The sa dimly lit room where Paul t Heydrich for the first ti.
Four n were seated around a small wooden table, placed there recently.
The first one being Paul, now clad in the typical Gestapo uniform, next to him Heydrich bearing the sa attire.
Opposite of them were two older n, one being General Sperrle and the other one being another notable figure Paul recognized, wearing a Luftwaffe uniform.
"But Oberst von Richthofen, how can you be sure the traitor isn’t one of your n?" Heydrich asked, with a hint of venom in his voice.
"My n are loyal, their hearts beating for Germany, I can guarantee..." Richthofen began.
"What about you, Oberst?" Heydrich asked. "Muller scread of an Oberst in his last monts. Why can’t it be you?"
Richthofen slamd his fist onto the table, making it shake. "I will not allow such impudence from a re watchdog."
"A watchdog?!" Heydrich asked, enraged.
Before Heydrich could continue, another voice erupted like a boiling volcano. "ENOUGH! Section Chief Heydrich, Oberst von Richthofen. We are on the sa side, do not forget that. I brought all of you here because I trust you and because I know none of you are the traitor," Sperrle shouted, his head red with anger.
"Either way the Gestapo will conduct a thorough investigation of the Luftwaffe within the Condor Legion, you can’t change that," Heydrich said stubbornly.
"That’s your right," Sperrle said.
Richthofen only shook his head in response.
"Your n don’t have anything to fear if they are innocent, Herrn Oberst," Paul said, finally speaking.
"I trust in that, Major," Richthofen said, mustering Paul from head to toe. "I trust you, but not your watchdog."
"Richthofen!" Sperrle called him to discipline.
Richthofen only raised his hands in defeat.
Paul pointed towards the piece of paper lying centrally on the table. "Now that we have our list of suspects, we will act and we will do so fast. There aren’t that many soldiers with the rank Oberst within the Condor Legion." Paul looked towards Heydrich, with murderous intent in his eyes. "Heydrich and I will find the traitor by dawn of today."
Sperrle nodded. "I trust you won’t disappoint, Jeager."
"Of course," Paul answered, already standing up.
Paul and Heydrich walked through the door, closing it behind them. Two guards stationed outside followed them.
"A disgusting fellow, that Heydrich," Richthofen said.
Sperrle did not answer, although he did not deny it, too.
"Major Jeager instead, is as impressive as the rumours say. I like him," Richthofen said.
"With that I agree. But I don’t like the combination," Sperrle said, glancing at the door.
Back in the army barracks
A group of n clad in black were walking down the aisle, soldiers casting them fearful gazes, whispering or making way quickly.
They stopped before an office.
Paul read the sign. "Oberst Schmidtz."
Heydrich nodded before the n pushed the door open, storming inside the office.
Paul and Heydrich walked after them, their pace not as quick. When they entered the room, two Gestapo mbers were already flanking the enraged Oberst left and right. Others were already searching the desk and the half-open cupboards.
"What is the aning of this?" the Oberst asked, barely containing himself.
Heydrich looked around, watching his n before pulling out a docunt from his breast pocket. "Section Chief Heydrich, Gestapo. We are here by the authority of the state and are authorized by General Sperrle to conduct an investigation regarding a mole inside the Condor Legion."
The Oberst looked at them confused, watching the n searching through his things, powerless to do anything, with the two n behind him each placing a firm hand onto his shoulders, hindering him from standing up.
"What about the fellow behind you? Is he your superior? Why doesn’t he introduce himself?" the Oberst asked in protest.
Paul did not mind him; he stood there motionless, towering like a silent weapon.
Heydrich too did not answer and walked towards one of his n who had signalled sothing to him.
The Gestapo officer had a silk sack in his hands, found in one of the cupboards behind a false floor.
"What do we have here, Oberst?" Heydrich asked expectantly, not even waiting for an answer, already opening the sack.
"A necklace?" Heydrich asked, confused, turning around to the slightly sweating Oberst.
"Well... you know..." he stamred. "Fine, it’s a present I stole for my wife from so Spaniard’s ho. I apologize—"
Heydrich turned around, giving Paul an annoyed look.
The Gestapo continued its search, not finding anything of interest.
"What happens now? Will you arrest ?" the Oberst asked, his posture sinking.
Heydrich sighed. "We are not here for such cris. You can keep your necklace and your shoulder straps. In return, we ask for absolute discretion regarding this matter. Do you understand, Oberst?"
The Oberst looked surprised. "Yes, Section Chief, I won’t tell anyone about this."
"Good." Heydrich turned around, collecting his n again.
