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Oh dear - the cursed flu strikes another writAAR. Get well soon old chap.
 
Canaris.jpg

Vice Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, head of the Abwehr. At least for now
October 13th – 1935 Berlin.

In his office in the Abwehr headquarters, Admiral Canaris was deeply engrossed in reading the latest intelligence report from his second-in-command Oberstleutnant Hans Oster. It was a detailed summary of everything the service had put together over the last month and Canaris always found his second’s level of detail and analysis to be not just spot on but sometimes even faintly prophetic, if one could use such a word. As head of the Abwehr, Canaris wasn’t as deeply in touch with day-to-day operations, as he would like to be and to some extent, he depended on the monthly reports, to keep an accurate view of the world around him, at least so far as it came to what the Abwehr found interesting.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by the phone on his desk ringing. At first Canaris looked at it somewhat annoyed, as he had given strict orders never to be disturbed, when he was reading these reports. He needed time and quiet to formulate the moves and countermoves of his service, in reply to what happened in the world and that was an impossible task, if he was interrupted all the time.
Still, his secretary was more than competent and it would take something of overwhelming importance to make him disobey Canaris’ command. He picked up the phone.

Canaris here, what is it?” He listened for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Put him through.
After a few moments, he was connected to the officer at the door, who had made a rather frantic call to Canaris’ secretary.

This is Canaris.” He said simply, listening to the somewhat shaken man’s reply.
I don’t care who he is, he will have to make an appointment, like everyone else.” He fell silent again, hearing the officer pass on the answer. There were a few moments where nothing happened and then the officer spoke again, his voice sounding just a bit panicky. “What? No you can’t send him up, I told you to make an appointment.
The officer replied apologetically and Canaris sighed. “Very well then.” He put down the receiver, making a mental note to have the officer replaced at the earliest opportunity. No one, who couldn’t deal with a singly upstart SS-Officer ought to be working for the Abwehr.

Before long, he heard the approaching steps in the hallway outside. By the sound of them, more than one man was coming down the polished wooden floors, floors which Canaris had always appreciated for their ability to warn him of arrivals, giving him just a few seconds or minutes heads-up, depending on the visitors. This time however, seconds were all he got, as the door were opened, not by his secretary, sitting in the office just outside, but by the officer in question, from his insignia, Canaris made him out to be an SS-Standartenführer, or colonel, as the regular wehrmacht equivalent would be. Behind him, much to Canaris surprise, he saw two members of the Leibstandarte, each armed with a sub-machinegun, which hung across their right shoulder. Still, that the officer had dared bringing such weapons here and soldiers, SS or not, spoke volumes of his character and Canaris felt just a little less sure of himself, as he looked up to appraise the SS-officer.

So, what can I help you with Colonel?” He asked, in a slightly condescending voice, using the wehrmacht title, to try and slightly annoy the officer. If a person was annoyed, that put them at least slightly off balance, which in turn meant that Canaris, an expert in these kinds of tricks, would hold the upper hand.
Instead of replying outright, the colonel took out a piece of paper from inside his coat and placed it on the desk. Canaris picked it up and unfolded it. As he quickly read the paper, his sense of security and arrogance slowly drained from him and when he handed back the paper, he had a grim look on his face.

I am here for Hans Oster, Herr Admiral.” The officer replied then. “Yesterday, several of my men came here to arrest him and nothing has been heard of them since.” Canaris shook his head.
I wasn’t here yesterday, but no-one has told me of any members of the SS coming here. Besides, Oster isn’t here at the moment.” Suddenly, a nagging suspicion entered the back of Canaris’ mind. His second had been slightly vague about his movements today and he had rather urgently required a vacation, claiming a family crisis.
Where is he, Herr Admiral?” The voice was impatient and Canaris registered a hint of strongly repressed anger.
Spandau. He is interrogating a prisoner there, a spy caught yesterday…” As he spoke the last part, the various puzzle pieces came together in his mind. Several odd things Oster had said or done over time, his various successes and failures, the former far outweighing the latter, but sometimes, a failure had happened, when everything clearly pointed to success and other things, which seen in the right light, the light which Canaris only now turned on mentally, showed that something was definitely not right.
He sat back in his chair, as the SS-officer was already leaving. Canaris was vaguely aware that the man had saluted him, but for the moment he felt completely unable to either reply or even care about it.

