Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – March 1942
The backroom, usually used for storage and as a kitchen, was now cramped as members of the Czech resistance, the paratroopers flown in from Britain, and the three Assassins stood around the table in the centre of the room. The air was thick with anxiety and distrust. Each group stood by itself, crowding together to each other as if for protection. It was Uncle Hajský, a friendly-looking bespectacled local resistance leader with a flat cap, who finally broke the silence.
"It seems everyone is here. I assume you have met?" he asked, referring to Jozef's group and the Assassins.
"Yes, we have," answered Jan.
"Why are they here?" Jozef demanded, looking straight at Uncle Hajský.
"They are here to help you in your mission."
"They're Germans. We can't trust them. For all we know, they're spies who'll turns us over to the Gestapo as soon as we let our guard down."
Jozef eyed them with intense suspicion and distrust. Jan made no response, simply looking calmly towards Uncle Hajský.
"And besides," Jozef continued, "you didn't even support the mission."
"And we still don't." The answer came from Vaněk, a middle-aged leader of the local resistance with a thick mustache and short, black hair. "As we've said before, killing Heydrich will accomplish nothing. It'll lead to retaliation from the Nazis, making our people suffer further. But if you're going to do it, then by God, I hope you succeed and gain something from it. And these people are here to help you."
"We can't trust them."
"They have been here far longer than you. Months before you even parachuted into Czechoslovakia, they were leading raids and attacks on the Germans in the countryside. I assure you; they are not spies. I'd trust them with my life."
For a moment, Jozef went silent. His eyes went from the resistance leaders to the Assassins and back again. Jan had to say something.
"Not all Germans support the Nazis. We too suffer under them. The first country the Nazis invaded was their own."
"And assuming all that's true, what do you get from killing Heydrich?"
"He has something we need."
"And what would that be?"
Jan stayed silent. Telling too much would compromise the mission.
"See, we can't trust them."
"Action speaks louder than words, Mr. Gabčík," said Uncle Hajský. "While you were safe in Britain, these three were with us fighting on the frontlines risking their lives to help us further our cause. Isn't that proof enough?"
Jozef looked like he had been slapped in the face. With an expression filled with both shame and irritation, he looked from Uncle Hajský to Jan and finally relented.
"Fine. But if you want to help, don't get in our way. We're doing the mission our way."
Jan nodded and soon afterwards the paratroopers left the backroom. Jan, Elisabeth, and Kevin all spread out around the kitchen table. Uncle Hajský had taken off his glasses and was massaging his temple.
"That went better than expected, Uncle," Jan said to him.
"I suppose. I'm glad you're here, however. Those men are brave and doubtless they've been trained well by the British, but with such an important and high-ranking target we need all the help we can get."
"You never told me that the resistance opposed killing Heydrich."
"Yes." It was Vaněk that answered him. "What is the point in killing Heydrich, I ask? Will that make our lives better? The Nazis will just send in a new governor. And what's worse, there will be reprisals, I can assure you. Many people will suffer and die. But for what?"
Uncle Hajský was nodding in agreement. "But they don't answer to us. They have their mission, and this is not the time for Czechoslovak to be fighting against Czechoslovak. If they're going to do it, then they need all the help they can get."
"But there might be trouble if they don't trust us," Jan continued. "I will try and speak to him, see if I can't convince him to trust us."
The two resistance leaders agreed, and the Assassins walked out of the café. Jan walked side-by-side with Elisabeth while Kevin trailed behind them. Vaněk's words were floating around in his mind.
"He might be right, you know," Jan said in hushed tones as he opened the door for Elisabeth and Kevin.
"About what?" she asked.
"If we kill Heydrich, they won't just hunt down the resistance. We know what these Nazis are. Innocent people will die."
"Yes, you're probably right."
Elisabeth kept walking, leaving Jan behind as the doubts occupied his mind. He ran after her, still making sure to not make a scene.
"Innocent men, women, children. They'll die for something they didn't sign up for, Elisabeth."
Elisabeth stopped. Jan was caught off guard and almost jumped back. She turned around. Her striking blue eyes stared right into him. The same blue eyes that had seemed to pierce his soul in Kynsburg Castle. The same, passionate eyes that had rescued him from captivity. They were now full of fire, even more so than before. And then she spoke.
"So what?" Her tone was sharp and forceful, but she kept her voice low. "You want to pull out, is that it? Whether we take part in this or not, those soldiers will try."
She pointed down the street, though they had no idea where the soldiers had gone.
"And have you forgotten the reason why we're here in the first place? We're not here because we want to help the resistance. We are here for a reason, Jan. Remember that. Remember who you are. We're not just some resistance fighters. There's a bigger picture than that. We are Assassins. Killing is our modus operandi. It always has, and always will be. We don't spill the blood of the innocent. But Heydrich is far from innocent. And that bastard has something we need. That's why we're here, Jan. If you can't live with that, then why are you even here? Why did you swear upon the Creed?"
