The Cage [Lisa]

[Otto Wolff]

Country: Fresnes, France
Current Time: September 1943, early morning


The Fresnes prison was a dark, forlorn place. The cold walls of the old building echoed with the sound of jackboots, the coughs and wails of the prisoners and the occasional cry of pain or a plead for mercy. Even though the walls of the prison had been painted in monotonous facility white, it did little to make the prison seem any less foreboding than it was. An air of hopelessness and fear was hanging heavily over the halls and corridors of the building and the only escape most of the prisoners could expect was death itself. In the solitary confinement section the corridors were darker and quieter - the small, simple cells were designed to break the prisoner's spirit. They could not even hope seeing the light of the day or to converse with the other inmates. In most cases the arrested members of the French resistance were condemned to these cells for the first three or four days and the lack of human contact and the fear of incoming interrogation were enough to break the weakest ones in the course of these first days. The bed was nothing more but a flea-infested straw mat and for relieving oneself there was only a dirty bucket which was emptied occasionally. The prisoners were offered just enough food to keep them alive, but many were weak due to malnutrition and torture. Some refused to eat the bug-ridden, thin cabbage soup for a few days before the desperate hunger gnawing in their stomachs took the better of them. Overall, it certainly wasn't a pleasant place to find oneself in, which was of course just how the Germans had intended it to be.

Kriminalkommissar Otto Wolff found the place repugnant and morbid and he would have rather been back in Paris instead of trudging through these wretched halls of Centre pénitentiaire de Fresnes. He had just settled comfortably in the city and was quite happy with the progress he was making with the French resistance movements there, yet he had still been called to Val-de-Marne to conduct an interrogation. Apparently the young American girl, one he had arrested a few weeks earlier, simply refused to talk and the RSHA wanted to see Wolff interrogating her for a change. They had not used any means of torture on the girl yet, safe for the occasional slap and kick, but it seemed that if the girl kept her tongue, she would soon become familiar with the more forceful means of interrogation the Gestapo could use. The thought of being dragged out here just because of one silly little girl made the tall, dark-haired man furrow his eyebrows in barely suppressed annoyance. He would make the little blonde talk, he would indeed. After that he could be out of this godforsaken place and back in Paris and amidst civilization, maybe enjoying a nice cup of hot coffee and a fresh croissant.

The grim-faced Gestapo officer was wearing his dark Allgemeine SS-uniform again, although he had gotten more used to enjoying the comfort of his civilian clothes for quite some time now. He had only chosen to wear the uniform for the interrogation to add to the effect of intimidation and the sharp sound of his black, polished jackboots echoed in the cold corridors on it's own was enough to send some of the inmates pressing fearfully into the corners of their cells. The scarce lighting of the prison caused for the man's deep-set eyes to be hidden under the shadows of his brows, as if only emptiness existed in their place. The man had hooked his thumb casually under his belt, one connected to a leather strap running over the man's right shoulder and again connecting to the belt behind his back. A black Luger was resting inside a leather holster at his belt and although he rarely had to use the pistol, he kept it in immaculate condition, making sure that it was in working condition, should he need it. The intimidating skull, Totenkopf, decorated the man's peaked cap and the metallic badge seemed to glint maliciously whenever the Gestapo officer walked under one of the lamps fixed to the ceiling.

He was flanked by two German guards of the prison, the other one holding a set of keys and a pair of handcuffs. The three Germans stopped at one of the cells and Otto waited patiently as the guard, first using the small peephole to check on the prisoner, proceeded to unlock and open the door. The stench inside the cell was abhorring and Otto only barely resisted the urge to take a step back to avoid the initial attack of the horrid smell. Still, Otto could not find any compassion in his heart for these prisoners - they were enemies of the Reich and criminals, responsible for the deaths of various fine young German men, and as such deserved their dismal fates. Had they stayed away from resistance dealings, they wouldn't be rotting their final days away in a prison, now would they?

The guards stepped in to collect the girl, quite forcefully bending her arms behind her back to put the handcuffs on her wrists. Otto did not step inside the room and the darkness of the cell and the light coming from the corridor behind him made him just a tall, black figure looming in the doorway. It would have been impossible to identify the man, had he not spoken, that familiar soft, yet ominous voice echoing from the walls of the small cell. "Fräulein Wieserman, so good to see you again. I must apologize for the intrusion, but I believe we have something to discuss."

[lisawieserman1941]

Gritting her teeth in obvious pain as the SS guards roughly cuffed her, Lisa spat in defiance at the Gestapo man's decree.

"I highly doubt you are one to be true to an apology for a suspected French Resistance fighter," Lisa shed through pressed lips, white from stress, dehydration, disease, and an alarming lack of nutrients.

"I see you have your watch dogs do your dirty work. No doubt hand picked for the job of manhandling women. Or perhaps they would enjoy more?" The American inquired with blatant sarcasm dressing her words, whilst winking at the two in a mocked flirtatious gesture.

