Freedom From Fear [Joachim]

[Otto Wolff]

Place: Streets of Berlin, Germany
Time: 21.00
Weather: The cold air is standing still, there is no wind at all. Full moon is up tonight and it lights up the street somewhat, although clouds are slowly starting to gather up in the sky.


A small group of people had been driven on the street, the civilians now huddling to keep warm in the chilly evening air. Three black cars were standing nearby, two of them unmarked but one of the cars was marked as a police car with the white text, "Polizei" on the door. The civilians, a mixed lot of three men, two women and three children of various ages, were talking among themselves fearfully in hushed tones, worried of what might happen to them. They had been suddenly forced out of their homes at such a late hour and had been barely allowed to grab some warmer clothing with them as they had been hastily herded outside.

Kriminalkommissar Otto Wolff was standing next to one of the cars, his gaze casually fixed on the old building in front of him. He was a tall, dark-haired man in his fifties, with a rigid posture and constantly serious expression on his face. His hair had started recently thinning due to his age and in the scarce lighting his eyes seemed very dark and penetrating, as if one look from Otto could pierce a man through his very soul. Otto liked to look imposing and he did not really need to make a great effort to seem somewhat scary, either. If the appearance of a tall, broad-shouldered man with a grave expression was not enough to make people jump a bit, the fact that he worked in the Gestapo surely would.

Otto did not much enjoy disrupting the lives of normal civilians like this, but this was a thing which he had learned to accept over the time. The Reich still had enemies everywhere and weeding them out quickly and efficiently from the heart of Germany was an essential and important job. Not all enemies seemed as apparent as others and the ordinary German could just as well find oneself facing the questioning of the Gestapo. Otto was feeling strangely impatient and irate this particular night. They would have been out of here already if things had not gotten suddenly more complicated and he kept glancing at the watch every now and then.

Two men from Berlin's Schutzpolizei and two men from the Gestapo were inside the building, leaving only Otto and his underling, Kriminalsekretär Brenner outside. They were both wearing long, dark coats over their plain suits and both men looked quite like any other civilians around. The people outside of course already knew that these men were members of the Gestapo and the imposing black cars outside might have been a bit of a giveaway, also. Brenner, a younger blonde man in his thirties, was asking questions from one of the men that had been herded outside with others. He wrote down notes in a small notebook, nodding every now and then, asking one question after another, the man hurrying to answer each inquiry in a slightly wavering voice. Otto glanced at his watch once again and with a sigh, walked around the black Mercedes to go fetch the papers from the glove compartment.

A sudden crash broke the relative quiet of the street, making everyone outside freeze for a moment. Something was thrown through the window of the fourth floor of the tall building and the box-shaped item landed right on the roof of the police car with a loud bang, leaving quite a nasty dent on the black metallic surface. The group of people outside screamed and quickly shuffled away from the pieces of falling glass that glittered in the moonlight as they fell down on the street. Brenner had to work on calming the people down and the two women and the children looked scared enough to make a run for it any second now.

A high-pitched voice of a woman was heard from the window with the broken glass, the lady screaming and spouting out fast words. The voices seemed slightly muffled and any individual words were impossible to make out, although it was quite obvious that the woman inside the apartment was in great distress.

[Joachim von Goethe]

Joachim flicked the page of The Basic Writings of Nietzsche, the newly bought book’s pages turning crisply over the binding. He had received the book from his wife, who had tied it up in a brown paper parcel and sent it via mail to the hotel he was currently staying at, a thoughtful reminder that she was still waiting for him in their home in Bavaria. Due to his officer’s salary and dislike of barracks, the Oberleutnant had chosen a regulation hotel near the political district he was currently working at, filing papers for Majors and such. He had immersed himself in the book since fourteen after nine, and was still reading due to the rueful grip of insomnia on the officer’s mind. His curly blonde hair spilled over the three pillows propping his head up, and his skinny torso was aligned arrow straight down under the comforter of the bed, making the hairs on his legs tingle with warmth. The book was scarcely lit by the bedside lamp, the only light in the swanky room. Unused plush furniture was scattered around, most piled high with paper and clothes. He spent little time in the room, other than sleeping and cooking his meals on the small stove provided adjacent to the bathroom cubicle. His Mauser C96 pistol lay on a small desk, shining with oil from a recent cleaning.

