PLEASE NOTE: I do not give permission for any reproduction, re-imagination, or re-adaptation of this story in any way, shape, or form.
July 11th, 1943; Sunday (2 PM; Across Avenue de la Grand Armée – Paris, France)
A panther lithely prowling its way through the dense forest undergrowth was no different from the passively seductive sway of Krista's graceful form as she moved from place to place. That same panther was silent in her pursuit, and completely unaware of the watchful eyes laid on her.
Dieter watched dreamily as she sat herself at an outside table at Le Cristal and fought her fingers though her hair. His envy for Hans was immeasurable, as he longed to be the one who held her close to him when darkness fell, and to be the one whose fingers slipped through her silken hair as she drifted off to peaceful sleep atop his chest.
He sighed, and lifted his newspaper back to his eyes. The all-consuming daydreams would have to suffice because she'd never be his.
A plastic wrapped soft pack of cigarettes skidded across the cast iron table, and Dieter closed his paper once more. "They only had menthol," Jonas said as he brought one of the cigarettes from the pack to his lips. "And they were twice the price," he continued, plopping down in the iron chair opposite Dieter.
"Figures," Dieter muttered, plucking one of the cigarettes from the opened pack. He looked across the avenue at Krista while he waited for access to Jonas's lighter. Her smile could light up a room. "You should have gone to a different cart."
"Honestly D, I didn't feel like it." Jonas followed Dieter's line of sight at the café across the way. "How does she not know that you're tailing her yet?" Jonas sat back, crossing an ankle over his knee and taking a draw followed by a quick ghost inhale.
"It's only been two days. She'll figure it out eventually." The waiter left her table, and her gaze fell over to her right, narrowly missing the table where Dieter and Jonas were staked out. Dieter was quick to turn his head, shielding his face from her with his cigarette still burning and held between his teeth. He could feel her panther like green eyes on him even from afar.
Jonas leaned over the table and snatched the newspaper from Dieter's grasp. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you're trying to be seen." He flipped the pages, the newsprint crinkling beneath his fingers.
He stayed quiet, but raised his eyebrows in an expression to Jonas that said 'don't you dare go there'.
"Don't try anything stupid," Jonas said with an amused head shake.
"I won't," Dieter replied snarkily, taking two draws from his cigarette in rapid succession before exhaling. He wasn't going to be stupid enough to actually try anything… but god did he want to.
July 13th, 1943; Tuesday (Reich Chancellery- Berlin, Germany)
Hans checked his watch again. This quarterly debriefing was intended to last an hour, but it was a half hour past. What gives? Himmler droned on and on, and Hans drummed his fingers on his leg impatiently.
"Is there anything you'd like to add, Landa?" Himmler questioned, clasping his hands together behind his back, taking note of Hans's noticeable edginess.
"No, sir. You've already said everything that I would have," he lied with a convincing smile. He hadn't really been paying attention although he most definitely should have been.
Himmler offered Hans a quick head nod, and turned to address the whole of the group seated around the long rectangular table. "Excellent. If there is nothing else, you are all dismissed." The highest ranking officers of Germany's military stood up from around the conference table, the heels of their boots squeaking against the polished marble below their feet. "Hans, a word please?" Himmler requested politely as he watched the other men file out of the room and into the hallway outside.
"Of course, sir." Hans stood from his chair and smoothed his hands down his uniform. Himmler closed the door once he and Hans were the only officers that remained.
"There's been talk among the ranks of your new love interest," he began moving to stand before Hans. "I've heard that she is in Europe illegally. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Himmler narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Hans.
He shook his head. "No, sir. To my knowledge, she is of Germanic descent."
Himmler managed a half assed 'mhmm' because he knew there just had to be more to the story. He walked back to the head of the table where he had been sitting and gathered the file folders that littered the tabletop. He began to stuff them away into a dark maroon briefcase as he spoke. "Do you intend to marry this woman?"
