Magath watched with a sadistic sense of amusement as the young first lieutenant in front of him looked like his whole world was crumbling around him.

"You never knew your father was a Jew? Interesting," he muttered. Magath picked up his pen and began to write this reaction down in his report.

Eren screamed in rage, "You're lying!"

Magath remained focused on his notes. "I have no reason to lie, nor to tell you all of this, other than those amusing faces of horror you're making. One would think, since you love Jews so much, you'd be happy to find out you're also one."

Eren gritted his teeth as he trembled. If he had to be honest, he had always felt a slight superiority due to his race. He knew that was all just Nazi propaganda, but it was so deeply ingrained, it was hard not to feel like a badge of honor had just been stripped from him, a part of his identity that meant more than the Knight's Cross, his uniform, or anything else they had taken away so far.

What even was he, if not an Aryan?

He was nothing!

A faggot.

A Jew.

Weak. Flawed. Subhuman.

He shook his head as he trembled. No! He didn't believe any of that anymore! Yet the words swirled in his head, drilled in so deeply after a lifetime of Nazi posters, radio broadcasts, school lessons, books, magazines, newspapers, and even playing cards about Aryan superiority, that it was now hard to ignore the foul words society had used against the Jewish people.

What he was—or at least what he had believed himself to be—was all a lie.

He was not superior in any way.

At the doorway, Koslow gave a sneering laugh. "Stupid Jew didn't even know he had rat's blood in his veins."

One cold look from Magath made the Gestapo assistant close his mouth. "I also needed to see just how much you might have been in on your father's and brother's plans for Germany."

"Screw them both!" he yelled. His father had lied. Not only had he never told Eren he had a brother, but he had allowed him to feel proud as an Aryan. It was all a lie! "I know nothing of any plans."

"I believe you. As for how I know all this, the Gestapo has been piecing together information on your father for years. We had hoped to use it as blackmail against Lord Zeke to give Hitler a mole within the British Parliament, but sadly, all the damning things like being a Jew and his father having a second family in Germany, Lord Zeke already knew. That leaves one possible weakness of his that we can exploit: you. If he is truly this desperate to keep you safe, then keeping you alive may give Germany the leverage we've been needing."

Kitz jolted at that. "Keep him alive? He's a faggot and a Jew. He deserves—"

Magath's eyes turned sharply at the captain and barked out, "Are you going to tell the High Command what they should and should not do? Who are you to make such a decision, Herr Hauptmann?" he said, spitting Kitz's title like it was the lowest rank in the military.

Kitz gritted his teeth to hold back from saying anything more.

Eren stared ahead blankly. He understood what this meant. He would be a hostage, a political pawn, imprisoned, but at least he would not be executed right away.

Magath gazed intensely at Eren. "Are you really okay with being used against your own brother?"

Eren sneered in disgust. "We share the same traitorous father, that's all. If I can be useful to the Führer in defeating the British, then my life has a purpose."

"A fine patriotic stance, but it might not go as nicely as you think."

Eren already knew that he could be roughed up in order to keep Zeke obedient, desperate to do anything to keep his little brother alive. It was not the best fate, but it was far better than he had hoped for at the beginning of this night.

"Very good," said Magath, setting down his pen. "I have no further questions at this time. We will search your quarters and interrogate your men. If we find that they've helped you to hide this Jew, they will be arrested."

Eren only barely held back a gasp of horror.

Armin, Jean, and Floch!

Quietly, almost afraid to ask, he muttered, "What about Levi?"

Kitz sneered. "Your faggot lover will hang!"

Magath merely turned his eyes to the captain again, and just that was enough to silence him. "I have questions for him. There is one possibility that he might survive. Tell me, Jäger: you and this Jew worked together because you both spoke English, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"We've concluded that you knew English because your father was a British Jew."

"He ... I ... I don't know anything about him being British, and I have no reason to believe he was a Jew."

"I believe that you really were ignorant of all that. Gabriel, or Grisha, was a smart man, and you were just a child, so of course he told you nothing. I also believe you when you say that you hate the British. I can see in a man's eyes when he has true animosity in his heart. So tell me, do you know why this Jew knows English? Do you know where he learned it?"

Eren gazed over at Levi. Yes, he knew. He knew about Levi's ties to the French military, his time with the Deuxième Bureau as a spy and an assassin, years living in England, and working closely with the Secret Intelligence Service.

Softly, Eren answered, "He said he worked in London a few years back."

"You're lying again. So, you do know, yet you claim to hate the British."

"Levi is not British!" Eren shouted, but he froze. "Is he?" After all, he had not known anything about his own father's past, a man he had lived with for ten years. How could he be certain he knew the truth about a man he had known for barely seven months?

"That, I do not know, but I intend to find out." Magath put away papers, notes, and files, and he closed the massive folder with a thud. "You should feel fortunate that I already did all that research into your family, so I didn't have to torture you for the information. I'm afraid your lover is more elusive, and thus not so lucky."

Eren looked over to Levi in dread and spoke to him in English. "Levi, answer anything he says. He's not going to hurt me, but I don't want to watch him hurt you..."

Koslow smacked Eren across the back of the head hard enough to almost knock him out of his chair. "Sprich nicht Englisch, du Mistkerl." Don't speak English, you sonuvabitch.

Magath glared at the other detective, but otherwise he did not admonish him. "Jäger, sprechen Sie Französisch?" Do you speak French?

Eren rubbed out his skull from the hit as he shook his head. "Nein, Herr Kriminaldirektor."

Magath looked around at the other men in the room. "Spricht einer von euch Französisch?" Do any of you speak French?

Colt raised his hand, but the other Germans shook their heads.

Magath stood up, walked over to Colt, and spoke softly. "Er ist schnell und tödlich. Hören Sie uns aufmerksam zu und halten Sie Ihre Waffe im Anschlag. Wenn er eine plötzliche Bewegung macht, dann machen Sie ihn kalt, aber töten Sie den Oberleutnant nicht." He's fast and deadly. Listen to us carefully and keep your weapon at the ready. If he makes a sudden move, then kill him, but don't kill the first lieutenant.

Colt nodded and loosened the flap on his holster.

Then Magath pulled his chair around the desk to sit in front of the naked Jew. He looked directly at Levi, but his eyes were just as cold and lacking in emotion as a dead fish.

"Merci d'avoir attendu, monsieur." Thank you for waiting, sir.

Levi's eyes widened at the utterly flawless French coming from this German's mouth. "Tu parles français?" You speak French?

"Je parle français couramment et j'ai des connaissances en anglais." I speak French fluently and I speak a little English. "Je parie que vous vous demandez de quoi je parle avec Jäger." I bet you're wondering what I'm talking about with Jäger.

Levi snapped back, "J'en ai rien à foutre." I don't give a shit.

"Et bien, vous devriez vous en soucier." Well, you should care. Magath continued in French, "One of these days, you should ask him about his Jewish father."