Oh Hans, you fool. he thought. What have you done?

To Canaris, it was certain that at this point, Oster was now busy interrogating, not spies as he had claimed, but captured SS men, now held in the basements of Dachau prison. Canaris knew that no-one would question Oster about any prisoners brought there, so it was highly possible to keep them locked away for quite some time, without anyone the wiser. Still, Canaris thought, it was a ridiculous move, which made little sense, as Oster must clearly be aware that he had very little time to escape in, before the next group came looking. What could possibly be important enough to risk staying in Berlin for, when the wolves were at his tail? Canaris didn’t know and he put the thought aside. Right now he had to make sure this didn’t backfire on himself. He knew Himmler and Heydrich had their eyes on the Abwehr and Canaris had worked tirelessly, preventing them from taking over control. This might be the last straw they needed, unless he did something urgently about it.

Meanwhile, down on the street, below his office, Dietrich Beyer came running out of the Abwehr headquarters and nearly jumped into the car, the soldiers close behind him, although they in turn headed for one of the trucks. Within seconds, the entire cortege of vehicles was on the move, save two trucks, which slowly emptied of soldiers, led by a young Rottenführer, who grimly consulted a list of names, he had been given earlier by Beyer. As he entered the Abwehr, giving the officer on duty yet another unpleasant surprise that day, Franz Reiniger simply placed the list in front of him. “These men are all to be arrested for treason and brought to me here.” He said, his voice hard and sure with the knowledge of his superior’s backing. “You do not want to have me search for them myself, do you?” As the officer on duty glanced on the hard-looking men of the Leibstandarte, all armed with sub-machineguns and all looking very much ready for business, he slowly shook his head.

Good.” Reiniger said. “Get going.”​
 
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Well, the wooly feeling receded a bit yesterday and today and this is the result. :)

I tried something slightly different, as I had the perspective moved from Beyer to Canaris for this update and I'm eager to know whether or not you like it.
Secondly, unless someone has a better idea, I'm going to use Italized script to resemble thoughts, however whether or not I should color these as well, I am not sure. We'll see what happens I suppose, but as always, feedback, constructive critisism, etc.. is all more than welcome. :)

And thank you for your well-wishings. They played a not-insignificant part in my determination to post an update while I was able to think at least marginally clearly.. I don't know how long I will be 'out of game' yet, as I am still sick, but hopefully not for long.

- Rob
 
Hrm. I still wonder who gave the SS the information. Other than that I believe Oster is in for a rude surprise.
 
Perhaps. ;)

As indicated, he must at least know something by now, but whether it is enough, we'll see in the next update.. Which, incidentally, I'm working on as we speak..
It must be the fever.. Making me write this much.. ;)

As for the information, I kind of worked off what i could find on how the Gestapo usually worked. They had unlimited power, as long as their actions were in line with the wishes of the leadership. They simply picked up people, who they considered troublemakers, political enemies and so forth, without any need for evidence of any kind. So I assumed that if they had connected Oster with the network of known spies somehow and lets face it: everyone and their mother reported to the Gestapo, that's how they functioned, they might be able to put together enough 'coincidentals' to suspect something wasn't right.

Ordinarily, a person of Oster's rank would probably require more than just hunches and snippets of information to arrest, but Beyer's life is on the line here and he has to take some chances.. Besides, he has that piece of paper, he continually waves around and with a keen sense of duty, I believe it may alltogether be enough to make him send out someone to arrest Oster.

Besides, if you had all the information available to the Gestapo from their countless informers and put together a really skilled team, whose sole task it was to link all the odds and ends together, I'm proof positive they'd find something to incriminate.. Well, anyone to be honest. And since Himmler and Canaris have played their little 'game' for a while now, I'm pretty certain there would be quite extensive files on all Abwehr personel in the Gestapo files, as Himmler would get as much info as possible, to better his hand, so to speak..

All in all, while I decided to go a little easy on the exact details of the matter, I believe it possible that enough information could've been pooled together to incriminate Oster.. Especially as it was known that someone at the Abwehr had to be a traitor.. (Remember the agent in an earlier update)..

