Until the Night Shatters

By Heather Akena

"What are you waiting for, I said kill her!" he screamed as loud as he could. It sounded like a knife in Amelia's ears, and she tried to look over at him, but he was already gone. Gone to take everything else from her. He had been right . . . she should have killed him while he wasn't a threat, but it was that very fact that made her unable to kill him in the first place.

SS-Oberschtze Markus Lubrich warned me this would happen. He said I didn't know when to quit, but the truth is, I just don't know how. I've been living a lie for years, a traitor in the midst of a thousand nationalists. But until the the iron hand that controls our destiny is no longer a threat, I can never stop searching for a way to make sure we survive. But when it's over and the Reich has fallen, we will finally be able to live without fear of what is lurking in the shadows. Victorious over our enemies. Over our past. Over our future.

Forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 25, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456801519

Heather Akena

Heather Akena graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in Criminal Justice. She has been a published writer since the age of 11, being inducted into Who's Who for various achievements throughout the way. An avid language and history lover, she moved to Germany in 2006 to start work as a translator and research certain facts pertaining to this novel. In addition to English, she also speaks German and Russian, and currently resides in Braunschweig, Germany.

Book preview

Prologue

HER LIPS QUIVERED against the biting cold as she opened her eyes. She had no idea how long she’d been out, and the gray, nearly barren room didn’t offer her any clues. She rolled over out of the makeshift bed to sit up, and her head spun furiously as she struggled to remember what had happened before now. Paul had shot her but had taken her to a hospital to try to save her. Her dad had been there. Sergei.

Dad? She called weakly. Paul?

Her own voice echoed back at her in the dimly lit room, the lone response to her increasingly frantic pleas.

Sergei?!

Her heart sank down into her stomach. Her dad was supposed to come and get her, but where was he now? The minutes slowly ticked down, and she eventually realized that she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Anybody?! she screamed as loud as she could.

Silence.

Chapter 1

AMELIA HAD BETRAYED him. She had betrayed all of them. At least, that’s what Hitler had said. Paul still had his doubts about her, still wanted to believe that she would never turn her back on what she’d been taught, but he was out of time to decide one way or the other. The men walking up the stairs behind him were on opposing sides, but not under his command. No, they thought only what he told them to, incapable anymore of simple luxuries like free thought. A forgotten emotion screamed somewhere inside him that such things were inhuman, unjust. But just like all the other times, he ignored the broken remnants of his conscience and continued doing his job without question. Hitler had told him to kill Amelia for her treachery, but the closer he got to Richard’s apartment, the more he wondered if he would really be able to go through with it. He knew Amelia better than he knew himself, and Hitler had to be mistaken somehow. She would never break her allegiance with a country that she loved so much, the country that she had so often abandoned him for in the past. Hitler had said that there would be three people in the place where Paul was now headed: Amelia, Sergei, and Nikolai. His orders were to shoot both Nikolai and Sergei on sight—and he would—but what would he do if he saw Amelia?

She won’t be there, he said under his breath as his foot touched the landing beside the door. She can’t be there.

He held up three fingers at the soldier behind him to signal ‘on three’. They nodded in agreement, and he bent his fingers back inward before holding them out one at a time, counting slowly, purposefully.

CRACK!

The door bowed inwards as he kicked it open full force, and his men, both Soviet and Nazi, filled in behind him. Sergei was standing directly in front of him with a shocked expression, and a slight smile crossed Paul’s face at the realization of how easy it was going to be. It would be over in a matter of seconds, and they had never seen him coming. He raised his gun, and Sergei stared at him unmoving, powerless to fight back against the sudden fear that consumed him.

No!

The sound had come from his right, catching him off guard, and he turned towards it, blindly firing at an oncoming enemy that he had never expected to see. The other men behind him pulled their weapons, but he held up his hand to stop them. Sergei ran to the person he had shot and grabbed her, and for what seemed like an eternity, no one moved. Paul finally processed who the woman was and let his gun drop to the floor while tears stung at his eyes, threatening to run down his face with emotion he could barely contain. Hitler had been right all along, she was here. She had always been here.

She looked down at the red stain growing wider on her white shirt and back up at him. The bullet was lodged in her abdomen, and she began to shake as she whimpered the last word she would ever say:

Paul.

She collapsed in Sergei’s arms, and Paul felt like any second now he would break with her. He had wanted Sergei but had shot her instead, and even though he had still had his doubts about her, he had never wanted it to end like this. Not like this.

What have you done?! Sergei screamed.

She was dying, and he didn’t need a doctor to know that. Her breathing grew increasingly erratic as Sergei began to lose his grip on her and sank down to the floor with her.

No, no, no, no, no! Sergei wailed, rigorously shaking her to try to force her to regain consciousness.

But she never did, and tears streamed down Sergei’s face as he looked up at him. Paul would never admit it, but he knew all too well the look of a man who had just lost the woman he loved, and though he couldn’t be sure how Amelia had felt about Sergei, how Sergei felt about Amelia was written all over his face.

You killed her!

There was still the chance that it was a one-sided affection, that Amelia was still loyal to the Reich, and Paul got down on his knees in front of her and took her hand to feel for a pulse.

She’s still alive, he realized several precious seconds later. Her pulse is weak, but it’s still there.

Sergei had ceased paying attention to him and began rocking her back and forth, sobbing pitifully into her hair.

Listen to me! Paul yelled to snap him out of it. She’s still alive, but not for long. Give her to me, I can save her!

I think you’ve done enough! he cried, pulling her back to him.

"If you don’t give her to me now she will die! You have no other choice!"

It was the last thing Sergei wanted to do, but Paul was right: he had no other choice. He slowly released his grip on her and let Paul take her into his arms. The man who had haunted Amelia’s dreams—her nightmares—her entire life left the room with her as quickly as he had come, leaving Sergei on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably and drowning in his despair.