Levi scowled and his eyes narrowed.

"Oh? You already knew? Fascinating. It came as quite a shock to him. How did you learn about it?"

"I came into that information on my own."

"And you hid it from your lover? What a terrible boyfriend you are," Magath mocked.

"I spared him. He wouldn't be able to fight for you bastards if he knew he was Jewish, and he was determined to keep being loyal to Germany."

When Levi had sneaked into Nicolo's restaurant and grabbed files about Eren, he had read the truth, everything about Eren's father, his British wife, and his Jewish heritage. Levi burned it, not wanting Eren or anyone else to learn such damning information. He had planned that, sometime after the war, he would tell Eren about what he read that day. Now, the worst people of all knew: the Gestapo.

"Did anyone else in the French Resistance know about Jäger's father?"

"How should I know something like that?"

"Don't insult me. I know who you are, Captain Levi Ackerman, leader of the French Resistance in Metz, formerly of the Deuxième Bureau, also known as The Jewish Blade."

Levi's eyes sharpened murderously and his fist clenched.

"The Deuxième Bureau was angered to see you go. Some in the SIS continue to speak of The Jewish Blade, one of the best assassins in all of Western Europe, until the day he went rogue, killed one of their agents, and vanished into thin air."

"It's nice to know I left a legacy," Levi said wryly, still sneering at the Gestapo inspector.

"You did, just as you had quite an impact on the French Resistance here in Metz after you joined." An icy smile touched his thin lips. "I will never forget the eyes of the transvestite who shot my men."

"I'm not a transvestite. It was merely a useful disguise, and I only wish I had killed you too, you pig-fucking Kraut."

Colt began to jolt forward in anger, but Magath raised a single finger to halt him.

"I would love to know more about your personal life, Captain Ackerman," Magath said drolly. "I know quite a bit about your professional life."

"Oh? As a broom maker? I could make you a good broom for a discount and shove it up your ass. Then maybe this fort will be clean. The entire place is disgusting and reeks of sauerkraut and pork."

Magath was not amused. "You've got quite a mouth on you."

"The better to suck a dick with, right?"

"I personally don't care about the homosexual issue. My concern is the political health of the German ethnic body. Right now, the disease infecting that body is you."

"You flatter me."

"Let's start at the beginning."

"Of my life? Sure. My mother was gangraped by a platoon of German soldiers, got pregnant, kicked out of her parents' house, shunned by the other Jews for having a child out of wedlock, turned to prostitution to keep us fed, moved to Paris during the first World War, and died in the influenza pandemic. Is that early enough, or shall I go all the way back to Abraham and five thousand years of Jewish oppression?"

"We can skip the history lesson. Tell me about how you came to meet Eren Jäger."

"Fine. I went to that town after hearing that the Resistance was getting Jews out of France. The place was bombed, everyone ran, except for us Jews; we had nowhere left to go. Eren found us, and I agreed to work as a translator, not like I had much of a choice."

"Prior to his arrival, were you working with the French Resistance?"

"No. I didn't even give them my real name."

"Yet they learned of your existence soon enough. I know they were in contact with you this past summer. We caught one of their masterminds, a Romani woman named Ymir. Is that name familiar to you?"

Levi recalled the day three women came to rescue them from the dungeon. One had slightly darker skin; Krista and Sasha had called her Ymir. "Sorry, don't know her."

"A shame. It took me a long time to break her," he said with eyes that glinted at the immense pleasure the days of torture must have given him.

Levi sneered. "I bet you feel so strong and brave, hurting little girls."

"I feel loyal to the Reich, that is all. In the end, she told me everything. Then she was useless."

"You killed her?"

"Please, I'm not foolish enough to waste a resource. She's young and strong. She'll serve Germany well in a labor camp. You also could be useful. With your skills, I'm highly tempted to make you an offer—assassinate Churchill or Roosevelt in exchange for Jäger's life."

"Deal," he said instantly.

Magath looked mildly amused. "Yes, but the Gestapo do not believe in sending a Jew to do an Aryan's job. Instead, I'm hoping you'll help me solve a little mystery."

"Help you?" Levi scoffed. "You're the detective here. Are you so inept that you need a Jew to do an Aryan's job after all?"

"Believe it or not, I would rather walk out of this camp without blood on my hands. However, I'm sure you understand, finding out that a first lieutenant in the Wehrmacht is homosexual, and a Jew, with a half-brother in the British House of Lords, and a male lover who is a partisan leader ... this does not bode well for young Jäger. A concentration camp would be the least of his punishments. The captain over there wants you both to be castrated."

Levi almost yelled. No! As if being sterilized wasn't bad enough! Eren was so young. He did not deserve that. He deserved at least his dignity.

"Help me, and depending on your answers, I can keep you both alive."

"Alive? Is this a joke?" he grumbled. Was there actually a chance they could walk out of this fort safely?

"The Gestapo do not joke," Magath said flatly.

Levi glanced over to Eren. To keep him safe... "What do you need to know?"

"When was the last time you were in touch with the SIS?"

"I haven't seen or communicated with a single one since I killed one of their agents and ran off. Around 1937."

"What about the Deuxième Bureau? Any recent contacts?"

"I met one man who claimed to be a retired Deuxième Bureau agent. He knew who I was, but I had never seen him before."

"His name?"

"I only know his alias: Dot. We talked once, just before leaving for Metz. He said the Resistance wanted to get the Jews out of town. Obviously, they failed."

"Did the Deuxième Bureau mention why they wanted you back?"

"The Deuxième Bureau is dead, defunct. Any that weren't killed ran off to London."

Magath's eyes remained cold. "You didn't answer the question."

"I did. There is no Deuxième Bureau anymore. Only the French Resistance."

"Okay. Did the Resistance say why they wanted to recruit you?"

"Yes. To kill Hitler."

Off to the side, Colt stiffened at hearing this, but Magath looked like he already knew.

"You refused."

"Of course I refused. It's a suicide mission."

"It would free your people."

"No, because another snake will pop up from where his head was cut off. They wanted a symbolic gesture: The Jewish Blade cutting down the anti-Semitic leader of Nazi Germany. To hell with that shit! I never wanted to get involved with this damn war."

"Not even to help the Allies?"

"Fuck the Allies. Where were they in 1940? Where were Roosevelt and Churchill when the Germans rolled into Paris? Where was the Soviet Union back then? Making alliances with Hitler, appeasing him, celebrating him, putting him on the cover of Time Magazine! Do you think I trust any of them? Fuck them all."

"I'm sure the French Resistance who died trying to save your people would weep to hear you speaking like that."

"Trust me, they knew I didn't want to help them."

Magath smiled cruelly. "I know. Now, let's move forward in time. I need you to recall a restaurant here in Metz where you two ate, run by a man named Nicolo de Marly."

"I remember," Levi said cautiously.

