the bedroom door cautiously. She glanced around the house while she walked down the hall, keeping her eyes open for irregularities outside of the windows.
The car was gone, and she was alone again.
Krista flopped down on the couch, her ankles crossing atop the coffee table. 'Don't put your feet on the GODDAMN furniture!' She could almost hear her aunt Kim yelling at her.
She stared up at the white plaster ceiling, and sighed deeply. She dropped her hands onto her stomach. She might have time to sneak another peek at Jonas's file before Hans comes back, but she didn't want to take the chance.
Her eyes fluttered closed and her mind's eye fell to rest.
She could feel his hands on her, slow but confident. He tugged her shirt over her head and pressed his bare chest into hers as their lips met. They slowly began to meld together, their tongues teasing each other's. She allowed herself to become hopelessly lost in him as one of her hands found its way into his hair. He pulled back for a second and held her striking emerald eyes in a deep gaze. Again, she found herself swimming in an endless sea of frosty blue, and she would be okay if she were to drown there. "He doesn't deserve you," Dieter breathed in flawless German, one hand moving to cup one of her flushed cheeks. He stroked her soft skin with his thumb and allowed it to graze gently over her bottom lip. "I could treat you so much better," he added. She tried to form a reply, but it was cut off by another deep kiss. His lips slowly traveled an invisible path across her jaw and down the side of her neck, stopping at her shoulder where he bit down with the perfect amount of pressure; Just enough to make her moan softly, not but enough to draw blood. Oh how she liked his ways. Maybe he really could treat her better. He pulled her close again, their bodies pressed together. They seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces, a type of perfection she'd never felt before. "Krista..." he breathed in her ear while her lips traveled up his throat, finally landing at his lips. Their kisses were intoxicating, and she couldn't get enough. "Krista..." he repeated again, kneading into her back with the tips of his fingers.
"Krista? Krista?" Hans's voice floated into her ears, pulling her from her shallow slumber. She didn't even hear him come back inside.
"Oh god, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to fall asleep." She straightened, running a hand through her tangled hair.
He softly laughed, reaching out to tuck a bit of her long hair behind her ear. "It's quite alright." He took a seat beside her, and brought her legs across his lap. The nuanced brushes of his fingers over the smooth skin of her legs made her hum softly in contentment. "I picked something up for you while I was out," he said, flattening his hand against her thigh.
"I told you not to do that," she told him, her eyes lingering on his hand resting on her leg.
"I know that, but I wanted to." He handed a flat, tattered brown box to her and awaited her reaction.
"What is this?" She held it between her hands, her eyes meeting his.
"We'll call it a token of my gratitude," he answered with a smile.
Hesitantly, she removed the taped up top of the box and her eyes fell on likely the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen. Her lips parted in shock. Daylight filtered through the window near the front door and made the plethora of diamonds sparkle like the stars in the night sky.
It had to be at least twenty carats worth of diamonds and she felt that she was too clumsy to even be looking at it. "Oh wow..." she finally said after her bout of speechlessness had passed. She couldn't be trusted with something this nice. She could only imagine the price tag on something like this, but then again... she was almost scared to find out.
"What do you think?" he asked, a tone of hope in his voice.
"It's beautiful... But I can't take this. It's way too much." She repeatedly tilted the box from side to side, noting the way the light caught the facets of each gem. It was flawless, and she couldn't peel her eyes from it, but she wouldn't feel right accepting a gift of that caliber.
"I don't think so. I think it will look beautiful on you. May I?" Hans lifted his hand from her thigh, placing it palm up before her. Krista placed the box in his open hand, and shifted her body to place her back to him. With care, he removed the necklace from the box it was safely nestled in. Krista gathered all of her hair to one side, allowing him to place the cool metal around her neck. After fastening it, his lips fell softly to the nape of her neck and stayed there for a moment.
She reached up to her collarbone and allowed her fingertips to graze over the mass of gemstones that now encircled her neck. It had some heft to it, and admittedly, it wasn't the most comfortable thing she'd ever worn.
He brought her into his chest, his arms encircling her loosely. "It will be the perfect accessory for dinner tonight."
Wait. Dinner? She didn't recall that conversation. "Oh, I didn't know we had plans," she said, poorly masking her surprise.
"Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner has extended a dinner invitation to me, but I hoped you would accompany me."
That sounded like a terrible idea. The man was terrifying in photographs with his distinct facial scars and menacing demeanor, and she didn't think that meeting him was something she had an inclination to do.
She nodded curtly, closing her eyes when his arms tightened around her and he peppered a series of kisses along the side of her neck. "Sounds good."
She just had to fake it until she made it.
The restaurant was full of high ranking SS officers with cigarettes in dangling from their lips and menus grasped in their hands. She didn't see herself as someone that had the class to be seated and served in a place like this, but she could act like she belonged.
As they all ate their meals, polite small talk floated between the two men but Krista remained mostly silent. Her mind was elsewhere, to say the least. The glances of suspicion from Kaltenbrunner that Krista caught in her peripherals put her on edge. 'Oh god... he's onto me...' He was subtly hinting with his sidelong glares and lip snarls that he was equally pleased with sharing a table with her as she was with him.
She sat back with her glass of wine and took a slow sip. Her thoughts drifted for a moment to her dream earlier in the day while she slept lightly on Hans's couch. Two weeks had elapsed since she and Dieter had spent the evening together at Le Cristal, and she simply couldn't shake the feeling that she-or they- would eventually pay for the kiss they shared. Karma was a bitch, and she strikes hard and fast.
She was wrenched back to reality when she felt Landa's hand grip her thigh firmly. "Is everything okay, my dear?"
Krista nodded and stood up from the chair she was seated in. "I'm alright. I'm just not feeling well. I think I'm going to head home."
"Let me take you," he said, dropping his crisp white napkin in the table and preparing to stand as well.
She waved him off. "No no, you stay. I'll be alright." She dug out the last bit of money that she had purchased on eBay from her small clutch and placed it at her spot at the table for her portion of the meal. "Thank you for inviting me, Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner. It was a pleasure."
"Of course," he answered as he raised his wine glass to his lips and watched her with observant eyes.
Krista turned to take her leave when Hans grabbed her wrist and tugged her to his level for a publicly acceptable kiss. She lingered there for a moment longer than she probably should have, savoring the subtle taste of wine that hung on his lips. "I'll see you soon," he told her before releasing his loose grasp on her. She blushed deeply, knowing full and well that Kaltenbrunner's eyes were like flamethrowers on them.
She nodded sweetly then made her unnoticeable exit.
She had no idea where she was, and all of the streets looked similar with slight variations.
She turned left and clicked her way down the cobblestone street. She stepped into the inlet of a nearby alley, and pulled her phone from slice she made in the lining in her clutch. She looked around to make sure that no one was watching her before she turned her attention to the backlit screen in her hand. With her remaining three percent of battery, she shot a quick text to her sister. 'Are you by chance at my house?'
She quickly replied. 'Duh.'
'I'm on my way.' She answered just before her phone powered down on its own.
Exiting the alley, she tucked her phone back away, and sighed when she felt a stray raindrop land on her skin. Now was not the time for rain. To salt the wound, she still had no idea where she was. Of all the times Dieter could materialize out of thin air, why it couldn't be now?
After wandering around for a half hour, she wished she had paid better attention to her directions of travel. Off in her peripherals, she saw a man walking the opposite direction, puffing on a lit cigarette. "Excuse me, sir?" she called out in German when she saw the Totenkopf gleaming on his visor cap.
The man stopped. "Yes?" He seemed surprised to see a woman done up in evening wear all alone in the Parisian streets. Sure, it looked odd.
"I don't mean to bother you, but I'm lost... could you tell me the way to the train station?"
Trains weren't running at this hour, but he pointed down the road in the direction she needed to travel anyway.
When she finally caught them man's face, she fell into a stunned state, and her mouth fell open. She recognized that face. "Thank you," she eventually said, finally closing her mouth and letting her lips curl upward into a polite smile.
Slowly, she began to walk slowly toward her destination, still in shock. She almost couldn't believe that it was actually Jonas. She'd been searching tirelessly, and he'd somehow dropped into her lap conveniently?
As she neared the station, she looked in all directions to be sure she was alone. She stopped and looked over her shoulder for any sign that maybe he had followed behind her. Turning back to face the brick platform, she decided that she absolutely had to cross paths with Jonas again come hell or high water.