The one guard, much older than the other rookie guard knew English, and found heightened disdain with Lisa's curt choice of words, pushing her hard against the unforgiving wall as her face bruised from the impact. The younger guard then joined in and muscled her as well with the black barrel from his MP-40 crashing into her upper spine. A muffled cry was all they received for the punishing action they inflicted on the spirited young prisoner. Lisa then cussed at them in her brazen New York city tongue. The four days did nothing to break the young partisan. She celebrated a chance to fight back, and the given situation elevated her mood which was previously sour from the solitude and congested air, coupled by the fear of a most certain impending termination she faced like a seasoned veteran. The smell was not as bad as the male prisoners. Being a vegetarian, her waste was less offending. Lisa knew bugs were protein, so ingested the insects from the soup for energy, but it served as no help against her illness and compromised immunity. The fleas in the mattress gave her something to do. She found satisfaction from scratching where it itched. Lisa did look the sight. Her face was pale and shrunken, framed by red patches incurred by flea bites. A bladder infection from urinating in the dirty pail was the hardest to bear. At times she bent over as a cramp ensued, sweat drenching her delicate features, a tell tail sign of a high fever. Her once vivid blue eyes were altered to a dull morbid hue combined with bloodshot orbs sustained from the spent ordeal in captivity. The limited morsel of food and liquid at least disrupted her cycle to free her from that embarrassment. As the partisan was ushered forward to her interrogator, Lisa scoffed, adding yet another shot with her venomous accent.

"Herr Kriminalkommissar, you look quite attractive in your raven uniform. The red and white armband adorned by the swastika, plus that flashy cap of the intimidating death's head do you justice. Your civilian clothes are way too placid. Allow me to congratulate your tailor on the fine angular shape of your uniform. And those boots...how elegantly polished. I expect you must revel in your reflection knowing how egotistical the SS are. I do believe you would stand out behind the reins of a black stallion. Your hair color, grim demeanor, and commanding air fit impeccably with your chosen attire. I have to admit the Germans are a stylish breed," she shared with Otto in jest, able to present him with a triumphant striking smile for besting the torture, proving her spirit was intact.

"I find some of the German soldiers are quite alluring, and now even you. It must be the uniform," Lisa chuckled under her breath, still locked in her warped humor, enjoying a chance to communicate after not being able to speak to a person since being incarcerated in the pit of despair.

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can possibly stay awake through the entire interrogation, ah discussion," she corrected herself, licking her lips like she was eager to lock horns with him in debate.

"I have caught a rather annoying bladder infection from the glamorous hygienic pail that was so generously bestowed upon me in my spacious quarters. It has made me weak, physically. The food is most exotic. They say insects are the perfect protein. But the bed is more than I expected. The satin covers, however, were not necessary. I am used to camping outdoors in the thickets with my horse sleeping to the drifting melody of machine gun fire," she added with a tight grin, exposing her unwillingness to break.

[Otto Wolff]

Watching as the guards cuffed the young woman, Otto could already see that the brief spot of imprisonment had done little to dampen the girl's spirits. She was still as venomous and defiant as ever and Otto arched his eyebrow, wondering if it would be of any use just trying to reason with her first. He so very much detested having to use force, but he realized that sometimes such things were the only way of making progress. "I highly doubt you are one to be true to an apology for a suspected French Resistance fighter," the woman spat out angrily and Otto sighed quietly, shaking his head in response. "Suspected? We have been way past suspecting for a good time now, Fräulein Wieserman. You have already admitted your own involvement in the French Resistance," Otto noted in his low, calm voice. This was of course, the truth, the girl was practically as good as dead if the officials so chose, although she might be also get sent to a concentration camp if she was lucky. Still, the Reich law stated that saboteurs and partisans could be shot without so much as a trial or a hearing, even if they were merely suspects. Germany was in war and there could be no tolerance for such criminals during these difficult times.

The next spiteful words from Lisa caused the guards to push the girl roughly against the wall and Otto placed his arms slowly behind his back as he observed the two men turning the now rather tired and filthy woman around. Just imagine if this silly little girl had been smart enough to stay away from Resistance dealings, she would have been free right now, maybe even enjoying a much easier life in America. What was it, that compelled her to take part in helping the resistance in a foreign country? Was she driven merely by some foolish ideals and youthful passion or was she doing it for political reasons? Otto observed the girl from the doorway of her cell and listened to her spouting more poisonous words at her captors, commending Otto on his uniform and clear-cut demeanor. Her words were dripping with sarcasm, of course, but they made a small smirk form in the corner of Otto's mouth. What a charming little thing, wasn't she? As venomous as a cobra and just as quick and eager to strike. Still, this particular little snake was hardly a danger to Otto and in his mind's eye he imagined his shiny black boot pressing mercilessly on the neck of this vile reptile, watching as it trashed about powerlessly. It was a fitting image. This indeed was why he had chosen to dedicate his life to hunting partisans. They were nothing more than nasty little reptiles skulking around in the grass, but Otto knew how to spot them and he was immune to their poison. He did his part in catching these annoying pests and keeping the wheels of the German war machine rolling. His dedication was for Germany alone and each time Otto found some things difficult to do, he reminded himself of this fact.

