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Washington DC January 1942 Jake Walker looked up from his desk. A man in Naval uniform was being walked toward him by Jake's boss Alan Clyde. Visitors to The Basement were rare; the secret nature of their operations ensured that alone. And even those who had clearance to be on the premises found rubbing elbows with the "egg heads" to be an intensely irritating experience. These twelve men, and two women, were equal parts intelligent and arrogant. This combination made most of them unpleasant company at best, overly direct and rude at worst. "Jake. This is Lieutenant Commander William Morgan. He is the Washington liaison for the op, so I think its best you give him the bad news yourself." Jake closing the notebook he had been scribbling in stood to shake hands. "Commander." "Bill and I," Jake's boss explained, "go back to the Naval Academy together. He stayed in the Navy, I left to do this," he motioned his hands indicating the room where they stood, "He was top of our class. You may not be able to go into the granular details, but he can well follow the outline." Jake pushed aside the pile of paper on his desk and sat on the corner. "That's no problem. The big picture outline is simple to follow," He took a moment to organize the concepts clearly in his mind to present them with clarity, "Hitler's boys are working on something. A weapon most likely, but from the chatter the Brits picked up and shared with us, it sounds like something game changing. Game changing enough that they split whatever it is they are working on into three pieces." Jake smoothed his cowlick as he was wont to do when he was on roll, and continued, "So imagine, the Japanese have one piece of the puzzle, the Italians have one and Germany, of course, has the key piece; the piece that puts it all together. The problem is we're having a bear of a time getting anything out of the Japanese, they run a tight ship, and closed societies are notoriously difficult to infiltrate with spy assets. But the Italians are almost comically sloppy. We already have people planted there at every conceivable level. We like to joke we have more people working in their intelligence buildings than they do." The Naval man nodded in understanding. "Splitting key projects in three is a smart safeguard. I hate Nazis, but they're ingenious. But you said something about bad news." "The key has always been the Berlin side. If we gather enough information there, maybe we could get a rough idea of what we were dealing with. Reverse engineer the info maybe. We had a girl all set up to infiltrate the German facility. But she got hit by a cab out riding her bike ... I mean, seriously, who rides a bike in this city ...?" It was less an admonishment than anger and sorrow at a loss of life. Commander Morgan had been watching the fan blades above Jake's desk slowly rotate. He was deep in thought. Alan stepped into the conversation. "I know what you're going to say Bill. 'Get another agent' But it's not that straight forward." "Yes, yes," Jake continued, "it has to be a woman who can get hired into a particular secretarial pool they use to sort state secrets. The German pool secretaries handle hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces of paper a day. All coded so they have no idea what they are looking at. The clearance to work there is stringent, but not ridiculously so." William Morgan put up a single finger to indicate he was going to speak. Like most officers, he was a man who accustomed to getting the floor when he signaled. Jake hid his impatience. He had dealt with military men like this before. Their thinking was usually slow and rigid, making their insights both a waste of air and time. "Allow me to guess: the plan had to be something like," the Lieutenant Commander surmised, "she got smuggled a daily cypher key every day before going in to work. I guess then she would have to be smart enough to crack codes in real time ... very fast if hundreds of pages had to be looked at to discard those that don't matter and find the ones related to this weapon ... and the German codes are probably math based ... so some kind of genius math whiz ..." He paused to think on the matter some more. "She couldn't take paper out, or cameras in, so ... a photographic memory?" Alan lightly elbowed Jake to change his expression, Jake's mouth had fallen open in astonishment. The Navy man had nailed it. Jake simply added, "And speak perfect German of course." William Morgan sighed deeply. "And speak perfect German of course. I'm going to guess there aren't many women like that out there." Jake nodded in agreement, "Yes, as you say, that's an extremely narrow slice of the population. It took us months to find just one. There are not many ... women ... but ..." He trailed off. "Jake?" "I've just had a perfectly terrible idea that may keep this mission on the rails after all. Brass will fight us tooth and nail but let me reach out to someone first." ++++++ The hallway was poorly lit and smelled of something unidentifiable but undoubtedly foul. A drunk lie sleeping at the end of the corridor empty bottle still in hand. From the bedlike pile of newspapers surrounding him, likely slept there every night as well. Many of the door numbers had fallen off, but Jake saw the outline of "3B". This was the one. After several knocks, the stained and splintered apartment door swung open. "Jake Walker? Just when I thought my day couldn't get any crappier. What a