Wilhemshaven Naval Shipyard, Wilhemshaven – 20 November 1942

Frank leaned against the container right under the streetlamp, right across from the destroyer Z39 Heinrich Hahnel. His limbs ached and his shoulders felt heavy after a hard day's work. He looked at the ship which he had worked on from dawn to dusk, fixing her and getting her ready for the sea again. While lost in those thoughts, someone whistled at him. He turned his head and saw Cäsar coming.

"Hey, Frank!"

"Hey, Cäsar," he said, nodding his head in greeting. "What're you doin' here?"

"Just finished. What about yourself?"

"Same."

Frank pointed at the Heinrich Hahnel.

"Oh right, you're on Hartwich's team."

Cäsar joined him and together they had their backs to the container, looking at the ship. Cäsar took out a pack of cigarettes, opened it, and took one out. He put it in his mouth before offering one to Frank, who uttered a word of thanks as he took one. Cäsar took out his lighter and lit their cigarettes as they smoked the cold night away.

"You heard, Frank?"

"About what?"

"Apparently the Brits bombed Berlin, about two days ago."

"Again? Was it bad?"

"Not sure, but I heard it wasn't good."

"Can't believe those Brits are still in this war. We should've invaded them a long time ago."

"They've got no chance. The Führer will lead us to victory, I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, you're right. What chance do our enemies have when we control Europe?" he quipped with a chuckle.

"You got that right," chuckled Cäsar along with him.

He turned his head to look at Frank as they laughed together. But his heart stopped when he saw a pair of eyes hidden beneath a hood coming out of the corner.

"Frank! Watch out!"

Frank only had time to look at Cäsar in surprise before the blade entered his neck. He tried to speak, but only gurgling and blood came out. The Assassin took out his blade and let Frank's lifeless body fall forward, blood flowing out of his neck onto the road. Cäsar tried to shout, but he felt something sharp enter his neck from behind. His hand grasped at his neck and found a blade protruding from its front. Shaking, he felt a mixture of pain and fear, before the blade was pulled out violently and he fell to the ground, dead.

"Karsten," called out the Assassin who had just killed Cäsar.

Karsten nodded back and held up his hand, before gesturing for the others to move forward. Two more Assassins rushed out of the darkness and headed straight for the Heinrich Hahnel. Karsten and the other Assassin followed. Once they reached the boardwalk, Karsten told the other Assassin to stay there and cover their rear. He nodded and hid behind the railings of the ship. Soon, Karsten and the two Assassins returned.

"Let's go," he says as the Assassins left the ship and disappeared back into the darkness.

Not five minutes later, two guards on patrol passed by the Heinrich Hahnel. One of them stopped in his tracks as he saw the bodies of Frank and Cäsar. He stopped his partner.

"Look! Something's wrong!"

They took their rifles which were slung behind their backs and rushed to the corpses and tried to get a heartbeat, but there was none.

"We need to report this right aw-"

His words were cut off by a sudden, massive explosion on the Heinrich Hahnel. The two guards were thrown to the ground. Their surroundings were suddenly lit by the flames that had erupted. The two guards were left speechless as the alarms started blaring. Men started rushing towards the dock to see, but as they did another explosion rocked the other end of the shipyard. Another ship had exploded. And then one more.

The guards were left on the ground, staring at the flames.

Forest in Germany – 24 January 1943

Jeremia put the small log on the trunk, making sure it was right in the centre. Satisfied, he moved back and took his axe. Weighing it in his hands, he visualised cutting the log in his head. He brought the axe up above his head and let the blade fall straight down onto the log, cutting it in half. He leaned against the axe as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He looked at all the firewood he had gathered and nodded to himself in satisfaction.

This should get us through quite a bit of time, he thought to himself.

"Jeremia!" shouted Doris from the house.

Jeremia dropped everything and immediately ran back. He found Doris standing just outside the front door, shaking and on the verge of tears. He ran towards her and hugged her.

"What's wrong, Doris?"

She pointed towards the distance, towards the dirt road that was their only connection with the rest of civilisation since they began hiding. There was a truck approaching, and it wasn't just any truck. Even from a distance, Jeremia could tell that it was a military truck. It was coming, and it was coming fast.

"How did they find us?!" he half-shouted as he gripped Doris tightly.

A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Should we just run? But we won't be able to survive this winter in the forest without supplies. There's no time to pack. They'll be here any moment now.

But his indecision was his undoing. Before long, the truck had stopped not far from their house. Jeremia and Doris clung to each other tightly, not knowing what else they could do. It was useless to run at this point. Soldiers were coming out of the back of the truck, half a dozen of them with their rifles at the ready. At the end, their leader came out, similarly dressed and armed. They surrounded the house before Jeremia and Doris even realised.

"Good afternoon," greeted Jeremia. "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Be quiet, you Jewish rat," spat Sergeat Schmeller in return. "You thought you could hide out here, away from civilisation, did you?"

Jeremia hugged Doris deeper, fearing that if he let his grip loose then they would take her away from him.

"We're just trying to live our lives, sir."

"Save your pitiful excuses. We know who you are. A little birdie told us about you. You're coming with us."

