It was long past dark. Three men wearing SS uniforms drove up to the Feste Göben internment camp. A guard walked up as the car crossed the moat, glaring at the men who looked ready to drive right past him without slowing down.

"Halt! Wer ist da?" Who goes there?

A window rolled out, and a man in the back of the car pulled out a chain necklace. Hanging from it was a silver medallion with the words "Geheime Staatspolizei."

The guard jolted at the sight of the warrant disk marking this man as a member of the Gestapo. Two others in the car also had medallions around their necks and showed them with frigid eyes. The guard stood back and watched with a gulp trapped in his throat as the car continued into the internment camp.

"Gestapo?" the guard muttered. "Why are they back?"

The car drove up to the fort, and the three men stepped out. Word apparently spread quickly, because many young soldiers peeked around corners, hoping for a glimpse of the dreaded Gestapo. One of the more experienced soldiers, a man who had been stationed there back when the fort was run by the secret police, stepped forward.

"Heil Hitler! Welcome back, Herr Kriminaldirektor. More prisoners for us? You know, we're no longer staffed to hold too many."

Magath's eyes narrowed. "We're here about the two who came in this afternoon."

"Do you mean that Heer captain? He refused to fill out paperwork. I can show you to him. Perhaps you should put that wretched Jew he caught out of his misery."

"Lead the way," Magath ordered.

They walked through the frigid hallways, polished black boots clicking on concrete floor.

"I'm glad you told me about this, Grice," Magath said as they turned down corridors.

Colt's eyes were fixed ahead. "An old friend, Reiner Braun, told me he and Captain Woermann had found these two by the river. Many times before, Braun expressed doubts in Woermann's abilities, especially interrogation, having witnessed him try and fail to break a young member of the French Resistance."

A man with a bulbous nose and sadistic glint in his eyes named Koslow marched beside them. "There's a talent to getting people to talk."

"Indeed," Magath said as he stepped into the room where Levi was on the floor, curled into a ball, blood and bruises all over his body.

Levi looked up through a puffy eye and recognized all three men. "Putain de merde," he cursed through a swollen lip.

Both Kitz and Galliard snapped to attention as soon as they saw the two leaves on the man's SS collar, marking Magath's rank.

"Oberführer! Heil Hitler!" Galliard shouted.

Kitz repeated after him, "Heil Hitler, Herr Kriminaldirektor."

Magath saluted them without really looking at the two. He circled around Levi with his hands behind his back. "You again. I thought for sure I would leave this city without catching the mysterious Levi. What have you gotten out of him, Herr Hauptmann?"

Kitz's mouth opened, then closed, choked up on what to say. When Magath's cold blue eyes turned to him, he visibly flinched.

"Have you not questioned him at all? Do you have any clue who this man is?"

"I know he's the fag lover of an Oberleutnant who used to be under my command."

"And how do you know that?"

"We caught them in the act."

"I see. What is the name of this wayward officer?"

"Oberleutnant Eren Jäger. He's in custody."

Magath raised an eyebrow. "Jäger? Braun didn't mention anything about him. What do you know about Eren Jäger?"

"He served under me this summer, before our transfer to Metz. This Jew was a translator for our company, since we lacked a suitable one."

Magath glared at Kitz. "You trusted a Jew to translate for you?"

"I had no choice. Berlin couldn't send a translator because the railroads were destroyed. This rat speaks English, and so does Jäger. It was the only way we could translate between French and German."

"So, these two could have been conspiring from the very beginning."

Kitz mutely opened his mouth again, shocked by the idea. "I trusted Jäger. He's a decorated soldier, a Knight's Cross recipient..."

"Who is also allegedly a homosexual," Magath stated coldly. "Do you have any idea who this little man in front of you is?"

"All I need to know is he's a Jew who should be exterminated."

"He's also the leader of the French Resistance here in Metz, a man I've been trying to catch for months."

Kitz looked stunned and gawked down at Levi again. He had seen this small man catch Reiner's fist, but he never thought that this hinted at what a fierce fighter Levi really was.

"Did it never occur to you that this officer could be a spy using his lover to pass information on to the Allies?"

"I ... n-no, Herr Kriminaldirektor. Such an idea never crossed my mind."

"I'm not surprised," Magath said with an acidic scoff. "Have you questioned Jäger at all?"

Kitz flinched at the sharpness of his words. "No, I did not."

Galliard grumbled, "He offered to let him go if he would shoot the Jew."