On the other side of the street, the sound of broken glass and metal denting made Joachim jump with the sudden noise. His brow furrowed as he threw off the covers and threw on a pair of flared woolen trousers over his underwear and a pure white service shirt, neglecting to button it. Joachim’s gangly fingers grasped the “broom handle” grip of his pistol and raised it next to his right ear, using his right hand to open the sliding balcony door. His bare feet touched the chilly concrete of the overlook, and his partially bare chest tingled with cold air. He immediately wished he would have fully dressed, but instead of going back was instantly mesmerized by the scene in the street. Three black Mercedes, one with intimidating white writing spelling out “Polizei” on the door. The police car had some heavy object resting on its partially caved in roof. High pitched screams of dismay came from all over the street. “Scheiße…” He whispered, and bustled back into his apartment, ignoring the open balcony door. He hastily buttoned and tucked his shirt and pulled on socks and boots, finally throwing on his tunic and leather belt, the stock and holster to his C96 hanging on it. Joachim slid the pistol into the holster slapped his officer’s cap on. The Oberleutnant rushed out of the room, leaving his door ajar and walked briskly down the hall.

Upon reaching an elevator, Joachim impatiently pushed the “Down” button several times, the tip of his leather glove crinkling every time it was forced against the glass-encased arrow. For some reason the officer was compelled to the scene, even though it had nothing to do with him and the consequences might not make it worth while. “Neugier die Katze getötet…” Joachim muttered almost illegibly, his silver boarded shoulders slumping as the elevator button dinged. He slid through the grated doors quickly and leaned in the corner, reaching out a hand and pressing ground floor. Elevator cables above him hummed as the cabin lowered toward the ground floor, uninterrupted by other riders entering. Von Goethe drummed his fingers against his thigh, annoyed by the quick trip. I should have taken the stairs… He thought to himself as the door slid open again, glimpsing the swanky lobby through the gilded copper grate. Joachim exited the box quickly, his holster slapping on his waist as he made his way past the dozing Concierge and briskly exiting through an irritating revolving door that made him feel rather sick

The officer was hit with the same gust of air that had greeted him on his hotel balcony, swirling idly around his tired limbs. The police cars came into view along with a few Gestapo officers questioning a group of civilians, who looked rather worried. The piercing distress on the house to his right still nagged at his ears, enticing his mind to wander. He paused for a moment to gather himself, the leather on leather squeak of his flexing fingers sparkling in the night. Why was he doing this? This was his last chance to go back up to his hotel room and immerse himself in literature before he was finally lulled to sleep, and he passed it up. Strutting over to a middle-aged man with thinning dark hair swept back on his head standing near the ruined car. “Entschuldigen Sie bitte, äh, Herr-” Joachim said, unsure of the policeman’s rank. “-Was ist denn hier los? Ich war beunruhigt in meinem Hotelzimmer und möchte wissen, was hier vor sich geht. Was haben diese Zivilisten tun? Und was zum Teufel passiert, dieses Auto? " He asked, flicking a hand at the Polizei car with a dented roof.

***TRANSLATIONS***

Shit...

Curiosity killed the cat...

Excuse me, um, Herr, What is going on here? I was disturbed in my hotel room and would like to know what is going on here. What have these civilians done? And what the hell happened to this car?

[Otto Wolff]

The clear and sharp crashing sound of the breaking window and the loud metallic thunk when something landed on the roof of the police car was enough to startle Otto somewhat. The item that had been thrown through the window had landed just a small distance away from Otto and the Kriminalkommissar had to scramble out of the way as small shards of glass rained down on the street.

When it seemed that no more items would be raining down from the building for the moment, Otto slowly blinked and took a few steps towards the police vehicle to see what had caused all of this destruction.