At those words, Schmeller gestured for his men to move. Two soldiers came forard, guns at the ready. They grabbed Doris' arm and tried to pry her away.

"Wait, please, we'll go, we'll go! So let her go!"

But they persisted, and eventually succeeded in pulling her away from his embrace.

"Jeremia!"

Before he realised it, Jeremia had reached one of the soldiers handling her and his fist had hit the soldier's cheek, sending him to the snowy ground. But their retaliation was even quicker. The other soldiers came and started beating him with the butts of their rifles. He crouched and eventually rolled into a ball on the thick snow as the soldiers hit and kicked him. He could hear Doris shouting his name in the background.

Then suddenly he was dragged up by his collar. He was made to stand on his knees, and one of the soldiers brought the butt of his rifle straight towards his cheek. The pain was instant, searing through his face as he fell to the snow. Then they resumed their hitting and kicking.

"You damned rats," spat Schmeller once again. "Most of your kind left Germany before the war. Why are you still here? Maybe we should kill you here and there. No one will miss a couple of rats."

"Sir," suddenly one of the soldiers called out to him.

"What?"

The soldier pointed towards the road. There was a car headed straight for them. By the looks of it, it was a Kübel. The soldiers stopped their hitting and kicking, but Jeremia stayed on his knees in the snow, bloodied and bruised.

The Kübel finally came to a halt not far from the truck. Inside were three soldiers and an officer. One of the soldiers promptly got out and opened the door for the officer, who stepped out and walked towards Schmeller and his men. Schmeller, for his part, stepped forward and saluted the officer.

"Heil Hitler!" he shouted as he raised his arm in salute.

The officer saluted back.

"At ease," he said. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing, sir. Just handling a couple of fugitive rats. Jews, sir. They tried to hide here in the middle of nowhere, but we caught up to them eventually. Can I help you with something, sir?"

"We just came to check up on things. But what's there?" pointed the officer to a spot behind Schmeller.

He turned around, and when he did the officer took out a gun and shot him straight in the back of the head. Blood and brains spurted out of the hole left by the gun as Schmeller fell to the ground. At nearly the same time, the soldiers with the officer took out their own guns and opened fire at the other soldiers. Three fell immediately, leaving five men alive.

The five remaining men immediately started shooting back, taking cover. The officer and his three men shot back, taking cover as well. One of Schmeller's soldiers fell as he tried to get into cover. What followed was an exchange of fire. Jeremia ran to Doris and pulled her into the house as bullets whizzed around them. They hugged each other tightly and tried to make themselves as small a target as possible.

The gunfight blazed outside. Another of Schmeller's soldiers was killed, leaving three left. One tried to lean out and shoot but received a bullet in the face as a result. The remaining two could not leave their covers, as the barrage of bullets came endlessly from the officer and his soldiers.

"Wait! Wait!" finally one of them shouted. "We surrender!"

The shots stopped. The two remaining soldiers came out and dropped their weapons. They raised their hands above their heads and looked down, walking forward towards the centre of the clearing. They were shaking, both from the cold and from fear. When they reached the centre, they dropped to their knees. The officer came out with his soldiers, keeping their guns pointed at the two soldiers. The officer ignored them and went into the house, where he found Jeremia and Doris still huddled together, crying in fear.

"It's okay," the officer said.

He took off his cap and showed his face to them.

"My name's Jan. I'm not one of them. We're here to rescue you."

Jan dropped his gun and held out a hand. Jeremia and Doris looked at him sheepishly, still not sure whether they could trust him or not. But Jeremia took his hand, and Jan helped him up. Then Jeremia helped his wife up, though her legs were shaking, and she could barely stand.

"Let's get you out of here. It's not safe for you anymore. We'll find you a new place to hide out this war."

Jan escorted them out. Doris took one look at the dead bodies strewn around the clearing and looked away, burying herself in Jeremia's chest. Jeremia couldn't take his eyes off the dead soldiers. The first deaths he had seen since Kristallnacht. Jan escorted them to the truck and had them go in the back. Then he returned to the Assassins dressed as soldiers, still holding the two real soldiers at gunpoint.

"What should we do, Jan?"

"Please," one of them begged. "Please don't kill us. We surrender."

He looked up to see Jan's face and at once felt his heart drop and his entire body shuddered in cold fear. Jan's eyes were looking at them with hatred he had never seen in his life. It was as if they were nothing more than ants, and that he was about to stamp them with his boots.

"Kill them."

"Wa-" one of them tried to shout as he stood up, but the Assassins shot him down before he could finish.

Two bullets went through his head. The other soldier only had time to look at his dead friend and look in the eyes of the Assassin who shot him point blank through the forehead. They took the bodies and the bodies of Schmeller and his other soldiers into Jeremia's house. They took what Jeremia asked them to take and put it in the truck.

Two Assassins took the driver's and passenger's seat in front, while another went into the back of the truck. Jan stayed outside, looking through the door where a pile of dead bodies lay. He then took out a lighter and threw it into the house. Soon, it was engulfed in flames. As the fire became larger, Jan got into the back of the truck.