Kitz swung a fierce sneer at the SS officer, but Galliard was still upset that Kitz had even offered that.

"I see." Magath's polished boots stepped away from Levi. "I will speak to this Jew and our unlucky Oberleutnant. Koslow, find a suitable room for an interrogation, three chairs, a desk, and see if this fort has any appropriate tools left that I can use."

"Jawohl, Herr Kriminaldirektor!" he shouted and marched out of the room.

"Grice..." Magath's icy blue eyes hardened again. "Bring my file on the Jäger Situation."

"That file, sir?"

"Yes, everything we have on the case. Use the car and hurry."

"Jawohl!" he said, and he took off in a swift stride.

"You, Herr Hauptmann, clean this Jew up."

"Clean him?" Kitz cried out in disgust.

"Dump some water on him, whatever, just wash off the blood and toss him a roll of bandages so he doesn't bleed all over the chair. Once you're done, bring him to the room we'll set up. You will help me, and maybe you will actually learn something." He began to walk out. "Though, I don't have much hope. Prove me wrong, Herr Hauptmann," he said, and he left.

Magath walked down the hall alone, but he heard unsteady breathing coming from one of the single holding cells. He paused and glanced in through the bars on the door. Inside, cast in shadows, he saw Eren wrapped in a blanket, shivering and staring out blankly. The corners of Magath's mouth tightened, and he continued to march onward.

* * *

A room was set up, white and stark, with a Nazi flag beside a sparse desk. When Eren was led in, he saw Levi already seated on a chair, facing a stern man wearing a Gestapo uniform. Eren gulped at the sight of Magath.

As if things couldn't get worse!

Magath was busy writing some paperwork. He looked up only to instantly frown.

"Why is he naked?" he asked in disgust.

Kitz answered, "He was wearing a uniform. A faggot does not deserve that pride."

Magath coldly slid his gaze over to the captain. "So you made him strip off even his underwear? Is this a kink of yours, Herr Hauptmann? It's bad enough that the Jew is naked, but him as well? Are you sure you're not the homosexual here, titillated by seeing naked men running around?"

Kitz looked enraged, but he did not dare talk back. "It was meant to humiliate him."

"It's in poor taste. You," he said to Galliard. "Find the man some clothes."

Galliard nodded and took off.

Koslow asked, "What about the Jew, Herr Kriminaldirektor?"

Magath hunched back over his paperwork. "I don't care as much about the Jew, but this man is still a German citizen and, at least for the moment, a Wehrmacht officer. Until he is found guilty by the courts, he is afforded basic rights under German law, one of those being not to freeze to death in police custody." His eyes slid up in a judgemental glare at Kitz. "He is in my custody now, just so we're clear, Captain."

Kitz's nostrils flared, but he said nothing.

Magath jotted down a few more things on his paperwork. Then suddenly he looked up, realizing Eren was still standing. "Sit," he said, motioning Eren to the chair.

Slowly, Eren shuffled forward and took a seat on the chair. Minutes ticked by with only the sound of Magath's pen scratching against the papers he was filling out.

Eren glanced over at Levi. He had so many bruises, his eyes swollen, his jaw purple, his lip split, and numerous crimson marks swelling up all over his arms, legs, and torso. He also had a few bandages that were soaked in blood. It pained Eren to look at him, stinging his heart all over again. Worse, he knew he could not speak to Levi. He could only sit there and be glad they were both still alive.

A few minutes later, Galliard returned with uniform trousers, underwear, and a greenish-gray undershirt. Eren took these and tried to pull them on, struggling with one hand and flinching when he had to use his wounded shoulder.

In the middle of dressing, Colt entered the interrogation room, a sheen of rain water from outside still sparkling on his coat. He carried a package shielded from the rain with a rubber tarp. He removed the waterproof cover and set a massive leather binder crammed with folders on Magath's desk.

Then Colt glanced over at Eren, frowning as he recognized the soldier who had once served him tea, chatted for a brief but pleasant afternoon, and went to him to report the captain who was now gloating near the back of the room. Eren was trying to get a shirt on with one hand. Colt came over and helped Eren pull the shirt over his head. Eren whispered a thanks, afraid to say too much.

Colt went to the far wall and stood next to Koslow.

The fellow Gestapo agent leaned over to the young assistant. "Have you ever seen Magath do an interrogation?"

"Only basic questioning. I've heard all the rumors about him."