It was a radio set, quite an heavy and expensive one, too. There was a shout from the broken window and Otto directed his gaze up, one of Otto's subordinates was peering down to the street. "Jeder lebendig da unten?" he yelled from the window and Otto just waved his hand at him to let him know that nobody had been injured. "Bringen Sie ihnen hier unten!" Otto told the young Kriminalassistent and the man raised his hand back at the Gestapo officer, disappearing back into the apartment once again. The woman had apparently seized her screaming and yelling and the street was eerily quiet again. People did not even dare to turn on the lights in their homes in fear of being seen and possibly questioned by the Gestapo.

Sighing and muttering something to himself, Otto took hold of the collars of his coat and shook the coat slightly to make sure that no shards of glass had landed on him. A few small pieces of glass clinked down on the pavement and Otto realized how lucky it was that nothing more disastrous had happened. Otto's assistant, Brenner, was cursing much more audibly at the unexpected rain of glass from the window, making the civilians near him cringe slightly when they wondered if this incident would cause even worse trouble for them.

A sudden voice interrupted Otto's thoughts. “Entschuldigen Sie bitte, äh, Herr-” said a voice near him and Otto turned his attention to the speaker. A Wehrmacht lieutenant with slightly curly blonde hair was looking at Otto inquisitively, seeming almost unsure if he should have been asking any questions at all. He seemed much younger than Otto himself was and the blue eyes and blonde hair made the Kriminalkommissar slightly amused. It was as if the man had been taken off the pages of one of those books that trumpeted about prime Aryan heritage. “-Was ist denn hier los? Ich war beunruhigt in meinem Hotelzimmer und möchte wissen, was hier vor sich geht. Was haben diese Zivilisten tun? Und was zum Teufel passiert, dieses Auto?" the man continued, motioning towards the now ruined police car.

Otto straightened the collar of his black overcoat and raised his chin slightly, arching an eyebrow and tilting his head sideways as he looked the the Oberleutnant. "Kriminalkommissar Wolff. Wenn es diesen Bürgern kommt, ist das eine Sache der Staatspolizei," he said when the man seemed unsure of how to address him. Otto's hand slipped into his pocket and he took out an oval-shaped disc at the end of a thin metal chain, the silver-coloured metal flashing in the moonlight and glittering in the wings of the swastika-grasping eagle of the Reich. It was a warrant disc of the Gestapo, one that enabled the officer to travel anywhere in Germany. It also protected his identity when needed, usually an agent of the Gestapo was not required to present any other identification other than the disc. The man presented the identification disc quickly to the Oberleutnant, slipping it back into his pocket as he continued. "Und das Auto... So, es scheint, dass jemand dachte, dass es interessant sein würde, sehen, was geschieht, wenn Sie eine Radioanlage aus dem Fenster des vierten Fußbodens werfen. Es ist glücklich, dass niemand verletzt wurde."

The tall, broad-shouldered man walked to the police car, the small shards of glass crunching under his shoes as he did so. Carefully picking up the smashed radio from the roof of the Mercedes, Otto raised it up to study it. It wasn't a cheap radio, but a powerful set that most likely easily picked up foreign transmissions. Listening to radio broadcasts from outside Germany was forbidden by law and could result in severe punishment. A radio such as this could have cost a regular worker's whole month's pay and now it was ruined, the glass on the front smashed and random wires sticking through the polished wooden covering. Opening the door of the police car, Otto placed the radio on the front seat and slammed the door shut, directing his attention at the Oberleutnant again. "Sie kamen aus dem Hotel dort drüben?" the Gestapo officer asked, his gaze shifting briefly to the building in question. "Konnte ich Ihre Papiere sehen, bitte? Bezeugten Sie persönlich was geschah hier, Oberleutnant?" the dark-haired officer continued to ask his questions in a low, slightly husky voice, his tone calm and very matter-of-fact.


Translations:

"Jeder lebendig da unten?"
"Everyone alive down there?"

"Bringen Sie ihnen hier unten!"
"Bring them down here!"

