World War Stories XIII
Even decades after the First Great War, Greenland remained a frigid wasteland, its barren landscape plagued by perpetual blizzards and hailstorms that would doom any unprepared ship into the frozen abyss below. A work of the Sirens, many believed, that outlasted their presence in the world.
Nobody had ever lived there since; settlements now stood abandoned, ruins nobody dared come near. Only the Royal Navy still occasionally patrolled its waters, and he had no doubt only the best, ablest seamen and hardest ships were sent. Even then, from what he heard, they were never ones to linger long.
Perhaps, he thought, that's why they were never able to sniff out the Ironblood remnants lying in wait within, just inches away from their nose.
Wilhelm Reiner wasn't surprised and was even a little amazed if he had to admit it.
The sound of boots banging against the steel floor of the docks was a familiar one. The sight of previously rival factions of the Wehrmacht banding together was not, and by the looks of it, they weren't doing so begrudgingly either.
And that included the group that rescued him from the British. Their commanding officer, who was silent throughout save for the courtesy of introducing himself, was an SS officer, Hauptmann Theodor. The rest was made up of members of the Heer, Luftwaffe, and Kriegsmarine. There were even defectors from the Regia Marina's Decima MAS and the Red Sea Flotilla.
And they were there, too. The KANSENs.
He already knew Deutschland well, but the other one, Roon, unnerved him. Then again, everyone else, all hardy, battle-tested men, seemed nervous around her, and he wouldn't hold it against them. The smile she almost always wore was a friendly one, but he couldn't really shake the feeling that there was something off about how she carried herself. It was like there was something she was hiding—an urge, a hunger. When she was walking behind him, he felt like he was being tailed by a predator.
But there were far more worrying things—the inevitable reunion with his sister being one. The sister who now leads them all against the Allies, against insurmountable odds. Or so everyone said and believed.
But he knew her better than anyone. She only agreed to that because she had her own plans, her own ideas on the matter, and her own way of seeing it through.
Only Deutschland was left with him when they had left the docks, the others having dispersed to tend to their own business. He figured they would be glad to be rid of Roon, too. Said KANSEN excused herself, rather cheerfully, to what she claimed was "practice."
Deutschland didn't strike up a conversation as they went on their way, and he didn't feel like it either. Seeing that oddly neutral expression on her instead of her usual smirking and sneering was jarring.
Soon, the brutally cold feel of the typical Ironblood base was replaced by something warmer as they passed the door leading to his sister's personal quarters. The carpeted floor, the paneling, and the meager decor were reminiscent of their family estate in the Prussian heartland, where they grew up together.
But the nostalgic feeling was overshadowed by the reality of the present. He had endured the contemptuous looks from many of them as they made their way there. It was to be expected. He was, after all, a traitor, a defector who deprived the Ironblood of one of their best assets—and deprived himself of the most important person in the world.
But Deutschland had told him his sister was willing to look the other way, even if only because she could use him.
She led him to the study, which was mostly bare save for a desk, several bookcases and cabinets, a crackling fireplace, and, most strikingly, the large globe that once belonged to their father, now full of marks and scribbles.
But his sister was nowhere to be found.
"Eh, she's probably changing," Deutschland spoke, at last. "The uniform she has to wear is stuffy and complicated, she complained. She always liked her lab coat more. Anyway, just go sit wherever. You want a drink?" He shook his head, and she just shrugged.
"Your loss."
She scoffed, and he didn't retort, though not out of the desire not to antagonize her.
The couch was comfortable, and the warmth of the fire was pleasant, but the wait was anything but. He couldn't decide what was eating him up more—the prospect of having to work with the remnants or the same with his sister for whatever agenda she had.
The beat of his heart sped up as he heard the doorknob turn, his breath growing ragged.
And then there she was, emerging from the door, in the uniform of the Supreme Commander that seemed out of place on her slightly hunched, thin form—but her calculating, determined gaze still commanded respect. The now Ironblood leader, Adelheid von Reiner.
"You don't need to stand, Willi," she said before lighting a cigarette. A Gauloises Caporal, as he expected—the brand she had been enjoying since her student days. She blew a smoke and laughed. "And you have my thanks, Dee," she turned to Deutschland, who just shrugged and rolled her eyes.