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can possibly stay awake through the entire interrogation, ah discussion," Lisa commented arrogantly, licking her lips as if she was actually enjoying her time here. Otto tilted his head to the side as he regarded the defiant young woman. "Oh, I will try my best to make sure that our discussion will not be overly boring for you, Fräulein Wieserman," the man promised, but Lisa had already gone to another lengthy explanation of her bladder infection and the standards of her prison cell. Otto listened to her venting, paying little attention to her words. The more the woman talked, the more certain the Kriminalkommissar was of the fact that she was getting quite desperate. She was only trying to gather the remaining scraps of her sanity and self-confidence with her defiant insults, but they were wasted on Otto Wolff. He remained emotionless as a stone wall, showing neither anger or offence. Instead he only stepped outside into the corridor once the guards dragged the woman out of the cell.

Otto made his way along the corridor to a door that had been already opened. The assistant had brought in Otto's papers earlier and made sure that the interrogation room had been cleaned up after the previous session. Sometimes blood tended to spatter on the floor and nobody hardly enjoyed working in such an environment. Otto had already decided that merely talking to the girl could prove quite pointless and would only waste his time, so as they reached the room, he motioned towards a large metallic hook attached to the ceiling. The guards removed the cuff from Lisa's other wrist for a moment and cuffed her hands together in front of her. After this they pulled the young woman's hands up, hooking the handcuffs on it and pulling on the chain so that the girl was forced to hold her hands up all the time. It would no doubt prove to be quite uncomfortable after a while. The guards moved to the door and closed it, although they still remained inside the room themselves and settled into standing next to the door. There was little in the room in terms of furniture, only two chairs next to a table, a separate door leading to some other room and some metallic hooks set on the wall. The Kriminalkommissar's boots scraped slightly on the floor as he walked to the wooden table to open up the files concerning Lisa Wieserman. He fished up his small, metal-framed reading glasses and perched them upon his nose to read the notes of previous interrogations. So far they had not used any force to enhance the effects of the interrogation, but ultimately that might be the only way to get anything out of the partisan.

Otto studied the files in silence for a while, but after a few minutes of going through random pages of the report, turned around to regard Lisa over his reading glasses. "Well, Fräulein Wieserman. I'm not an unreasonable man and I would much more prefer if we could settle this without having to resort to any unnecessary tactics. All I want is information of the other members of the Resistance you had dealings with. We could start with the matter of these explosives you used... I would like to know where the exchange of explosives took place and who delivered them to you. Someone must have instructed you in their use. We already know you took part in it, so don't bother trying to deny it, we are already past that phase. I want the names and the exact location of the exchange," the Kriminalkommissar said, his voice as calm and emotionless as always. The man arched his eyebrows expectantly, waiting to hear Lisa's answer.

[lisawieserman1941]

" Unnecessary tactics? Oh I do look forward to be witness to the infamous Gestapo's methods of torture. It would headline the pages of my journal," Lisa commented in her usual comical fashion.

"I gather raising my arms and making me stand are supposed to add to my discomfort. May I remind you they pale in comparison to the unmerciful symptoms of my illness. If you have any knowledge of medical conditions, I am sure you would be aware a bladder infection can reach the kidneys...and after that, natural causes would take my life. But how fortunate to save the German war effort from wasted bullets that would had been lavished on my person from the rifles of a firing squad, when you have in your midst the chance to allow the benefits of free bacteria do the job of my execution instead," she alleged in an impetuous verbal offensive.

"You are wasting your time, Herr Kriminalkommissar...I work alone. I just traded some of my Uncle's best wine for the detonating material on the black market. I have never spilled German blood. I happen to be fond of a Wehrmacht Soldat whom does not agree with the tyranny Germany is guilty of. They are all willing pawns of corruption and greed spilling out of Germany's reign of siege. Although women are not allowed to fight in battle in the American army, I have taken it upon myself to wreak havoc where I deem fit, and nothing you say or do will deter me from my sworn duty as a soldier branded partisan if I ever break free from my bondage. My sabotage saves American and their allies lives. You and your company of national socialists initiated this war, not us."

The American prisoner then dropped her head as a sudden wave of weakness sapped her energy reserves. Her lower back was on fire as the disease was beginning to progress to her kidneys from the added stress and toll on her body. The chains at least aided in keeping her from collapsing to the floor. Lisa passed a fleeting glance on the guards of whom helped her recall how striking her beloved looked in uniform. Her failing vision aided in the yearning hallucination as she abruptly succumbed to unconsciousness, dangling limply from the chains circumventing her hands.