Oh god… marriage? Not once had that concept crossed his mind. But now that Himmler said something… he could vaguely envision her as his betrothed... but that was a fantasy he'd address at a later time. Himmler moved again to stand before Hans, his briefcase grasped in his hands by the handle. "I haven't given that much-if any-thought, to be perfectly honest."
Himmler caught Hans's eyes and held them with an unbreakable intensity. "I will advise against it. I will not have your reputation tarnished, and reflect on us as a whole. In addition, I would think twice about making romantic advances with a woman of her profession. She'll only distract you from your duties."
It wouldn't do for Hans to reveal the extent of his frustration. The High Command was nothing but broken records, and he had grown tired of hearing the same thing over and over from those above him. They weren't acquainted with the girl on the level that Hans was. "She has, and will not, do anything of the sort."
"How can you be so sure?" Himmler challenged, shifting his weight on his feet.
"Are you questioning my judgment?" Questioned Hans testily.
"Yes, Standartenführer, I am. I am struggling to understand how you are able to place any sort of trust in a woman that takes her clothes off and dances for a living."
Anger was brewing inside Hans, but he had to shove it back down. "I watched her for days before I engaged with her. Even then, I still watched everything she did, and took note of everything she said. Not once was there a single indicator that this woman meant any harm."
"So what told you that it was wise to pursue?" He pushed.
"Let's just say that curiosity got the best of me," Hans defended.
That wasn't the answer Himmler was looking for, but he glanced down at his watch. He had other engagements to be present at. "Regardless, I recommend that you don't get overly attached to whatever it is that you've started. I'm afraid that I can't support this relationship."
Hans stiffened, straightening his posture. It's not like he was asking for Himmler's blessing. "Understood, Reichsführer," he said disdainfully.
"Very well." Himmler popped open his briefcase, and withdrew a leather bound book with a golden Parteiadler emblazoned on the front. The eagle clutched a wreath in its talons, a Swastika positioned directly in the center. He forfeited it to Hans and snapped his briefcase back closed. "The notebook you requested."
Hans took the notebook, and flipped the cover open to see the simplistic signature of Adolf Hitler in black ink. Hans nodded and thanked Himmler.
"Furthermore, a gentle reminder that Mercedes Benz is still awaiting your final payment on your 770. If you could, please take care of it before you board your train back to Paris. That will be all for now. Good day, Standartenführer Landa." Himmler snapped his heels together forcefully, raising his right arm in a salute. "Heil Hitler," he said sharply.
Hans mirrored him, also saluting. "Heil Hitler."
Himmler clicked his way out of the marble floored conference room, and Hans was left by himself to cool down for a minute.
As he gathered his own things, he closed his eyes for a moment to let his mind's eye present him with an image of the woman that his colleagues were so against him fraternizing with. He was in love with her. How was he supposed to break the news to her that she was right, and he very well could lose everything because of her? He opened his eyes and she was gone, but she left him with the sweet melody of her voice lending itself to his name.
He told her that he was willing to risk everything for her, which were words of truth, but not heeding Himmler's warning could land him in boiling water. He could very well lose his cushy post in Paris, and be separated from her by hundreds of miles until the final cease fire of the war was ordered.
He loved her and she was beyond worth the hassle, but fuck… she was killing him.
July 15th, 1943; Thursday (5:18 PM; Paris, France)
A warm summer wind blew through Dieter's dark hair as he shielding his lighter and cigarette from it. "What do you say we go to The Smoking Room Saturday night? Have a couple of drinks?"
Jonas nodded, taking the lighter from Dieter when he passed it. "Sounds good," he nodded, looking up and across Avenue Foch at nothing in particular. "I could go for another one of those Manhattans."
A brief glint of blonde hair that Dieter would recognize from anywhere caught his eye. "Stay here. I have an idea." Dieter hurried to take two more drags from his cigarette before crushing it out on the ground.
"Where are you going?" Jonas called out after Dieter as he began to jog away.