"Just doing you a favor, Prinzessin. That makes us even."
His sister smirked back, and he remembered just how similar the two were, and not just in demeanor. "We're not going to stay even for long, my dear Dee."
"Yes, sure. If you no longer need me, I'm going to get myself a much-deserved drink," Deutschland grumbled as she strode toward the door. She paused before turning to him. "Good luck, Kapitän." He couldn't tell how sincere she was—or if she was.
When the door slammed shut, his sister walked over to the couch, her stride slow and measured like always, but this time with a little spring to it, and she plopped beside him with gusto.
"You have no idea how relieved I am, Willi," her arm reached around him, and she giggled, girlish and carefree, something that would be disturbing coming from a woman in her forties—but then again, she seemed to hardly age past her twenties, and it wasn't a mere impression.
"Do you, Adel?" He questioned—if only she hadn't grown into someone who kept so many secrets and was intensely pragmatic, then maybe he didn't need to be skeptical. But she had, and he did.
He figured she wouldn't be too hurt by it, though. And he was right. She laughed it off.
"Of course I do, you idiot. We might not always see eye to eye, but you're still family. It's been years since we last saw each other."
"You were occupied with Ministry affairs, and I, with my duty. It can't be helped."
"Then you disappeared," her voice darkened, but not to the point of hostility. She wasn't accusing him of anything despite knowing everything. Perhaps that was even the reason.
"I was a fool to think I alone could help arrange a peace. I certainly didn't expect to fall into the hands of a vengeful man.
And...and..."
Again, he remembered, against his will, the night when she was taken away from him. She didn't scream, nor did she beg.
Whether it was her pride or her way of easing his burden, Eugen didn't give the British the pleasure of seeing her break.
That disgusting bastard had the gall to mock her loyalty as the others hauled him away.
"Say no more, Willi."
Her sister's hand moved to his back, rubbing it. It was something she often did in their youth, whenever they were scared, when their father was being cruel, and when their mother was nowhere to be found. He wouldn't deny the gesture was as comforting as it did then.
"...I know you want to seek her out. And I can provide you the means."
He studied her face. He'd always known the signs when her sister was lying, a habit she picked up from their father and perfected to keep the old man from hurting them. He couldn't see any.
But she also picked up from their father the idea that life was nothing but an endless exchange, and everything had a price, and that warranted the question.
"...What's the catch?"
He waited for the smug smile her sister would always sport whenever someone expressed even the most tentative of interest in her offers, but it never came.
Instead, she took a long, heavy drag from her cigarette, the distinct aroma filling the space between them before slowly drifting up and away.
"The catch? You two will never be able to live normally ever again. You will always be hiding. So, are you willing to pay that price?"
But of course. It was a given. She was only stating the fact, not threatening or taunting.
"...We never were, to begin with. Especially her. And if I don't do it, I will be a fugitive anyway; only this regret will never leave."
"...I could protect you both."
"So, in the end, you do have a condition. You want to keep us here and join you, am I correct?"
Her face twisted into pained frustration, the likes which he had never seen before, as she threw the cigarette into the fire, watching as the flames consumed it.
"Are you against that?"
"I just don't want Eugen to fight ever again. She had done enough."
"And that's not up for you to decide. She will have to make her own choice. And it's just fair that you respect that, as she did for you."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to protest, but he could only admit that he didn't deserve to speak for Eugen. Not after he failed.
"I...understand."
"Thank you," his sister sighed. That was probably the most genuine gratitude she had ever given as an adult. She stood and lit another cigarette as she glanced at the clock.
"Perhaps it's better that we discuss this further over dinner."
"Right. That's still a couple of hours away. What do you expect me to do?"
"I don't know. Get some rest? Walk around? I'm not going to lock you up but keep in mind that some might be less than pleasant. People are getting testy these days, and having a 'traitor' as a guest wouldn't help, I imagine."
"And won't that bring problems to you? Those geezers would talk."
"Nothing I couldn't handle. And they still need me. It's you I'm worried about."