completely loathsome surprise. Here to ruin my life all over again?" Despite the cold greeting, Tanner Jenkins left the door open and turned back into his apartment. There weren't two people in the world who wanted to see each other less. As such, Jake being here at all meant this was something important enough to suspend years of animosity. Slamming the door in his face, while tempting, was not a viable option. Taking that as a silent invitation, Jake let himself into Tanner's overly modest apartment. It was cold. A quick glance at the radiator indicated it no longer worked. The abode was crowded with books as one would expect of Tanner but otherwise lacked any real warmth. There were no pictures of friends or relatives, no artwork of any kind. Barren and devoid of emotion were the words that came to mind. This wasn't a place to live, it was a place to simply exist. "Cozy place." Tanner went into the kitchen and poured hot water into a cup making tea. Offering Jake none, he sat in a folding chair at a small kitchen table. "Don't you dare make small talk. And it isn't a 'cozy place'. It's a shit hole. It's the kind of place you live when you leave University under a cloud and can't get a decent job. Do you want to know what I do now?" "You're dishwasher at the Helmon Hotel downtown." Tanner's eyebrow rose. "And how would you know ....? Of course, you ended up working for Uncle Sam after all didn't you? But why would the United States government want to keep tabs on someone like me?" "To be honest-" Jake's temperament made him incapable of beating around the bush. "We checked you out. Made sure you weren't under any undue influences." "Undue influences?" Tanner knew an explanation was forthcoming, so he simply waited for it. "One of the most brilliant men the University has seen in decades gets kicked out, will never again work in his field of study and ends up doing menial labor. There's bound to be some residual resentment there. Combine that with two German immigrant parents and you make a soft target for Nazi infiltration. But as far as we can tell, you're no spy. Just a dishwasher." "'Bound to be some residual resentment'," Tanner laughed bitterly, "you speak of this as though you didn't have a direct hand in it all." Not invited to sit, Jake had been standing. Now he rocked from foot to foot impatiently as he realized he was going relive his decisions. He really didn't have time for this. "Oh, I recognize that look from college. The Jake Walker look of annoyance. Well you need something, otherwise you wouldn't be here Mr. Walker. So, you will listen to me." Tanner pulled the tea bag from the cup, placing it carefully on a napkin, "The reason I got kicked out is because of you. I was happy. Nathan was happy. You ruined it all." "Nathan wasn't happy," Jake spat out. "You deceived Nathan. You deceived me. You deceived our friends. Not to mention you perverted the natural order. This 'Beverly' you posed as had Nathan believing you were a woman; not some abomination in women's clothes. And to think I was happy about 'Beverly' and Nathan. You were so twistedly real that you made an ass of me, but you especially made an ass of Nathan. Poor man." "If it weren't so sad, it would actually be fascinating to sit here and examine the process of how you've reconstructed reality. It would make a compelling study. You either choose not to remember or have blocked it out. But you are forgetting my memory is damn near perfect." Tanner went on, "The reason everything fell apart is because you are a lout. A woman stealing lout. I was supposed to be Nathan's 'girlfriend' at least as far as you knew. Yet that didn't stop you from pressing yourself against me in the bathroom at a Uni party ramming your tongue down my unwilling throat. 'I've always wanted you' were your words 'I can give you a better life than Nathan' were your words. And the unspoken part, your hard on jammed against my leg, your roaming hands, all told their own separate story. You didn't want to give me a better life. You wanted to give me your dick." Tanner sipped his tea quietly. He understood a great deal about the human mind. Allowed to graduate University, he would have been on the forefront of study in that field. He knew that Jake Walker was struggling as the lies he told himself all these years were falling away as the reality of that memory forced its way in. "You either lusted for me or thought you loved me. Or perhaps, you wanted to humiliate your good friend in some arrogant power play while you slept with me behind his back. But it was you forcing yourself on me that made me tell you the truth. That Beverly was a man." But Tanner was far from finished. He had waited years for this conversation thinking it would never come. "And oh Jake, my poor deluded narrow-minded self-hating little man. Nathan knew. Nathan always knew. Do you think I would betray a lover like that with such a big lie? The only reason he told you otherwise was that we decided only one of needed to go down. He got to graduate, get a good job and even have a wife and family." Jake shrugged angrily; he didn't like the way revisiting this made him feel. Did he really reshape the events to fit a narrative he could live with? It didn't matter. "I don't regret my decision. And if I would have known about Nathan being in on it, I would have turned him over too. Like I said, there's a natural order, men are men and women are women, and you flaunted breaking it." This was going nowhere. "I flaunted nothing. And