Tapferer Soldat, Stirb mit Mir

As they went down the hall Hans realized the fortress wasn't as big inside as it appeared from the outside. The bulk of its size was taken up by the bastions in each of its four corners, stretching out away from the center of the fortress and giving it a vague resemblance to a throwing star.

The interior, however, was simply a few buildings, most of which were long blockhouses, around a central courtyard. Hans and Paul had ended up in an underground hallway that stretched from one end of the island to the other. They followed it to the end and took the stairs up, emerging in the fort's gatehouse. The large red-brick building was two stories tall, with a tower adjacent to it to give the original occupants a commanding view of a countryside that no longer existed.

Hans and Paul carefully cleared the tower and took the stairs inside up to the top, crouching by the battlements. The midnight rain had completely tanked visibility, but there were enough lanterns running in the fort's buildings to give them reasonable visibility.

The main problem, besides not knowing where Kaiser Gaston was, was the Panther tank parked outside the main gate. If they didn't take it out, then it'd just turn around and hunt them down once the shooting started. It had to be destroyed.

Hans looked around. The roof of the tower had a 20mm flak gun on it, but due to the close range and elevation they wouldn't be able to use it against the Panther. He motioned to Paul and the two of them went back down the tower, keeping low as they moved through the gatehouse. Hans looked out a window overlooking the approach to the gate and looked at the Panther, its back to them. If it weren't for the movement of the machine guns traversing he'd almost believe it was unoccupied.

"Hans," Paul whispered. "Over here."

Hans moved over to where Paul was, standing next to a wood crate. Hans peered inside at the Panzerfausts and nodded. "Nice find," he said, pulling out one of the disposable launchers. Paul took two, slinging both over his shoulder. Whether they would be enough to take out the tank remained to be seen, but it was their best shot.

*BAM!*

Hans stumbled back, nearly falling on his ass, as a gunshot suddenly rang out. The bullet hit the crate next to them, sending wood chips flying. Hans crouched and pulled out the FG42, finding a man crouching by the stairs to the tower, cycling the bolt of a K98. Both he and Paul cut the man down in a burst of return fire, the flash from Paul's STG lighting up the dimly lit room.

Hans ran over to the window and saw the Panther's engine roar to life, the turret turning. The bridge to the gatehouse was too narrow for the large tank to turn on, so the driver's only choices were either accelerate or reverse. Their only shot of taking the Panther out would be to hit it from behind.

"Quick!" Hans said, smashing out the window and pulling out the Panzerfaust. Luckily for the both of them the driver chose to accelerate, keeping the rear of the vehicle facing them. Hans tucked the launcher under his arm, held it firmly against his side, and lined up the sight. The Panther was just thirty feet away, and at this close a range the sights were almost unnecessary.

Hans depressed the lever, launching the 149mm warhead into the engine compartment of the vehicle. The warhead detonated, blasting the engine and its cover into shreds. The vehicle came to a stop, turret still rotating to address the threat behind it. Hans dropped the spent rocket tube and unslung his paratrooper rifle, covering Paul as he got into position. He fired the first tube, hitting the vehicle in the rear of its left-side tracks and throwing them from the road wheels.

"Agh, damnit," Paul said, dropping the spent tube. Hans was about to ask him what was wrong when a monarchist came running up the steps, MP40 in hand. Hans fired a quick burst from the FG42, catching the woman in her shoulder and upper chest. She tumbled to the floor, screaming, and Hans finished her off.

Hans cast a glance at Paul. He had the second Panzerfaust out and was about to take the shot when the wall exploded inward, flinging thousands of shards of glass and stone through the room and knocking over Hans and Paul. Ears ringing, Hans looked out the window and saw that the Panther's turret had finished its turn, the muzzle of the main gun aiming at the gatehouse. Hans snatched up the rocket launcher and ran across the room, Paul in tow, the two of them heading for the door and crashing through it.

Outside the door was a small open-air walkway to the tower, giving them an unobstructed view of the Panther. The commander inside saw them on the walkway and the turret began to turn left, the hum of its motor audible over the pouring rain. Hans tucked the weapon under his arm, lined up the end of the rocket with the leaf sight, and slammed his thumb down on the firing lever. The rocket flashed forward, slamming into the side of the Panther's turret and boring through it. Night turned to day as the ammunition inside the tank's turret cooked off, sending the turret flying into the sky and killing everyone inside.

"Wooo!" Paul yelled, STG in hand. "Nice shot!"

"Don't celebrate yet," Hans said, dumping the tube on the ground. "We've still got a job to do."

The two of them went back into the gatehouse and downstairs, checking the door at the ground level before heading back out into the rain. Hans had thought the battle would've brought every monarchist in the base running, but there was no activity to speak of. Whether it was because the NDM soldiers were all hunkering down or because there were few in the fortress, Hans couldn't say.

