Ragnarok (Twilight of the Gods Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  She closed her eyes, leaning against the metal bars as the full weight of what she'd lost struck home. Horst had loved her - no, he did love her. He’d turned on his masters, on his comrades, for her. And he’d risked everything just to keep her safe. And now ... she tried to imagine what he would do, if he’d survived the ambush. He’d come for her, wouldn't he?

  He was born in Germany East, she thought. He could get to Germanica without problems ...

  She shook her head, bitterly. Horst might not have survived the ambush, back when she’d been captured. And even if he had survived ... Germanica would be heavily defended, with countless stormtroopers dedicated to keeping Karl Holliston alive. If a team of SS commandos hadn't been able to purge the Reichstag in Berlin of the makeshift Provisional Government, how could one lone man get into the Reichstag in Germanica and get her out?

  And if they catch him, she told herself, they’ll make sure his death is slow and painful.

  She heard the outer door opening again and looked up. Two more masked men - she thought they weren't the same men - were looking at her, their eyes travelling up and down her naked body. She was just too wretched to care, even though she knew they might intend to rape her. The SS wanted to break her - and how better to make it clear that she no longer had any control over herself than by raping her? She braced herself as they came closer, intending to fight even though she knew it would be futile. Perhaps she’d land a blow that would force them to kill her ...

  “We have to talk,” the lead man said. He glanced up at the cameras. “My people are watching us at the moment.”

  Gudrun stared at her. “What ... what is this?”

  The man ignored her question. “Is there any way to end the war?”

  “You could try talking,” Gudrun said. What was this? Who was he? A friend and ally, or just someone playing a mind game? She had no doubt the SS would use every dirty trick it could think of to break her. “This war could go on for a very long time.”

  “Your comrades are planning an offensive,” the man said. “But whatever happens, the Reich itself will be gravely weakened.”

  Gudrun forced herself to meet his eyes. She was dead anyway, no matter what she said. It was rare for girls of good German blood to be executed - the SS normally exiled them to Germany East, marrying them off to settlers who would keep them in line - but she doubted she’d be that lucky. Karl Holliston would want to make a terrible example of her - or, if that proved futile, shoot her in the head and dump her body in an unmarked grave. There was no hope of survival.

  “Does the Reich deserve to survive?”

  The man shrugged. “Can we survive?”

  Gudrun fought down the urge to laugh. “Who are you?”

  “Some people who want to find a different way,” the man said. “We need to know if there is a different way.”

  “Overthrow Holliston,” Gudrun said, sarcastically. She doubted the man would do anything of the sort. “And then we will talk.”

  The man looked back at her, evenly. “And what terms will we receive?”

  Gudrun lost it. She started to giggle, helplessly.

  “I’m locked in a prison cell, stark naked,” she said, when she managed to regain control of herself. Someone had removed the last of her clothing while she’d been asleep. “What sort of terms do you think I could offer you?”

  “Your government,” the man said. There was a hint of ... something ... in his voice that nagged at her mind. “What sort of terms would they offer us?”

  Gudrun forced herself to think about it. The Provisional Government would have liked to control the entire Greater German Reich, but practicality told against it. The economy was in tatters. There was no way the Provisional Government could keep control of the subject nations, let alone keep fighting the war in South Africa. And Germany East? Perhaps, as Volker had suggested, it would be better if Germany East went its own way.

  “They would probably agree to your independence from the rest of the Reich,” she said, finally. She doubted there was any form of compromise that would keep the Reich unified, not one that would suit both sides. “As long as you didn’t pose a threat to us, we wouldn't pose a threat to you.”

  The second man leaned forward. “You’d just let us go?”

  “Yes,” Gudrun said. “I don’t think we could afford to keep you.”

  She sighed. “But Holliston is the real problem,” she added. “As long as he’s alive, there can be no peace.”

  The first man seemed to shrug. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Gudrun said. She wondered if she dared ask how long she’d been in the cell, then decided she probably couldn’t trust their answers. “But Germany Prime and Germany East have been separating for years. Culturally, you’re very different from us. I don’t think you’ll tamely accept all the changes we've written into the laws ...”

  “Of course not,” the first man said. “Imagine giving everyone the vote.”

  Gudrun snorted. The Reichstag had been nothing more than a rubber stamp for the Reich Council for decades. No one had taken it seriously - a seat on the Reichstag was nothing more than a convenient place for the council to dispose of their political enemies. But now, the Reichstag would regain its prominence in the Reich ... if they ever managed to end the war and hold free elections. She could understand why the Easterners might sneer at it ...

  We gave everyone the vote, she thought. It had been hard, very hard, to convince the Provisional Government that women should have the vote. She’d had to fight a long battle to ensure that women, like men, could vote from the age of twenty. And Germany Prime, the most densely-populated part of the Reich, would have a major advantage.