"Which one of you choose that restaurant?"

"Eren did."

"Had you ever been there before?"

"Not me. Eren said he and his army buddies would eat there because it was good food and a popular place."

"Indeed, full of officers. The perfect location for a little spying."

Levi's eyes narrowed.

"Eren said it was your idea to order the 1929 Burgundy. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Why that specific year?"

"It's the best year for Burgundies. Any Frenchman knows that."

"It was also the only year Nicolo de Marly kept that was not tampered with."

"If Nicolo had fucked up a bottle of '29, he'd be a disgrace to France." His eyes held Magath's, not flinching under the stolid gaze. "You think I knew about the wines being drugged. Do you really think I would've gone to a restaurant knowing some asshole wanted to drug Eren? You can't be that stupid. Or maybe you are. You're an old, balding, Nazi swine after all."

Magath's mouth twitched, but he held back his emotions, knowing Levi was simply trying to provoke him. He picked up his pen and gripped it a little too tightly. "In your own words, what happened that night?"

Levi thought back. He vividly remembered that date, the savory smells, the soft blush on Eren's cheeks, the warm glances across the table, and the feeling of hopefulness mixed with an innocent bittersweetness. It had been a warm memory to brighten the following weeks after Eren was sent out to battle. Now he knew how much darkness hid in the shadows of that candlelit restaurant.

"We arrived at the restaurant and were shown to a table. Eren insisted we order wine, so I suggested the '29 Burgundy. The food came out, and some African waiter stayed nearby in case we needed anything."

"Why would a waiter stay nearby?"

"They claimed it was because the wine was so expensive, we earned ourselves a private waiter."

Magath's eyebrow arched up high. "And you believed that?"

"I've never eaten at a high class restaurant in France. As far as I knew, that was standard practice."

Magath hummed, jotted something down, and muttered, "Continue."

"We ate, and after a while Eren looked drowsy, so we decided to go home. Then he suddenly went limp. The African waiter quickly grabbed Eren before he collapsed. He held onto him while I ran to get Eren's driver."

He paused as the scene replayed in his mind. It was painful, the fall that snapped a bone in his foot and messed up his ankle, the fear of what was happening, the chaos as he struggled with a language barrier, and dread as Floch came to realize that who he thought was Louise was in fact a man. Yet within that flurry of events, something stuck out.

"Thinking back on it, Nicolo and his African waiter were trying to pull Eren into another room. It took some persistence to yank him away. They were reluctant to let us go."

Magath mumbled to himself as he took notes, "Trying to abduct him. Were you aware at the time that Nicolo de Marly was an SIS agent?"

"No. I didn't know until after he was dead. I sneaked into Nicolo's restaurant and found the listening post. It became clear after that."

He stopped writing and set his pen down. "Were you the one who burned down the restaurant, and with it all of the SIS's paperwork?"

A rebellious smirk curled on Levi's lips. "Maybe."

"That caused us quite a headache."

"Good! Fuck you Nazis!"

Magath stared hard and silent for a moment. "So, to recap, you brought the young lieutenant to Nicolo's restaurant, right into the trap set up by the SIS."

"No. I told you, going there was Eren's idea. I thought going out to dinner was too dangerous."

"During the dinner, did Jäger talk to Nicolo for an extended time?"

"He was the one who ordered the food. There was a problem with the wine. Nicolo tried to talk him out of it. So yes, they spoke for a while."

"What language were they using?"

Levi caught his breath, seeing the trap too late. Oh shit!

He glanced over at Eren. Of course, the young German officer could not understand a thing. He looked pale, lost, like he was two steps away from becoming a ghost.

Magath shouted, "Réponds-moi!" Answer me!

Levi swung his gaze back over to the detective with a snarl on his face. He tightened his fist, causing the handcuffs to pull and rattle. Immediately, Colt had his gun out.

Eren snapped out of his stunned numbness, and he began to make a move. "Nein—"

"Eren!" Levi yelled, and finally their eyes met. "You're only allowed to take a bullet for me once."

"What's going on?"

"Just some boring questions," he muttered, returning his gaze to Magath and staring hard. "Dis-lui d'arrêter de pointer une arme sur moi et je répondrai à tes questions, putain de bâtard." Tell him to stop pointing a gun at me and I'll answer your questions, you fucking bastard.

Magath raised a calm hand, and Colt stowed away his gun.

Levi cursed softly, realizing how scared he was for Eren's safety. If only he could get the young man out of the room, he could focus better, rather than being so worried that any move would get Eren killed. Maybe this was why Magath insisted on interrogating them in the same room. Perhaps he already deduced that Eren was his weakness.

Fuck that Nazi bastard! Fuck him for mentally breaking Eren!

Levi wished he had a knife so he could slit this man's throat. He glanced around. Didn't Nazis normally carry a knife of some sort? Was that only the youth groups? In any case, he saw no blades on anyone. Maybe Magath was smart enough to order that all such weapons be left outside.

Magath spoke with dire softness. "What language did Jäger and Nicolo de Marly use? Refuse to answer, and your boyfriend will get to watch as I start to cut off your fingers."

Levi glared in utter hatred at him. "They spoke in German," he confessed.

"Do you speak German?"

Levi's jaws clenched as he shook his head.

"Out loud. Do you speak German, Captain Ackerman?"

Levi turned his eyes to Eren again in apology. "I do not."

"Then how do you know that's what they were talking about?"

Hating that he got caught in such a trap, Levi answered, "It's what Eren told me."

"So the fact is, you have no idea what Oberleutnant Jäger and Nicolo de Marly, an SIS spy, were talking about that night. You can only confirm that they talked for an extended time."

"Do you really think Eren would work for the SIS? He hates the British."

Magath's face held neutral as he looked coldly at Levi. "Is any of what I said false?"

"It's true, but what you're implying is a load of pig shit!"

"I'm implying nothing. I'm merely trying to get your side of the story. The last person I tried to question about Nicolo de Marly was ... let's just say, less than cooperative."

Levi's fists clenched again, but he saw Colt to the side rest his hand on his gun holster. He knew Magath must be talking about Yelena. Just what sort of torture had this man put her through? At least it sounded like she never broke.

"Was it also Jäger who told you why the Negro waiter remained close by?"

Levi realized, it really was Eren who explained that issue.

"Let's not make a scene again. Answer me."

"Yes."

"Good. Now, later that night, there was a reported break-in at the hotel where Oberleutnant Jäger was staying. An officer was shot, and we found blood in the attic. What do you know of this?"

"Someone sneaked in. I confronted the man. Male, pale skin, spoke French, well-trained. He pulled a gun, I stabbed him in the arm, and he ran off."

Magath pulled forward a separate folder and jotted that down. "Well, that confirms one thing."

"What?"

"The man you stabbed was Nicolo de Marly himself. When we examined his body, he had the scar of a stab wound on his arm. Straight through! That's a strong strike for a tiny man."