it was harmless and privately between two people, at least until the night your desires overwhelmed you. But rehashing the good old days is not why you are here. Why are you here?" It wasn't why he was here. Jake was happy to move on from the unpleasant memories. "There's a government project. An operation against the Nazis. Spying to put it in simple terms. And there are only a few people who can pull it off. It would require your skill sets, all of your skill sets, even the unsavory ones." Very few things ever needed to be explained to the keen intellect of Tanner Jenkins. "'Unsavory skill set' being my ability to pass myself off as a woman. And you need my German heritage and language if we're talking about the Reich. But because you are talking to me specifically, you also need someone with high level deductive skills, maybe even my perfect memory. Hmmm ... you're not scouring universities for more female candidates to train I see, so this skill set must be in very short supply." Continuing, Tanner smiled darkly without a hint of humor. "Irony at its greatest. The cosmos punishing me again by forcing me to work with Jake Walker." "Work with?" For the second time in as many days, Jake was genuinely astonished by someone else's reaction. "After our ... past ... I thought this would be much harder." "Make no mistake. I despise you. That will never change. But I'm a dishwasher. This excellent mind," he pointed to his forehead. "deserves challenges. And without them, Mr. Walker, I have been dying a slow death for years. If the Nazis kill me quickly it will come as a relief. And I know the people fleeing Europe. I work side by side with immigrants all time. I'm very aware of what the chancellor of the Reich is doing to some of his people over there. He needs to be stopped." Tanner stood up and walked so he was inches from Jake, looking up at his face. If it were not for the man's slender effeminate build, Jake would have thought he was about to get socked. "Just because the country hates my kind Jake Walker, doesn't mean I hate the country in return." +++++++ The three men, William Morgan, Alan Clyde and Jake Walker all looked up when Tanner Jenkins arrived in The Basement. While they had been expecting him, they had not expected him to arrive dressed as a woman. Tanner wore a smart red tapered waist length combination blouse jacket with matching hat and gloves. His skirt was midnight black, falling tastefully right below the knees showcasing surprisingly smooth shapely stockinged legs perched on his black and red three-inch pumps. As was the current fashion, his neck- length blonde hair curled high on the top and was pulled back behind the ears exposing the entirety of his faultlessly made up face. He was, by anyone's standards, very pretty. In a voice picture-perfect for the red lip stick glossed female lips that uttered them, Tanner greeted them in German. The men responded in kind then stared wordlessly except for Jake. He had met this "woman" before, and after meeting Tanner again the other day, she brought back nothing but troublesome memories. He monitored their reaction carefully, however. He knew complete wonder when he saw it. "I forwent the suit and tie. I needed you to see that physically this could be done with little fear of detection," Tanner said in his female speaking voice. He had found, over time, that even those who knew his true gender found speaking this way less disorienting. Bill Morgan was broken from his spell first. "Your German is flawless." "It is," Tanner agreed. "But based on the responses I received upon my greeting, all of yours could use some work." The commander bristled a bit. Even the male egg heads that come prancing in here in stockings and heels act arrogant. Alan spoke, "You do look and sound convincing. But you also add several layers of complexity to a plan that had too many to begin with." "Like originally having to use an American woman instead of flipping a German, I imagine," Tanner said. "That doesn't sound ideal but I'm sure you had your reasons. And you fear the added risk of my getting body searched for recording equipment. Or possibly compromised by a German official who likes what he sees and tries to unwrap this candy bar against a bathroom wall almost by force." Tanner added that last part purely to sting Jake. Tanner motioned to a table in the middle of the room. "Spread papers over the entirety of that table. As many as will fit. If you have coded ones, then that would be even better." Alan, interested in where this was going, did as he was requested. Tanner turned his small back to the table to not see what was going on. "And if they are coded, and you have some sort of cipher key, get ready to show me that." Jake reached into his desk, pulled it out and showed it to Tanner. The man spun dramatically on his heels so his skirt twirled and rose from the motion showing off more of his curvy womanly legs. The others may not, but Jake recognized he was flaunting his female form; possibly to drive home how feminine he actually was. Tanner walked to the table, glanced at it for just a few moments, and turned his back again. "Okay, you should have perhaps shuffled them like a card deck, because they are more or less in order. It makes it no challenge all," Tanner chided. "They are also very outdated, but I assume that they exist only for training purposes. Now then. The top six refer specifically to Axis troop movements, divided by theater of war. I can recite them verbatim if you