  She shook her head. There were hundreds of differences between the two regions, ranging from how children were raised to the private ownership of weapons and ammunition. She honestly didn't see how they could come to terms. Holliston might not be popular - she had no idea how popular he was - but the SS was very popular. Invading and occupying Germany East might spark an insurrection against the Provisional Government.

  “Get rid of Holliston,” she said. “And then you can talk to the Provisional Government.”

  “We shall see,” the first man said.

  He turned and led the way out of the cell, his companion giving Gudrun one last look before following him. Gudrun watched them go, feeling utterly unsure of herself. Were they genuinely planning to take steps against Karl Holliston? Or were they merely trying to trick her into implicating herself? But it wasn't as if the SS needed an excuse to execute her. They already had her at their mercy.

  She sighed as she turned and walked back to the bed. There was nothing to do in the cell, nothing but wait for something to happen to her. She sat down on the bed, resting her hands behind her head. There was no point in trying to conceal anything from the watching cameras ...

  Maybe they will overthrow Holliston, she thought. She found it hard to believe that Holliston was universally beloved, particularly after he’d assumed the title of Fuhrer. A Fuhrer with real power would be a nightmare. And if they don’t ...

  She shook her head. She wanted - she needed - to believe she had allies, people whose interests matched her own. And if she could convince them to turn against Holliston, she might just be able to get out of the cell before it was too late.

  And if they are plants, she thought grimly, it isn't as if I can implicate myself any further.

  Chapter Twelve

  Germanica (Moscow), Germany East

  1 November 1985

  Gudrun, Katherine noted dispassionately as she stepped back into the security room, was bearing up well under the interrogation.

  It wasn't something she’d expected to admire in her captive. Gudrun had always seemed like a weakling to her, a foolish female who’d seduced many men from their duty. She certainly was not the kind of woman who would openly defy her male relatives, let alone force the men to accept her on her own terms. And yet, ther
e was a hard core of strength in her that Katherine was forced to admire.

  Soft, yet unyielding, Katherine thought. She will bend, but she will not break.

  She kept her expression blank as she stood in the room, watching Gudrun through the security cameras. She’d known far too many women - even women born in Germany East - who would have been humiliated by being forced to remain naked, but Gudrun was neither breaking down nor demanding clothing. And she was keeping herself busy by walking around her tiny cell, even though she had to know it was futile. Escape was impossible without outside help, Katherine knew; the Reichstag was so heavily defended that nothing short of an armoured assault would be enough to break through the defences and gain access to the inner chambers.

  Katherine hadn't had an easy life, even before she’d joined the SS. Her mother had died when she was very young; she’d grown up with her brothers and a number of male cousins, all of whom had treated her as one of the boys. She’d had endless clashes with her teachers over the proper place for a young woman, enduring punishment after punishment for refusing to stay in the space they’d put aside for her. Her brothers had admired her defiance, even after they’d grown old enough to understand the difference between boys and girls. But Gudrun? She’d had an easy life.

  In many ways, Gudrun was precisely the sort of girl Katherine despised. She would have married a handsome young man in a black uniform, abandoning her studies and all hope of a genuine career to bear and raise a legion of screaming brats. Her schooling suggested promise - she wouldn't have got into the university without genuine talent - but it would all have been wasted when she got married. And yet, when her boyfriend had been crippled, Gudrun had literally overthrown the regime.

  Or, at least, she started the avalanche rolling, Katherine thought, dryly. No one could hope to overthrow an entire government without help, save perhaps for the legendary Otto Skorzeny. And she didn't even stop after taking her revenge.

  It was odd. Gudrun was a mixture of admirable and detestable traits. A grim determination that Katherine admired, mixed with a willingness to bend and seek compromises that Katherine detested. Gudrun would not have stood up to her father, Katherine was sure; she’d have found a way to work around him instead. And she would probably do the same with her husband, if she managed to return to his arms. Horst - oathbreaker, traitor - might not understand the woman he’d married. Gudrun would not be content to be a simple housewife any longer.

  I always stood up to the men, Katherine thought. She had stood up to her relatives; her strict father, her bully of an older brother, her teachers who had tried to force her to wear dresses and act like a meek little child. But Gudrun did nothing of the sort.

  It galled her, in some ways, to realise just how much Gudrun had accomplished. And yet, how much of that had been through her personally? Katherine had shot and killed the enemies of the Reich; Gudrun had manipulated countless Berliners to rise up against the Reich, eventually overthrowing the Reich Council itself. Katherine had strangled an insurgent with her bare hands; Gudrun had won the loyalty of some very dangerous men - and done it on her own terms. Katherine couldn't help wondering if the Provisional Government understood Gudrun any better than her husband. If she’d been born a man, she would have been running the Reich by now.

  But if she’d been born a man, there would have been no need for the uprising, Katherine thought.

  Just for a moment, she felt an odd flicker of kinship with the girl in the cell. They were both intelligent and capable women, yet they’d both had to fight to gain even a fragment of respect from the men. Katherine wasn't just a good shot, she was a great shot; she’d beaten the Hitler Youth’s reigning champion, only to have her record dismissed because she hadn't been in the Hitler Youth herself. She needed to be better than the men to win respect ... and Gudrun, she suspected, had had the same problem.