Levi rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Why did you attack Nicolo de Marly?"

"I didn't know who he was. I thought someone was sneaking in to kill Eren."

"That night, an officer was shot. Was that your work?"

"The intruder was the one with a gun. I had a knife."

Magath paused and looked up at Levi, glaring that he had sidestepped the question. "Jäger said the attacker dropped his gun. You confirmed to him, it was an Enfield, and you took possession of it."

Shit!

"Were you the one who shot Leutnant Samuel Linke?"

"I don't know who that is. I fired the gun once. If I hit someone, it'd be a miracle, considering I was injured, chasing after the intruder, and the attic was pitch black. I'm just a Jew, after all," Levi mocked. "I'm not a perfect superman like you."

Magath let that one pass. "Why were you with Jäger on the day he was drugged and not with the Resistance?"

"I had left the Resistance."

"Why?"

"Their leader and I clashed."

"Do you mean Yelena de Marly?"

"Yes. She wanted my help, but I didn't want to get too involved with them. Besides, Eren has a softer bed," he said with a daring smirk.

The bragging did nothing to Magath. "Let's talk about Yelena for a moment. Who introduced you to her?"

Levi hesitated. He knew about Yelena because of Eren, and Eren learned from Carly. Now, Carly had been arrested for aiding the Resistance. If the Gestapo knew all this, it could put Eren in danger.

"I heard from some orphans," he lied. "If you pay them enough, those brats tell you anything."

The bluff worked, and Magath moved on. "Why, after refusing to help the French Resistance this summer, would you suddenly seek them out now?"

"They promised to get me out of Metz, like they promised me back in May, and the time before that, and the time before that when my wife was murdered on their watch! They failed, again and again and again, and for God knows what reason, I thought maybe this time would be different. It wasn't. Yelena failed, you captured her, her cousin is dead, and I ended up stuck with the chore of making sure her group didn't shit themselves. End of story."

"Hardly. The Resistance grew more bold after Yelena was gone. I thought arresting her would calm things down, if not disband them. Now I believe she was the one holding you back."

"I merely worked more efficiently. Must be the German blood I inherited from my rapist father."

Magath's lip twitched, almost a chuckle. "Maybe that's the case. I was mildly impressed by some of the attacks you made. That took planning, skill, flawless coordination, brutal efficiency ... traits I would not normally expect from a Jew. Perhaps a little Aryan blood explains it."

Levi merely rolled his eyes.

"What sort of arrangement did Yelena and Nicolo have?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Did they speak directly, or through a mediator? Perhaps that brothel madame?"

"If they had an arrangement to communicate beyond face-to-face, I don't know anything about that. The rest of the Resistance only knew that there was some SIS agent in town, and he sometimes fed Yelena information. Beyond that, she hid his identity and kept few records. Smart woman. She was secretive with her own agendas and private contacts I still don't know about."

"So, you truly knew nothing about him?"

"Not until I pillaged his records and then burned them. I hope you at least appreciate how thorough I was. Perhaps it was more of that German efficiency."

"Indeed," Magath said coldly. "Is there anything else you wish to add about Yelena?"

"She starts to smell after about two days without a bath. Not even normal body odor. I mean she smells, bad enough to make the strongest man vomit. Keep her bathed, for your own sake."

"Luckily, she isn't my problem anymore."

Magath jotted something down in his notes. While he did that, Levi glanced over to Eren. Their eyes met and lingered. Eren looked so scared, his teal eyes nearly shook as he struggled with not fully understanding what was going on. Levi hated to see him like this. He wished he could reach over to squeeze his hand with reassurance, but with his hands cuffed behind his back, all he could do was try to convey confidence with his eyes alone.

"Send the boy out," Levi quietly requested.

"Not yet. Speaking of Eren Jäger, what do you know about his brother, Lord Zeke Jäger?"

"Zeke?" he sneered, surprised by the sudden shift in questioning. "I don't know anything about him, other than he's some British dickhead whose mother fucked Eren's dad. Never even heard of him before meeting Eren."

"Did you know he was a member of the House of Lords?"

Levi stared, not answering.

"The news came as a shock to Oberleutnant Jäger, yet you didn't even flinch at hearing his noble title. I take it you already knew."

Still, Levi said nothing. After all, that was a statement, not a question.

"Are you aware that, by attacking Nicolo on the night Oberleutnant Jäger was drugged, you stopped Lord Zeke from rescuing his brother?"

Levi scowled. In one of the folders he had stolen and burned, it explained everything: Zeke's position in the government, his plan, and Nicolo's orders. Originally, Nicolo was meant to drug Eren and smuggle him out of Metz whilst he slept. When Levi instead got Floch to help him get Levi out of the restaurant, Nicolo resorted to breaking into the hotel, planning to carry Eren out. However, Levi once again thwarted him, attacking him in the attic.

He had inadvertently stopped Nicolo from rescuing Eren, and in doing so, he doomed Eren to a month fighting on the front lines. Zeke had hoped to stop that from happening and save his brother.

All of that anguish and the wounds Eren suffered were due to Yelena and Nicolo keeping Levi out of their plans. The miscommunication had cost Eren deeply, and Levi still had not forgiven them.

"Answer the question."

Levi let out a quiet sigh of frustration. "I didn't know it at the time. I didn't know anything about Nicolo besides that he ran a restaurant, and I didn't know anything about Zeke besides that he and Eren are half-brothers."

"So, you claim you were ignorant of them, but were they ignorant of you?"

"I seriously doubt they knew about me. If Nicolo had known, he would have asked for my help."

"Would you have aided him?"

"To get Eren out of this shithole? Fuck yes!"

"So you confess, you would have worked with the SIS if they had offered?"

"Only if it was of significant benefit to me."

"And you consider Oberleutnant Jäger to be enough of a benefit to pull you into this war. Interesting," he said, writing down some notes.

Levi muttered, "What can I say? Love makes you stupid."

"It does indeed. Tell me, Captain Ackerman: what is Lord Zeke's interest in you?"

"I doubt he has any."

"Oh, but he does!" Magath picked up the blood-stained code and showed it to Levi. "Do you know what this is?"

"I don't do cryptography shit."

"It's a letter from Lord Zeke to Oberleutnant Jäger, offering both of you asylum and citizenship in England. That's a hell of an offer to someone who claims he knows nothing about him."

"Quoi?" Levi breathed, and he looked over to the young man. "Eren, is this true—"

Magath bellowed over him, "Si vous lui parlez encore en anglais, je lui tirerai dans la tête." If you speak to him again in English, I will shoot him in the head.

Levi's mouth snapped closed.

Softer, Magath warned, "Ne me tente pas, Juif." Don't tempt me, Jew.

Levi stared hard at him. He had met some sadistic bastards in his years, but never had he met a man as intimidating as this Gestapo detective.