"Just stay here," he repeated, turning his attention to wherever it was that Krista was headed. She turned into a convenience store that sold a little bit of everything that you'd need, and mostly things you didn't.
Jonas looked down at the ground at Dieter's discarded menthol and shook his head. "What a waste," he mumbled to himself.
Dieter hurried behind Krista, and snuck into the same shop behind another SS officer, slinking to the back unnoticed.
She looked to be just browsing, not looking for anything in particular, until her eyes landed on a small stuffed rabbit up on a shelf. Dieter couldn't help but smile to himself. He snuck up behind her stealthily, reaching up for the stuffed animal. She turned around, stunned by their sudden proximity. "Dieter, hi!" She said to him, offering him a smile as he handed the rabbit to her.
"What do you want this for? It's for a child," he teased.
She shrugged, looking down at the button eyes and the x-shaped stitching on the nose. She flopped the long ears about and turned to him. "I don't know. I think it's kind of cute."
She set him up. He couldn't resist. "I think you're kind of cute."
Krista laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "Stop it! You'll make me blush."
"It's cute," he reinforced, rubbing his ribs where her elbow had just landed. "Hey, I have someone outside for you when you're finished here."
Krista scanned a shelf full of snacks, and picked up a pack of buttered crackers, and a glass bottle of what she assumed was a cola. "Oh, please tell me it's not Kaltenbrunner."
With a breathy laugh, Dieter shook his head. "No." She moved down the aisle, and scooped up a paper bag filled with lemon drops. "It's someone you've been looking for."
He couldn't help but smile when he saw the excited sparkle in her eyes. "Jonas?"
A gentle nod. "He's been wanting me to set you two up for drinks, but I think I have a better idea." He followed her to the counter, and leaned against it. "We're going to this… party Saturday night, and I was hoping you would join us."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Dieter nodded hopefully. "I won't let anything happen to you, don't worry." Because if he did, Landa would probably strangle him… In half…
"I mean, why not? I guess it wouldn't hurt."
"Perfect," he said, following behind Krista as they exited the store. He pointed to his right, and they headed that way.
"What do I need to wear?" She asked, not hesitating to open the bag filled with lemon hard candies and pop one in her mouth.
Dieter let his eyes sweep down her body, trying his best to not them linger on the pleated skirt that fell just above her knees. "Just what you're wearing now. It's not a formal event."
"Okay," she said with a nod. "That sounds like my kind of party."
Dieter gladly accepted the lemon drop she offered to him before adjusting the cover on his head. "I think you'll enjoy yourself." They approached Jonas, who was leaning against a tree and fidgeting with a lighter. "Now, I suppose a proper introduction is in order. Krista, Jonas… Jonas, Krista." Dieter gestured between them and fell back, giving them both some space.
"Hi," she began with a bright smile on her face. "I've been looking for you forever."
"I've heard," Jonas said. "I didn't know that I had family from The States."
"Well, I didn't know that I had family in Europe," she said, reaching into her bag as they started walking to offer Jonas a lemon drop so he could fit in with the cool kids.
"D talks about you all the time," Jonas said, sucking the candy into his mouth.
They both flanked Krista, but Dieter had strategically placed himself at a proximity to her that would almost guarantee a fleeting brush of their hands. "Come on!" Dieter exclaimed with an annoyed chuckle, reaching behind Krista and pushing Jonas's arm just enough that he stumbled for a second.
Jonas threw his hands up. "Look, I'm just telling you the truth, Krista." Jonas leaned over, covering half of his mouth with his right hand like he was telling her a secret. "I think he likes you." It came out as a forceful whisper of sorts with a mischievous grin at his lips.
"Will you stop?" Dieter pushed him again, still light spirited. Jonas was right though; he did like her.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Jonas finally found an end to his joking laughter and turned to Krista. "He said that you're from Chicago. How'd you even get here?"