PAUL SLOWLY OPENED his eyes as the nightmare contented itself to let go of him, releasing him out of his dream state. It had haunted him every day since it’d happened, and he wondered if the day would ever come that he would be able to let go of it. No one knew where Amelia was now, or if she was even still alive in the first place, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more he did. And the more he did, the more his mind forced him to relive that day over and over again, refusing to be satisfied with the pain it had already caused him.

He turned to focus on the clock beside him and sighed heavily against the impending conversation he was about to have within the next hour. Hitler had put him in charge of finding Amelia and wanted him to hand in an update, but he had no update to give. She had vanished along with Sergei, someone whose name stirred up such deep pangs of bitterness that he angrily swiped the clock off the bedside table at the thought of him. The cord came out of the wall as it clattered to the floor, taking various pens and pieces of paper with it, but he felt no need to pick them up as he got dressed, knowing that this meeting was probably going to end badly, just like all the others.

*     *     *

DO YOU THINK you’ll ever find her?

The question had come from Heinrich Himmler, but Hitler felt no need to turn around from the window he was facing.

I think it’s safe to say, Heinrich, that Amelia Reichert might actually be dead.

And are we happy about that, Sir?

He put his tongue against his left canine tooth and sucked it back in. I’m not sure, to be honest.

Himmler finally got up the nerve to take a timid step forward. You know, Federov still believes she’s a traitor.

That he does, he said indifferently as he continued looking out the window. That he does.

And? Do you trust his judgment?

Hitler tore his gaze away from the window to turn around and face Himmler. "Normally, I would say No given how useful Amelia has been to me in the past, but considering the fact that Nikolai is supposed to have no emotions besides the ones I tell him to have, I really don’t have a choice in the matter, now, do I?"

I would advise you not to do so unconditionally, though, Himmler said respectfully.

He raised an eyebrow. Why? Is there something that I should know?

"Not particularly. But as you know, the Roh Forschung project has worn off on Nikolai before, which makes me somewhat wary of trusting him completely."

He appeared to be thinking it over, then nodded once he had reached his decision. You’re right, Heinrich. I guess I’ve just gotten soft in my old age.

Hitler smirked once the sentence had left his mouth, and Himmler laughed at his bad joke.

Have someone keep track of Federov, will you, just to make sure.

Should I add him to the Night Shatter list?

He crossed his right arm over his abdomen and rested his left arm against it, tapping his index finger against his cheek as he thought. No, not just yet. We want to keep this as low key as possible so he doesn’t get word of it. There’s no point in spooking him for no reason.

The Sky Burn list had been unwittingly finished by Amelia, Nikolai, and Sergei after they had killed anyone who was against Hitler. Nikolai had used Sergei to say that the list was from Stalin and that they should assassinate anyone on it because they were important to Hitler. The truth was, however, that the list contained only those officers that hadn’t passed their Watch Orders with several other genuinely loyal employees thrown in the mix to keep Amelia off their trail. Nikolai had been certain that Amelia was helping get rid of these men based on her belief that they were important to Hitler, and though Hitler had actually had his doubts, he had still ordered her execution, nonetheless. Upon finding out that she had taken RF-783, he had set plans in motion to find out if his prized assassin was now completely and utterly under his control, but Paul had thrown a wrench in the whole situation by shooting Amelia a day ahead of schedule. In her absence, a new list had been put in place to get rid of any new traitors standing in the way of his quest for complete and total world domination. It was codenamed Night Shatter, and though it was just being commissioned, the preliminary reports that were coming back were more than disturbing.

Come to think of it, Reichert’s been acting strange as well, Hitler mused as he rubbed his short mustache.

You mean Amelia?

No, not Amelia. Her husband, you idiot!

Himmler made a face and shrugged his shoulders to say it was an easy mistake; after all, they did share the same last name.

Sign another Watch Order on him, Hitler commanded without acknowledging his previous gesture. And do it pronto. He’s too high up now for me to let him stay in his privileged position any longer than I have to.

Very good, Sir, Himmler responded, following it with a quick salute.

And Himmler, Hitler called out when he turned to leave. Do be discreet about this, won’t you?

He nodded to say that he would and headed out of the room while Hitler turned back to the window. No one was above death in his Third Reich, and though these three people would be a loss, he would find someone even better to take their place. The only problem was: he hadn’t yet met anyone better than either Amelia or Nikolai. Paul was important, too, but he was also a normal man, and normal men were a dime a dozen around here. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he wished they would find Amelia alive… and under his complete control. There was no way to know for sure until Paul came in to the office to turn in his official report, but the fact that he hadn’t already said he’d found her was disconcerting. The main reason Hitler wanted him to find her wasn’t so much that he needed her, it was that he wanted to make sure she hadn’t secretly switched sides, lending her carefully honed talents to the enemy. There would be no more chances, and if she was so much as thinking about defecting, he would torture her until she begged for mercy, then kill her before anyone could try to save her.

He checked his watch again and frowned at the time ticking back at him. Nikolai was supposed to have called him with an update on Sergei, but so far, he still hadn’t done it, and Hitler was beginning to wonder if Himmler might have been right about him all along.

*     *     *

THE ROOM WAS all too familiar to Amelia, its forsaken grayness warning her of an omen she had forgotten long ago. The memories of this place slowly began to envelop her, and she finally remembered where she had seen it all before.

Yes, that was it, she had dreamed it. But in the dream, her father had always come to get her. He had told her that she had survived, and that Sergei—

Dad?! she tried again while she leaned against the heavy, metal door that stood in between her and freedom, not wanting to think about the ‘what if’s any more than she had to.