"Yes, his interrogations can be quite intense. Effective, though. They'll talk," Koslow said with assurance.

"Quiet," Magath warned, not looking up. He finished what he was writing and rifled through the stack of files. "Do you need anything to drink, Herr Oberleutnant?"

Eren jolted at being addressed amicably. "I'm fine," he said, but he heard the raspy grating of his parched throat.

"Get him some hot tea," Magath ordered.

Koslow and Colt both looked at one another. Older and higher ranked, Koslow gave Colt a hand gesture to show that this was his duty as a mere Kriminalassistent.

Magath flipped through a few pages in a file, reviewing information. He set some aside and kept others. Eren wondered what such a huge stack was about. Surely not him! He had no criminal record. Could all of that be files on Levi? Just how much did the Germans know about La Lame Juive?

Minutes later, Colt returned with a cup of hot herbal tea and handed it to Eren. He again whispered a thanks and took a sip. To his surprise, Colt had even sweetened it.

Finally, Magath tapped the stack of papers to be neat and orderly. He pulled out another piece of paper, picked up his pen, and began the interrogation.

"State your full name for the record," he said blandly.

"Oberleutnant Eren Krüger Jäger."

"Have you ever used any other names?"

"No."

"Nicknames or aliases?"

"No."

"Date of birth?"

"30th of March, 1925."

"Where were you born?"

"Cuxhaven, Province of Hanover."

Magath glanced up. "My family used to spend summers up in Cuxhaven when I was a child. Good fishing."

Eren was unsure whether smiling in pride of his hometown was inappropriate. Luckily, Magath glanced back at his paperwork and wrote something down.

"Married?"

He grimaced. Shit! He had to bring up her name. The Gestapo likely already knew anyway. "Yes, my wife Louise. Her maiden name is Dumas."

"Children?"

"Not yet. She's expecting," he added. Eren wondered if maybe they would be merciful to a father-to-be; plus, since he had told other soldiers this lie, he guessed the Gestapo already knew, and not mentioning it might be strange.

"Congratulations," Magath said, about as coldly as one could say such words. So much for mercy. "The names of your parents?"

"Grisha and Carla Jäger."

"Were they married?"

"Yes."

"Still alive?"

"No."

"Any living family?"

"No."

Magath paused and looked up. "No family at all? Aunts? Cousins?"

Eren shrugged. "I grew up an only child. My grandparents and all my aunts and uncles died before I was born. If I have distant cousins, I don't know about them."

Those pale eyes stared for a few seconds, then he slowly turned back to the paperwork and wrote something down. "Have you ever been arrested?"

"No."

"Called in for questioning by the police?"

"Twice, both here in Metz. Detective Grice questioned me about some tea I had bought that ended up being contraband—I did not know—and again by you when I was drugged."

"I remember that day. Any other interactions with police?"

"Only when my mother was murdered."

Magath paused, glanced up again, but it was impossible to read any emotion in his eyes. "List all schools you've attended, including officer training school."

At the door, Kitz and Galliard stood with Koslow and Colt. Galliard leaned in close to Colt's ear and whispered, "What's with the basic questions? One would think the Gestapo already knows all that."

"We do," he whispered back. "He's developing a baseline so he can tell if the suspect is lying later on."

"Baseline?"

Magath spoke up louder, "Quiet!" Galliard slammed his mouth closed. "Jäger, how did you meet this Jew?"

Eren glanced over at Levi, still sitting naked in the chilly room. "At my last post, I found him and others hiding in a closet. We kept the group of Jews as forced labor, but I realized Levi spoke English. Our company lacked a translator who spoke French, so I would ask him questions in English, he would ask the townspeople in French, he would give me their replies back in English, and I would relay those answers to the others in German."

"Not efficient."

"It was what we had to work with, inspector."

"Why did you take him with you all the way to Metz?"

"We still needed a translator."

"Whose idea was it to use him as a translator?"

"Mine, inspector," he said honestly.

Magath wrote in his answer. "And whose idea was it to bring him to Metz?"

Now, Eren hesitated but confessed, "Mine, inspector."

Magath jotted that down, and then he set his pen to the side. "How do you know English?"

"I learned it as a child."

"How?"

Eren gulped, shivering from much more than the cold air. His fingers clenched on the mug of tea. "My father taught me."

"How did he learn it?"

Eren shrugged, stumped by the question. "I don't know. He was a doctor. He gave lectures in England."

"Lectures? Is that what he told you?"