"I could take care of myself," he stood up, groaning from having sat still for too long.
A single laugh and an embrace was her reply.
"Welcome home, brother."
The place didn't feel like home. The medals adorning the uniform and the scent of tobacco clinging to her body didn't feel right; the sensation felt too heavy. But her gesture was a welcome reminder of simpler days when she was just a quiet, unassuming girl and he was a naive boy.
He could at least return the hug.
"Good to be here."
Deutschland was waiting when he stepped out, leaning on the wall, scowling as usual.
"Follow me."
As always, she didn't waste words.
"Where to?"
"Your room. It's still located around Prinzessin's quarters, so don't worry about mingling with people who might not like your presence."
"Uh...that's nice. Anyway, how have you been?" She scoffed, understandably.
"Don't get too chummy now, Kapitän."
"I'm just asking."
"If you insist—things have been crap. It's one mission after the other, with the Prinzessin seemingly obsessed with chasing ghosts, all while being pestered by old, fanatical geezers. Wonderful life, isn't it?"
"Ghosts?"
Of course, there were things that his sister had neglected to tell. From the way she spoke, he guessed that Deutschland had been left mostly in the dark as well.
"Relics. Remains of those who lost. Don't ask me what she's planning with them. She won't tell me a thing."
"And you're fine with that?"
"Better than being here doing nothing. Could use the exercise, you know. Ah, here we are."
The room, he immediately noticed, was anything but spartan. The bed was spacious, and there was another fireplace. The bookshelf was filled with subjects he was keenly interested in, and another one had his favorite records with a phonograph beside it. There were fresh clothes in the closet, too, and they were just like the ones he liked to wear off-duty, along with uniforms.
But, as he noticed as well, there were no windows. Then again, the only sight one would provide was the wastes outside.
"It's...nice."
"Heh, finally, we could put this room to use," Deutschland remarked, confirming his suspicion that it had been set up long before he was rescued. "Dinner starts at seven. Wear nice clothes."
"Wait."
She turned back with a quizzical look.
"What?"
"Uh...this may sound weird, but...what's with that KANSEN called Roon? I've never seen any mention of her in Kriegsmarine records."
"Prinzessin's little pet project. She's not your run-of-the-mill KANSEN. That's all. Don't talk to her unless you have to. Others, like Z46, are okay, though."
"Z46? Another...new KANSEN?"
"Yes, but not like Roon. Her tech is the same as mine. Stop asking things, okay? You're driving me nuts."
"Sorry. Anyway, one last question."
"God, what now?!"
"I know this is going to sound weird, but...could you give me a tour around the base? I'd like to...take a walk." She rolled her eyes and groaned, clearly annoyed, but he knew she would agree.
"Fine, but not for long. Wear a uniform, though. And hurry with the changing."
"So, what exactly do you want to see?"
"Nothing. I just want to look around."
The two continued their stroll, the silence growing heavy but not awkward. Perhaps because it had always been that way for them.
They passed Roon, who apparently had just returned from whatever she had been doing. She was wet all over, her uniform and palms were bloodstained, and her boots left a trail of blood on the floor. He, on instinct, moved behind Deutschland, who was unfazed.
"Why hello, Dee, Kapitän."
"Had fun?"
"Oh, you have no idea, Dee. Hunting was such a blast."
"Take a bath. You stink."
Roon sniffed her sleeves but didn't look scandalized in the slightest. "Ugh, you're right. I should wash up. See you guys!" She skipped away, leaving more blood along the way.
"...Hunting?"
"She needs an outlet. Just let her be. Better those animals than us."
"Uh, right."
He decided he would heed Deutschland's warning after all.
The only other KANSEN they met was the one she mentioned. She was watching mechanics at the workshop tinkering with the riggings, her vacant expression betraying the rapt attention.
She was eerily similar to a doll, and when she noticed them, she barely reacted, and her voice barely changed tone.
"Hello, Fräulein Deutschland...and Herr..."
"This is Willhelm Reiner. A Kapitän zur See."
"Ah...Reichkanzlerin's relative?"
"I'm her brother," he replied. It was a small relief to know the girl likely wasn't aware of what he did.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Z46. Viersechs for short."