But he wasn’t there, and as the minutes continued to tick down in silence, she began to wonder if he ever would be. He had always been there before, but if recent events were any indication, things could always change without warning. Though she wasn’t sure how long she’d been in there or even where she was, she knew that the sooner she got out of there, the better, and pulled on the cold, metal door as hard as she could. It was locked from the outside, and she screamed in frustration when it refused to give way, leaving her trapped inside her abysmal, gray prison. Beads of sweat slowly slid down the door as she leaned against it, panting in exhaustion. As far as she knew, Sergei hadn’t been shot, but she hadn’t exactly stuck around to see what had happened afterwards. And where was their son?

The reminder of what Paul had done with him in the dream gave her renewed energy, and she braced her foot against the wall, pulling on the door handle with everything she had in her. The lock groaned in agony before succumbing to her strength, and the door swung open with a loud clang while the force of it sent her sprawling back across the room and onto the floor.

She slowly stood to her feet, staring in disbelief at her freedom that was disguised as a gray, desolate hallway. She didn’t know what answers the world out there held for her, and she wondered if maybe she was better off not knowing. There were so many questions she both needed and was afraid of the answer to: how long had she been down there? Where was her father? Did Hitler know yet that she’d betrayed him? What about Paul, had he found out the truth? Sergei…

She eventually decided that not knowing was far worse than the alternative and stepped through the doorway into the unknown, terrified of the possibilities awaiting her. The steady drip drip drip of water somewhere nearby was the only thing that she could hear, and she pressed her back against the wall in a feeble attempt to be rid of the sound that was unnerving her more and more every second.

I think she’s down this way.

The voice made her blood run cold, and she quickly looked around for a place to hide before coming to the obvious realization that there wasn’t one. She was almost certain that the way she was headed was the way out, but if they were coming from that direction, it was the last place she wanted to go. They rounded the corner just as she had turned to run in the opposite direction.

Hey! called the one in front. Hang on, we just wanna talk to you!

She was sure that, whatever they wanted, they didn’t just want to talk to her and broke out into a run back the way she had come. They chased her down the hallway, and she mentally cursed herself for ever taking RF-783. It had never stopped anything, only changed everything so that it had probably happened anyway.

She’d had a good head start, but her energy kept coming and going in waves, and her strength left her within a matter of minutes. The one that had spoken to her closed the distance gap in record time and tackled her to the floor.

Let me go! she howled, wildly punching at him.

He sat on top of her and grabbed her hands, and it only infuriated her that much more that, for the first time in years, she was completely and utterly incapable of defending herself.

We just wanna talk to you, he repeated, this time much softer than before.

The look in his eyes said he was trying to decide whether or not to pity her, and she stopped fighting him to return his gaze, wondering what he was going to do with her. He was dressed in an SS uniform, but she couldn’t place him. Maybe he was new, or maybe he wasn’t really SS at all. Maybe Hitler, Paul, or even Nikolai had sent him there to get rid of her.

What do you want? she asked in Russian.

The man’s facial expression contorted into one of bewilderment, and he looked at her as if she’d lost it. What?

He sounded German, but the last thing it did was comfort her, and she tried another language. I said what do you want?

He looked back at the others for direction, but they merely shrugged.

"You are German, right?" he asked, confused by her borage of various languages.

She ultimately concluded that he must really be SS and sighed, managing only to respond with Ja before resigning herself to whatever fate awaited her.

He looked around her age and seemed to be glad to have found her, though what that meant, she really couldn’t say. He got up off of her and stood to his feet, but she remained on the ground where she was.

So, what do you want? she asked again, this time in German.

Your dad said we should check up on you.

She immediately perked up at the sentence. My dad? Where is he?

The man shook his head. I don’t know, actually. The last time I saw him was a few days ago, but he was acting really erratic—jumping at shadows, that kind of thing—and he said that if I didn’t hear from him for more than two days, I should come and check on you to make sure you were okay.

She narrowed her eyes at him and flipped to a standing position. The four men behind him backed up in surprise while the one talking to her appeared unfazed by her skills.

Yeah, right, she snarled. "If you really knew my father, you would know that he would never trust anyone to come and check up on me."

She had spat the last words like they had left a bad taste in her mouth, but if he knew she was trying to intimidate him, he didn’t give her the pleasure of knowing it.

I’m just following orders, Ma’am.

Why? she asked curtly, perturbed by the fact that he was neither impressed with nor felt threatened by her. Who are you and what’s your rank?

He held out his hand as if he actually expected her to shake it. SS-Oberschütze Markus Lubrich, at your service.

She raised an eyebrow. Oberschütze? Are you Waffen-SS?

Another headshake. No, Ma’am, not anymore. I’m with the Leibstandarte now.

Her placid expression turned into one of increasing distrust. Then, that means you’re a—

Bodyguard, he finished for her. Yes, Ma’am.

She firmly crossed her arms over her chest. Bodyguard for whom? And stop calling me ‘Ma’am’, you’re making me feel old.

For your father, M— he stopped himself before calling her Ma’am again.

Breaking protocol made him feel uncomfortable, and every bit of it showed on his face, but she had bigger problems right now.

Ha! she shrieked while intently pointing her finger in his face. As long as I’ve been working for the SS—which is a long time—I’ve never seen you. Not once. And I’ve most certainly never seen you around my father.

He appeared unmoved by her outburst. I was just assigned to the position a couple of months ago. Your dad told me that you were recovering here, and that you were vital to research—

She laughed and shook her head before holding up her hand to stop him. My father doesn’t trust people so easily, Mr. Lubrich. And I highly doubt that he would’ve told you anything about me, much less some insane story about research.