[Otto Wolff]

Yet another swarm of words attacked the grave Kriminalkommissar, but the man stood motionless in his place and listened to what the young female partisan had to say. It was as if the girl thought that she could blanket herself with these sharp words, that mocking the Gestapo might make Otto furious enough to grant the partisan a quick end. Still, the only thing Otto could see was fear, no matter how resilient and defiant the girl tried to seem. Talking seemed to be the last way for her to keep her sanity and the more she spoke, the more certain Otto became of the fact that the girl was breakable. It might destroy her in the end, but that of course was of little interest to him. He knew better than to give in to his personal emotions, there was no room for that in his line of work. The war had changed many things and harsher measures needed to be used. Personally he did not enjoy making people suffer, but he would not shy away from his duties, either. If force needed to be used to obtain information, then he was ready to go to those lengths. The criminals had been given their chance to tell the truth, let them suffer if they chose to be so moronic. But maybe he would not have to resort to harsher methods with this one. He was going to try, at least.

Right now the girl was venting on about her unfortunate bladder infection, something Otto did not really wish to hear the details of. He was familiar with several medical conditions due to his studies, but mostly from the pharmaceutical point of view. When Lisa finally got to her actual point, Otto was more attentive again. She claimed to work alone and told the Gestapo officer that she had traded some wine for the explosives. A completely ludicrous tale, of course, but Otto let her rant on about how she was saving lives and doing her part in the war as if she was some big damn lone hero. She mentioned the German soldier once again and for a moment Otto was tempted to push this fact further to find out the name of the said soldier, if he even existed. But then again, it would be of little use to him, he would not threaten the life of a German soldier for some scrap of information. As if all of her resources had been spent on the ranting, the girl's head dropped down and she hung to the chains lifelessly, apparently unconscious. Otto sighed and glanced at one of the guards. "Erwecken Sie sie auf."

The taller and bulkier of the guards smirked and walked to the prisoner, grabbing the girl by her hair and slapping her in the face with the back of his hand. He did not stop there, even if the girl had regained consciousness once again, but pulled at the partisan's hair and gave her face a good three solid hits more. Otto observed the process silently, his dark eyes slightly narrowed and his face nothing but an emotionless mask. The guard pulled Lisa's head backwards to see if she was starting to feel more awake again. Otto waited until the guard glanced back at him and nodded to confirm that the American was able to hear the Gestapo officer's words again. The guard let go of the woman's hair and took a few steps back, ready to wake up the prisoner again if needed. Otto folded his arms in front of his chest and tilted his head slightly to the side. "Fräulein Wieserman... I admire your resilience, but from experience I can tell that it will not last for very long. Now... I can offer you medication and a transfer to a POW-camp, which in your case is a very gracious offer, indeed. You will escape this whole ordeal with your life and once the war is over, you will be able to return to your home country," Otto took a few steps towards the female prisoner as he spoke.

"I think this option sounds so much better than being confined to this place, dying a very slow and painful death if the infection should prove fatal. If it does not, then consider how long you are going to endure the isolation. We might even just choose to medicate you to keep you alive, there will be no firing squad waiting for you. Just endless years inside this delightful little facility. Imagine what it will be like, spending years in the same little room, denied of any human contact. I assure you that any thoughts of being a martyr or a hero will be quickly forgotten once the truth settles in," Otto's voice was low and calm and his voice did not hold any pity nor hatred. He was making himself appear as if he was merely a third party in the whole situation and was now offering Lisa a way out. "All you need to do is tell me what you know about the local resistance in the area. They are already doomed as it is, you remember what happened at the village. The Gestapo and SS are going through the entire area as we speak, maybe they have already even caught someone who will spill the beans on you. After that, this offer no longer stands. You have put up an admirable front, but the game has already been lost for you. You can still salvage the situation, you don't have to die here," Otto's jackboots made a scraping sound on the floor as the man moved closer to the prisoner. "Merely tell me how you got involved in the resistance dealings, who you talked to, what information was exchanged... If you do not tell it, then someone else will. So please, Fräulein Wieserman. There is no point in resisting anymore, just tell me what I need to know."


Translations:

"Erwecken Sie sie auf."
"Wake her up."

[lisawieserman1941]

Plagued by mounting exhaustion, Lisa slowly nodded to the Kriminalkommissar as he again presented her with the details in the formal inquest. The hits on her face invoked pent up anger as she cursed at the guard and spat at him as he repositioned himself across the other one. She did not, however, release the liquid contents from her mouth onto the interrogator as he was not proving to be uncivilized...yet. The prospect of lingering in solitary did hit a nerve as Wieserman pondered on the fate of her horse, Guardian, if the German army would abduct him for work, or slaughter him for rations. The intrusive thought of losing her stallion proved to be a weight on her shoulders that would eventually break her, since he was her constant companion and aided in the elected sabotage.