"Let's go," he shouted to the front.

The truck left the scene as the fire burnt the house and everything in it.

Tangermünde, Saxony, Germany – 13 February 1943

Obersturmbannführer Eugen Kindler sat on a chair in the dining room. Bread with butter, cheeses, eggs, with a side of coffee for breakfast as he read the reports of the latest news regarding the war. Munich, Vienna, and Berlin had all been bombed heavily by the Allies. Though they still had the upper hand, the war was not going well. At least, not for Germany. As he sipped a bit of his coffee, he was interrupted by one of the guards who had come from the front of the house. He raised his hand in salute and said "Heil Hitler!". Kindler replied in kind and asked him what was so important that it had to bother his breakfast.

"There is a man and woman at the door, sir."

"Who?"

"They didn't give their names, but they are insisting that they wish to see you."

"Whatever for? What is their business?"

"They said that they have business with a certain Frau Hauschka?"

At the mention of that name, Kindler's eyes went wide with shock. He put down the cup and faced the soldier once more.

"Frau Hauschka? You heard correctly?"

"Yes, sir."

"Arrest them at once, and-"

His words were cut off by the sound of a fight and gunshots outside.

"They're trying to get in!" shouted one soldier from outside, followed by a gunshot and a scream.

The guard in front of Kindler took his rifle from his back and went into the hallway while aiming it. He took cover behind a cabinet and started shooting.

"They're trying to get in, sir!"

Kindler wasted no time. He took his cap, put it on, and ran towards the back door. At the back, the three soldiers guarding the car were on high alert, their rifles out and ready.

"Sir, what's happening?"

"Let's go! Terrorists are trying to kill me. Get me out of here!"

Two guards immediately went into the front seats, while the other guard opened the door for Kindler. After he went in, the guard himself got in and, without wasting any time, the driver stepped on the gas and drove out from behind the house and into the main street.

How could they know about Frau Hauschka?

Kindler racked his brains in the car as they drove as far away as possible from the house. Only a few people close to him knew of her existence. Some of them didn't even know her name. Then it must be one of the ones who did know her name. They must have been captured, or worse, maybe they have been betrayed.

"Sir! There's a car following us!"

Kindler looked back and saw a car speeding through traffic and closely approaching them. Whenever they turned, the car turned.

"Step on it! We have to lose them."

"Where should we go, sir?"

"To the nearest Schutzstaffel base, quickly!"

The driver accelerated, but the car was keeping up and slowly getting closer.

"Faster, you fool!"

"I can't, sir, this is the fastest I'm going!"

Kindler kept looking back at the car, trying to find out the identity of these terrorists. Suddenly, one of them leaned out of the window. He or she was dressed in a robe that covered half their face. His heart dropped, and he caught spit in his throat.

Assassins.

The Assassin took out a rifle, aimed it at them, and began shooting. One of the bullets went through the back window, shattering it. Kindler and his men lowered their heads to avoid the shots, and the driver almost lost control of the car.

"Shoot back, dammit!"

He took out his own handgun as the soldier next to him opened fire on the Assassins through the shattered back window. He shot at them as well, but they couldn't hit the Assassins. The Assassin did not shoot much, but each time they did their shot seemed closer and closer to their target, until finally one shot hit the soldier next to him straight in the head.

"You too! Lean out and start shooting!" he shouted to the soldier in the front passenger seat.

The soldier hesitantly leaned out and started shooting with his rifle, but mere moments later he was shot and fell dead out of the car.

"Why aren't we losing them?!" he demanded of the driver. "Do something!"

But at those words, one of the tires exploded under them as the Assassin shot it. The driver lost control of the car. It swerved and swerved until it finally crashed into the pavement, hitting a building and narrowly missing people who were walking.

Kindler and the driver left the car, wounded and bleeding. They had no rest, as the Assassins had stopped their own car and had come out, approaching them. The driver raised his rifle but was shot dead before he could shoot even once. Kindler shot at them with his handgun, but one Assassin closed the distance and broke his arm. In pain, he dropped the gun and was pushed down onto the pavement, leaning against his car.

"Where is Hauschka?"

It was the voice of a woman. She held her blade against his neck.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

The Assassin took her gun, put it right against his leg, and pulled the trigger. He screamed in pain as blood began to flow from the wound.

"Let's try that again. Where is Hauschka?"

He didn't say anything. This time, the Assassin put the gun right against his shoulder and took a shot. Kindler could barely handle the pain spreading throughout his entire body. The Assassin put her blade against Kindler's neck, pushing it deep enough to just draw a little blood.

"Where. Is. Hauschka?"

He gulped. Cold sweat was pouring down his face.

"Magdeburg. She's in Magdeburg."

She took away the blade. Kindler relaxed and grasped at his shoulder and leg as the blood spread across the pavement. But then the Assassin lifted up her gun and shot him straight in the neck. His body stiffened from the shot and his eyes were crazed. He grasped at his neck for a few moments, gasping for air. And then his head fell limp. The Assassin stood up and walked back towards the car.

"What did he say, Elisabeth?"

"Magdeburg," she replied. "Hauschka is in Magdeburg."