"Answer my question. What is Lord Zeke's interest in you? Why offer you asylum?"

"I know nothing about him, and I don't know how he knows about me. My guess is Yelena mentioned me to Nicolo, who then told Zeke, who looked up my history. As for what he might want with me, I have no clue."

"Why would Lord Zeke send this letter if not to get to you?"

Levi scoffed at the deduction. "You think this is about me? If anything, I'm purely a way to get Eren's attention. He would never go to England of his own volition. I'm the sardine used to convince a scared cat to come out from behind a dumpster, or in this case, a scared teenager trapped in the garbage heap that is the Nazi Party."

Magath's eyes narrowed to slits at the insult to his party. "Why would Lord Zeke reach out to his brother now, after all these years?"

"La voix du sang?" Levi guessed. The voice of blood. "He lost his father, so now he wants to save his little brother from being killed in this war. Makes sense."

"And you knew nothing about any of this?"

"That's correct. If I had known some rich British bastard was trying to save Eren and offering me asylum, I'd be sipping tea on the Thames right now, not sitting in a goddamn internment camp in the middle of a war zone."

Magath stood and began to pace around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

"A former French spy who worked with the SIS randomly meets and becomes the lover of a man whose brother is in the House of Lords, with multiple contacts within the SIS, spies in German communications, and enough influence to affect military decisions in both the Allied forces and even the German High Command. You were an agent, Captain Ackerman. With your skills of deduction, what do you make of all this?"

"Are you lazy and don't want to do your job, Monsieur Inspector?" Levi asked with a snarky tone.

"I want a fresh pair of eyes on this case. Every hypothesis I come up with gets destroyed with each question you two answer. The Gestapo does not work on assumptions and possibilities. We seek truth, and we extract it ... by any means necessary."

Magath walked behind Eren and placed his hands on the slumped shoulders. Eren flinched as the weight rested just above where he had been shot. Magath loomed over the nervous man, and Levi knew in those icy blue eyes, Magath could snap Eren's neck in a second.

"Tell me, Jew," he said with a predatory glint in his eyes. "Do you think Jäger is working with the SIS?"

"Fuck no," Levi said firmly.

"Then, are you?"

"No! I want nothing to do with the SIS. I hid from them for a reason."

"Yet you didn't even hesitate to admit you would have worked with them."

"To save Eren!"

At the sound of his name, Eren looked up, and their eyes met again. Eren could see from the pinch in Levi's brow, he was losing some of his calm demeanor. The Gestapo inspector was finally starting to get to him.

"Then, are you working for Lord Zeke Jäger yourself? After all, he was responsible for sending his little brother right to you, and his activities in espionage spiked right around the time you and the first lieutenant met."

"Which is also around the time the Allies pushed the Germans off the beaches of Normandy. A coincidence."

"I think not." Magath slowly shook his head. "You are right in the middle of a huge plot involving every agency you once worked with, and it all just-so-happens to revolve around the man you're having sex with. Tell me, Captain, if you were in my shoes, would you believe a single word such a prisoner said?"

Levi clenched his teeth. He hated to admit it, but if he was faced with this, he would not believe himself either.

"One of you two is hiding something."

"Or we are being perfectly honest, and you're too stupid to see it."

"There's something else that has me conflicted."

"Good!"

"How did you know we were about to raid the brothel?"

"I didn't."

"Duran told us how many men were in that Resistance cell. There were half that many bodies in the street when it was all over. You knew we were coming."

"If I had known, they all would have escaped," he said with a bit of pride. "After I learned that Duran was cast out, I had him followed. Standard procedure. Whoever tailed him must have figured out where he was going and warned the others while I was gone."

"Yes ... while you were gone," Magath said with a glint of glee in his pale eyes. "Witnesses say a person matching your female persona left the brothel just an hour before we arrived, escorted by an officer that fits Jäger's description. Where did you two go?"

Levi almost answered, but then he glanced over at Eren. If he admitted that they went to talk to Armin, the young soldier would get arrested next. Armin was Eren's best friend.

He had promised not to get any of Eren's men killed.

It was time to honor that promise.

Magath spoke more sternly. "Where did you go yesterday morning, Captain Ackerman?"

Levi's eyes slowly turned up to Magath, and there was a fire of stubborn determination in them. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Magath walked over to him and leaned in close to Levi's face, staring hard into those fierce, stormy eyes. "How long do you think Jäger can hold up under torture before he begs to tell us everything?"

"It'd be a waste of your time. You and I both know, he knows nothing. He didn't know about his Jewish father. He knew nothing about Nicolo. He doesn't know where the rest of the Resistance are hiding. You'll get nothing out of him, and if you think you can break me, well ... many have tried. None have succeeded yet."

"You're goading me on."

"And it's working. Besides, I know you can't kill him, and torturing him now lowers his value as a hostage. Even as he is—shot and beaten—Zeke might cut his losses. Germany can't afford to lose such an important potential informant. You asked, how long would Eren last? I'll warn you, he's tougher than he looks, and it'd all be for nothing. I purposely didn't tell him anything, because I wanted to protect him, precisely in case of this sort of scenario."

"So you could be a martyr?"

"Hardly. I saw you write down that Eren is my weakness, and you're right. I also know he's tough. You could torture him, but you know you shouldn't, because of Zeke. You could torture me and have him watch, but he can't answer anything, because I made sure he didn't know. Your only option is to get me to break, and I will tell you now, you'll fail. So spare yourself the humiliation and give up now."

"That is not the Nazi way."

"I know. Because you're all stupid, stubborn pigs goose-stepping to your ugly-mustached shit-spewing leader."

The string of insults seemed to finally anger Magath.

"First, I just always wanted to say one thing," Levi said with a smirk curling his lip. "Tu parles anglais, non?" You speak English, yes?

"Oui," Magath replied.

"Alors, écoute-moi bien." Well, listen carefully. Levi leaned forward, snarling at Magath. "May you burn for eternity in Hell, you fucking Nazi cunt," he said coldly in English.

Across the way, Eren's eyes went wide at hearing a language he knew. What the hell was Levi trying to do?

Magath smirked in amusement. He pulled away and switched back into speaking in German. "Kriminalsekretär Koslow, cuff him to the chair."

Koslow came forward and readjusted Levi's handcuffs to trap his wrists to the seat.

"Herr Untersturmführer," he said to Galliard. "Fetch me rope, a sharp knife, a spoon, and a broom."

Galliard looked confused. "A broom?"

Magath's icy eyes glared up. "Do not question me."

The deathly chill in his voice made Galliard gulp hard, and he hurried away.

Eren began to panic. "What are you planning to do to Levi?"

Magath looked coldly calculating as he picked up the pliers. "Human imagination is a horrible thing. It dreams up far worse than anything this cruel world can deliver. So I'll let you imagine what I could do to him."