Lisa blinked once as the bleak reality was all settling in. But she could not give away the men whom had helped her in her private war against the Third Reich. They had become her comrades. The partisan decided to answer just a few questions, which she felt would do no harm to anyone. Wetting her lips to give verse, she readied herself to speak.

"It all started when I was bored from the isolation when my Uncle forbade me from the city because of my association with the soldiers. I could not speak French, and what little I learned could hardly hold a conversation. But I could communicate in German which attracted the locals of whom declared I was a collaborator. They spoke up to my Uncle in protest who then sent me home. I gather he was in a tight situation as it was with the town folks for painting enemy officers. He wanted to get the heat off him. To alleviate my boredom, I liberated his rifle hidden in the basement and initiated myself into the art of marksmanship. Unfortunately, I was arrested by a passing patrol who then escorted me back to Vichy. My Uncle told the Oberleutnant I was a high spirited trouble making Yankee, while he quickly apologized for not turning in his rifle since he forgot about it. They let him go because he painted portraits for the occupying forces, but I was forbidden to show my face in town by the Lieutenant, and was duly made aware future actions on my part of using a gun would be met with the cessation of my life from the smoking muzzle of an MP-40. Well, my defiant nature got the best of me, so I sold my Uncle's two best bottles of wine for a used Lee Enfield rifle with ammunition. From there I took my horse miles into the country where I continued to hone my skills. One day two French Resistance fighters introduced themselves to me. They spoke fair English so we could communicate well enough. They just gave me their code names, and asked if I would fancy joining the Resistance in sabotage. At first I did not agree not wishing to get in more trouble, but changed my tune after I was informed America had joined the war siding with the allies. So I drafted myself into the Resistance to exercise my new found hobby, and at the same time fight for my country as a patriot. I had nothing else to do with myself, so figured it would be my duty to join the giant fray of waring nations, unlike my Uncle, who works for the Germans to stay in business," Lisa answered in a weakened tonality, her breathing now labored from the lengthy summation.

"So, you see I did make good use of my Uncle's wine. But that's the truth whether you believe it or not," the young American addressed her interrogator, proud to admit her key position in neutralizing enemy fortifications, lofting a brow in a physical response awaiting a consecutive volley from of the grilling exchange.

[Otto Wolff]

The defiant demeanor of the American partisan cracked, even if just slightly, but it was enough for Otto to know that she could be pushed into making a full confession, even if it required some amount of work. The ominous Kriminalkommissar did not appear gleeful or triumphant as Lisa started to recount her tale of how she had ended up taking part in sabotage and hampering the German war effort. Otto Wolff merely stood in his place, callously listening to the young partisan and making mental notes of the more important points of her speech. The girl described herself as being a free-spirited and rebellious soul, telling the Gestapo officer how she had practiced on her uncle's rifle and after getting caught with the weapon by a German lieutenant, had later traded in wine for a Lee Enfield. Having been contacted by some of the local Resistance fighters, she had ended up agreeing to help them, wanting to fight for her country. Otto found the tale slightly unbelievable, but maybe it was just strange enough to be the truth, or at least part of the truth. It was clear she was leaving out many important details, such as the identities of the local Resistance people who had contacted her, at least according to her story. She had made no mention of the explosives she had used later on and all in all, her story held little if anything of interest to Otto. It was very vague, lacked any useful facts and had obvious, gaping holes in it.

Otto tilted his head to the side and considered the woman's story for a small while before nodding at one of the guards and pointing at the chains that were keeping the woman suspended in an uncomfortable position. The guard grunted, obviously not happy with the task, but of course complied and let the chains down. He even helped to slip the handcuffs off the hook, allowing for the girl to slump down on the concrete floor if she so chose. The guard still remained very close, ready to smack Lisa or grab her, should she decide to become too unruly. Otto paced a few steps towards the door and then turned around slowly to regard Lisa again. "That is a very interesting story... although I can already spot a few problems with it. Like for example, you having a German name and relatives in Vichy hardly makes you the number one candidate for French resistance to contact, now does it...? And yet you say that you were approached by two members of the resistance, quite out of the blue, no less. Why would they do this, I wonder? I would say that if anything, you would have only appeared as being suspicious and someone to certainly stay away from. Speaking German, having a German name, relatives in a French town co-operating with Germans... Even if you had ran into trouble with that Leutnant you mentioned, you got off the hook quite easily. Isn't it all just a bit too suspicious? Not really the most sensible choice for Resistance to contact," Otto raised a hand up to rub his chin and his dark eyes narrowed in deep thought. It was obvious that he had not bought the girl's story and that the interrogation would not be over quite so easily. This didn't mean that Otto wouldn't get the information he wanted to get, of this he was quite certain.