  She turned as she heard the door open, just in time to see Doctor Muller walk into the compartment. Katherine felt her lips thinning with disapproval. Doctor Muller - and she had grave doubts about his doctorate - was a monster. Worse, he was a pervert. He made her feel naked and unclean every time he looked at her, although he was smart enough not to do anything stupid. No one would have complained if she’d drawn her knife and sliced off his balls.

  “Katherine,” he said. He never addressed her by rank. “Our prisoner is doing well.”

  Katherine scowled at him, leaning forward and meeting his eyes. She had no doubt that Muller enjoyed the perks of his job. Fondling helpless girls - girls he’d drugged into comas - was definitely one of them, as far as he was concerned. And she’d heard whispered rumours about the experiments Muller liked to perform on Untermensch women. Katherine held no love for the Untermenschen, but there were limits. Cruelty for the sake of cruelty was simply absurd.

  “How well?”

  “The first dose of the drug should be working its way out of her system now,” Muller informed her. “She will already have lost track of the days. The next dose will weaken her resistance to some of our ... other techniques and then ...”

  “Just remember that the Fuhrer wants her alive and intact,” Katherine reminded him. She was due a reward for her service in Berlin. Perhaps she could convince Holliston to let her be the one to finally execute Muller. “Play your games with someone else.”

  Muller flinched. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I know,” Katherine said. She took a step forward, deliberately forcing her way into his personal space. “And the Fuhrer knows what I mean.”

  She watched, feeling nothing but disgust, as Muller stepped backwards. The man had no fire in him, no bravery ... he loathed women, he saw women as his helpless prey, yet he couldn't even stand up to her. The boys at school had been braver when they’d told her she couldn't play with them because she was a girl.

  “I’ll go start the next set of treatments,” Muller stammered, finally. “I ...”

  “Go,” Katherine said.

  She forced herself to watch as he scurried out of the room, then turned her gaze back to the security cameras. Muller wouldn't try to restrain Gudrun himself, of course; he was far too much of a coward to take the risk. He’d have his orderlies do the job before he dared go anywhere near his prisoner. Gudrun would castrate him if he did anything else.

  And her mere existence would emasculate him, Katherine thought with a flicker of dark humour, if he’d been masculine in the first place.

  She cursed under her breath as she watched the orderlies enter the prison cell. Most of the records from Germany Prime had been sealed, after the uprising, but she did have a few contacts in low places. Gudrun had been engaged to a young stormtrooper - she was listed as his prospective bride in his file, a standard procedure for a young man going to war - and that stormtrooper had been badly wounded in South Africa. The medical report had made it clear that he wasn't going to recover, even before he was shipped back to Berlin. His parents had never been informed of their son’s injury.

  And if that is true, Katherine asked herself, how many of Gudrun’s other charges are true too?

  It wasn't something she’d ever expected to have to consider. She had nothing but contempt for the weaklings of Germany Prime. Life was safe there, life was soft ... she had no doubt that their weakness had bred weakness. They certainly didn't face the risk of constant attack from Untermensch bandits ...

  And yet, was Gudrun right?

  She gritted her teeth as Muller walked into the cell, his face twisted into a leer that made Katherine want to hit him. He would enjoy himself playing with a helpless girl, steadily wearing down her resistance ... except Katherine had the very strong feeling that Gudrun couldn't be broken. It wasn't in Katherine’s nature to submit - she would have sooner died than let a man play with her - but Gudrun might just surprise the doctor. And then ... what?

  And if she’s right about her boyfriend, Katherine asked herself again, what else is she right about?

  ***

  They
were all plotting against him.

  Karl Holliston was no fool. He'd known that declaring himself the Fuhrer would invite challenges, particularly from those who didn't owe their positions to him. Victory in Berlin would have buried all doubts, leaving him secure long enough to make his position impregnable. But now ...

  It was a delicate balancing act, he had to admit. The more men he conscripted into the army and sent west, the weaker the defences in the east. He had no doubt that they could recover any lost territory, in time, but many of the Gauleiters disagreed. Their wealth and power depended on them remaining firmly in power, which would be put at risk if he weakened the eastern defences. It gave them ample reason to drag their feet, to refuse to send men west, to plot against him. And there were limits to how many of his subjects he could purge.

  He cursed under his breath as he studied the map. Germany East was a competing network of fiefdoms, each one operating with considerable autonomy. Himmler himself had set the system up, back when the SS had been granted unrestricted control over the vast swathes of Occupied Russia; he’d parcelled great estates and plantations out to his supporters and the men willing to turn the desolate steppes into genuine farmland. It hadn't seemed a mistake at the time, but now the chickens had come home to roost. Karl couldn't help wondering if his former master had made a deadly mistake.