Well, it’s true, he argued. I was first assigned to be his bodyguard while he was working in the lab. But to be honest, I thought he was lying about you or, at the very least, had made you up. He’s become prone to rambling on for hours a time without making any sense, and it’s getting increasingly worse.

The frown playing at her lips melted into a scowl. Well, frankly, I’ve seen my father very frequently over the last couple of months, and as I seem to remember mentioning, I’ve never seen you around him.

He looked puzzled. Really? He gave me the impression you hadn’t seen much of anything since last October.

She took a step back to distance herself from the sentence and forced down the emotions collecting into a knot in her throat. What’s today?

January 30th.

She felt weak and started to sway. He reached out for her, but she shrugged him off and tried to find the strength to keep asking the questions she was increasingly sure she didn’t want to know the answer to.

I see. And you’ve been working for him since…

November 5th.

She looked away, unable to fully grasp his answer. If it were true, then that meant there were three months of her life which were missing entirely, and she had absolutely no idea what had happened during them. If Sergei was still alive, shouldn’t he have come for her by now? And where was her father?

Wait a minute, she started as she thought about her father and what Markus had said about him. If you were his bodyguard, then why don’t you know where he is now?

Markus sighed as if he got asked that question a thousand times a day and were tired of it. Someone else was assigned to protect him when he went to Bochum to transfer samples and reports to someone. He didn’t say who, and they wouldn’t tell me because they said it was classified. But before he left, he said that if I didn’t hear from him for more than two days after he was supposed to come back on January 27th, I should come and check on you. I haven’t heard from him in three, so here I am.

She looked into his eyes and needed to believe him. He looked kind, like he hadn’t yet been hardened by war and only wanted to help. Maybe she was being naïve, but when she knew so little, she had to believe in something.

How old are you, Markus?

Twenty-seven, Ma’am… he stopped and immediately corrected course. I mean… twenty-seven. Just twenty-seven.

She smiled sadly but asked no further questions as she let him lead her to a car that was waiting by the front entrance to the bunker.

So what now? she asked, turning to look at him once she was standing beside the car’s sleek, black door that shielded the back seat.

He stopped with his hand on the door handle, bothered by her question in a way he couldn’t even begin to explain. You know… I don’t really know. The only instructions your father gave me were to check on you, not what I should do if you were awake.

Well, then, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together, she offered.

Yeah, he agreed as he opened the car door for her. I guess we will.

Chapter 2

WHERE’S AMELIA, RICHARD?

I’ve already told you, Nikolai, I’m not telling you where she is until she wakes up.

His upper lip curled into a sneer. You know the Führer has demanded that she be tested for susceptibility following that little incident with RF-783.

Richard’s expression said he couldn’t be threatened into compliance this time. And like I’ve told you before, I’ll test her when she wakes up, but she’s still in a coma right now.

Maybe so, but that doesn’t explain why you can’t tell me where she is.

Because you hate her, Richard pointed out. Isn’t that reason enough?

The look in his eyes softened into something lost between condescension and complacence. Touché.

"Plus—whether it’s true or not—Hitler thinks she’s switched sides, and I don’t want you going after her until she’s able to defend herself."

"Has she switched sides?"

Richard defiantly locked eyes with him. Absolutely not. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you that, Nikolai. She was in love with Sergei, yes, but her love for Germany always came first.

He scoffed at the excuse. Richard, do you have any idea how much intelligence she’s turned over to the Soviets since 1941? It’s staggering.

She had a cover to keep, Richard argued. And frankly, I think she did it flawlessly. She felt from the beginning like you were still loyal to the Fatherland, but she couldn’t just ask you straight out what was going on. She had to be tactful about it, and if she had to bring you legitimate intelligence to make you trust her, then so be it.

He didn’t look convinced. Hitler was pretty upset with her for doing that.

Well, I don’t see why, Richard huffed. She knew you were on our side, so she brought you information that she knew you wouldn’t use to the Soviet Union’s benefit. I think that’s a win-win situation, don’t you?

Nikolai hadn’t thought about it like that, and the look on his face confirmed it. But before Richard could bask in his moment of triumph, Nikolai hit him with another accusation.

You know that if RF-783 hasn’t done its job, Hitler has ordered her execution.

His shoulders sagged in defeat, and he looked away to hide the thousands of emotions written inside his eyes. I know.

And where do you stand with the mass production of 783? The deadline’s tomorrow, you know.

Look, Hitler’s going to have to give me more time, he irritatedly replied as he began to pace. It’s just not ready yet.

Richard, you said you were almost finished with this stuff before Amelia got shot, Nikolai reminded him like he had somehow forgotten. That was nearly three months ago!

I know, I know, he conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. "But it’s—well—it’s just not stable enough in large quantities. If Hitler wants it right now, I’ll have to make thousands of small vial-sized doses, and even that wouldn’t be ready by tomorrow. He’ll just have to understand that things like this take time."

Nikolai shook his head, unable to share in his sentiments. The Führer’s been having some misgivings about you lately, Richard, and I’m beginning to wonder if I need to confirm to him that they might be true.

Another emotion flickered to life inside Richard’s eyes before going out again, and Nikolai immediately wished that he had just kept his mouth shut. Though his original intention had been to threaten Richard into fulfilling Hitler’s orders, the look Richard had given him was one of a terrified animal about to bolt full speed in the other direction. He had scared Richard, all right, but not in the way he had intended.

I’ll try to buy you some more time, Nikolai vowed with a forced calmness in his voice. Just hurry it up, all right? You know that Hitler is less than understanding about such things these days, and since we’re working together now, I’d rather not also be on the receiving end of whatever it is he does to punish you.

Don’t worry, Richard assured him through clenched teeth. I’ll get it done.