He and Paul had just eased up to a door and were about to go inside when a dozen work lights suddenly snapped on in the center of the courtyard, illuminating it. Hans raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden light, blinking a few times to adjust. As his vision adapted to the light he lowered his hand, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"My God," Paul said, "are those what I think they are?"

At the center of the Spandau Zitadelle's courtyard, mounted to their launching platforms with their tips aimed skyward, were four V2 missiles. The enormous rockets towered over the fortress, their paint dull and surfaces heavily scratched, but otherwise completely intact.

Hans was about to take a step forward when Kaiser Gaston suddenly stomped out from behind one of the missiles, his steel feet pulverizing the pebbles beneath. "There is, when you stand here, a certain sense of introspection. Here, on this spot, we are but tiny motes of dust amid the bright expanse of the cosmos. And yet, we are about to make history."

Hans glanced at Paul, who shrugged, and the two of them stood. The Kaiser stopped, standing next to one of the missiles, and looked at them. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"Where are your soldiers?" Paul asked. "Sneaking up on us?"

"It's just us here," Gaston said. "You both killed all the rest. I only brought a few guards here, along with the Panther. It was my thought that the forces at Schloss Charlottenburg would be enough to hold you and the Americans off long enough. Your presence has proven me wrong, but at least now you can witness me usher in a new age of European peace."

"What the Hell are you talking about now?" Hans said.

"I'm talking about something that will change Europe forever," Gaston said. "When these warheads come raining down on the forces of the Euro-American Enclave all of Germany and Europe will bear witness to a new paradigm shift brought about by me and the Neue Deutsche Monarchie!"

"Christ's sake," Hans said. "Do you even hear yourself? Where did you even find these things?"

Gaston turned and 'looked' at him, a single camera mounted to his brain tank his link to the world. "At Peenemunde, to the north. They were all interred there when the facility became a museum. Restoring them and converting their warheads to bear Sarin payloads was a trivial task."

Hans' blood turned to ice. "You filled all four of these missiles with Sarin?! Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"What mind?" Paul quipped. "He's a giant robot brain in a jar."

"I don't expect either of you to understand, but it matters very little," Gaston said. "A new dawn is rising over Europe, and I won't surrender it to the interests of whatever remains of the United States. France and England have already paid the price. And where does it end? In Austria? Poland? Whatever's left of the Soviet Union? Of course, that's their true goal, is it not? To continue the war against Red China and the Soviets? A sad joke."

Hans scoffed. "The only joke here is you, plotting to unleash a chemical hell on thousands of people. For God's sake man, there are innocent people living at Tempelhofer Feld. Kids!"

"The Euro-American Enclave killed them, not me, when they inducted them into their indoctrination centers. Have you ever set foot in one? Do you know what they're teaching those children you care so much about? They want to commit a global genocide against people like Rotters and Sturmutants. People who want only to be treated as equals, if not human."

"Says the guy who wants to turn everyone into robots," Paul said.

"And isn't that you want, too?" Hans asked. "You said yourself the NDM would bring all of Europe under its heel. You would force stability on Europe at the end of a gun."

"That is what it will take, whether you can see that or not. War is not genocide. The other nations of our world need only submit willingly to my vision for humanity to avoid bloodshed. The noble ends justify the hard means."

Hans shook his head. "You are genuinely insane. A genocidal, psychotic warmongering hypocrite. I won't go along with it, and neither will Paul. You're no different from those you claim to oppose. Even if your vision is what was best for Germany I still wouldn't stand for it after seeing what that nerve gas does to people. I don't know where you found that shit, but it should've stayed buried. Or, better yet, should've been destroyed."

"Is it really that different from the nukes that destroyed our world?" Gaston asked. "They killed billions, the Americans and Chinese. And now you want to sell out Germany to the former to help them eradicate the latter. Who's really the immoral one here?"

"You," Hans said without hesitation. "I've killed plenty of people, I won't deny it. I've killed to defend myself, killed to defend others, and even killed for revenge. I have regrets, I have things I wish I could go back and change, but this? It would be the biggest regret of my life if I walked away and let you launch these things. I won't have any part in it."

Gaston seemed to think about it for a few moments, standing still in the glow of the work lights as the torrential rain came down all around them. After a minute or so the mechanical man shifted on his feet, opened a panel on his right thigh, and pulled out a Glock 86 Plasma Defender.

"Absolving yourself of the responsibility does not absolve you of the consequences," Kaiser Gaston I said, raising the plasma gun and preparing to fire.

"SCATTER!" Paul yelled, and the two of them went running in different directions as Gaston pulled the trigger on the Plasma Defender. Hans went left, around the outer edge of the building, and Paul went right. The two of them rushed into the midst of the V2s, banking on Gaston being hesitant to fire at his own missiles.