A million horrifying thoughts instantly flooded Eren's mind. He looked over to Levi, who kept his face calm and firm. Eren began to shake in terror as he realized what was about to happen.

"No, please!"

"I would be willing to stop my interrogation if you answer the one question he refuses to divulge."

"What?" Eren said in desperation. Anything to save Levi!

"Yesterday, after leaving the brothel and before we raided the building, where did you and this Jew go?"

Eren's mouth dropped, and he looked over at Levi in astonishment. Armin! Surely, Levi knew what was in store for him, but he was refusing to tell them about Armin's involvement.

He was sacrificing himself to save Eren's best friend.

"Levi, you idiot," he whispered.

Those narrow blue eyes turned to him, sad, apologetic, but firm. He gazed at that soft, youthful face. Here was the man he loved, and he would do anything to protect him.

"Remember what I told you once: the Talmud says, 'whoever rescues a single life earns as much merit as though he had rescued the entire world.' I owe you this much, Eren. A single life."

The tears spilled over Eren's cheeks and he shook his head, yet he could not bring himself to be the one to damn Armin, not after the man nearly died to save his life.

Magath asked, "Verweigern Sie die Antwort?" Are you refusing to answer?

Eren's eyes slammed shut.

Levi whispered in reassurance, "Live a life with no regrets."

His eyes slowly opened again, and inside Eren felt the worst deadness he had ever felt in his life. He looked up to Magath.

"Ich weiß den genauen Ort nicht. Nur Levi weiß es." I don't know the exact location. Only Levi knows. Then Eren glanced over to Levi and repeated slower so the Frenchman would understand—after all, Eren must have said this phrase many times over the months. "Ich weiß nicht." I don't know.

Levi nodded in grim approval. It had to be this way. Otherwise, Armin would suffer, and Eren might never forgive him for forcing him to choose between the two of them. Instead, Levi was making the choice for him.

Levi firmed up his resolve. Yes, he would put up with this to save Eren and the friends who had protected the two of them along the way. After all, he could not save his own companions from Magath's brutality, but he could at least do this much. If Armin was the only person in this world he could save, well, that would simply have to be enough.

Galliard returned, and with him were two more soldiers to help him carry things.

"Ah good. Kriminalsekretär Koslow and Hauptmann Woermann, escort Jäger back to his cell. Afterward, return here. From what I saw earlier," he said to Kitz, "your interrogation technique was grossly flawed. Would you like to learn the proper way to break a man?"

Kitz's bulging eyes gleamed like a demon staring out of a skull. "It would be my pleasure, Herr Kriminaldirektor."

"Good. Kriminalassistent Grice, keep guard over the prisoner. Don't allow Jäger to kill himself. I need him alive."

Eren felt arms grab hold of him as both Colt and Koslow hoisted him up. "Wait!" he screamed in horror.

"Ah, and Jäger," Magath said as Eren was dragged out of the room. "If you happen to remember where this Jew took you, tell Kriminalassistent Grice."

"Please, don't! Not him! He's suffered so much already."

Magath gave a sadistic smile down to Levi. "Anscheinend hat er nicht genug gelitten." Apparently, he hasn't suffered enough.

"Nein!"

"Eren!" Levi snapped. "Go."

"I can't let you suffer for me."

"This bastard speaks English," he warned. He feared Eren might blurt something out. "I knew what I risked the first day I kissed you, and I've never regretted that decision. Don't make me regret this. So please, go."

Eren nearly collapsed in grief. He thought about attacking, fighting to save Levi, but he feared that disobedience might make things far worse for both of them. These men were armed; he and Levi were not. He could not even use one of his arms, and now Levi was handcuffed to a chair.

What could either of them do anymore?

"Takhshet."

Eren's head jolted up with tears in his eyes. However, Levi said nothing else, and Eren realized he did not need to.

That word! Brat, but also Beloved. It was the only word Levi needed to say.

Hands yanked him along, and Eren surrendered. He followed the other soldiers like he had no energy left, shuffling slowly over the cold concrete floor.

Koslow hummed to himself as they walked through the corridors. "I'm glad I wasn't the one to find them together. I heard you guys actually saw that Jew sucking his dick, doing it in public, no less."

"He was," Kitz said, looking sickened by the memory. "Maybe it was that Jewish blood in your veins, making you fuck like an animal out in the open."

Eren sneered. "I'm not a Jew!"

"Your father was and your mother was." Kitz leaned into his face. "That means you are too, Jäger. You're a Jewish swine! I should have shot you months ago." He began to reach for his Webley.

"Back off," Colt warned quietly. "Kriminaldirektor Magath said we need him alive."

"I don't see why," Kitz sneered, still ready to reach for his gun.

"The why isn't of any concern to you. It is a matter of importance to the Reich. That's all you need to know."

Eren's stomach twisted as his whole world collapsed around him. He was losing everything! His own heritage was a lie! Throughout his entire military career, he had been nothing more than a puppet being pulled around by the powerful hand of a brother he had never even met.

Then, echoing through the pale halls of the internment camp, Eren heard Levi howling in agony.

"No!" Eren yelled, instinctively trying to run back.

Kitz's fist drove hard into Eren's stomach, almost making him vomit. Eren coughed, unable to breathe, while arms grabbed around him. He was dragged the rest of the way and tossed into the tiny cell so hard, Eren rolled across the floor. Weakly, he pulled himself up, but he wobbled on his feet. The door slammed shut and locked.

Koslow smiled at Colt. "Too bad you can't watch Magath in action."

Colt's eyes were harsh. "I'm sure it's instructive."

Koslow laughed at the coldness in his voice. "It is. Hey, you," he said to Kitz. "Let's hurry back so we can watch. You wouldn't want to miss the best part. His expertise is ripping out fingernails, but you should see Magath use the broom. He only does that with faggots. Rams it up their ass!" He looked sideways at Eren. "I've seen men die from being impaled that way."

"No!" Eren gasped. "Oh God, no..."

Horrific memories returned, finding Levi in a puddle of blood, a mop handle dripping red from the assault, having to sit there and watch the operation to fix his colon, watching Levi with Kitz's gun in his mouth as he was forced to take Moses' dick, then finding Levi tied up, being brutally raped, and the months of nightmares that followed. Levi had just begun to heal from the trauma.

"Not again," he seethed, sinking in anguish. "Please, don't hurt him like that. Not again..."

Colt peered into the cell. "Do you have anything more to tell us?"

Eren cringed down. It was tempting. Perhaps Armin would not be hurt. He might be shown lenience since he was wounded.

No. More than likely, the Gestapo would deem him unworthy of life, costing them too much money in medical supplies, and kill him on principle.

Eren began to sob as he realized that Levi was willing to suffer like this to protect Armin. He had promised that his actions with the French Resistance would not lead to the death of Eren's men. He was honoring that oath, and Eren had to respect that, although it completely crushed his heart.

Just then he heard a blood-curdling shout.

"No!" Eren howled.