"I...see. Nice to meet you."
"I know you have many questions, Viersechs, but we're in a hurry," Deutschland interjected. Maybe it was just him, but the girl's face seemed to fall slightly, though not to the extent it would be readily noticeable.
"Then I will not hold you both back."
She bowed and soon returned to observing.
"...Curious little girl," he remarked.
"Prinzessin's fond of her. Well, in any case, she's more manageable than Roon. Anyway, let's head back. I have something to do, and you probably need to rest."
He did. It already felt like a long day, and it wasn't even over.
"Right. Thanks, Deutschland."
"You owe me a drink."
"You'll pay; you will all pay, especially that harlot. You will pay for what you did to her. My Hood. My beloved Hood."
He jolted awake, barely able to breathe well. It was that man again. His voice, his laugh were still as vivid as ever, a madman's determination to bring him hell on earth.
"Damn you," he cursed. "Damn you!"
"...Oy, you alright?"
"Deutschland..."
"Nightmares, eh? You have my sympathies."
"Save it. What is it?"
"It's 15 minutes to seven. I'm here to remind you of that, fool. Anyway, go change and make yourself presentable."
Only then did he realize Deutschland was wearing a dress, and she didn't seem to be happy about it, even though he thought it did wonders in presenting her in a different light.
"...You too?" He couldn't help but show his amusement, and she certainly caught on to it.
"Don't get used to it. She insisted. Now hurry up, or I'll drag you there in your underwear."
"Fine, fine. Now get out."
She huffed and left, not unlike his sister when their younger selves had one of their rare spat.
He cleared the sweat off his face, took a deep breath, and changed into a suit. It was a little too big. He'd lost more weight than he realized during his captivity. At least the pants were of the right length.
He chose not to linger before the mirror, and after fixing his tie, he exited the room. Deutschland was waiting, arms crossed and feet tapping the floor.
"Follow me," she gestured, and he obeyed.
The dining room was yet another place that reminded him of their old home. The drapes, the tablecloths, the position of everything, save for the decorations—or lack thereof. The only decoration was a faded photo on the fireplace, and he took time to examine it.
He didn't want to get emotional over looking at the two children, the girl holding the boy from behind with the forest as the backdrop. He did anyway—at least before a hand landed on his shoulder.
His sister, wearing the black dress that was apparently the only fancy clothing she ever had, cigarette dangling from her lips, was smiling.
"I'm glad you're here."
"Yeah. Same here," he managed a smile back, this time more sincere, and allowed himself to be pulled to the table and be seated beside her.
Surprisingly, the food wasn't fancy at all, unbefitting of her status. The meatloaf, the potatoes, the peas, the soup—they were just the same rations the soldiers would eat, only with a better presentation. Not that he would complain or question it. It was just his sister being herself.
"Hm...they are a little late."
The tapping of her fingers and the ticking of the clock were the only sounds as they waited.
"You mean...Roon and..."
"Viersechs. Guess you met her already."
"Yes, I did. Is she—"
"Kapitän. Reichkanzlerin. Fräulein Deutschland."
The aforementioned pair made their way inside, and just like Deutschland, they were in dresses that presumably weren't their choice. Z46 was the first to speak, and her face was still unreadable. Roon said nothing, only nodding. Her smile made him uncomfortable still.
"Glad you could join us."
The meal resumed after everyone was seated. His sister's table manners were as poor as ever, and her subordinates didn't seem to care much. Viersechs ate slowly as if it was a new experience she was trying to commit to memory. Roon wasn't as deliberate, but she would, on occasion, jab the meat with her fork as if it was an enemy, but without eating it.
Thus, ironically, Deutschland was the most normal of the three.
Nobody was speaking, either, but the silence was less awkward than he anticipated.
"So...Willi. Did you rest well?"
"Yeah, as well as I could," he replied, deciding not to reveal his nightmares just yet. "Thank you for the room."
"Anything for my family. And by the way, you need to eat more. You look so thin." He laughed, albeit ruefully.
"Can't help it. The British only gave me bread and water, and only once a day."