"Kriminalkommissar Wolff. Wenn es diesen Bürgern kommt, ist das eine Sache der Staatspolizei."
"Kriminalkommissar Wolff. When it comes to these civilians, this is a matter of the State Police."

"Und das Auto... So, es scheint, dass jemand dachte, dass es interessant sein würde, sehen, was geschieht, wenn Sie eine Radioanlage aus dem Fenster des vierten Fußbodens werfen. Es ist glücklich, dass niemand verletzt wurde."
"And the car... Well, it seems that someone thought it would be interesting see what happens when you throw a radio set out of the window of the fourth floor. It's lucky that nobody got hurt."

"Sie kamen aus dem Hotel dort drüben?"
"You came from the hotel over there?"

"Konnte ich Ihre Papiere sehen, bitte? Bezeugten Sie persönlich was geschah hier, Oberleutnant?"
"Could I see your identification, please? Did you personally witness what happened here, Oberleutnant?"

[Joachim von Goethe]

As soon as the words spilled out of his mouth, the Oberleutnant regreted coming down to the intriguing scene. The Gestapo man straightened his jacket's lapels, radiating superiourity that made Joachim lean back on his heels nervously. He could be back in his hotel room at this moment, completly disregarding the huddled civilians and black Mercedes, hoping them gone in the morning and going to work like nothing had happened. It seemed to be a much more logical choice, but he had to go and be overzealous. The Gestapo where not one to be meddled with, and Joachim had heard fowl stories of fellow Wehrmacht men being carried away by the men in black, never to be heard of again. Joachim bit his lip as the other man began to talk, his calm voice eerily still in the chilly night air.

"Kriminalkommissar Wolff. Wenn es diesen Bürgern kommt, ist das eine Sache der Staatspolizei. Und das Auto... So, es scheint, dass jemand dachte, dass es interessant sein würde, sehen, was geschieht, wenn Sie eine Radioanlage aus dem Fenster des vierten Fußbodens werfen. Es ist glücklich, dass niemand verletzt wurde." Wolff announced, a tinge of both amusement and annoyence in his voice. The Kriminalkommissar reached into his suit overcoat's pocked and pulled a silver warrant disc, more than enough to signify membership to the secret police. The officer nodded and lifted his boot to look at the sole, which was plastered with crunched peices of glass. He wrinkled his nose and lay his foot down again, pulling down the bottoms of his tunic to straighten it out. Dark lines radiated around his caramel eyes, proving that he had had little sleep. The night was chilly, cool air swirling about the streets of Berlin. It would soon be fall, and then fall would ebb into winter, bringing freezing gusts of snow from the east. It was not a time von Goethe was looking forward too.

"Sie kamen aus dem Hotel dort drüben?" Wolff asked again, gesturing to the big building a few blocks away. "Ja, Der Sibirischen. Ich bin derzeit dort ihren Wohnsitz haben, während ich im politischen Bezirk beschäftigt bin. Warum ist das wichtig, Kriminalkommissar? Gibt es etwas, was ich bin nicht bewusst?" Joachim said, raising one eyebrow in a inquisitive but respectful sort of way. Before the Oberleutnant could recieve an answer, Wolff once again asked him a question in the tone that a police officer would use when pulling over a speeding automobile. "Konnte ich Ihre Papiere sehen, bitte? Bezeugten Sie persönlich was geschah hier, Oberleutnant?" Joachim sighed , irritated, and replied. "Ich war nicht Zeuge den Unfall selbst, aber ich sah die Nachwirkungen von meinem Hotel Balkon. Ich hoffe, dass diese Bürger, die sich für einen fairen Gründen gehalten, ja?" He muttered, ignoring the request for identification, even though his common sense told him not too.

***TRANSLATIONS***

The Siberian, yes. I am currently staying there while I work in the political district. Is there something I am not aware of, Kriminalkommissar?

I did not witness the accident itself, but I saw the aftermath from my hotel balcony. I trust that these citizens are being held for fair reasons, yes?