Koslow chuckled cruelly. "Oh! We're missing the fun."

"Levi!" Eren ran to the prison door and stretched his hand out through the bars of the small window, as if maybe he could reach Levi through bolted doors and labyrinthine halls.

Kitz grabbed Eren's arm, and with a sharp pull down, he snapped it between the prison bars. A brutal crunch echoed through the prison, and Eren fell backward, shrieking in pain as his arm hung the wrong direction.

"Hey! Magath said—"

"Not to kill him. A broken arm won't kill a cockroach like him." Kitz sneered at Eren as he screamed insanely from the pain and grief. "If it were up to me, I would slowly castrate you and make your fag lover eat it. He obviously likes to have a penis in his mouth."

Koslow flippantly waved goodbye. "Sit back and enjoy the sounds of your pet Jew's screams." Then he and Kitz walked off, chatting about interrogations like they were a fascinating hobby, not deathly torture.

Eren's whole body was shaking. First his shoulder, now his arm. He knew the symptoms of shock, and he felt himself disassociating from the world around him. The howls that made it this far through the fort pushed him further and further away from reality.

He should have simply gone with Levi.

He should have done more to get him out of Metz.

He should have never kissed him in the first place.

He should have found a way to get the Jews out of that village long before the massacre, before Levi was raped, before all the horror of the past few months.

He should have never opened that one closet door.

Everything! Everything he had done since April. It had not been The Will of God as he once thought. It had all been a series of mistakes leading to this.

He heard echoes of Levi howling, "Arrêtez, bâtards, arrêtez!" Stop, bastards, stop!

Eren's head fell back against the wall, and he wailed in rage, half-insane with grief as his heart ripped to pieces.

Why had he allowed himself to fall in love?

Why had he tried so hard to keep Levi with him?

Why had he not tried just as hard to find him safe passage out of Metz?

"Halt," he sobbed. "Bitte ... bitte verletze ihn nicht. Bitte nicht." Tears flowed down his cheeks. "Bitte nicht!"

Stop. Please, please don't hurt him. Please, don't. Please, don't!

# # #

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I am seriously so sorry...

Hitler on the Cover of Time Magazine

Many Nazi commanders and leaders were on the cover of Time Magazine at some point. After all, what better way to shock your American audience in the 1940s (and sell more magazines) than by putting Heinrich Himmler, Erwin Rommel, Hermann Göring, or Adolf Hitler himself on the cover.

Hitler was on the cover six times: December 1931, March 1933, April 1936, January 1939 (when he was "Man of the Year"), April 1941 (the one you'll find on most poorly-researched blogs about him being Time's Man of the Year, despite this cover being from the wrong year), and his final appearance was May 7, 1945; the writers really rushed that one, since Hitler died on April 30th, and they wanted to detail his demise.

Most famously, Adolf Hitler was named Time's "Man of the Year" for 1938, with the cover published on January 1939. Unlike what some bloggers trying to be edgy may claim, this was NOT an honor, nor was Time Magazine flattering in their depiction. The title of "Man of the Year" is about who had the greatest influence on the world, "for better or for worse" as Time puts it.

In that article, Time Magazine described Hitler as "the greatest threatening force that the democratic, freedom-loving world faces today." The cover featured a ghastly drawing called "From the unholy organist, a hymn of hate" by Baron Rudolph Charles von Ripper, a German Catholic who had fled Nazi Germany; it depicts Hitler from the back playing an organ in a desecrated cathedral, his starved and bloodied victims dangle in nooses from a medieval breaking wheel. Behind the wheel is a member of the clergy trying to give a blessing over the Eucharist despite being obscured by the scene of torment; to the left is a Nazi in uniform playing on a swing that is powered by the breaking wheel, while a group of German nobles look on powerless, perhaps even entertained; to the right of the organ an elite German woman rides a merry-go-round, looking the other way, purposely ignoring the gruesome horror just behind her.

I would not call that a flattering image.

Other controversial "Man of the Year" choices made by Time Magazine with articles that were NOT flattering include Joseph Stalin (1939), Nikita Khrushchev (1957), Ayatollah Khomeini (1979), and Donald Trump (2016). An article with every single time a Nazi was on the cover of Time Magazine is found here, with links to the covers, and most of them have the cover story available to read.

In that article, Time Magazine described Hitler as "the greatest threatening force that the democratic, freedom-loving world faces today." The cover featured a ghastly drawing called "" by Baron Rudolph Charles von Ripper, a German Catholic who had fled Nazi Germany; it depicts Hitler from the back playing an organ in a desecrated cathedral, his starved and bloodied victims dangle in nooses from a medieval . Behind the wheel is a member of the clergy trying to give a blessing over the Eucharist despite being obscured by the scene of torment; to the left is a Nazi in uniform playing on a swing that is powered by the breaking wheel, while a group of German nobles look on powerless, perhaps even entertained; to the right of the organ an elite German woman rides a merry-go-round, looking the other way, purposely ignoring the gruesome horror just behind her.

I would not call that a flattering image.

Other controversial "Man of the Year" choices made by Time Magazine with articles that were NOT flattering include Joseph Stalin (1939), Nikita Khrushchev (1957), Ayatollah Khomeini (1979), and Donald Trump (2016). An article with every single time a Nazi was on the cover of Time Magazine is , with links to the covers, and most of them have the cover story available to read.

#

More on the Gestapo

The Gestapo were created to carefully supervise the "political health of the German ethnic body," and if they found symptoms of "disease and germs" (anyone plotting against the Nazis) they were to "remove them by every appropriate means."

While technically they did not answer to any judicial or legal oversight, most of the Gestapo were career police detectives who merely got transferred to this new division, so they applied common laws like "innocent until proven guilty" if you were a German citizen. In fact, they could not make a case unless they could obtain proof. When torture was used (which was rare for German citizens) it was to seek proof of a crime, not obtain a confession, since false confessions could be made under duress and were inadmissible in court.

So shockingly enough: yes, the Gestapo did have to act civil and follow the law. (At least, to fellow German citizens.)

The Gestapo showed two faces to the public: for average German citizens, they were the friendly neighborhood detective you can feel free to talk to; for political opponents, they were a brutal face of terror you dreaded to see knocking at your door. So if you were a political enemy—communists, socialists, and apolitical/anti-military groups like Jehovah's Witnesses—you feared them, but if you were a political ally, you might invite one over for dinner (like in the movie Swing Kids).

For ordinary German citizens, the Gestapo displayed surprising leniency and kept up genial relationships within the community. German citizens were allowed to be nonpolitical and even disagree with Hitler in the privacy of their own homes. Where things crossed the line was if you voiced those opinions in public. So, you could rant to your wife that Hitler was a one-testicled buffoon, but if you told your mate at the pub "I think Hitler's insane" you could be arrested.