She laughed nervously as they came to an intersection and stopped, waiting for traffic to pass. "I convinced my sister to help sneak me into a cargo hold on a supply ship. It was a long trip, but I have to say, I'm glad I made it. It was definitely worth it."
Was that true? That must have been abysmal… Dieter couldn't believe he had never had the thought to ask her exactly how she had made her way to France.
Dieter made a purposeful sway of his left arm, his fingertips brushing over her hand tauntingly. Maybe he wouldn't get the girl in the end, but he could still try.
"Where are you headed, milady?" Jonas asked, pulling a cigarette out of the plastic wrapped pack and passing the pack to Dieter behind Krista. Dieter took the pack from him and took two cigarettes out, leaving two remaining in the pack.
"The Saint James," she replied, graciously accepting the cigarette from Dieter and awaiting the lighter to be passed down the rotation next.
"Oh, that's fancy," Jonas teased, bringing the flame of the lighter to his cigarette. "Landa spared no expense. By the way, what's the deal with that anyway?"
Krista lit hers and passed the lighter down the line. "I don't know," she said with a laugh. "We just kind of clicked. And don't ask me why, because I don't even know."
"He's always been well versed in the act of alluring girls with just a look in his eyes," Jonas said, trying his best to sound mysterious. "It's quite impressive, actually."
Dieter recalled that look; He'd seen it many times over the last two years. It was the look he gave Krista across the table in the café not long ago. "It's only impressive because of his rank," Dieter interjected as the group came to a stop at the iron gate at the front of the hotel.
Krista broke free from between the two officers, walking ahead slightly after they both stopped. She turned to Dieter and pointed in a joking manner. "Well you told me that he wasn't looking for love, and I think you're wrong."
"Aw, see? He's already got her. You don't stand a chance, my friend." Jonas took the last puff from his cigarette and inhaled deeply.
Dieter shot Jonas an irate glare then rolled his eyes. Krista was clearly finding their banter amusing as her laughter surrounded them. The sweet sound melted on his tongue like liquid sugar that he had an insatiable taste for. "Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I can't fantasize that I do." He caught Krista's gaze, falling into a sea of most pure, polished emerald. He'd love to stare into those eyes for hours uninterrupted if given half the chance.
"Come on, lover boy. We're late to report back again. We were only supposed to take a smoke break."
"I know, I know. We're going," Dieter told Jonas, taking a step closer to Krista. "We'll come by around eleven tomorrow night. Could you be ready by then?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that just a little past curfew?"
"Krista, please. We've been sneaking around these streets past curfew for the last two years. Not to mention, you will be with us. I will personally guarantee no one will question you."
"But–" she tried to protest.
"Not even because you're with someone that isn't Landa. Trust me on that." He was like the cool babysitter that let you have Dr. Pepper and Swiss Rolls after ten o'clock, because he knew he had everything under control. He wouldn't dare let anything happen to her when he had been trusted to keep her out of harm's way. "We'll see you tomorrow." He eliminated the little space that remained between them, and pressed the gentlest of kisses to her cheek. "Be good," he said before shooting her a wink and a satisfied grin. He hurried to catch back up with Jonas who was now a quarter of the way back to headquarters.
Dieter hadn't expected Krista to agree so easily to agree to a night in which she knew no details of. He thought that maybe a break in her daily routine would do her some good. Either way, he stepped back into the Gestapo Headquarters with a sense of accomplishment. He'd finally given Jonas his meeting of brevity with his cousin. But bottom line, the impossible had happened; Krista had agreed to a night out with him.
Author's Note: I made a mindful decision to break this chapter into two separate ones (Envy/Jealousy) because I wound up with WAY too many ideas to cram into one chapter. Otherwise, this would have been pushing nine thousand words.
The more I'm really getting into the nitty gritty of my storyline, the more apparent it's becoming to me that this story is going to be very long… Probably borderline novel length. But on the bright side, there will be plenty of material to read once it's complete!
Endless thanks for reading and continuing to read!