And as far as I could see, while Oster was indeed working against the Nazi-government at this time, Canaris was still generally supportive of Hitler.. At least somewhat. Hence, I decided on using Oster as the 'enemy' this time.. How it will affect Canaris is an entirely different matter of course.
 
BerlinPrison.jpg

Spandau Prison, Berlin. Evidence of the old saying: Don't judge a book by its cover.

October 13th – 1935 Berlin.

Kurt groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He hurt all over and he longed to just lie down and pass into sleep. But he couldn’t, not least because he was tied to a chair in a cold basement. He didn’t know where he was, as he had been knocked unconscious by his captors the night before and only woken up, when a bucket of icy water had been thrown at him. It felt like it had happened years ago, that he and his contingent of SS-guards, ten in all, had come to the Abwehr, where they were told that their target wasn’t there at all. They had been given an address in one of the industrial districts, a warehouse it had turned out, where, or so he had been told, Oster was currently conducting an investigation.

Mauer you old fool. He mentally scolded himself. It was a trap and you walked straight into it like a kid fresh out of school.
They had arrived at the warehouse and proceeded inside with caution, although in hindsight, he had been overconfident on account of the troops he had with him. Much good they did. He snarled at himself. Out of nowhere guns had fired, cutting down his SS-guards before they even got the chance to fight back. Next thing he knew, several plain-clothed men had appeared from all around him and knowing the futility of fighting back, he had surrendered. He felt bile rising in his throat at that thought. Giving in like an old woman Mauer. The pride of the Gestapo indeed. That had been the last he remembered of yesterday, or at least he thought so. He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was an even what day it was, although he suspected he hadn’t been here a full day yet. But the constant questions and various violent responses to his continuous silence had served to disorient him, which he knew from his own experiences as an interrogator, were the very purpose of them.

How much does the Gestapo know, Herr Mauer?” The question had been repeated several times now, but so far Kurt had refused to answer. He may not be a dashing young agent, immune to pain and suffering, but Kurt fancied that instead he was something of an old, scarred dog, stubborn enough to take it.
They had found out his name and the fact that he was a Gestapo agent, not an SS-major, from the credentials in his pocket. Luckily he had forgotten his valet at the office, so they hadn’t gotten any other information about him yet.
He didn’t answer the question, but raised his head instead, which felt like it took all his remaining strength and tried to look arrogantly into the eyes of his captors, two younger Abwehr agents and an older one, who was obviously in charge. It wasn’t Oster, but Kurt was too tired to wonder too much about that, even though he hadn’t seen the man at all, since his capture.
The next thing he knew, a bucket of cold water was thrown into his face again, the rude shock of it, making him jerk upright in the chair. He was naked, so the cold water running down his body chilled him to the bone in an instant and the coldness of the room he was in, some kind of basement he presumed, did little to lessen the effect of the water. Something, he was quite sure, his captors were well aware off.
We can stop this, anytime you want Herr Mauer.” It was the oldest of the three agents, the only one who had spoken so far.
Just tell us how much the Gestapo knows.

From somewhere, Kurt managed to gather together the courage to smile, which made him cough, his strength being spent hours ago and his body unable to really give him anything more to work with, not least because of the cold.
The Ge…” He managed to say, before bending forward as his body convulsed with coughing. He wasn’t young anymore, in fact while technically he was only fifty-two, he felt much older than that. Working for the Gestapo tended to do that to a man, at least to most men.
When finally, the coughing receded, Kurt fell backwards into the chair again, wheezing.
The Gestapo…” He whispered through his ragged breath, “The Gestapo knows everything.” He felt the world go black, as he somehow managed a ragged laugh, which took the last of his strength from him. He welcomed the darkness.

Verdamt!” The agent in charge of the interrogation barked. “Get some more water, we need to wake him again.” One of the men nodded and quickly left the room, his footsteps soon lost on the hallway outside.
The other of the younger agents looked at his superior. “Maybe we should wait?” He asked. “He might not survive it, in his condition.” The older agent eyed him angrily. “And what do you think will happen, if we don’t get the information now?” He half asked, half barked at the younger man. “The Oberstleutnant was quite clear in his orders and I don’t intend to disobey him. But perhaps you don’t consider orders to be important Heinz? Is that it?” The younger man backed away, hid hands held apologetically in front of him.