Jan looked down. He couldn't look into those eyes.
"I know," was all that he could muster. Elisabeth turned around and continued walking, leaving him behind.
There was no choice. He knew that. Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. So goes the first tenet of the Creed. Heydrich was no innocent. He deserved to die.
But he couldn't help but wonder whether the blood of the people who were going to suffer the consequences would be on his hands too.
Click. The sound of the camera was barely audible to anyone but Jozef. He lowered it and took another look at the street in front of him. There was no way for him to know whether the photograph would be good until he developed it. Just in case, he brought the camera up to his eyes again and prepared to take another photograph.
"Planning?"
The voice came from his right. He lowered his camera, and his hand instinctively went to the gun hidden beneath his coat. Jan was looking straight at the road, not reacting to Jozef's response. Jozef relaxed and went back to staring at the street, keeping his camera close to his chest.
"What do you want, Kraut?"
He put a cigarette to his mouth and lit it.
"To find some common ground."
"Ha! And how do you suppose we do that?"
"Don't have any fond memories of Germans, do you?"
"Well, they invaded and occupied my country and all. Not a lot of fond memories there."
"And that's why you fight."
Silence followed for what seemed like an eternity. Jozef kept his eyes on the street and continued smoking his cigarette.
"You know," Jan began. "If we were traitors, you'd be captured or dead already. Especially knowing that you plan to kill him."
"My comrades, they're fighting for their homeland. I know them. I trained with them. The resistance, they're fighting for their homeland too. I don't know them, but my government in London trusts them."
He took the cigarette from his mouth and puffed smoke into the air before putting it back in.
"But you. I don't know you. I don't know why you're here. And you're not telling me."
He turned towards Jan and looked him straight in the eyes.
"How am I supposed to trust you? Hm? We're here risking our lives for a mission that might just be a one-way trip. Every bit of secrecy counts. You, you're an unknown variable. And we don't need unknown variables."
He turned back towards the street and continued smoking.
"Why do you insist on doing this?" Jan asked.
"What do you mean?" Jozef's tone was annoyed.
"You heard it back there. Killing Heydrich would invite retaliation. People will die. Innocent people."
"We're soldiers. We have our orders. It's as simple as that."
"Even knowing more people will die?"
"When the Nazis took over my country, I ran. I didn't want to stand idly by while my country was conquered. The world didn't care. They let Hitler take Czechoslovakia. I ran to Poland and joined the army there. Then Poland fell. Then I went to France and fought there. Then France fell. I'm tired of running. It's time we struck back, did something for our country."
Another bout of silence followed, before Jan finally spoke.
"3 years ago, I lost my father. It was during something called Kristallnacht. Ever heard of it?"
Jozef shook his head.
"All of a sudden, soldiers and brutes in the service of the Nazis rose up throughout Berlin. They targeted the Jewish people. Destroyed their homes, their business, their synagogues. And they killed many of them too. My father, he wouldn't stand for it. Many did nothing and just watched as the slaughter happened. But not my father. He went out and fought against them. Tried to save as many Jews as possible.
He told me to stay put. But I didn't listen. I went out, followed him. Tried to be of help. But we were ambushed by some soldiers. Even then, I could fight. But it wasn't enough. They almost killed me. But my father… he saved me. At the cost of his own life. I couldn't do anything to save him. I couldn't reach him in time. Filled with despair and anger, I turned my attention towards the soldiers. I killed as many as I could before they retreated. And then I carried my father's lifeless body back home. I couldn't even tell my mother what had happened. I was too ashamed of it.
That day I swore. I swore vengeance on the people who killed my father."
While he was speaking, Jozef said nothing. And then Jan turned to Jozef and met his eyes.
"This is why we fight. This is why we're here. Heydrich has something we need that might be pivotal to ending this war. And every single one of those bastards that die, especially those at the top, count. We're helping you to help ourselves, to bring them down. I can't tell you what exactly we need from him, but we are working against the Nazis. We can only benefit from working together. So, what do you say we put aside any hostility and work together on this? You may know nothing about me, but you can be sure that I will help you kill Heydrich. At the very least, I assure you my hatred for them is genuine and it runs as deep as yours does."
Jozef looked at his eyes and for a moment pondered to himself. He didn't say anything, but he didn't break eye contact either. Then he turned his attention back to the street.
"I still don't trust you, not fully. But you're right. If you were out to get us, we'd be dead already. So, at least for this mission, I'll accept your help."
He held out his hand to Jan without turning.
"So, what's the plan?" Jan asked as he shook Jozef's hand firmly.
Kraut – An offensive term meaning a German person. Obviously, it's English. I don't know what that would be in either Czech or Slovak.
Hello, all! Sorry I haven't been updating this story in quite a while now. Life gets busy, but I didn't want to leave this story unfinished, so I finally got back to it. It might not be the best, but I do put my everything into it. I hope with all of its flaws you can still find enjoyment in it.