Knives, Guns, and Money (Steiner R)

[Anton Maas]

Place: Berlin
Year: 1941
Weather: The sun has just began to shine upon a new cloudless day.

The first thought that ran through SS-Standartenführer Gottschalk's head as he awoke was that he was dead. Then he realized that death wouldn't hurt this much. For what seemed like hours, he continued to lie on his bedroom floor, trying to build up the willpower to stand up, or at least open his eyes. Eventually the pain subsided just enough that he could roll over and push himself up into a standing position. He was still blind though, and his mouth was dry and felt like it was full of dirt. To rectify both conditions, he staggered over to the opposite wall of his bedroom, to wake himself up with a cognac from his drink cabinet. But the cabinet wasn't there. At first he thought he might be in a different apartment. He did have the faintest memory of helping a young woman into his Mercedes, maybe he had slept over. Hazy, but pleasant memories of the past night began to fill Gottschalk's head, subduing the pain just enough that he could open his eyes and rub out the sleep, only for it to return twofold once he took in his surroundings.

It was his apartment, after all, but it looked nothing like the last time he saw it. The reason he hadn't found the cabinet at first was because it had been chopped to pieces and thrown around the room, leaving only shattered glass bottles and a large dark puddle where it once sat. The rest of the room was the same, his dresser was likewise dismantled, his bed was off it's frame with deep knife gashes all over it, and even the floor and walls had been smashed into. Horrified, Gottschalk rushed through his open bedroom door into the main room of his penthouse apartment, where there was more of the same. Tears filling his eyes, he walked pass his wreaked sofa and the smashed radio, to instead pick up the once valuable painting his men had given him during the Polish campaign.

Anger now overriding all other feelings, he ran over to his telephone, only to find it in pieces. So he quickly rushed out his apartment door, and down the steps to pound at room 14's door. It didn't take long for the young SS-Scharführer that lived there to open the door. "SS-Standartenführer! I was just up at your penthouse, I though you weren't...." Gottschalk ignored the subordinate and rushed past him towards the telephone. After catching his breath as he dialed once for the operator, he quickly barked into the mouthpiece, "Operator! Get me Gestapo Headquarters!"

A look of puzzlement spread across the SS-Scharführer's face as he followed his superior inside, “Sir, why are you naked?”

--

Meanwhile, countless blocks away, Gustav Messer walked into a bar. “What I can do for you, mister?” Asked the bartender, but Gus ignored him, as he dragged a chair over to the end of the bar, took off his gray jacket, and folded it over the back. “Sir, is there some...” The bartender froze once Gus turned around, revealing his shoulder holster. and the hulk of wood and metal it held against his body. Gustav continued to act like he was the only one there and placed his watch on the bar. As he snapped the leather clash over the broomhandle of his gun, Messer finally addressed the barman, ”Where is it?”

“Excuse me, I don’t know what you’re talking about”

”OF COURSE YOU FUCKING DO!” Gus threw a hand towards the slowly retreating man, who replied timidly, “No, I don’t sir, s-sir.”

”THIS ISN”T WHAT I WANT TO HEAR!” Gus shouted as he leapt at the man, who tried backing up, but the Gestapo officer was able to grab his apron and pull him down onto the floor. With the apron wrapped around his left hand, Messer was able to hold the barman in place, as he punched him in the face with his right hand.

[Rudolf Steiner]

Rudolf could not help but have an extremely wide smirk on his face, as he shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable, completely at ease despite the thousands of eyes that gave him malicious death glare from around the entire room. Rudolf did not regret a single moment ever since he had joined the Nazi party when he was a mere teenager. Today he was donned in a handsome navy blue suit and a black tie, underneath his chemise was neatly buttoned up and his shoes tied. He had shed his natural skin of the Waffen-SS uniform that he wore ever so proudly, he was defeated, yet determined. A tall man enters from the judge's room and the court all rise, Rudolf included, a moment and they all sit. "Please proceed prosecutor." Came an extremely belligerent British accent, all drawled out, in return Rudolf when asked to identify himself spoke in his usual, upper class Berliner accent, "Ich bin Rudolf Steiner, SS-Untersturmführer der 3. SS-Division, Totenkopf, Kommandeur der 2. Infanterie-Kompanie."
"Rudolf, tell us of your first assignment in the SS, also we know full well you are extremely fluent in English so please use English."

Rudolf smirked as he struck a chord with the judges, he knew his fate nonetheless, he was wanted for over 500 counts of murder, war against humanity charges, as well as acts of heinous cruelty towards prisoners of war. He was tried as a high ranked official of the SS, as well as a soldier on the battlefield. Rudolf leaned back with his chair and a lopsided grin etched on his face, a hollow, twisted, inhuman smile.

SS H.Q in Berlin, 15 years prior to the above events, a far younger and carefree Rudolf stood with a cigarette dangling from his lips as he chattered on to a few other SS members all donned in the standard black SS uniform, all ears were centered around Rudolf who was bragging about his days back at the military academy. Steiner ashed out the open window carelessly, their office work was just finished and it was now time for their rotation to go out on the streets. With that the boys took to the streets.