"Fräulein Wieserman... You must understand how truly generous the offer you have received today is. You will not get another chance after this interrogation and I'm not willing to trade your eventual freedom for information that is useless to me. Now, you must think very hard," Otto's gaze was fixed firmly on the young partisan and his voice was very low and neutral, void of any traces of either mirth or anger. "There is no use in protecting them, it is only a matter of time before they will end up just like you and even if you refuse to talk, they most certainly will not. Then it will be too late for you, there will be no other offers. You cannot help them, but you can help yourself before it's too late. You need to give me their names and descriptions and then you can be out of here. How does that sound to you?"

[lisawieserman1941]

Taking advantage of the discharge of her arms from the chains, however brief it may be, Lisa assumed a seat on the cold floor with legs crossed as she doubled over while a surging rush of body aches washed over her. In apparent pain by the inspection of her enemies, a hiss was all that was expelled till she collected herself. The American was failing in her futile venture as a human wall due to physical and mental degeneration. Her prized mount, a half Belgium thoroughbred cross, punctured her appraisal of the state of subjection. He was a soldier in his own right having saved Lisa's life on numerous occasions. The notion of taking her information to the grave was validating a reverent defensive.

Guardian's life is at stake, as is mine. Those men are probably a hundred miles from here by now. I know the news of my capture met the ears of their confidants. They must have. What would it hurt to speak of their code names. That man probably has no idea who they are. I am so tired. I don't know how much of this I can tolerate any longer, Lisa's private thoughts represented themselves as the logical choice to submit, yet her self-governing complexion was a barrier of barbed wire ushering her to take a front.

"I am half French but on my mother's side, so would it not be obvious I would take the name of my father? Being savvy as the French Resistance are, they would had found out he was German so I could learn to speak it. When the local talent saw me taken in by that squad of Germans, they might had assumed I had met with trouble. Even if they believed it was a ploy in trapping them to expose Resistance intelligence by asking if I would volunteer my services as a partisan, they would of sent men out to prove if it were so. And the fact I was cursing in American all the way home through the 5 mile trek back home about the rough treatment by the non-com at capture and how I wanted to shoot that Sergeant in the knee caps and use his own gun to take up his Lieutenant, would had convinced them enough I was on the level. I am sure they understand more English than speak it, even with a New York accent corrupting it. No actor can issue a play like that. They can see through them and your spies," Lisa retorted with a face stamped with aversion.

"So you want names, Herr Kriminalkommissar...? You ever hear of Tiger and Bell Tower? Well they be them. Don't bother me with their physical makeups. They are your average Frenchman; dark haired, brown eyes, slender build, usual height," the young woman attached to her previous charge.

"Please let me sleep...I am so tired..." she implored him, then lied down on her back and closed her eyes.

[Otto Wolff]

The look in the girl's eyes told Otto that she was cracking under pressure - maybe not enough to come out with important information or even the actual truth, but enough to start talking more openly. When people started talking, they could be pushed and prodded into providing more information more easily. It was more than the previous interrogators had achieved, anyway, they had not managed to uncover any information whatsoever while talking to the young partisan. He had already heard the story of how she had gotten involved with the French resistance, a story which had seemed to conveniently lack a fair amount of details. Otto knew how easy it was to dart and weave around the truth, to only give out details which mattered little, to fill one's story with insignificant little things to make it, at least seemingly, better.

What the criminals did not often realize was that Otto had been trained to pick up all those little details and to examine them closely to reveal gaps in the story. He would often return to something the detainee had mentioned earlier and question the suspect about it. The person would often find themselves unable to answer and with that realization their resistance and determination would start crumbling very rapidly. And if that was not enough, the Gestapo officials had their own means of persuading the suspects into talking - means that hardly could be called very pleasant. Otto himself held a fair amount of contempt for such methods and he did not consider them to be very effective. Certainly, some people were more easily controlled by their fear of pain, but such people could just as easily start spouting out the very words the interrogator wanted to hear, truthful or not.

Still, no matter what the girl said, her answers hardly provided him with anything useful . He wanted to hear names, places and details instead of these rather fanciful tales of being adopted by the local Resistance. He had enough experience with hunting down the Resistance to know that their trust was not easily won and that they were smart to keep things that way. One wrong word could spell doom on the entire network and not only the partisans themselves - entire towns had suffered from the wrath of the Germans when they had been found guilty of assisting the Resistance. Sometimes it did not even take any proof - the mere suspicion was more than enough. Fear kept the locals in line. They might have been patriotic, but often not enough to risk the lives of their families.

Otto's eyes narrowed when, instead of hearing actual names, he received meaningless code names and descriptions that helped him little. The girl could not be so ignorant, she must have known more about the Resistance than she was letting him understand. Her final words drifted off as the young woman pleaded for a chance to get some sleep. Otto straightened his back and nodded at the guard who was keeping close watch nearby. The uniformed guard immediately grabbed Lisa by her hair, slapping her roughly on the face to make sure she would not fall asleep. The guard continued grasping Lisa's hair and the Kriminalkommissar stepped slowly closer, his black, shining boots coming to a stop just a mere step away from the young partisan. "Fräulein Wieserman, I believe you can do so much more," the tall man's voice was calm, yet startlingly dangerous. It was clear that if the Gestapo officer did not feel content with the amount and quality of information, something very unpleasant would happen soon. "Now... This is your final chance. Unfortunately I'm quite a busy man and I have to hand over this interrogation to another German official, one who will not be as patient and understanding as I am. If you give me the names of the Resistance contacts and the details of your meetings and communications, you will be out of here and get treated by a German doctor. After that you will get transferred to a camp, just like I promised."