[Otto Wolff]

The Oberleutnant seemed to hesitate the moment the grizzled Kriminalkommissar spotted him and regarded him sternly. Otto was still making up his mind regarding the officer and he was not quite sure if the man was just curious or if he thought he was above the thing the Gestapo did. He had come upon such people before, although people rarely dared to make too open comments about such things. Otto still could guess what they were thinking and being in the Gestapo did not really help in forming new friendships. They were disliked anywhere they went and even though Otto held no contempt towards the Wehrmacht, he knew that numerous people belonging to the German army hated the Gestapo and the SS with great passion.

When Otto asked the Oberleutnant if he had come from the nearby hotel and seen what happened, the other man said that he indeed was staying at the hotel and had seen only some of the events that had just taken place on the street. When Otto asked to see the man's papers, he seemed to grow irritated. The Gestapo officer could understand that, having to present your papers rarely pleased any member of the army with a slightly higher rank, but then again, Otto was only doing his duty. He would have not been asking for the man's papers if he had stayed away from Gestapo business.

For now, the Oberleutnant acted as if he had not quite heard the Kriminalkommissar's request and the fact made Otto frown. Was the man seriously looking for trouble? "Ich hoffe, dass diese Bürger, die sich für einen fairen Gründen gehalten, ja?" the Oberleutnant asked and Otto scoffed at his question slightly. What did he think, that they wanted to be out here in the cold night and just harass people out of pure enjoyment? Well, no doubt some people thought that was exactly what the Gestapo did, but those people were ignorant fools, anyway.

"Wie Sie sehen, gibt es bereits viel Grund, diese Täter zu verhaften. Einer von ihnen versuchte sogar, einen Offizier der Gestapo zu töten. Sie bezeugten es gerade persönlich, Oberleutnant. Klar war das nichts mehr außer einem Versuch, einen Polizisten anzugreifen. Dann gibt es natürlich diese Zerstörung des Eigentums des Staates, Verhaftung widerstehend, sich bekennend und eine ungesetzliche Radioanlage bedienend.. Muss ich weitergehen?" the man arched an eyebrow. Near the door some of the people that had been brought outside for questioning, were making their way back indoors. The Gestapo was not here to arrest the lot of them, although after such a confrontation at least a few people would end up in the Gestapo prison cell before the night was through.

"Jetzt verstehe ich, dass es ziemlich spät kommt und der Tumult Sie Ihres Schlafes, guten Leutnant beraubt haben könnte. Das, wenn irgendetwas einen ziemlich reizbaren machen kann, aber muss ich Sie wieder bitten, Ihre Identifizierung zu präsentieren. Ich glaube, dass es keinen Grund für Sie gibt, sich davon zu neigen, Ihre Papiere zu mir zu zeigen, bin ich richtiger Oberleutnant?" The older man's voice was steady and even cordial, but at the same time stern. Clearly the Gestapo officer wished to stay on friendly terms with the Oberleutnant, but wanted also to make sure that he would not have to ask a third time. His tone of voice might change very quickly if his request was denied again.

The tall, dark-haired man extended his arm towards the army officer, presenting the palm of his hand and waiting for the papers.


Translations:

"Wie Sie sehen, gibt es bereits viel Grund, diese Täter zu verhaften..
"As you can see, there is already plenty of reason to detain these perpetrators. One of them even tried to kill an officer of the Gestapo. You just witnessed it personally, Oberleutnant. Clearly this was nothing more but an attempt to assault an police officer. Then there is of course this destruction of property of the State, resisting arrest, owning and operating an illegal radio set.. Do I need to go on?"

"Jetzt verstehe ich, dass es ziemlich spät kommt und der Tumult Sie Ihres Schlafes, guten Leutnant beraubt haben könnte.."
"Now, I understand that the hour is drawing quite late and the commotion might have deprived you of your sleep, good Leutnant. This if anything can make one quite irritable, but I must ask you again to present your identification. I trust there is no reason for you to decline from showing your papers to me, am I correct Oberleutnant?"