Hours later Rudolf arrives at a bar, where it was reported by an unanimous citizen that a fight had erupted, moving swiftly Rudolf and his men crashed into the bar, Rudolf leading the pack of hungry wolves. Upon their arrival, almost instantly Rudolf could see the root of the problem, the crowd grows silent upon their entry instantly standing out like a cold sore with their black uniforms and caps. The man was still shouting, Rudolf charged forward and pointed his luger pistol to his back as he spoke smoothly, "Schritt nach draußen mit uns werden Sie?"

TRANSLATION!

I am Rudolf Steiner,Waffen-SS second lieutenant of the 3rd division Totenkopf, commander of the 2nd infantry company.

step outside with us will you?

[Anton Maas]

As blood and vomit leaked from the man's face, Messer continued to pound his fist into it, only ceasing when the poor barman started to beg and babble. Cautiously, Gus stood up and let the man roll onto his stomach and crawl through his filth towards the shelves that held the main commodity of the establishment. Quickly, he grabbed a bottle, turned onto his back again, and tossed it towards the Gestapo officer with all his might and with a garbled shout of "Hast Du", ((Fuck you!)) Although Gus had been watching him, he was caught off guard, and the wine bottle knocked the wind out of him and he stumbled backwards onto the floor.

Angry now, Gustav unhooked his pistol and pulled it out of it's holster as he scurried across the bar floor, to jump up on the other side, the worn wooden handle of his C96 Mauser tight in his hand. Only to meet the dangerous end of a rusty sawed off shotgun. Gus could only smile as he lowered his own weapon.

Slurring his words as blood continued to drip from his mouth, the bartender shouted his own orders at Messer, "Etwas zeit für mich dann! Singe ich ein lied fuer dich von uf ihrem weg zum horizont denkst du vielleicht an mich!" ((Wipe that fucking smile off your face! And get the fuck out of here and back to whatever fucking cesspool you fucking crawled out of!))

One of the men in dark uniforms who had just entered the bar stuck his pistol into the barman's back. The barman suddenly became as white as a ghost and he let the double barrel shotgun fall to the floor. Gus holstered his mauser and stepped back behind the bar to addressed the soldiers, "Dann singe ich,” ((Good job officer.)) Gus pulled his ID disc from under his shirt, “Ein lied Messer, Kriminalinspektor Messer.” ((The name's Messer, Kriminalinspektor Messer.))

Gustav took a step forward, only to grab the back of the barman’s head, and slam it into the bar. The civilian collapsed into a heap, and Gus stepped over him to pick up the full wine bottle that had been used as a weapon. It looked fine, no cracks or leaks, and Gus smiled again. ”Fuer dich von und dass Goering’s sowas von sowas kommi auf ihrem weg,” ((This bottle was stolen from Goering’s private collection a few weeks ago,)) Gus held up the bottle towards the soldiers, ”Zum horizont hielt man fuer aus.” ((Could you clean this mess up?)) He pointed to the man, ”Dem all darum schickte ein eine fliegerstaffel hinterher alarm zu geben, wenn es so dabei am.” ((Put him in the back of the black Mercedes outside, I have to make a call.))

Gustav left the bar once again, grabbed his jacket and watch, and walked outside, towards a telephone booth.

[Rudolf Steiner]

Rudolf had a dead serious expression on his face, his icy gray eyes were glinting with sheer malice, out of the worst things any citizen could do, ever was get on the bad side of an SS member especially an officer. The bartender was so caught up with is argument with the other citizen that he did not even realize that the SS had walked in, let alone have their officer run up behind him and point his pistol to his back. Rudolf gave the other man a contempt look when he spoke and just as he was about to lay out an extremely harsh comment, he continued and identified himself, a gestapo officer, a friend of the SS.

Rudolf solemnly nodded him off, as he watched amused as the Kriminalinspektor smashed his head against the bar table causing him to fall into a heap on the ground. The people who had all stopped in their tracks to watch, Rudolf wheeled around glaring at the pedestrians, and people almost instantly went back to what they were doing. The bar was now extremely busy as people went back to whatever they were doing. Rudolf snapped his fingers as one of the black uniformed soldiers moved forward slinging his rifle on his shoulder and moved behind the bar. A moment later he reappears with the unconscious bar man on his other shoulder.

Rudolf listened to what the Kriminalinspektor had to say, nodding to him solemnly, back in Berlin he was donned in the black SS-uniform as he was temporarily transferred back to the SS whilst in Berlin. However once his duties in Berlin are over he would return top the gray officer uniform. "Ich sehe, geben Sie den Befehl, meine Soldaten noch einmal ich persönlich schießen Sie und behaupten, dass Sie identifizieren sich uynderstood verweigert?" ((I see, you give orders to my soldiers one more time I will personally shoot you and claim that you refused to identify yourself uynderstood?)) With that the SS walked out of the bar, the last in line was Rudolf who's icy gray eyes scanned the bar as he left, in his hand was the bottle of wine in question, which he swiped from the gestapo officer's hand.

Once outside the SS dumped the unconscious barman into the SS black Mercedes and Rudolf stood by the front seat as he lit a cigarette watching the Gestapo keenly who was talking in the phone booth outside the bar. He did not like him one bit, however if he is able to manipulate him, he would have a good ally on his side to do things for him. Rudolf read the label on the wine, it was quite an exquisite bottle, dating back from 1800's this bottle would actually go up to 45,000 Marks. How did he know where he find that bottle, perhaps he could coax him into telling him how the Gestapo have eyes and ears everywhere.