Unlike how the media by Allied countries later portrayed them, the Gestapo were not a near-omnipotent force with spies listening to every phone call, nor was it a requirement that they all be sadists eager to torture anyone unfortunate enough to come into their presence. In fact, they did not even need to be members of the Nazi Party, and most were not. Only the heads of the departments were filled with staunchly loyal Nazis handpicked by the SS.

The reality was that, with a peak of 18,500 Gestapo agents spread across Nazi-controlled lands (plus about 15,000 support staff, secretaries, transcribers, filing clerks, etc.) they were horribly understaffed. Smaller towns and villages did not have a Gestapo agent in their police force. Less than 1% of Germans ever interacted with the Gestapo at all.

Because of the staffing issues, the Gestapo encouraged citizens to do the spying work for them. Their most common source of leads were the neighborhood busybodies who were eager to complain about any person they did not particularly like. (1930s "Karens", you could say.) Some of these busybodies came up with wild reasons why they were convinced the noisome neighbor down the street was a communist. "She gave cookies to all the neighbors! That's communism!"

Most of the people who ended up being reported to the Gestapo were not harboring Jews, but grudges. If a tenant did not pay the rent, the landlord might report them to the Gestapo rather than the police, claiming the lack of rent "proved" the tenant was a communist wanting free housing. Unhappy married couples began to report their spouses to the Gestapo in hopes of having them arrested and executed, rather than dealing with a messy divorce. Most of these frivolous reports were tossed out without ever going to court, and the Gestapo wasted a lot of time investigating petty domestic quarrels, all on the hopes that at least ONE of these people would turn in someone with actual anti-Fascist sentiments.

I emphasize, average citizens thought the Gestapo were simply police detectives there to protect them from spies and threats. Those who stood against Hitler had every right to fear them. The Gestapo did not need a warrant to arrest you. They simply needed suspicion, and then you might vanish without a trace.

Also, the rules against torture applied only to those considered to be legal citizens. Jews were stripped of citizenship, and anyone outside of Germany was not held to the same legal protections. In the lands controlled by Germany, the Gestapo could be merciless, with torture chambers that still exist as museums of remembrance.

Those who suffered are the people who wrote history, so their horrific experiences—which must be remembered!—are the images of the Gestapo we have today.

So, I'm not saying there weren't Gestapo agents who were sadistic assholes and thrived on torture. There definitely were! However, bad historians tend to base their opinions on American movies, not facts, and the media turned the Gestapo into a caricature of Evil-Incarnate.

My opinion is that the problem lies in Nazi Germany's structure. The Gestapo were part of the Reichssicherheitshauptamt (Reich Main Security Office, RSHA) which included Orpo (normal police) and Kripo (criminal police), but these "bad historians" blamed all activities of the RSHA on the Gestapo. I have even seen some mistaking a member of the SS as "Gestapo" ... which I guess is understandable for someone without a strong education in the subject. When not in Germany, Gestapo agents wore SS uniforms, distinguished by their collar and the color of their shoulderboards, yet in a black-and-white photo you can't see if the shoulderboard is green, and casual historians don't bother to learn what the collar symbols mean. It's a sign of being a "history enthusiast" without an actual educational background in history, and the internet is full of that.

So, the Gestapo gets blamed for activities by average police, the SS, and groups like the Einsatzgruppen (death squads). I've seen some of these so-called "history websites" claim "the Gestapo killed 6 million people." Like, I'm sorry, but how badly do you have to fail History class to think the entire Holocaust was brought about by 18,000 detectives? It's a bit like saying every single brutal act by American police, military, right-wing militia groups, and hell, throw in the KKK and Proud Boys, are all the fault of the CIA and saying, "See, the CIA are devils!"

(Sorry, researching anything about the Gestapo to design Colt and Magath's characters for this story was frustrating as hell, so I needed to rant a little.)

In conclusion, the media has been severely over-exaggerating the Gestapo since the 1950s. They were skilled at mind games, excelled in intimidation tactics, and there were definitely some sadistic bastards in their ranks, but they were not listening in to every single phone call or randomly searching houses in every village. They were understaffed, overworked, tasked with catching spies and political enemies, but usually dealing with "Karens" complaining about the neighbor down the street whose kid is taking clarinet lessons, so she thinks the family are Jewish sympathizers and the neighbor is teaching his son how to play klezmer music. (We need a Taika Waititi movie like that!)

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Hey everyone, it's Rhov again.

Thank you so much for all the comments of support and condolences. I know this is the WORST cliffhanger, but I at least wanted to write a little bit more. It helps. I was overwhelmed and crying at the generosity and all the kind words.

Some of you told me that you went through with calling up a loved one. I'm so honored that I could inspire that. It may seem like a little thing, but having that phone call can mean the world. I will forever regret not calling my mother when I wanted to talk with her and instead thought, "I'll just wait until Sunday."

When life gets tough, I usually escape into writing. I've always done that, slipping into a story, a different world, with characters to help me make sense of the insane world around me.

Now, I can't do that, not as much as I would like. I have to be here, be present, sorting through bills, bank statements, lawyers ... we were not prepared for this, and there is a lot of legal issues. My parents were also in the process of moving to a new place they had bought so my sister (who has cerebral palsy) has more room. So much was in process that suddenly losing her is throwing us all into a weird maelstrom, needing to grieve but needing to get this in order.

In short, this has been one time when I can't escape into writing. I want to—God I feel like I need it!—but I can't. Not yet.

My mother used to say, "Polio took my arm, so God made me twice as strong." I'm trying to be strong now, to be like her, the mighty tree that sheltered our family, but it's hard when the stolid tree is no longer there, and what's left is a numbed emptiness in my heart.

Some of the family processes grief by getting out and experiencing even more out of life. My big brother has always been the wandering explorer in the family, living in Fiji, Hawaii, Florida, Cancun, on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, so his way to heal is to go places, and I was hoping for some inspiration. He took me to his house in Texas for a little break from the grief, and we saw NASA's Mission Control at Space Center Houston, the River Walk in San Antonio, the Alamo, Fort Worth Stockyards, we ate at famous Texas barbecue places and Vietnamese phở restaurants (his wife is from Saigon) and saw many unique things.

It was a much-needed emotional break, a reminder that the world has so much to see, and every day is precious. Carpe Diem! Plus it gave the two of us time to talk away from all the others. My brother and I were the only two in our family to NOT join the Jehovah's Witnesses, so some of our personal stories, childhood memories, and general opinions about death, grief, and the afterlife would not be appropriate around the rest of our family. It was a nice bonding experience with my big brother after such a long time living far apart.

I have done about as much as I personally can for my family right now, at least what requires me to be 2000 miles away from my husband (I deeply miss him!) so I will be going home soon. I need to spend a bit more time working with my siblings to make sure our family's future is going to be okay, but all that can be done remotely.

So please, be a bit more patient with me.

Take care, be safe, and stay healthy.

~ Rhov