Make sure you do, Nikolai warned, because you’re on thin ice, Richard, and I don’t think I need to remind you that people have disappeared around here over less. And if anything happens to you, who would take care of Amelia? She would die right along with you.

Yeah, he said dejectedly as he looked away. She would.

NIKOLAI UNCOMFORTABLY SHIFTED his weight in the chair at the memory of how that situation had ended. Though Richard had always followed Hitler’s orders in the past, that had slowly been changing, and Nikolai was more than capable of realizing when someone was stalling. Richard never planned to finish RF-783 for mass production, that much was clear, and Nikolai had eventually had to tell Hitler that one of his oldest friends was preparing to betray him. The result was that Hitler had called Richard back early from Bochum, unannounced and unprotected from what Nikolai was charged with doing to him.

Come on, Sergei, he commanded against his thoughts. Wake up.

The telephone rang loudly from beside him, and he agitatedly snatched it off the hook before putting it up to his ear. Federov.

Click.

The dial tone humming back at him told him that the person on the other end had already hung up, and he slammed the receiver back down on the hook. For almost a month, they had been receiving mysterious calls where the person on the other end would disconnect the call whenever he answered. It was never really that often—perhaps twice a week at most—but it was the curiosity over just who was calling him that kept him from simply changing their number. There was no one they had to be afraid of anymore, no one who could be watching them… so who else could it be?

*     *     *

THE CAR BOUNCED angrily down the road as the driver in the front seat drove like he had just gotten his license and didn’t know what to do with it yet. Markus had suggested heading towards her father’s office to see if anyone had heard from him, and Amelia had reluctantly agreed, though she had insisted on checking his office outside the Chancellery first. She had said nothing else for nearly an hour, and though she didn’t really plan on changing that any time soon, Markus just wouldn’t let her.

So why did your dad have you down there?

Don’t know, she grumbled, trying to get the hint across that she didn’t feel like talking about it.

He either didn’t pick up on her verbal cues or didn’t care. Were you hiding from someone?

No.

It wasn’t a total lie, but as her thoughts turned back to Paul and Hitler, her frown gave her away. She had no idea what they knew about her now, and the uncertainty of what had happened in her absence was creating a knot in the pit of her stomach.

You all right? You look sick.

She took her chin off the hand she was resting it against and turned to look at him. You sure do ask a lot of questions. You sure you’re not Gestapo?

He laughed and smiled at her, his hazel eyes shining like diamonds in the glimmer of the evening sun. He looked ready to take on the world, but yet there was a gentleness in his eyes that said he still wanted to save it. The last person she had seen with such emotions was Josef, and the corners of her mouth turned sharply downward at his memory before just as suddenly snapping back into their original position like a rubber band. As usual, Markus didn’t seem to notice.

I’m sure.

Are you married, Mr. Lubrich?

She didn’t know why she’d asked, but she wished she hadn’t the moment he looked away.

Once.

Her expression turned grim at her own distant memories. Me, too.

My wife was Jewish, he said softly, now disinterested in her. They took her to Sachsenhausen, and that was the last time I saw her.

Now she really wished she hadn’t asked. She didn’t know what to say to that and nothing she could think of seemed good enough, but it was obvious that he wanted to finish the conversation she’d started, so she decided to oblige.

When was that?

November 1st.

She sympathetically put her hand over his. I’m sorry.

He nodded against her words, a meaningless phrase that failed to even scratch the surface of something that went so deep. Thanks.

He didn’t say anything else, and though she wished he would change the subject, he never did. The silence between the two of them became a roar, and she decided that even though she didn’t want to, she would try to find out more about him.

Did you and your wife ever have any children?

A son, he said with a faraway look in his eyes. But he died earlier last year.

She bit her lip and looked back out the window at the scenery whizzing by. There had apparently been nothing but pain echoing throughout Markus’ life, and with Hitler constantly trying to take over the world, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon.

What happened?

He was playing with some of the other kids in the area and chased a ball into the street where he got hit by a car.

She squeezed her eyes shut to be rid of the sentence. Losing a child was something she wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially not the man beside her now.

How old was he?

Nine.

She found herself unable to ask him anything else, mostly because she had the feeling like she wouldn’t be able to stomach any of it. Though she had once been able to hide any emotion that attacked her, now everything she felt announced itself to the world on her face, and she wondered if she would ever be able to find that part of herself again when she needed it most. To do so, though, meant clinging to a deadly part of her personality that was enough trouble in its own right.

You okay?

It was Markus’ voice again, and she smiled at him weakly before bowing her head in a slight nod.

Yeah. I’m just tired, I guess.

He returned her nod with one of his own, taking her in for the first time since he’d found her in the bunker. You look like death warmed over.

She laughed at his description of her. Were you this blunt with your wife?

He exhaled heavily against the question, and she winced the moment the last word had left her mouth. I’m sorry, I—

No, it’s all right, he interrupted. And yes, I was. She seemed to like it, though.

Must have, she said sympathetically. Sounds like you guys started young.

We did, he whispered, smiling to himself at the memory. We fell in love as kids. She told me when we were five that she was going to marry me one day, and that I didn’t have any choice in the matter, so I’d just better get used to it… he paused to look over at her. And I loved her every second of her life from then on.

Her expression turned troubled at his words, and she could no longer find a voice for the feelings she wanted to convey. Just like before, he didn’t seem to notice.

I was eighteen when he was born, he continued. We were both too young, and we knew it, but we also knew that our love could survive anything… anything, that is, but Hitler.

She nodded, lost in her own memories that his heartache had brought to the surface. I know the feeling.

He fell silent and appeared to have no intention of speaking again. She looked over at the red armband of Nazi Germany covering the left sleeve of his uniform and finally had to ask.

So why are you… you know… one of them?