The group walked out, closing the door behind them, leaving stacks of papers and half-open drawers.
Paul crossed out the na on his paper: Oberst Schmidtz.
"Logistics Office, Oberst Klausemann," Paul read out.
The group stord the office once again, finding a group of people inside.
"Gestapo! Everyone besides Oberst Klausemann, OUT!" Heydrich shouted.
The officers quickly left.
The confused Oberst asked them, "Gestapo? What have I done to deserve such treatnt?"
"You are under investigation," Heydrich answered simply, watching his n once again spreading chaos throughout the office.
"Is this about Major Jeager? Is he alive?" Oberst Klausemann asked, with an eyebrow raised.
"It is. Do you want to confess anything?" Heydrich asked plainly.
"I don’t. I was doing my normal work, as I already told General Sperrle," Klausemann said. "But what about Major Jeager? I am worried."
Heydrich narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so interested? As far as I know, you and him didn’t have any personal connection."
"Well, he is a major reason for our advance. Without it, it will be more difficult, and to be honest, I admire him a bit," Klausemann said, folding his hands.
After half an hour, Heydrich saw the shaking of his officers’ heads.
"Well, it seems like everything is in order, Major Klausemann. Thank you for your cooperation."
Paul, who stood in the background, his face unidentifiable, turned to leave together with Heydrich.
"Please convey Major Jeager, if he is still alive, my get well soon wishes. It’s truly a sha to get shot while eating breakfast."
Heydrich turned slightly before nodding and leaving through the door.
After walking a few steps, Paul stopped before him, the vein on his temple bulging strongly.
"How? How does he know that I was shot at breakfast? We have never told anybody the ti of the incident and obviously not such specifics." Paul turned around.
Heydrich’s eyes widened. "THAT BASTARD!"
Heydrich ran back, kicking the door open again with force.
"KLAUSEMANN! YOU TRAITOR!" he shouted, pulling out his pistol.
But then gunfire erupted from within, throwing Heydrich backwards.
The trained Gestapo n reacted quickly, pulling out their Luger pistols nearly simultaneously, firing back.
Paul pulled the bleeding Heydrich back, assessing his condition.
"Only a graze," Paul said, helping him up.
After Paul saw that Heydrich was alright, he pulled out his own pistol, shooting too.
There were shots coming from three different places. Three people? Paul thought, shooting at one revealing himself to shoot. He hit him twice in the chest, making him collapse.
When Paul analyzed the situation, he quickly shouted, "Overwhelm them!"
The Gestapo n rushed in, shooting wildly at the thick oak table and the door, where the two shooters were supposedly at. One of them tried to retaliate, getting shot instantly; the other managed to land a hit on an incoming Gestapo man, making him collapse. But he too was quickly hit by gunfire.
Paul rushed towards him, grabbing the bleeding man by the collar.
"Where is he!" Paul shouted, spit almost coming out.
The man before him only laughed weakly. "Already gone, you fool."
Paul stood up again, turning around hectically, analyzing every corner of the room. That’s when he noticed the half-open window in the bathroom.
He rushed towards it, jumping above one of the deceased, looking down.
He saw a military truck speeding away at an unusual speed.
"Fuck!!" Paul shouted, enraged.
He rushed out of the bathroom, trying to find a way outside, but a hand stopped him.
"We can’t chase after him right now, in this state," Heydrich said, pointing at the n around them.
Two of them were bleeding and one was lying on the ground, the blood nearly dried.
Paul’s jaw tightened. "Still..."
Heydrich pulled Paul close, his eyes full of murderous intent. "We will get him and we will make him suffer, but not right now, Heinrich."
"I have put up a military curfew around the city, but it’s probably too late," Sperrle said, the vein on his forehead nearly popping out.
"We will search for him day and night, but the chance is high that he defected to the Spanish," he continued.
Paul and Heydrich sat before him motionlessly.
"If we can’t catch him, we will catch his friends and make them suffer, blood for blood," Heydrich said, already standing up again.
A courtyard sowhere in Madrid.
"Spy."
"Deserter."
"Traitor."
"Thief."
The steps halted before the last person. "Collaborator."
"Any last words?" the man asked, his voice filling the yard.
"Fine then." The sound of leather boots distanced themselves from the prisoners.
Shots erupted when the man lowered his hand.
The handful of n kneeling a few ters from him were riddled with bullets from the firing squad, their bodies collapsing to the ground.
A single man still twitched, blood coming from his mouth.
The sound of steps once again filled the now silent courtyard.
A single gunshot erupted, making the birds fly away once more.
Paul watched them as they made their way through the sky.
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