Bonds

"...Paul?"

"Hans!" his old friend exclaimed. "What the Hell...? How? When? Wait, don't answer any of that. The real question is 'why?'"

"A simple question with a difficult answer," Hans said.

"You know this guy?" his squad leader asked.

"Yeah. A long time. A very long time now, actually."

"Three years isn't that long," Paul said. "Unless you've officially reached the sentimental age."

Hans rolled his eyes. "These days 29 is the new 70. Let's go take a look at the roof; make sure it's secure." The two of them peeled off from their squads and took the stairs to the roof, carefully stepping out onto its surface and spreading out. Satisfied that it was clear they linked up by the edge closest to the river, the water illuminated solely by the stars. Hans looked at the buildings below, taking in the view. Save for the starlight Berlin was pitch dark, those still living in its buildings smart enough to know not to keep candles or lanterns lit late into the night.

"Some view, huh?" Paul asked. "Imagine what it was like before The Bomb."

"Don't have to," Hans said. "I never went up into any tall buildings or towers before the war, but I do remember what the streets looked like back then. The trees were all changing color and shedding their leaves for the fall. I remember seeing them swirling across the streets... When The Bomb came, the shockwave blasted all the leaves off the trees in one fell swoop. Radiation made sure they never came back."

"They will come back," Paul said. "Believe that."

"Were it so easy."

Paul leaned against the low stone wall of the hotel's roof. "I see you're as cheery and optimistic as ever," he said. "I didn't know you were still in the city. Erich and I spent six months looking for you."

"I'm sorry," Hans said. "When I left, it was to get away from everything and everyone associated with it. I found a cabin on the Muggelsee and have spent the last year there, enjoying the peace and quiet."

Paul cast a glance back at the door. "Doesn't seem like you've been doing a great job of staying out of trouble, buddy," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is. Trouble finds me."

Paul's smile faded. "Plenty of trouble to go around, that's for sure... Still, never expected to run into you here, working with the Alliance. You were pretty out of it when you came back from the Reichstag, what with everything that had happened. After a week or so I thought you were dead, honestly. Shot yourself somewhere. Erich knew better; knew you wouldn't give up like that."

"What does he know about my mental state?" Hans asked. "Or anyone else's, for that matter? Guy's a psycho."

"He's more perceptive than you might think, being in that armored suit all day long. And, more importantly, he knows you better than he lets on. The two of you are more alike than you might think; you know how to keep going, how to stay in the fight. Perseverance like that is more valuable than training or weapons."

Hans gave him a look. "Here, come closer to the light. I think you're an imposter who replaced Paul."

Paul laughed. "Let's just say I've done a little growing up over the past year. Still like to snag everything that isn't nailed down, though. That hasn't changed."

"Some things never do."

"Like you, if your presence here is anything to go by," Paul said. "And really, I am glad you're here. And still alive, for that matter. After Hilda's death and what happened with Queen Ilse, I don't blame you for walking away. Really, I don't. Just would've liked a heads-up first, you know?"

Hans sighed. "I know, and like I said, I wanted to get away from it all. I was succeeding, until Colonel Hoffmann's Panzertroopers decided to investigate the nearby gunfire after I saved a woman from a pack of Rotters. And then they saved us both from a curious Rover."

"Trouble does find you!"

"After that it was one thing after another, which led to me standing here... What about you, though? Why are you here, Paul?"

"Saving Germany, of course," he said with a grin. "No, but really, I'm here to help the Alliance finish what the Final Order started. That means putting in the work, no matter how much I want to just sit back and run the U-Bahn stations."

"How are they? The stations," Hans asked.

"Good," Paul said. "I've got Erich and his Panzertroopers holding down Pariser Platz in my absence, and the other stations are all doing well. Councilor Eisler at Potsdamer Platz still asks about you every time he visits, wondering if I've found you. He says he's got problems that only you can solve. Between us I think he wants to sleep with you, honestly."

Hans laughed, shocked into it. "Nice to know your imagination is still working, buddy."

"Age can't take everything from me," Paul said. "Still... Was this a one-and-done thing for you, or are you staying on full-time? With the Alliance, I mean."

"I don't know... I'm not ready to go back to the stations. Not yet, at least. I'm glad to hear Erich is still alive and hasn't accidentally killed himself with that nuclear catapult he found."

"Give him time."

"As for staying on with the Alliance and all that... I am, for now. I'm homeless right now anyway. Long story. But when I was at Hoffmann's camp... There was a girl there. Peppy, earnest, feisty. I guess I'm doing this for her."

Paul's eyebrows danced. "Getting your mojo back on?"

"She's 12, you degenerate."

"Hey, if that's what you're into then I don't think we can be friends anymore," Paul said mock seriously.

"One more word and we'll find out how well you can fly."

Paul smiled but it quickly faded. "A kid, huh? I bet I can tell what you're thinking. That you owe it to her and the rest of her generation to try again. That giving up means leaving all this shit for her to clean up. That it's your responsibility to fix it for her."

"Am I wrong?"

"No, but you can't do it alone. That's why you're here. You're a freelancer, same as me. Have been all your life. You could walk away any time. You're here because you want to be, despite your reservations. You're here because you want to make Germany a better place."