He slowly turned his head to look at her, and the exuberance that she had once seen in his eyes at the beginning of the drive was now replaced with utter desolation and anguish. I imagine for the same reason you are: you don’t have a choice, Amelia, regardless of what anyone else tries to tell you.

Now neither one of them felt like talking anymore, and they rode the rest of the way to her father’s office in silence.

*     *     *

THANK YOU FOR coming, Gentlemen, Himmler said to the officers sitting around the table. I’ve called this meeting here today because we need to update the Night Shatter list.

None of them needed to ask what the list was, and they nodded in unison to say they were listening. Himmler took several large sheets of paper out of his briefcase and gestured towards the large board behind him with several magnets waiting to be put to good use.

The following traitors to the Reich have been confirmed deceased, he began as he removed several of the magnets and began tacking up the pictures the moment he said their names.

Emil Schönhauser, Adolf Metzger, Jan Reiter, Hermuth Koch, and Andreas Wollenschläger.

One of the officers raised up the pen they were holding in their hand, leaving it glistening in the evening sun to grab Himmler’s attention. And Dr. Bauer, Sir?

Doctor Richard Bauer, he said proudly, pointing at the officer before tacking Richard’s picture up on the board under the others. Irrevocably and conclusively deceased.

The others murmured amongst themselves, trying to figure out who had actually killed the infamous scientist, and Himmler animatedly waved his hands to tell them to stop talking.

It wasn’t any of you in this room who killed him, and that’s all you need to know right now.

No one asked any other questions, and Himmler watched all of them intently before passing out several folders around the room.

These are the names of the men who are to be added into the Night Shatter list. You’ll find both their employee history and photos inside the folders so you can recognize them should you see them.

The men began to pore through the contents of the folders, and Himmler waited for several minutes before taking out another picture from his briefcase and slapping a blown up version of Paul’s employee identification photo against the board.

The most important man on this updated list is Paul Reichert, he informed them. This man is not only dangerous, he is one of the highest level employees commissioned here, working on almost as many top secret projects as Dr. Bauer did in his heyday. Reichert was previously on the Sky Burn list, along with his wife, Amelia, but passed to Hitler’s satisfaction. The situation has now changed, though, and Hitler has asked that he be reinstated to the new list.

And Amelia? asked another officer on the right side of the table.

Himmler paused to shoot him a death stare before answering his question. Mrs. Reichert has been declared Missing In Action, most likely deceased.

But did she also pass the Watch Order? the man clarified.

At the time, yes, but there were some discrepancies in the report. If she resurfaces, I’ll be in touch as to what Hitler wants done with her, but I think it’s safe to say that we can write her off as still MIA for the moment.

The man nodded and clicked open his pen to write the information into the file, and Himmler held out his hands to address the group. Any other questions?

They all simultaneously shook their heads, and Himmler reached back to the board and tapped Paul’s picture.

Lieutenant Meißner, you’re the official agent in charge assigned to the Watch Order, but I want all of you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything, report back to me immediately, but don’t—under any circumstances—take action of your own accord before the results of the Watch Order are completed. Hitler would, of course, prefer that Paul Reichert is still loyal, but we can’t afford to take any chances, just in case. The last thing we want to do is tip him off and have him go selling countless Nazi secrets to the enemy.

Understood, Sir, came the unanimous response.

He checked his watch, knowing that he had far more to do today than waste time with these men, and motioned for them all to stand up.

Then, on that note, you are all dismissed.

They filed out of the room, and he smiled at his creations as he watched them go. All of these officers were on RF-783, but thanks to months of conditioning beforehand, no one in the Reich could tell the difference.

Chapter 3

RICHARD RAN UP the steps to his apartment in record time and slammed the door shut behind him. He didn’t have long, and there was no way to know if Nikolai had already caught on to his trail. This was a dummy apartment he had rented to try to survive, but it would appear that it hadn’t done any good in the end. Sergei was still unconscious, and it was only by sheer luck that Richard had found him before it was too late. Months had gone by since then, months that neither one of them had had to spare. It was January now, and Richard was back in Berlin ahead of schedule for the sole reason that Hitler had wanted to see him to discuss some issues about RF-783, or so he had said. Hitler really wanted to see him because he wanted him dead, and Richard had to find somewhere to put Sergei before he ultimately defected from Hitler’s sick and twisted Reich.

There was the click of metal as something was placed against the front door, then an increasingly high-pitched sound that could only mean one thing. He ran over to the makeshift bed that Sergei was laying on and breathlessly stood over him.

Find my daughter, Sergei, he begged, heaving for air. She’s still alive, and she needs you. You have to protect her, Sergei, you promised!

The door exploded inwards, sending shards of broken wood splintering in a thousand different directions. Richard used his forearms to shield his face, only to realize once he had lowered them again that he was looking Nikolai Federov dead in the eyes.

Richard Bauer, Nikolai boomed. You have been charged with treason against the Third Reich and Adolf Hitler. How do you plead?

Richard stared up at him coldly, defiantly. Guilty as charged.

He lunged at Nikolai, and though he was still a formidable opponent for his age, Nikolai was a thousand times better than any soldier he knew, and it wasn’t long before Nikolai had backhanded him against the wall, sending him sliding down to the floor with a bloody nose.

I see Amelia’s not here, Nikolai nonchalantly stated like he didn’t have a care in the world. Which means you must still be hiding her somewhere. That’s all right, though. I’ll find her, and when I do—

Richard screamed in a rage and caught Nikolai around the waist before taking him down to the ground, managing to get in several good punches before Nikolai threw him several feet away. He quickly stood back to his feet and kicked at Nikolai, who blocked both it and his next punch before elbowing Richard in the face, sending him sprawling back down to the floorboards.