Otto tilted his head and observed the girl, no hint of either remorse or pity in his eyes. He did not enjoy the girl's suffering, but he did not appear to feel guilty about it, either. Otto was merely doing his job and performing his duties for his country - the suffering of an individual did not really weigh on his shoulders at all. The same cold, clinical expression still remaining on the grave man's features, he placed his arms behind him, grasping his wrist. "Of course, if you choose to give me only useless information, it will be good many hours until you leave this room again. And I assure you - you will be feeling far worse after the next interrogator has been through with you."

The guard yanked at Lisa's hair painfully, forcing the girl to look up at the Kriminalkommissar. The tall, dark-haired man loomed over the girl, serious and unmoving, much like one of those foreboding stone gargoyles one would often find perching on the roofs of old churches.

"So what will it be, Fräulein?"

[lisawieserman1941]

Only the pain stemming from her scalp as her tresses were violently yanked by the Gestapo's subordinate, following the explosive shock of the mounting contusions imposed upon her, had kept Lisa from the edge of an unconscious quandary. The image the Kriminalkommissar was donating was as effective as pushing his Luger against her brain, while the threat of another interrogator in his stead readied itself as a decomposing reality check in the challenge to utter the ordered testimony.

Meeting his grave carriage, the American's spirit felt trapped in an expiring body, her brazen will, trampled under her brittle resolve. Lisa then tried to hold back vomit that left her insides from her persistent surreal nightmare, and rather than offending her already riddled senses, chose to swallow it as she gagged in reflex of the repugnant bile. A sequence of coughs only spurred her harder to reveal the truth, even if the fate of the two men would rest on innocent bystanders. The young partisan crept to the eventuality that only with life could she fight against the tyranny which served as the core of Germany. She chose to live.

"Their names are Jon and Claude. Jon, the leader, is Tiger. I was told it was my duty as an ally to join their cause, and the fact I had a horse would give me an advantage in sabotage. I spoke of the number of soldiers in town, the officers, and of their locations, even their defenses. I frequently visited the town in disguise gathered from my Aunt's clothing," the languished women finished in a subdued groan between short breaths.

Without any hints of warning of inspiration, Lisa expressed a scaled loathing in meeting his demands, as she switched to German for the others to understand.

"Sie Schweine. Sie wissen nichts des Widerstands. Sie sind eine erreichte Armee. Frauen-Krieger sind Ihre schlechtesten Feinde!" Lisa hollered through her last reserves of strength in her final call in her resistance to ensure she had not yet been defeated, and had possessed the hope to fight on, even though she had consented to his demands.


**********
Translations:

"Sie Schweine. Sie wissen nichts des Widerstands. Sie sind eine erreichte Armee. Frauen-Krieger sind Ihre schlectesten Feinde."

"You pigs. You know nothing of the Resistance. They are an accomplished army. Women warriors are your worst enemies."

[Otto Wolff]

A pair of dark and emotionless eyes stared at the young female partisan who now sat on the floor, weak and broken. The woman was coughing now and it was clear that she would not last for much longer under the current conditions. Otto merely waited for an answer, almost prepared to leave the girl into the hands of the next interrogator although he would have loathed to admit defeat. Of course, he had not been bluffing when he had said that the other Gestapo official would be using far more persuasive means to get the truth out of the partisan. This particular interrogator was not actually known for his quick wit, but he knew how to make someone's life unbearably painful. Otto was not sure if pain would be the right incentive to get any information out of the partisan and even if it was, the next interrogator might end up killing the girl sooner or later.

There was determination in Lisa's eyes when she finally started talking again, but this time Otto felt himself relaxing slightly. Here were the names, accompanied by some more useful details of the girl's involvement in the French Resistance. Otto listened to her words very closely and only nodded occasionally as he made sure to memorize each important detail so he could write them down later and have the information evaluated. The Kriminalkommissar glanced at the guard who was still holding the girl by her hair and nodded at him. The guard glared at the young woman almost hatefully, but released his hold and stood up straighter once again. The guard only barely managed to contain his urge to kick the partisan - he would have so loved to display his opinion of such low-life criminals, but he did not dare do it when the Gestapo was present.