Eren looked hesitant and worried. He knew his father said they were medical lectures, but he had found out that his father was actually going to England to be with his other family.

Magath's cold eyes looked straight at him. "There was a man in Metz recently with ties to the SIS, a restaurant owner by the name of Nicolo de Marly. Do you know him?"

Eren shook his head. "I ate at Nicolo's restaurant a few times, but I never knew him personally."

"Did you ever speak to Nicolo de Marly?"

"Just to order food. Never outside of that."

"We have in your records that you were poisoned after eating at Nicolo's restaurant. Tell me again what you remember about that night."

Eren tried to think back to that September evening. "I had been to that place with the other officers. It was good food, so ... so I took my wife there..."

"You didn't take your wife."

Eren jolted, horrified how Magath knew. "Y-Yes, I did."

Magath smirked and leaned back. "Continue."

Eren now felt a mild panic. "We went and ... and we ate."

"Who took your order?"

"I don't know. A waiter."

"Was that waiter Nicolo de Marly?"

Eren squinted up his face, trying to remember details of that night. "I ... I'm not sure. I can't recall his face."

Magath opened his briefcase, searched through, and pulled out a file. From inside, he pulled out a photograph. "Was this the man that night?"

Eren looked at the black and white photo and recognized the curly pale hair and warm, hospitable eyes. "Yes, that was him."

Magath replaced the photograph and put the file back away. "What else happened?"

"We ordered food, it was brought to our table, and I didn't see the waiter for the rest of the night."

"Did Nicolo tell you anything?"

Eren shrugged. "The menu specials?"

At the back of the room, Galliard snorted a laugh and quickly covered it up.

Magath glared, first at the soldier and then at Eren. "I don't appreciate when a suspect gets cheeky with me, nor when he lies." He pulled out his gun and casually pointed it at Levi.

Eren jolted. "No, wait!"

"You took this Jew to the restaurant that night, didn't you?"

"No!"

Magath cocked back the hammer.

"Okay, yes!" Eren cried out in terror. "It was Levi. Louise was already gone by then."

"What did you and Nicolo talk about that night?"

"I don't know!" screamed Eren. "He came, he took our order, that's all. When he came back, he brought out a Negro to serve us. I don't recall seeing him after that."

"Why would Nicolo de Marly bring his Negro servant out to you?"

"He said it was because of a wine we ordered."

"Wine?" Magath asked sharply. He uncocked the hammer and set his gun back into his holster. Then he pulled out another folder and flipped through the papers. "You said during our investigation on the 25th of September that you ordered a 1929 Burgundy and the trout with bread, apple tarts, and ice cream. Does that sound correct?"

Eren grimaced. "You're asking me about a meal I ate two months ago."

"A meal in which you were drugged. That must make it memorable. You said in that investigation that you bought the wine because, and I quote from the transcript, 'I wanted to spoil my wife by letting her enjoy her favorite wine.'" Magath stared with hawk-like eyes at Eren. "We know that wasn't your wife that night. It was Levi Ackerman who insisted on that particular wine."

"I—"

Eren's voice cut off sharply. Was there something about that wine? He slid a look over to Levi. Was the wine drugged? Had he ordered it to incapacitate Eren so he could contact the Allies?

"Why would Levi tell you to order that wine?"

"What?" he asked, feeling lightheaded again, overwhelmed by all the harrowing possibilities. A chill shivered through his limbs. "I ... I think he said it's a good year. I don't know."

Magath set his folder down. With a sharp, swift movement, he stood up and walked over to Levi's chair, taking a stand behind it. He glanced at Colt, who gave a knowing nod and unlatched the strap of his gun holster. Then Magath put his gun to the back of Levi's head, and Colt calmly held his gun pointed, ready in case Levi made a move to steal Magath's gun from him.

Levi saw the looming barrel in his peripheral vision, and his eyes flicked over to the young junior detective. Oh, they were smart! These men were not going to take any chances. Levi was highly tempted to risk it, to try grabbing the Gestapo's gun and shooting all the men in that room. He probably could have, but with the other gun pointed at him as well, now that option was gone.

"Why did you order that wine? Reply!"

Eren cried out, "I don't know. Levi picked it."

Levi's eyes turned sharply to him. He had no clue what was going on, but it looked bad.

"What did Nicolo say about that?"

"He tried to talk me out of it. Nicolo pressured me to buy a '28 bottle, but I insisted on the '29."