All right, fine, have it your way, Nikolai spat. But know this: we’ll find your daughter eventually, and it’s the only reason why I’m keeping you alive right now, Richard… because I want to see the look on your face when I kill her.

Richard tried to answer him, but Nikolai was done with wasting time and snapped his fingers at several guards waiting by the doorway that Richard had failed to see. The men came over and promptly grabbed Richard by the arms, pulling him back to his feet.

Take him to the prison, Nikolai ordered.

The men began to lead him away without another word, and Nikolai turned around with the intent of ransacking the tiny apartment, only to be shocked by what was actually awaiting him.

Sergei?

There was no answer, and Nikolai cautiously headed towards his childhood friend, taking in the vast amount of machines that were keeping him alive. Nikolai had been trying for months to find him, and in fact, he had thought that Sergei had defected altogether. But it would seem that he hadn’t actually defected from anything, he had been too busy fighting for his life this entire time.

The sounds of screaming outside increased, but Nikolai failed to care too much about it, even when one of the soldiers came back into the room several minutes later.

He got away, Sir, the man said apologetically. But don’t worry, we’ll get him before the day is over.

No, Nikolai countered, holding up his hand. Bring the others back in here, we have someone we need to transport.

Sir? the man asked in confusion. I was under the impression we—

I’ll get Richard Bauer myself, Nikolai growled as he whirled around to face him, since it’s obvious to me that every single one of you is completely incapable of doing so. That being said, Sergei Komodov needs to be taken back to my apartment immediately. Now, can you do that or is that somehow too difficult for you?

No, Sir, he said quickly, shaking his head. We’ll get right on it.

Nikolai turned back to Sergei and shut his eyes against the sudden tiredness that consumed him. Hitler wanted this man dead, but if he’d taken RF-783, then perhaps he could still be used to Hitler’s benefit. There was no way to know until he woke up, but the fleeting part of Nikolai that still cared about his friend was determined to make sure that Sergei lived to see another day. Until then, though, he had an ex-scientist he had to find.

NIKOLAI OPENED HIS eyes again to block out the memories and focus on the only friend he had ever had. Sergei had followed Nikolai incessantly as a child, and the only reason why they had become friends in the beginning was simply because Nikolai just couldn’t get rid of him. Sergei was eight years younger than him, but it had done little to put a dent their friendship. No, the only thing that had been able to do that was the Roh Forschung project that had stolen Nikolai’s humanity and life as he knew it. The thought that Sergei might end up the same way was maddening, but the part of Nikolai that cared was constantly overpowered by the part of him that was unable to. Now, the only thing he needed to know was whether or not Sergei could be used to Hitler’s control, but so far, Sergei had remained unconscious. He had been transferred to the apartment that Nikolai worked out of nearly a month ago, but there was absolutely zero change in any of his vital signs. Nikolai had already informed Hitler that he had Sergei in his possession, but his boss was anything but a patient man, and Nikolai was quickly running out of time. As if things weren’t bad enough already, Paul had been assigned to find Amelia while Nikolai was instructed to make sure that she and Sergei never met again—at least for the moment. He wasn’t exactly sure how he would do that, but the fact that they still hadn’t found Amelia yet was promising, and he had begun to concentrate all of his efforts on looking after Sergei, mostly alone. Suzan still came by and checked on him when she could, but she was running around fulfilling Stalin’s orders more often than not, and since she and Nikolai were on opposing sides, he supposed it stood to his advantage to hold her at arm’s length for now.

Hitler had given Sergei until the end of the week to wake up, and if he didn’t, then Nikolai was supposed to kill him. Even though part of him didn’t want to, the rest of him knew just what the repercussions of saying ‘no’ to someone like Hitler would be.

Come on, Sergei, Nikolai ordered for the umpteenth time. Wake up.

To his surprise, the familiar, pale blue eyes belonging to his friend began to flutter, and Sergei slowly started to awaken to the world around him. Nikolai stood up so quickly that the chair he was sitting in smacked against the floor while Sergei tried to fight the nausea that swept over him in waves.

That poison did a number on your system, Nikolai explained, knowing there was no time to waste. But it looks like you’ll pull through.

Mmm, Sergei grunted before turning his head to the side like he immediately planned to pass out again.

Nikolai took a cold compress from the table nearby and touched it to Sergei’s forehead, and the younger man gasped at the unexpected contact before opening his eyes again to see a fleeting blur that was slowly replaced by Nikolai’s form.

You’re alive?!

He made a face, remembering that Sergei thought he had been killed in an explosion. That I am.

Sergei attempted to sit up but grabbed his head again when the pain increased like an axe inside his skull. Richard told me you were dead.

Nikolai’s glare deepened, and the revelation appeared to bother him for multiple reasons that he wasn’t willing to share. Well, he lied.

But he said that they had identified your body and everything.

Look, Sergei, Richard had his own agenda to fulfill at that moment, and I imagine he knew that if he had told you I was still alive, you would have never left. He was trying to save you, and the only way he could think of to do so was to lie.

Then where’s Amelia? Sergei asked, hoping against hope that if Richard had lied about Nikolai, he had lied about her as well.

He exhaled loudly, and Sergei felt like his world had just shattered all over again.

I’m sorry, Sergei.

No, you’re not.

Look, she and I had our differences, okay, but I know you loved her, he said softly as he picked his chair back up and scooted it closer to the bed before heavily sitting down in it.

Are you sure she’s really dead?

The voice that had come out of Sergei sounded desperate and child-like, in a way that pleaded with Nikolai for hope in the midst of madness, but to his chagrin, Nikolai nodded slowly, refusing to have pity on him any longer than he had to.

Yeah. Her heart stopped, and she died on the operating table… he paused and shook his head against his oncoming, obvious sentence. She didn’t make it, Sergei.