I’m sorry.” He said, “I didn’t mean…” He was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps outside the door. Moments later, it was opened by the third agent. “The SS is here!” He yelled at them, panic clearly evident in his voice. “We have to get out of here!
A string of curses was the imminent reply from the oldest of the three, who then pointed at Kurt.
Pick him up, we have to take him with us.” Reluctantly, the two agents moved to Kurt and quickly untied him from the chair. One of them lifted him up and placed him across his shoulders.
How long do we have?” The older agent asked.
Perhaps ten minutes sir.” Came the reply from the man, who had been sent for water. “The guard who told me about them said they were only just entering the compound.” The older agent nodded.

Very well then, we can still get out through the backstairs. We’ll hole up there and wait till they’re well inside and then get out in the car.
The three men hurried as much as they were able with their unconscious prisoner in tow, towards the set of backstairs leading up from the basement. As the SS had only just arrived, they wouldn’t reach this stair for quite some time, especially since, or so the three men believed, the prison staff wouldn’t aid them beyond what they absolutely had to, being paid quite handsomely by the Abwehr to keep them helpful and incurious as to what happened below. Now that the prison wasn’t used by the Gestapo anymore, the Abwehr had found it useful to have a set of very discreet surroundings, in which to have ‘talks’ with people they would like to get information from.
The minutes passed by, as the three men made their way up the stairs and through the prison to the back exit, where their car was parked. As they got to the door however, a single glance outside told them they were too late, as about fifteen black SS-troops stood guard over the vehicle.

The agent, the older one, quietly closed the door and considered his options.
Perhaps one of the staffers’ cars can be made… available.” He mused. Not being able to think of any other solutions just then, he motioned for the two other men to follow him, as he turned to walk back from where he came. Just as he passed the stairs down to the cellar, he heard voices and footsteps below, indicating that their time had almost run out.
Hurry.” He whispered urgently and began to half-run down the hall. It was soon evident however, that as long as they had to carry Kurt, they couldn’t make enough speed to avoid capture. So much to his disappointment, the older agent motioned for his subordinates to leave the Gestapo agent behind.

After that they made much better speed and had very nearly reached the third entrance, this one leading to the staff parking, when a barked “Halt!” followed by a burst from a sub-machinegun made them stop dead in their tracks. Chagrined, they trio turned around, to find a single SS-trooper standing behind them. Obviously the man had only just stepped out from a nearby room and by the look of him, was not only surprised to have found the people he looked for, but possibly also slightly worried that he was alone, at least it looked like that and the older agent decided that it was the only chance they would ever get, as he very slowly, his movements semi-hidden behind his two subordinates, reached for his gun.

I wouldn’t do that.” The hard voice came from just behind and the agent turned quickly, half pulling his gun out, but seeing what or rather who were behind him, he slowly let his hand fall, finally giving up.
Before he could say anything, another pair of soldiers arrived, this time from the direction where he and his men had come, scant moments before.

We found the Sturmbahnführer, Herr Standartenführer. He is alive, but in very bad shape.” One of the soldiers called out and the agent felt dread slowly entering his mind, as he saw the cold, angry eyes of the officer in front of him, slowly turn to regard him.
What is your name agent?” He asked and despite himself, the agent answered.
Werner, Herr Standartenführer.” He answered, suddenly feeling very, very mortal. “Werner August. Listen, we only foll…” He was interrupted by the officer holding up a warding hand. “My name is Dietrich Beyer, Herr August.” The officer said. “Sturmbahnführer Mauer is a very close friend of mine.” At that, August felt his knees weaken slightly. “Let us go somewhere, were we can talk in private.

With those innocent-sounding words, Beyer waved his troops into action.
Ashen-faced and trembling slightly, August and his two subordinates followed. They didn’t have any choice.​
 
Finally had time to read the updates, intriguing as always. Keep up the good work :D.
 
Thank you :) I'll certainly try.. ;)

Still, I do have the flu, so while from time to time my mind seems to work on a coherent enough level to allow me to make some updates, as seen above, I can't promise anything for the next week or so.. Besides, if I've learnt anything it is that the fewer promises you make, the fewer you break.. I consider that a lesson well learnt.. ;)