They got their wish. Instead of shooting at them the Kaiser just charged at them, his steel feet thundering loudly against the pavement. He rushed at Paul, the two of them opening fire in unison at the machine man. Their bullets hit his armored chassis, leaving dents and scratches but failing to damage him in any meaningful way.

Gaston reached Paul and swung his fist, his servos whining. Paul ducked and scrambled away, and Gaston turned to follow and put his back to Hans. The FG42 coughed, the sound of the bullets slamming into Gaston's plates louder than the shots. Hans groaned in frustration as his bullets failed to have any effect.

The Kaiser turned around, focusing his attention on Hans. He raised his Plasma Defender and fired, the orbs screaming through the air and hitting the wall behind Hans. He scurried around the base of the nearest V2, reloading the paratrooper rifle as he did.

"AIM FOR THE BRAIN TANK!" Hans yelled, peeking out from around the base of the missile. There was no sign of Gaston, and he was about to move again when he heard stomping behind him. He turned and found himself face to face with the mechanical monarch. He raised the FG42 to fire and Gaston grabbed it, wrenching it out of his hands and throwing it hard enough against the nearby wall to shatter the stock and bend the barrel.

Hans dove to the ground as Gaston raised his foot and attempted to kick him in the chest. He scrambled to his feet and ran around another V2, pulling out the Mars Automatic as he did so. He heard Paul open up with his Sturmgewehr, the assault rifle clattering loudly. Hans leaned out from around the base of the missile and fired, his bullets hitting Gaston's shoulders. His brain tank was in a U-shaped alcove, protecting it on three sides from gunfire. Their only chance was to shoot him head-on.

"MOVING!" Paul yelled, rushing to a position opposite Hans' and putting the Kaiser between the two of them. Gaston turned, focusing on Paul. Hans watched him move, studying his mechanical body for any weaknesses. As far as Hans could see, Gaston's servos were contained inside the joints of his mechanical body, shielding them from the outside world. With both his servos and internal components shrouded in armor there was no chance to kill him but to shoot his brain tank.

Hans aimed high, squinting through the narrow sights of the Mars Automatic. He watched as Gaston approached Paul and swung, his fist clanging off the side of one of the V2s. Hans waited until Paul was clear before firing, the Mars bucking his wrist hard as he sent a .45 Mars Long slug through the air. The bullet hit the shield around Gaston's brain tank, denting it but failing to do any damage. He fired twice more, his bullets sailing through the air and slamming into Gaston's armored shoulder and upper chassis.

Gaston turned, chasing Paul as he ran for cover. He turned, crouched, and fired. His bullets hit high, slamming into Gaston's shoulders. One bullet skated across the surface of the machine man's brain tank, cracking it. Paul was about to move again when Gaston closed the distance and grabbed his Sturmgewehr, crushing it in his grip.

Damn, should've grabbed more Panzerfausts.

With their rifles down the two of them were left with their pistols, a fact that clearly made Gaston bolder. He holstered his Plasma Defender and went hand-to-hand, sticking close to Hans and Paul to keep them on the defensive. His steel hands swung and punched, trying to land just one good hit on both of them. Hans fired the Mars until it ran dry, frantically reloading while Gaston honed in on Paul. He didn't have much ammo left for the Mars, but all it would take was one well-placed shot.

Hans watched as Paul ducked and weaved, trying to avoid Gaston's blows and get away at the same time. The mechanical man grabbed Paul, lifted him up, and threw him across the courtyard. He slammed into one of the V2s and dropped to the ground, groaning and struggling to stand. With Paul down for the moment Gaston was free to focus on Hans, turning and quickly stalking towards him. Hans raised the Mars and fired, his bullets hitting Gaston's hand as he brought it up to shield his brain tank. He reached Hans and swung, forcing Hans to drop to the ground where Gaston swiftly kicked him, fracturing one of his ribs and sending him sprawling.

Winded, in pain, Hans slowly stood and saw Gaston going back for Paul, who had gotten back to his feet and was back in the fight. He ducked and charged in, keeping close to Gaston and forcing him to turn. His mechanical body was strong and powerful, but not very agile. If they had any chance of killing him, it would be through exploiting his lack of agility.

Hans took a moment to catch his breath and raised the Mars, struggling to focus through the pouring rain. Kaiser Gaston stomped between the V2s, going back and forth between the two men. He's toying with us, Hans realized. Playing with his prey. Gaston grabbed Paul by the shoulder, restrained his gun arm, and kicked out his legs. Paul fell to the ground and rolled away just in time as Gaston slammed his foot down, trying to crush Paul beneath it. The cobblestones beneath his feet were shattered into dust, little pieces of them falling to the ground as Gaston lifted his foot.