Otto was just about to turn around and to tell the guards to take the girl back to her cell, when Lisa burst into a defiant volley of words, this time speaking in German so that everyone in the room understood just what she was saying. "Sie Schweine. Sie wissen nichts des Widerstands. Sie sind eine erreichte Armee. Frauen-Krieger sind Ihre schlechtesten Feinde!" the girl snarled, but her desperate final stand was wasted on Otto. The tall Kriminalkommissar even smiled slightly, finding the sudden outburst quite amusing. "How very charming of you. They have not been too accomplished so far, seeing how many of your kind are currently withering away in these cells," the man glanced around and shrugged. "And as much as I would enjoy continuing our lovely discussion, I fear I'm on somewhat of a schedule. I will have a doctor visit you shortly in your cell. It has been a pleasure," Otto promised, but he did not mention anything about sending Lisa to a POW-camp. He was not going to send her anywhere, at least not until her information had been checked for validity.

Not bothering to address the girl further, the Gestapo officer turned his back at her, making his way back to the table and searching for his glasses to examine the case file. The guards glanced at each other briefly, but figured that it was safe to escort the prisoner back to her cell since the interrogation was obviously over. The more zealous one of the guards grabbed Lisa harshly by her arm, dragging her back up to her feet and paying little regard to the fact that the harsh motion might have been painful for the young woman - in fact, this seemed to be his sole purpose. Otto had turned his back at them by now and did not witness the rude treatment of the girl, although it did not appear as if he would have really cared, either. The Gestapo officer was scribbling words down on the edge of one of the papers - as far as he was concerned, he had obtained the information he had been asked to and he hoped that he could close the case soon. Other matters in France required his attention and he wanted to get back to them as soon as possible. Pushing and prodding the girl rudely out of the room, the guards forced her into the bleak corridor, starting the journey back towards her dreary cell. Maybe the forlorn walls of Fresnes prison would be the last thing she would ever see, after all.

[lisawieserman1941]

Dragged through the halls by the inky black uniformed guards, objectionable in their methods of restraint, as if their prisoner was resigned from life, Lisa was virtually dumped into the cell, crawling at death's aperture to the straw bed, too weak to walk in her frail juncture of the humiliating change of events. The cage proffered itself as the genesis of her degradation. One needs physical fervency to tackle the SS in their dominating quests for detail.

Before the door was shut and locked, the older guard, a Sergeant, leveled his sub-machine gun at what wasted in his sights.

"I should kill you for attempting to escape, and save the Fatherland any food and medical assistance that would have been better spent on the soldiers at the front! American pig of a spy!" he sailed at her with a lust of rancor scorching his threat, his accent strong and daunting.

The partisan managed to accord the ill-tempered soldier with a smirk, and even sent him an exchange unbecoming a woman of her upbringing, baiting him in a concise candid appeal.

"Well then switch off that blasted safety and depress the damn trigger, Sergeant. Here is my heart, in case you forgot where it is on a woman," Lisa both insulted and dared the battle hardened guard as she opened her shirt, expending no embarrassment, her right index finger pointing to her left bra by the inside where her voluptuous breast peaked out.

"You would be doing me a favor. A concentration camp awaits my future. If you don't kill me, I will give those bastard camp guards a reason. But they would have the kill to etch on their weapons. You haven't got the guts! Nazi goon! Leave me alone and bugger off with your sadistic side kick!" Lisa waged in acidity, then violently coughed as if her lungs could not keep up the pace any longer.

The Sergeant held back the Corporal who was about to kick her in the ribs as he translated for him. The Sgt. casually slid back the bolt of his Schmeisser at fire readiness, carefully taking aim at the inside of the prisoner's right thigh halfway above the knee from his activated burp gun.

"WAIT! You can't shoot me!" Was all Lisa could submit in protest before she was ruthlessly shot.

A series of hot lead then pierced her leg as a trembling hand was instinctively drawn against the bloody wounds. She remembered seeing the spent cartridges jumping out of the ejector situated at the top of the gun. The non-com clenched his teeth against the recoil and raw power of the MP-40, as Lisa was expecting death was imminent, cursing her explosive temper. The partisan then cried out in pain, rocking back and forth, curled in a ball following the four bullets that seared into her wan giving flesh. Her face was a mask of utter surprise and misery. The door was still open so any officer could had been at ear's length from the echo surely marking its way up the corridor. But none responded.

"I may not be allowed to take you out, American....but I I left a calling card, courtesy of German advanced weaponry. Enjoy your stay at the camp. I know some of the guards where you will be taken, and will duly put in a word of what you just told me and my comrade, to make your stay; as you say, more comfortable," he gave voice in both a stony and sardonic manner, gravitating a seedy glare onto her.

"We will win the war and you will die there....forgotten and lost," he promised his victim, bearing an exultant grin, waving the Corporal on as he leered at the woman and winked to fuel her further in her agonizing plight. They then left the woman there to bleed, a death sentence if the doctor did not show up in time, the guard never telling his superior he shot the prisoner.

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post:

CP:
Herr Wolff: 9CP

Miss Wieserman: 7CP


~Dan