He could see her hands balling into fists, even though her countenance didn't change, and she didn't pry further. But his sister was no fool, and she would've been aware now that it wasn't the worst that he had to endure.
"If I may ask, Prinzessin, why invite us here?" Deutschland spoke up. His sister looked like she was waiting for that question.
She had the same look she used to give him when she wanted to show something she had created.
"What, I can't be nice to you people? But yes, that's not all. It's about our next course of action. Too bad Zeppelin and Heinrich couldn't join us, but they will be needed elsewhere anyway."
She put down her utensils, dabbed her mouth, and took a deep breath.
"I'm sending you to Norway with the Werwolf. It is time we reclaim what's rightfully ours."
"Not the country, I presume," Deutschland sneered.
"No. Well, this is Doktor Klaus's proposal. Our secret bases are still intact and undiscovered. We could use what's there."
Deutschland had never looked that livid before; he could've sworn.
"That slime? You trusted him?!"
His sister laughed, and for the first time that day, he remembered that she could be cruel.
"No, which is why you'll keep an eye on him. If he acts up, kill him."
It shouldn't come as no surprise that Roon was the only one readily receptive to the idea.
"Certainly, ma'am. I'll crush him if I have to."
"And I have to keep an eye on Viersechs, too?"
"Viersechs will stay out of trouble," the girl, remarkably, wasn't offended at all at the notion she would be a load. Deutschland grumbled something under her breath, and his sister ignored it.
"Fine...Would that be all?"
"Yes and no. I'll provide more details later...because we're in the middle of a meal. I'd rather not have you getting nauseous and all."
"I already did," Deutschland grunted, but she was grinning. "Huh, this is actually good. Hard to believe it's from the same can of meat the grunts eat. You know, the ones you'd rather not know where it came from."
"I'm a woman of many means, Dee."
"And too many secrets, Prinzessin," Deutschland added, earning her a wry look.
"I'm a woman, you know? We're entitled to have them. And you don't mind anyway. Which is good, because you're stuck with me. Forever and ever."
"...Oh, joy. Just wonderful. Lucky me."
He didn't know his sister could cackle like that. Perhaps the disparaging nickname her enemies had given her wasn't far off the mark after all.
Their banter provided some levity for him, but some anxiety remained. He wasn't included in the mission, which could only mean she didn't trust him enough or she had other plans for him.
Or, his thoughts suggested, she was only trying to protect him. He would like to believe it. He really did.
The dessert was pudding, something Roon appeared to enjoy immensely, and she finally stopped stealing glances at him. Even Z46 became a little more animated. He wasn't that hungry to begin with, so he declined a serving.
That pudding was soon gone, too, and drinks were served, and soon it was over, and everyone left, except for him and his sister, and that was only because she asked him to wait.
"If you have questions, ask away," she poured herself another glass of brandy and lit another cigarette. Maybe he was reading into it too much, but she wasn't simply indulging in her vices this time.
"...You're not asking me to go with them?"
"And here I thought you don't want anything to do with my affairs. Do you?"
"...No, but I...don't really want to stay and do nothing. I'd feel like a prisoner all over again. And those nightmares will keep haunting me."
"But you'll be safe."
"From who? Or what?"
The uncomfortably long pause only added to his anxiety, suspicions, and doubts.
"...From anything that will take you away from me again."
She was as candid as she could be, and for a moment, his own emotions almost got the better of him, when the memories of their youth resurfaced. The idyllic days of exploring the lake and the forests were their only refuge from an abusive father and an absent mother.
She had done everything she could to protect him. And, in his own way, he did the same for her, too.
"Adel...keeping me here just like this will only endanger your cause, whatever it is. At least allow me to prove myself. Please."
He hadn't meant to beg, and she had no obligation to listen to his request. Yet, he couldn't bear the thought of being kept in the dark, a prisoner, albeit an unshackled one.
She, in turn, said nothing for a long while, drinking and smoking and gazing at the fading light.
"...Meet me with the others at eight in the morning tomorrow."
"Are you letting me go?"
"That depends."
"Adel, you said you could help me find Eugen. That means I'm still going to leave you anyway, sooner or later."
"...Good point. And I'll have to let you."
