Wüstenrose

Kriegsheld.

Thea moved the word around her mouth, opening her lips wide and closing them again as she attempted to make it sound attractive. Valiant. Brave. Words that she wouldn’t have used to describe the death of a man that bled out in some god-forsaken alleyway in the name of national security, but words that the government would use in Dreher’s public obituary, words they would spit from their mouths as they used his death as an excuse to punish the rebel forces.

Unnötig. That’s what she’d call it. A complete waste of life.

Thea shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, training her eyes firmly on the delicate china cup she held within her hands. It was almost as fragile-looking as the woman sat on the chair opposite. Mrs Dreher had not yet cried. She hadn’t shed a tear when Thea had told her of her husband’s death, hadn’t batted an eyelid when Thea rolled off the usual cacophony of government-approved adjectives: hero, strong, a credit to the empire. She had simply stared ahead, fixing her lips into a thin line as she listened to Thea list off his achievements before the room had lapsed into silence; a stunned quiet on Thea’s part and a wordless outpouring of grief by what seemed like a woman made entirely of steel.

“You were with him when he died.”

Statement, not questioning. Thea nodded in response, wringing her hands a little. She had tidied up before she had left to announce Dreher’s death to his family, but there were still the remains of tiny rivulets of blood stuck under her nails. She had scrubbed and scrubbed, but they just wouldn’t budge.

Thea continued to look at her hands as she verbalised her response. “I was.”

“Was he in pain?”

Thea considered being truthful for a moment — after all, truth was one of the attributes that every good Nazi should exhibit, according to the millions of pieces of propaganda they spewed out each year — but decided against it. Thea had no idea of the mental state that the woman sat in front of her was, and she certainly didn’t want to make it worse.

“No. He didn’t feel anything.”

No response. Thea looked up, taking in the enigma that was Eva Dreher. She was dressed from head-to-foot in dark colours — navy dress, opaque stockings, black flat shoes — and the colour seemed to have been erased permenantly from her face. Thea’s eyes migrated from the woman’s face to her stomach. Six, perhaps seven months pregnant. Dreher hadn’t even mentioned it.

“It’s a boy.” Eva placed a hand over her stomach protectively. “Erich was beside himself with excitement. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

“Mrs Dreher, if-”

“Please, Eva.”

“Eva. If there’s anything we can do — anything I can do — then please, let us know. Your husband is — was — a great asset to our organisation. The least we can do to thank him for his service is ensure you and your son are taken care of.”

Eva stood. Thea followed suit, trying to read the expression on Eva’s face. Her expression was resolute, almost stony. She was almost impossible to read, and even if she were completely cut up inside, Thea couldn’t tell. She had forced a small smile onto her face, and as she spoke, Thea marvelled at how straight she kept her voice. Even still, a sense of bitterness seemed to creep in as she spoke.

“That won’t be necessary, Gruppenführer. I don’t wish to be rude, but I wouldn’t like to be continually reminded of the administration that Erich died for, especially when it seems as if he died for no reason. If there’s nothing else?”

Eva swept a hand loosely in the direction of the hallway. Thea nodded listlessly. The conversation was over, as was Thea’s visit to the Dreher household. Eva had her chin held defiantly in the air as she began to show Thea out, and Thea didn’t dare speak. In all truth, she was supposed to report suspicious behaviour and antiestablishment conversation to her superiors, but she couldn’t bring herself to even consider turning Eva Dreher over to the authorities. Not when she had already lost so much.

“Mrs Dreher?”

Eva glared at Thea as she stepped over the threshold. Winter was rapidly arriving, and the outskirts of the city were dusted pastel with frost. Pulling her jacket further around her chest, Thea turned to the house one last time and looked at the tiny figure framed in the doorway.



“Pardon my ignorance — Eva. I’m sorry. Truly. We didn’t always get along, but Dreher — sorry, Erich — wasn’t a bad man, and he was more loyal than most men. You should be proud of him.”

As Thea turned to walk towards the car waiting for her at the end of the drive, she could have sworn she heard Eva choke back a sob.



“Gruppenführer Sommer?”

“Ja, das bin ich.”

Thea hated airports. In fact, she could think of a million different places that would rank higher on her ‘places to be’ list, a list that placed concentration camps and waterless deserts before airport terminals. There were just too many people, and too many chances for people to evade capture were something to happen. There had been multiple incidents between Nazi officers and rebel agents using airport terminals as backdrops, and considering the events of the past few days Thea had no doubt that she was a sitting duck.

God, she was paranoid.

Two men in Gestapo uniform had come to greet her. Thea was thankful for their presence, even if only for the sense of security that they gave her. If there was one thing that Thea had faith in, it was the lack of violence and distrust within the Partei itself. Outside forces could try and stir politics as much as they liked; they wouldn’t get anywhere. There had been no reported incidents of insiders defecting, nor did Thea believe there would be. Even if anybody considered it, they wouldn’t dare bother to carry out any acts of treason. The punishments were far too severe.

Forcing a bright smile upon her face, Thea gave the men a brief nod. “Gentlemen.”

“We are to deliver you to Obergruppenführer Bretz at the earliest opportunity.” One of the men had placed his hand in the small of Thea’s back, and she had to stop herself from attempting to squirrel out of his grip. “However, we do have to pick up a few others. Do you mind waiting? They should be here shortly.”

Thea nodded curtly, settling herself into one of the cold metal chairs. Another reason Thea disliked airports — they were dank and depressing, and the lack of luxury made Thea cringe. The German government had put all of their money into developing stronger, faster passenger planes without thinking about those left waiting in the terminals. It was typical Nazi ideology — show all of your enemies that you’re fast in the air to scare them off at the expense of civilians.

“Who are we waiting on?” she asked. Both men had remained standing, partially shielding her from view of the passenger entrance to the terminal. It was at that moment that Thea realised she wasn’t just being paranoid — the whole country was on edge. When she had left Frankfurt, there had been Gestapo scouring the streets around the airport, and she had no doubt that the security in Berlin would also have been doubled.

“Delegates from Hanover and Leipzig,” the man replied, voice almost entirely emotionless. “Your Einsatzgruppe consists of some of the top agents and officials from all over the country. The others are already settled at the Hauptgebäude. We await the presence of only three others.”

“And what are their names?” Thea asked. One of the men laughed, a short, sharp bark.

“We cannot tell you that for now, Gruppenführer. You will find out in due course.”

Thea groaned inwardly, sinking a little further into the cold metal seat. She was done with secrecy. They had tried secrecy, and it had ended with one of her own subordinates in a coffin. Still, she didn’t push her luck. The Gestapo were not under her control, and even if they were she doubted that the men would give anything up. They were trained to be ruthless and inconspicuous. There would be little she could do to harm them or force them to talk, and even if she did, another would simply take their place and she would be thrown down the ranks if she were lucky.

The second man, a tall, stocky type, seemed to have mistook her frustrated movements as impatience. He smiled in her direction, nodding towards the departure boards. They had been a source of fascination for Thea — Frankfurt did not have automated boards such as the ones that Berlin had.

“Don’t worry, Gruppenführer. We will not wait long. They should be here within ten minutes.”

Great, Thea thought as she acknowledged his response with another sharp nod. Another ten minutes in this hellhole. Just what I need.