would wish. It seems we have someone planted in upper reaches of the Reich, if papers seven, eight and nine are accurate. This person, however, does not seem to have full access to the inner circle because their reporting on the daily locations of the most critical officers is spotty at best. Hitler has a very advanced missile program, papers ten and eleven, and his domestic program toward 'undesirables' has ramped up and extended to other countries conquered under his oppressive yolk: papers twelve through fifteen. Sixteen and seventeen are weather reports from countries near Germany but centering primarily on England. I assume that is related to Luftwaffe operations and perhaps they wish to start bombing the country again, although it could be used for naval operations." Tanner sat down crossing his legs, hooking one foot behind his ankle he reached into his purse for a smoke. Alan still half stunned from that display started to search in his pocket for a lighter, before checking himself. He wasn't going to leap to light this man's cigarette like some chivalrous puppy. This Tanner, undoubtedly attractive, was a confusing and troubling creature. "I am not showing off." Tanner exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. "what I am doing is what any trained mind should do, present all the variables, then allow you to weigh the pros and cons as factually as a math equation. Yes, as a man, an American man, disguised as a German woman, I am an added complexity. Several fold in fact. But as someone who can consume three times more information than anyone you send in my stead - even if you did have someone to send - I radically reduce the time an agent needs to be inserted into a dangerous situation." Tanner took another deep drag, crushing his lipstick stained butt into an ashtray. Quickly producing a compact mirror, he fixed his lipstick, then put it away. "It's simple boys. Added complexity compared with reduced exposure time. Do the math and get back to me. I imagine if you do choose me, you have people you need to convince, and that will be hard enough. I would stick around but I need to buy a typewriter. I'm fast but need to be faster, secretarial pool faster. Can't very well call attention to myself by pecking at keys, can I? Now, if one of you gentleman could get the door for a lady." Tanner stood waiting patiently. After a long uncertain pause, it was the Lieutenant Commander who walked him to the door. Jake grimaced; Tanner was playing games with them. He had made a good point, however, there were few who could do the job like him. Bill returned with a half-smile on his face. "Well she's a piece of work. A looker though - if that just doesn't take the cake - considering she has a snake under her dress." "She?" Alan asked. "We will be able to sell this with minimum fuss if we simply say we found another girl. So, we fudge a little paperwork and get used to thinking and saying 'she'." "So, lie? To the brass? Are you out of your blasted soon to be court martialed mind?" Jake snapped. He didn't like this one bit. "Omit," the Naval man corrected him, narrowing his eyes disapprovingly. He was unaccustomed to be spoken to in such a manner. "Her super brain aside," Commander Morgan continued. "I had my doubts. Had doubts right up until she waited us all out until someone walked her to the door. She's confident and ballsy in her role. She'll be good under pressure." Jake shot a glance at Alan, who just shrugged noncommittally. Kowtowing to his Navy pal, Jake thought. Some help he was. "May I remind sir, that overly confident is as bad sometimes as lack of confidence. Both get you caught." "You're right of course. She needs a seasoned handler in the field. That's why I'm going to suggest they send you along with her. Your German's not great, so she told us, but I believe your Dutch is fluid, correct? And no one knows the op better than you. Congratulations. You just got married." Jake scowled, and that bastard Alan actually laughed before speaking. "Foreign husband is another layer of complexity. But your blonde hair and blue eyes thing will help. Easier for them to believe you bought into their Aryan uberman crap." "From Holland? No, no, that's great actually," William Morgan said. "I caught wind of an op there that needs taking care of. And I think we can kill two birds with one stone and give our newlyweds a solid in with the Germans." "Sounds good," Alan said. "Tell me about the Holland op Bill and I'll have the research team work up a background for you two love birds to memorize. It will take a bit to get the ball rolling, so if you want, you may still have time for a honeymoon." ++++++++ Amsterdam September 1942 "Hendrick, put your arm around me, I'm cold." Jake Bates hated every moment he was in the field with Tanner Jenkins. He wasn't angry with the Washington brass. Having been lied to, they fully believed that their primary asset was a woman, and not a man pretending to be so, and had no real concept of what a compromisingly perverted position they had placed him in. Jake was, however, furious with his boss Alan Clyde and Alan's Naval Officer compatriot. They were fully aware of the circumstance around this operation yet insisted they would be better off as a married couple. A newly married couple that needed to infiltrate Amsterdam political movers and shakers to locate their target through public outings and dinner parties. Hand holding, snuggling, kissing, longing eyes toward each other was all part of the