"Did you or Levi Ackerman know ahead of time that the 1928 bottles were all drugged or poisoned?"

"What? No!"

"You ordered the one bottle guaranteed not to be poisoned, yet somehow you were still drugged. Later that night, someone tried to break into the attic of your hotel."

"Yes, and Levi fought him off. He was injured trying to fend off whoever tried to kill me."

"Levi fought him?" Magath said, looking intrigued.

"Yes, with a knife. He retrieved the man's gun." Eren looked to Levi and asked in English, "What type of gun did you find the night I was drugged."

"Enfield," Levi said curtly.

"Das ist richtig," Eren said back to Magath. "The attacker dropped an Enfield gun."

Magath raised an eyebrow. He set his gun in his holster and walked back to his desk. Once he was seated, Colt also stowed away his firearm. Magath picked up his pen and scratched down notes on a paper. "A British gun makes sense," he muttered.

"Why?" asked Eren. If anything, that gun had stumped him and Levi. He also felt nervous. That same Enfield was sitting under his cot in the jail cell.

Magath glanced at him for a few seconds, then turned back to his paper to write more notes.

The tenseness of the standoff sank out of Eren's body. Suddenly, the pain came back. Funny how fear makes a person forget pain. He had a moment to look down at the rest of his tea. He finished it off while Magath's pen made scratching noises in the frigid room.

"Tell me," Eren whispered while Magath continued to write. "It was Nicolo who drugged me, right? Was he going to kill me?"

"Kill? No. Abduct, maybe."

"Why would he abduct me?"

"That is part of what I'm trying to figure out."

Kitz ground his teeth in frustration. "This has nothing to do with that faggot Jew!"

Magath flashed a cold, deadly gaze up at the captain. "On the contrary, this may have everything to do with the presence of a Jew in Metz. I suggest you observe and shut your mouth. We already know you're a coward who wounded himself to get out of a battle. Don't think that capturing a Jew is going to erase that from your record."

Kitz flinched at the ice cold eyes.

Galliard looked over at the captain in disgust. "You wounded yourself? Disgusting."

"I will send you both to the front lines if you don't shut up," Magath said coldly. He folded his hands on his desk and focused back on Eren. "You witnessed Nicolo de Marly's death at the hands of Untersturmführer Porco Galliard," he said, waving over to the broad SS officer. "You were accompanied by a woman whose hair matches that wig your lover was wearing today. According to Overseer Pieck Finger, Nicolo shouted out to you in particular, screaming about your brother."

Eren gulped. He had worried about that, fearing the Gestapo would find something and arrest him, yet Levi had burned everything in Nicolo's restaurant. Now it seemed the Gestapo had discovered something after all.

"I don't know what he was trying to say," Eren muttered.

"Luckily, Overseer Pieck recalled the entire thing, word for word." Magath flipped through his stack and pulled out a folder. Inside were many typed reports. "After Magath left with the arrested Ravensbrück escapee, I interrogated the restaurateur, Nicolo de Marly, about his relationship to the escapee. De Marly claimed she was a cousin whom he had not seen in a long time. As I pressed for more information about her, he began to panic. I brought the conversation around to his restaurant's popularity, which calmed him. I asked if I could eat there, to which he expressed genuine honor. When I asked about the wine, he offered me the one you had mentioned as being poisoned, a 1928 Burgundy. When I asked if we could search the cellar, he grew agitated. It was at that point that he shouted the following: 'Your brother contacted me. He tried to get you. He told me to—' However, as he reached toward his coat, Untersturmführer Galliard eliminated the restaurateur, fearing he had a gun. The only people in the area were Oberleutnant Eren Jäger and his wife. I asked Jäger if he knew what the man was talking about. He said no and claimed he does not have a brother. He offered to show me his papers as proof. I declined. I asked if his wife had a brother, but Jäger said she only had two young brothers. I worried if there might be a third spy in the area. Galliard gave an order to Jäger to search the perimeter. We found a letter in de Marly's coat, likely what he was reaching for. It is encoded. I have included it in this report. We searched the restaurant and found numerous tampered bottles, which I have sent to your office. Please remember, do not drink these as they are potentially poisoned. Additionally, de Marly had a Negro servant who was present at the time of the confrontation. His name is African gibberish I could not begin to spell. He is not a person of interest, and I have pressed him into my services for my journey back. If you wish to question him further, I can bring him to your office. This concludes my investigation in Metz. Heil Hitler."