Well, where’s Richard now?

He’s dead, too, he admitted. Hitler had him executed when he refused to finish the mass production of RF-783.

Sergei closed his eyes again and rolled his head to the side. You should’ve just let me die out there.

Well, forgive me for not wanting to make your son an orphan when I don’t have to.

The memories surrounding the events that had brought him to this place came flooding back to him, and a renewed sense of purpose washed over him until, before he knew it, he had mustered up the strength to sit up and look at Nikolai again.

Where is he?

With Suzan, Nikolai replied, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he thought. Paul turned him over to Armina to watch for the day, so she sent him to us just in case you woke up. But you still need your rest, and we have a lot to do, which means I would advise waiting before you see him.

"I can’t rest and see him?"

Nikolai shook his head. We’ve got a lot to do, Sergei, and only a short amount of time to do it in. The world has changed quite a bit since you’ve been out, Comrade, and it’s not pretty.

He sighed and flopped back against the mattress in despair. He had taken that cyanide pill however long ago it had been because he didn’t want to have to take another breath without Amelia, and now Nikolai was continuing to force a life on him he had never even wanted in the first place. Could he not even die in peace? Nikolai got up out of his chair the moment the thought had left his mind and crossed the floor with every intention of leaving the room.

Where are you going? he asked warily, beginning to wonder if mind reading was just another one of Nikolai’s so-called ‘enhanced abilities’.

Phone call, Nikolai mumbled before leaving the room, unwilling to explain himself or his actions any more than he had to.

*     *     *

WHAT DO YOU mean you don’t think you’ll ever find her?!

Hitler was not amused, and if looks could kill, Paul would have already been dead.

I’ve looked everywhere, mein Führer, but after Richard removed her from the hospital room while I was out, I haven’t been able to find the slightest hint or sign of her.

Do you think she’s dead? he asked with an evil glimmer in his eye.

Paul bit his lip at a possibility he didn’t even want to begin to consider. If anyone could survive something like that, Sir, Amelia could, but it was a pretty bad wound so I honestly don’t know.

Hitler waved away the thought with his good hand. Get out of my office, Paul. And don’t come back here until you’ve found her, dead or alive.

Paul saluted quickly and turned on his heels, making it halfway to the door before Hitler called his name again.

And where do we stand with the mass production of RF-783?

It’ll be ready by the end of the week. We experienced quite a few setbacks after Richard vanished, but the scientists have assured me that they’ve now been able to decipher what little information Richard left behind on the project.

Hitler started to respond, to let Paul in on the secret that Richard had actually been killed by now, but the loud ring of the telephone cut him off, and he angrily snapped the receiver off the cradle and put it to his ear.

What?!

It’s me, Nikolai coolly answered from the other end. He’s awake.

He agitatedly tapped the tip of his pen against the desk and motioned for Paul to stay where he was. And?

I’ll know within a few days.

He rubbed his forehead in thought, unaware of the pen between his fingers staining his ring finger a dark blue. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how much I want him dead.

He’s a good soldier, Nikolai argued without answering his previous accusation. And his body actually seems to be responding to RF-783. Not well, but enough that I would call him usable to your cause—at least for a while.

Having someone like Sergei, who’d been nothing but a thorn in his side for years, at his disposal made him smile. Paul began to fidget nervously until Hitler finally realized that he was still standing there.

Hang on a second, Hitler grunted before cupping the mouthpiece with his hand and glaring at Paul. Is there something you want?

He shook his head. No, Sir. I was just wondering if that was all you needed to see me about?

Did I say that was all? Hitler snapped. I told you to wait for a reason, Reichert, now stand there until I tell you to do otherwise.

Yes, Sir.

And stop fidgeting! You’re making me nervous!

Sorry, Sir.

Hitler shot him one last death stare before removing his hand from the phone and turning away. "I want the full report on this by the end of the week in person, he barked into the receiver. I make the final decision on whether he lives or dies, you got that? And if he underperforms when you test him or appears unsusceptible to suggestion, he’d better be dead within the hour, do you hear me?"

Yes, Sir. I understand completely.

The dial tone humming back at him told him that Nikolai had hung up after answering him, and he muttered something under his breath about insubordination before turning back to Paul.

What were we talking about?

Paul stared at him like he was watching a caged animal at the zoo. Um… you didn’t really say, Sir. You just told me to wait.

Hitler’s mustache moved from side to side as he wrinkled his nose in thought, unable to remember why he’d wanted him to wait in the first place. Well, forget it. Just get out, Paul, and go find Amelia. But don’t get too far because I might have something else for you to do in the meantime.

He nodded in affirmation and saluted before leaving Hitler’s office, grateful that he had made it out relatively unscathed for once. After being unable to find Amelia, he was sure that Hitler would have his head on a stake, and the only thing that was currently stopping him from doing so was his lack of desire to find someone else to fill Paul’s place on Project Rainfall. The sigh of relief he’d been holding in forced its way out of him once he had shut the door and leaned against it.

So everything went okay?

It was Armina’s voice, and the sound of it made him smile. Though part of him was still angry that she hadn’t told him Nikolai was her father, the rest of him had quickly forgiven her shortly after Amelia had gone missing, mostly because he just didn’t want to be alone right now.

He shut his eyes and nodded against the question, unable to give her a verbal answer, though it still satisfied her, nonetheless.

Good.

She wanted to ask about her father, about what they planned on doing with him when they found him, but in days like these, once you heard good news, you didn’t ask about anything else.

*     *     *

SERGEI WAS STILL trying to get up off the bed when Nikolai came back in the room, and he didn’t bother to pretend like he was any more capable of it than that. When he had let go of Amelia, he’d let go of everything, and