cover. The only cold comfort was Jake knowing Tanner was as averse to the situation as he. Although, Jake suspected Tanner took a perverse angry enjoyment in asking for Jake to show affection when none was needed, such as now. The light equivalent of hate sex. But Jake was a professional and understood the stakes of the game. So, when his wife, Renata Weber asked Jake, Hendrick van der Kleij, to put his arm around her he did with a gentleness that looked to all the world like love. Jake thought back to the lecture they were given right before they boarded the plane. "I've never been in the field, just done coordination, liaison work," the Annapolis Naval Academy graduate explained to Tanner and Jake. "but I do know this: when you look at each other you see 'Hendrick' and 'Renata' only. And it is very important that you see a 'she', a she you loved enough to marry. So, Jake you can put aside any natural feelings any red-blooded man would have against this right now. And you Tanner, I read up on your background. I don't know the details of what happened between the two of you, but I can guess. When you look at 'Hendrick' you can't see the Jake that got you removed from school. You love this man. He is the sun the moon and the stars to you. Do you understand?" They both understood. So, putting away Jake and Tanner, they became Renata and Hendrick completely. Now that they were close, Renata placed her blonde head on Hendrick's shoulder and whispered. "That's him. Should we wait for him to go into the alley or catch him in his apartment? "The alley will be cleaner. It's adjacent to an empty building on the canal." The two stood up, Hendrick taking Renata's hand in his walked as carefree newlyweds, before turning sharply into the alley. A large Dutch man had just slipped an envelope into a loosened brick of a building. He spun around fiercely ready to fight but stopped short upon seeing Hendrick's gun pointed squarely at him. It was Renata however who spoke. "We know who you are 'White Bird' and we know what this is. So do not lie or my husband will shoot you. How does the German, the Major, know where the drop offs are? They change every time." The dark-haired large man reached into his coat and produced a letter. "So, you've been following me for weeks I see. After I hide the list, I send him this letter telling him where to go. It keeps me anonymous." "Give me the letter and the package of papers you hid in that wall," Hendrick demanded. "drop them at your feet." The man did as he was told. Realizing with the crucial information extracted he no longer had value, the man pleaded "I didn't betray my country. I only worked with them because they threatened my family. And they gave me extra medicine for my little one. She's sick." Renata's curved eyebrow raised. "That so? How would that work? I thought you were anonymous." He stammered, caught in his lie. Hendrick soothed him. "Don't worry. You gave me what I wanted. I'm not going to shoot you. I promise." Renata walked over to pick up the envelope as the man relaxed. With a quick motion she stabbed his thigh with a syringe leaping back. The man lunged at her before stumbling and falling to the ground. Staring at the body in alley Hendrick finished his sentence. "and I always keep my promises," turning to Renata he said. "I'll drag the body through the empty building and dump it in the water. You keep watch." "Forgetting something?" Renata reached into her purse and stuffed the bags of heroin into his pockets. "Now you can take him." ++++++ Renata opening the envelope, removed all the pages but three. Setting them alight, she dropped them into the park trash can. "These three pages had the fewest names circled. It's not perfect, I hate that we have to hand over this much, but it will save a few lives." "Okay. Let's go see go see Sturmbannf?hrer Becker, shall we?" Major Becker shook Hendrick's hand, kissing Renata's. She smiled at him pleasingly, sitting down she pushed her skirt aside very subtly so that her stockinged knee and the entirety of her shapely lower legs were on show. In her perfect northern German dialect, Renata said "My father was Reichswehr. He didn't talk about it much, but I believe he was in France. His uniform was handsome, but nothing like yours." The rotund man smiled. "Oh, you're German. How lovely. I didn't expect that." The major responded turning to Hendrick. "this must be why you were helping us with the citizen registries. Your beautiful wife showed you the righteousness of our way?" "Yes, she did. It is also why I came out of the shadows as White Bird after helping you for all these months. My blushing bride wants to move to Berlin. The Netherlands have become inhospitable toward her since Germany liberated it. Since we're leaving, I just wanted you to see the face of the man ... and woman ... helping your Fatherland." Renata had been tracing small slow circles on her exposed knee while looking at the aged round Nazi officer as though he were the only one in the room. She turned to Hendrick. "Honey, I know you have to get back to what you were doing. Major, if you would be so kind, I would love to talk to you more about the Wehrmacht and home. I'm sure you have some quite entertaining stories. And if I could impose upon you to walk me home afterward?" ++++++++ "What did you do Renata? Did you shine the major's medals?" "Why, are you jealous Hendrick?" Hendrick sat down on the couch of their cozy apartment. Along with their wedding photos, Hendrick was surrounded