He set the file aside, and Magath gazed at Eren, who hunched over, somehow feeling even colder now than when he was without any clothing.

"You told Overseer Pieck that you didn't have a brother. Are you aware that you have a half-brother living in England?"

All air left Eren's lungs. Shit! How did they know? No one was supposed to know about Zeke! He had lied back then because he seriously thought no one in Germany knew about Zeke. Now that lie was coming back to bite him.

"Answer the question."

Eren slammed his eyes shut. How could he possibly admit that without making himself even more suspicious? He felt his emotions shutting off, emptiness glazing over his eyes. If they already knew about Zeke, he was as good as dead.

Magath pulled out from a briefcase a massive pair of pliers and set them on the desk. "I'm not allowed to use torture on a German citizen, but there is a perfectly good non-citizen sitting right here in this room."

The emotional deadness snapped apart. Eren sharply looked over to Levi.

"Answer, or I will start to remove his fingernails."

Kitz chuckled softly, glad to see this was finally getting good.

Eren tensed his jaw in grim determination. Even if it damned him, there was no way he would let Levi suffer through torture. "Yes, I ... I knew my father had a child with another woman in England."

Magath nodded and wrote that down. "Did you know the message Nicolo had—the one he said was from your brother—was in fact from Lord Zeke Jäger?"

"Lord?" Eren cried out, stunned by the title.

"That's his title as a member of the House of Lords."

"He's a what?" Eren cried out, and his voice crack in shock.

"Did you not know that?"

"No! I know nothing about him, other than the fact that he exists. I don't know how old he is, where he lives, and I certainly didn't know that."

"Your brother is quite powerful, well-connected, and he has been a problem for the Gestapo for many years. That's why we're hoping for your help. Now, answer my questions. Did you know that Nicolo de Marly had a letter for you?"

"No."

"Were you expecting a letter from your brother?"

"No, absolutely not!"

"Have you received any other messages from Lord Zeke?"

Eren cringed at that title. "No."

Magath had been taking notes, but he paused to glance up curiously. "None? Ever?"

Eren growled in frustration. Surely, they already knew. "Once, many years ago. I was in Napola. It's how I learned of his existence. He wrote to let me know my father was dead." Eren scoffed bitterly. "I thought my father's ship sank, and he had died at sea when I was ten. Then I found out, he had some other family this whole time. He never so much as wrote to tell me he was alive. The bastard! That was my one and only communication from Zeke. I didn't seek him out. I wanted nothing to do with him. If I ever saw him, I'd slit his throat!"

He caught the animosity in his voice, and Eren almost laughed. That sounded like something Levi would say. Maybe that irascible attitude was rubbing off on him.

"Did you know Nicolo's message was from Lord Zeke?"

His throat had gone dry, but he felt like if he drank any of the tea, he would vomit from how twisted up his stomach was. "When he shouted out to me, I ... I feared it might be about him," he whispered, feeling his blood turn to ice, "but I did not know for certain. I never saw the letter. Nicolo was killed before he could pull it out."

Magath pulled out a creased paper splattered with old blood stains and handed it over to Eren. "Does this look familiar?"

Trying to avoid the blackened blood, Eren took the paper. It was filled top to bottom with a long list of random numbers.

"Some sort of code?"

"That's the letter that was on Nicolo's body. As he shouted about your brother, he reached into his pocket, trying to pull out this paper. It's obvious he wanted to give it to either you or the Jew; therefore, my hypothesis is one of you knows how to decipher it." He glanced over at Levi. "For his sake, you better hope you're the one who can break the code."

Eren looked over the numbers again, and his brow tightened. "I was fairly good at ciphers in officer training school, but it's not my specialty. Was there anything else with it, anything that could be a key or a hint?"

"There was a 1925 British shilling in the same pocket. Does that mean anything to you?"

"A shilling?" Eren paused, and his face went pale. "A 1925 shilling?"

Magath watched Eren carefully. "The year you were born. Surely of significance."

A gulp got stuck in Eren's throat. "That's impossible."

Magath's eyes narrowed. "What is this code, Eren Jäger?"

He could feel his hands shaking, and his throat was completely parched. He looked at the numbers again, and suddenly the code began to jump out at him.

"Jäger?" Magath said sternly.

In a tense whisper, Eren answered, "It's my father's cipher."

# # #

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Dun dun duuuuuun!