"Everyone wants that," Hans said. "They just disagree on how to do it."

"Well if the NDM get their way all of Europe will go back to the era of kings and queens and Kaisers and shit. I don't want that. That's why I joined the Final Order. It's why I agreed to help the Alliance when they came knocking. I'm of a mind with you; we owe it to the next generation to fix the mess the last one caused. Being stuck in the middle sucks, I know. Having your youth taken from you, then working to create a world you'll never enjoy, but I couldn't live with myself if I gave up and became a selfish degenerate, preying on traveling merchants and becoming a cannibal warlord."

"Hey, I'm not a cannibal warlord," Hans said.

Paul smiled. "If you'd have lived another year in that cabin then who knows what would've happened."

"I guess you're right, though... I do feel like I owe it to the next generation to at least try again. I just don't want to fail again."

"You've got me with you now! What could go wrong?"

Hans held up his finger. "I guess you're not old enough to know not to ask that question."

"It's all worked out in the past," Paul said with a shrug. "Well, what I mean is that we survived. But hey, you are right. We owe it to them to try again, and if we fail to keep trying. We don't have many other options."

"No," Hans said with a sigh. "No we do not... Anyway, I have to get back to Die Banke and see what Hoffmann wants me to do next. Are you coming with me?"

Paul's smile returned. "Are you kidding? Of course! Anything to stir up more trouble with my old friend, since I missed out on the last romp."

"Still haven't forgiven me for that one, have you?" Hans asked.

"You know I would've dropped everything to help you get revenge for Hilda's death. I'd have gone through all of Germany to do it."

"I know," Hans said. "It's OK; I still haven't forgiven myself."

The two of them went back into the hotel and down to the top floor. After telling their squads they were leaving they restocked using the stores of ammo and supplies the NDM had stashed in the hotel before heading back down to the street. Hans followed Paul to an alley a few blocks away, where a Kettenkrad was parked. It was painted a grayish-tan color, the number '066' on the left side. Paul climbed onto the driver's seat and started the vehicle up, gesturing for Hans to get on the back.

"Nice find," Hans said. "Where did you get it?"

"Abandoned factory," Paul said. "It was the weirdest thing. It was outside the factory, on an upper level, parked next to a cardboard box. There were two skeletons inside the box, both girls. No idea what they were doing up there, but I guess they starved or froze to death."

"I see," Hans said. "Too bad things didn't work out for them."

"Yeah," Paul said as they got moving. "Too bad."

The two of them returned to Die Banke together, parking outside the marina's gate and walking into the complex. Hans went straight to Hoffmann's office with Paul in tow, not surprised in the least to see the old man was still awake. He looked up as Hans and Paul entered the office and set down his coffee.

"Herr Eckhart and Herr March! A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. I knew you'd stay onboard once you learned Herr March was working with us."

"You knew he'd be at the hotel?" Hans asked.

"I didn't handle the second team. That was General Harper's responsibility. I knew Herr March was onboard, however. I implied as much when I told you I visited Pariser Platz last year. Call it serendipity."

"Sounds more like duplicity to me," Hans said. "But I doubt I'd get a straight answer even if you were lying."

"Don't mind him," Paul said, "he's always like this."

Hoffmann grunted. "Yeah, I got that impression. Let's talk facts. Taking hotel Kopenick was an important step, but it's just the first in a long trail to victory. I've been in contact with the higher-ups and operations against the NDM are about to pick up in a big way. We're talking major battles here, the kind that'll have names and still be talked about twenty years from now. I've got two missions for you both, if you're up for them."

"Give me the details," Hans said. Hoffmann sifted through his papers for a moment and grabbed two, along with a map of Berlin. A town to the south, Muggelheim, was circled, as was a street in the heart of Berlin itself, Wuhlischstrasse. Hans and Paul looked at the map together, studying it.

"The first is this town, Muggelheim. It's abandoned completely, used only as a kind of waystation for traveling merchants. Last week one of our regulars failed to arrive. Their route usually takes them through the town, so a team of Fieldmen was dispatched to investigate. They never returned. The town has a main street, Muggelheimer Damm, with a U-Bahn station and the Muggelheim Gasthaus at the center. Start there, find out what's wrong, and fix it."

Hans nodded. "And the other job?"

"Wuhlischstrasse is home to a pre-war radio station, one of Berlin's oldest. The NDM are using it to broadcast their propaganda to any working radio in Berlin. The Alliance wants that station. I'll give you both $250 for the two missions. Muggelheim is closest, so I recommend starting there. When you're done with both jobs head to Tempelhofer Feld and report there. Someone will dispatch a courier here to inform me of your success. If you fail to report then I'll assume you're both dead and send the Panzertroopers in to take care of both problems."

Hans looked at the map for a minute. Muggelheim was a half-hour's drive with the Kettenkrad, they'd have that done in a day. Wuhlischstrasse was much further away, just seven miles from the Brandenburg Gate. It'd take them a few days to get there, accounting for the state of the roads and any trouble they might run into on the way there.

"$250 isn't enough. Make it $350," Hans said.

"Fine," Hoffmann said. "Just get it done. If you need to stay here for the night then do it. It's late anyway, almost two in the morning. Rest up, stock up, and then get to Muggelheim and find out just what on Earth is going on over there."