She put out the cigarette, emptied the bottle, and stood up.
"I'm going back to work," she declared.
"Adel, it's nine. You aren't going to sleep?"
"There's no rest for the wicked."
Watching her back disappearing from view with such heavy steps was disquieting. The urge to follow her was overwhelming.
Instead, he stayed behind and tried to make sense of her words and actions.
He failed.
His efforts only served to help him realize that he had lost more than he thought.
He, predictably, spent the better part of the night tossing and turning and cursing. He was still up and about at five, though he strangely didn't feel that tired.
He wondered if it would be a good idea to just take a walk on his own. Or maybe not. The prospect of encountering Roon when he was alone wasn't attractive. He wished he could see her in a different light, but his instincts told him that wouldn't be possible anytime soon.
So he decided to wait and read. His sister had provided the books for him, and he wasn't about to leave them unopened.
His only interruption was a soldier delivering breakfast of rolls, cheese, and a boiled egg, who promptly excused himself and the ensuing meal.
He already put the book away when Deutschland came knocking on his door.
"It's time, Kapitän."
"Right."
He took one last look at the room and exited.
"She mentioned the Werwolf yesterday. What are they?"
"Special operations unit formed after the war. The best of the Wehrmacht, and then some. Specialists in sabotage and other unsavory operations."
"Then this is important, then?"
"Everything we do is. Well, this is simpler than most, I suppose. There will be no combat involved. It's more like a recon."
"If that's the mission, then why send you guys?"
"She trusts us more," Deutschland retorted, and she had never sounded that self-satisfied. "And maybe you, too, seeing that you were told to join the briefing."
"She only said it depends."
"It's a start."
Nothing more was said until they reached the room. Z46 was there, as did Roon. The latter seemed to perk up when she noticed them arriving and waved. He could only respond with a reluctant nod; Deutschland didn't even bother.
His sister arrived shortly after, looking more harried than yesterday, reading from a file as she paced to her seat. She didn't acknowledge him, nor the others, until she was seated.
"I'm glad you're all here. Now, everyone in the high command has approved this plan, so we are good to go. This will be brief, so pay attention."
She opened the file and took a deep breath, her eyes lingering on each one of them.
"You are going to the Finnmark County near the Finnish border. Your mission is to retrieve blueprints and whatever tech you can take, especially for the unfinished and unrealized projects from the research facility there...the Siegfried Complex. Our sources have indicated there is no Allied presence as of now, but you will need to keep your guard up and avoid engagement at all costs. The place is very likely to be booby-trapped, and I imagine its automated defense system is still very much active; though Doktor
Klaus claims he has the layout of the place mapped, we can't be too sure. Deutschland will be in charge, along with Hauptmann Theodor. Any questions?"
To his surprise, it was the Hauptmann who raised his hand.
"...Reichkanzlerin, with all due respect, where does your brother fit in all this?"
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being seen as a potential problem, even though the officer's face was stone-like.
"I'm putting him under your watch. Make use of him as you see fit. If he causes problems, just lock him up."
At least she didn't tell them to shoot him dead if he became a liability. Still, the ease with which she could dismiss him like that stung.
"But I highly doubt he'll cause you problems. He isn't a Kriegsmarine officer for nothing, even if our father's enemies say otherwise. If anything, you could trust him like I do." It was a relief, and at the same time, not.
"If you say so, Reichkanzlerin."
"Good boy. Now, you will depart tonight on the U-3530. You will find the list of what you need to bring and other things in the file before you. Any other questions?"
There were none, and everyone was dismissed. He stayed, and she didn't seem to mind.
"Do you still remember how to speak Norwegian?"
"I think I do."
"And you think you're fit enough?"
"Yeah."
"Well then, I can rest easy."
"Now you're putting so much faith in me, Adel?"
"I've always do."
"Right...thank you."
He had almost forgotten, but then she reached out, and the familiar sensation of her touch brought back a memory of when she held him, her arms wrapped around him, the only warmth he felt when everything else was cold and distant.
It took everything he had not to break down crying right there and then.
"I'll see you again."
"I'll come back."
"You better. And not just for my sake."
He understood.