I'm so honored that sumsperantia created these two photorealistic pictures of Eren and Levi. Eren looks intimidating and hot at the same time. They BOTH do! Please go check them out on Tumblr.

https://www.tumblr.com/sumsperantia

Hubby: "Did you tell her to draw me without a beard?"
Me: "No, dear, you just look like a tall Levi."

Warrant Disks – Members of the Gestapo carried these medallions made of silver, brass, or iron (depending on their rank) with their officer number stamped in. They could show this medallion to gain entry into otherwise restricted zones without giving out their names.

This photo is of the actual office in Fort Queuleu. The fort is now a museum and set up the way it looked in 1944. In my story, Magath is using this room for the interrogation. So you can see how cramped it is. Eren and Levi would be sitting very close to one another.

Lord Zeke – Trust me, we will learn more about this soon! Also, I do not really know how peerage works in the UK, so maybe Zeke should not be the rank I think he might be able to inherit through his mother. (Any Brits out there know if a Baron or Earl title can go through an only-daughter's line to her son?)

House of Lords – This is the upper house of the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Before 1958, a member of the House of Lords had to be male and in possession of a hereditary title. Today, women are allowed, and life peerages (non-hereditary title, like baronet) are allowed. They work as a check on the House of Commons, who are elected, reviewing and amending bills before they can be passed into law. Since the early 1900s, their power in Parliament has been severely curtailed. For over 40 years, residents of the UK have been trying to banish the House of Lords, since they tend to be highly conservative and strike down popular bills that financially hurt the wealthy, like raising property taxes.

Secret Code – I had WAY too much fun coming up with that encoded message. By the way, those numbers are handwritten by me. I didn't like the look of the handwriting-style fonts, so I went ahead and actually wrote it down on my own so you get the variations and smudges that come from writing with a fountain pen. Can you tell when my hand got tired?

I will explain the code in the next chapter, but I'm curious if anyone can solve it. If I have a fellow cryptography nerd reading this story, I'm going to be super excited.

I really am curious if someone can break the code. If so, you deserve to work for the government!

2505080125012425990821082500
0425122613080225080327060825
2100142418122521080425092512
2506082125001905080608252019
1223242502252416202516081221
082521080112192508091225092512
112418192524182107122519050821
9919250508261225251424180225
2524161220062521042005122500
1121042506250425061424251805
2426082516122005042520091404
252506160420052500041012252325
2124190810251914241805250821
0824252511210419042520052024
042501160419052510041904132508
2520050425230724211425241812
2509251424182107252104082509
259919050803082516101201250125
0809010817250400040225242516
1424180525121708252425210812
2024252519241921251820192608
2599111819190525042004201925
0508192118251905000420082525
1919050425202524112425091419
24052508012300040525242308
04202505120125072504251201
2501251426082508192514241899
1121252419050821250015241524

.

Personal anecdote:

When I was a kid, newspapers were still a daily thing that arrived on your dew-drenched lawns. My siblings and I were only interested in the comics. They were two pages front and back, and came with games: two crossword puzzles and a Cryptogram. My older siblings fought over the crosswords. By the time I got home from school and could read the comics, all that was left was Cryptogram, which none of my siblings could figure out.

I worked out on my own how to solve this puzzle. Each letter represented another letter, but it was random. MKQLE might mean STORY, with M=S, K=T, etc. I realized that the word length, frequency of vowels, and basic sentence structure gave hints. I'm dyslexic, so perhaps that was why it made sense, because I was used to thinking "this word is not really KORBE but BROKE."

My older siblings, who boasted about how smart they were based on who managed to solve the most questions on a crossword puzzle that day (but rarely could all three of them together finish the whole puzzle) watched me at just 11 years old, solving random letters into famous quotes all on my own.

W LXG GWKFUC GKXMAIM

I WAS SIMPLY SMARTER.

In high school, my best friends and I made up symbols that represented letters. Our backpacks were covered with silver marker or puffy paint of these symbols, which we would write to one another. Mostly it was just friendly "you're awesome" messages. Once, a friend of mine wrote the answers to test questions on her backpack in our code. Sometimes it was naughty teasing, like one of my friends who got "I like cocks" written in bright pink puffy paint. We didn't think of this as ciphers, but it definitely sculpted our minds for alternative ways of communication. (One of those friends now works in communications for the U.S. Air Force.)

Even my husband and I used number substitution ciphers to send secret messages to each other while we were dating. So this has always been a way for me to have fun since I was little.