Paul got to his feet and was about to make a break for it when Gaston grabbed him again, throwing him against one of the V2s. He swung and Paul ducked, receiving a knee to the jaw as he did. Spitting out a pair of bloody teeth Paul dived for the dirt as Gaston kicked, narrowly missing him and hitting the V2's base.

Hans fired the Mars and was about to fire again when the massive gun failed to respond. "Shit," he said instinctively, bringing the gun down to inspect it. The gun had jammed, the elevator misfeeding the round and pushing against the side of the chamber. He was about to clear it when he heard Paul screaming and looked up, horrified to see that Gaston had lifted him up by the shoulder and was about to punch him.

Hans dropped the jammed gun and charged forward. Gaston sensed the threat and threw Paul to the side, where he slammed legs-first into the base of a V2. Hans tried to stop and change course, his momentum keeping him on a collision course with Kaiser Gaston. The machine man reached out and batted Hans to the side, sending him rolling across the ground, where he hit his head on the base of a V2.

"HANS! HANS!"

Head swimming, Hans sluggishly stood, holding his head. His hand came away bloody. The pain was immense, but not unbearable. He looked up and saw Paul lying on the ground, rolling around as he dodged Gaston's feet. The machine man was practically on top of him, seconds away from landing a blow and crushing Paul to death. He stomped and stomped, his thick steel feet chasing Paul as he struggled to get away.

Visions of Walter, Hilda, and Klara flashed through Hans' mind. The knife won't work, he thought. He's going to die... No! NO! I WON'T lose him too! After everything we've been through, I won't lose Paul too!

With no other option Hans charged forward and jumped onto the back of Kaiser Gaston, throwing him off balance. The machine man staggered forward, trying to throw Hans off. For whatever reason he couldn't reach up and back to grab Hans, his mechanical arms unable to bend in that way. This time, it will be different, Hans thought. He grabbed one of his grenades and yanked the cord. It WILL be DIFFERENT! Screaming, Hans brought the grenade down, slamming the head into the cracked glass of Gaston's brain tank and shattering it.

*BOOM!*

The grenade went off, shredding Gaston's brain and blowing Hans clear of the machine man. He was flung across the courtyard, landing in a heap and rolling across the cobble until he came to a rest against the base of a V2. Kaiser Gaston, his brain a scrambled mess, dropped to the ground with a tremendous *CLANG!*, his mechanical limbs splayed. "Hans! Hans," Paul said, struggling to stand. The hit had sprained his ankle badly, leaving him deeply in pain. He shuffled over to where Hans was laying, gritting his teeth as he dragged his wounded leg behind him. "Hans, Hans, my God..."

Paul dropped to his knees and rolled Hans over, black smoke trailing from the shards of shrapnel in his chest. Painful, but survivable. What was not survivable, however, was the jagged sliver of steel that stuck out of Hans' right eye, his left staring sightlessly at the sky above as the rain continued to pour, the droplets hitting his face and open eye without so much as a flinch.

"Ohh... Jesus Christ man!" Paul said, gripping Hans by the collar of his shirt. "You stupid, stupid selfless bastard! Why did you do that?! What about Erich?! What about Helga?! What am I gonna tell her! You two were gonna be business partners! You were gonna make bank and establish stores all over Berlin, you fucking... Argghh!"

Paul screamed in anguish, gripping Hans' collar tighter and shaking his friend's inert body. Hans continued to lie there. Unmoving, unseeing, unfeeling. He was dead, and there was nothing left for Paul to do. He stared at Hans' face, teeth gritted and tears streaming down his face, mixing with the rain drops.

"God damn it..." Paul said, releasing his hold on Hans and pulling back. He knelt there on the pavement, ankle throbbing, and stared at the corpse of Hans Eckhart. He saw Hans' pistol lying on the ground nearby and crawled over to it. He picked it up, saw that it was jammed, and laughed. A harsh, bitter laugh as a fresh wave of anguish and guilt washed over him. He went back over to Hans and knelt next to him, gripping the Mars tightly. "You were my brother, man," Paul said, his voice thick. "We were going to fix the world together! We were gonna be rich! We were gonna be the leaders of a new and free Germany! We were gonna have it all!"

Paul took a deep breath and blew it out, the exhaustion taking hold as the adrenaline seeped out. Everything they'd done, everything they'd been through, and he was the last one standing. A spirit like that of Hans Eckhart came once a generation. Paul knew that from experience. He sighed again, cleared the jammed gun, and set it down on Hans chest. "Wherever you are now, you're gonna need this," Paul said with a forlorn smile.

He stood, tentatively put weight on his wounded ankle, and stood there amid the four V2 missiles, staring down at the dead body of his best friend. He stood there for hours, until the light of the dawn began to break across the Berlin sky, muted by the clouds that continued to pour rain across the city below.

As dawn broke, Paul March sighed, rubbed his face, and unhooked his shovel.