by pictures of boys and girls of various youthful ages snapped around locales in Germany and the Netherlands. A close forensic examination may reveal that these children were not actually Hendrick and Renata at a young age with their respective families, but children chosen to look like them. But if someone knew to examine them that closely, then they had much larger problems on their hands. The argument was surreal to the point of making Hendrick near insane. This woman, who is not even a woman, treated his marriage, which is not even a marriage, with disrespect, and therefore Hendrick, who is not even Hendrick. "I'm not jealous ... I'm just ..." She pulled an envelope out of her purse. "It's a recommendation from the Major noting how I ... we ... served the Reich in the highest possible manner. With something like that in my hand," she said the next words very carefully. "it will be much easier to get that job that I wanted in Berlin." Hendrick nodded, he understood. "I still don't like it." He wanted to say it was "risky to the mission" but knew better than to speak openly in such terms. Even in private they completely played their roles. "The major was quite taken with me. I'm very pretty you know, he couldn't tell me enough times. I wanted something special from him, so he asked for something special in return." Renata's voice was cheerful, noncommittal, but the look on her face was vaguely haunted. Hendrick softened a bit. He had been caught up and how much he personally found this mission distasteful. And even though she clearly tortured him at times, he was coming around to the understanding that it was possibly even more difficult for Renata, the things she may have to do. "I'm sorry about that. Yelling at you." He meant it. "Come here," she motioned to him. Putting her lips very close to his ears, whispering so low as to be near inaudible she said. "The major also let slip to me our room has listening devices. Not sure about cameras. Installed two days ago. We asked too many questions about the people being taken away." She thought a moment before whispering again, "Happy couple, remember? At this point in an argument, a couple makes love to make up." "I'm not going -" He said that far too loud, and Renata put a finger over his lips, whispering again. "Fake it. We're going to fake it." Moving onto the couch she pulled him on top of her with one hand and unbuckling his trousers with the other. Hiking up her skirt, she wrapped her legs around him. She left her panties up and stockings on. "Grind," she said, "make it look and sound real." Pelvis to pelvis, Hendrick rubbed his crotch against Renata's soft panties. Her stocking legs pulled him in tighter. Despite himself, his manhood grew with shameful ease. Her moans of desire rang out through the room. They sounded so real it made Hendrick's head light. He had not been with a woman in so very long. And now below him, rubbing crotch to crotch ... That blonde hair in her face, her breasts bouncing to his thrusting rhythm, her eyes shut tight ... He felt himself release in an explosion of sticky regret and humiliation. Renata kissed him for a long while, before leaving to clean herself up. Emerging from the bathroom, she said. "That was wonderful love. See, I wouldn't choose the major over you no matter how handsome he looked in his uniform." The major was anything but handsome, another small warning from Renata that they were bugged. "Let's go for a walk Liebling." Hand in hand they strolled down the canal. Hendrick, still deeply shamed said, "Back there at the apartment -" Renata cut him off sharply. "We will not talk about that. We play the part we have to." Renata was not going to allow herself to think about the man she disliked more than any other in the world, rubbing against her and leaving a trail of his sticky juice all over her. It just made her grow angry and she needed a clear head. She needed to stay in the role. Hendrick changed tact. "So, we're bugged." "Maybe cameras too, but doubtful. And I think we've only been bugged for a couple of days. We were asking a lot of questions about the people who were being taken out of their homes. How and why and who stuff. And when we find out who it is, someone ends up dead. Heroin overdose and floating in a canal, sure, but it still doesn't look great." Hendrick let out a low whistle. "If the Germans knew he was the contact, then we go waltzing up a couple of days later pretending we're the contact ..." "It's not good. But if the major told me about the bugs, then it was more they are fishing for suspects than have us nailed on. But Nazi's are devious, tricky monsters. He did just hand me, a near perfect stranger, a job recommendation for a secrets facility in Berlin. They may be simply leading into a trap to see what we're after and who else is involved." "Catch us in the net all at once. How did you find all this out? The bugs I mean." She spoke defiantly, "I offered to jerk him off in our apartment. You remember how you treated Nathan? Men love that power trip. I thought he would find it thrilling to disgrace you on our marital bed. That's when he got nervous and let it slip." Her barbs were sharp. "You offered to ..." "Two days ago, I killed a man. Sure, he was collaborating scum, but still a man with a family. Then I gave him the lasting legacy of being a drug addict. Today, I handed over a list of people to a man who is going to harm some of the people on it, just so I can further my cover. The person I kiss and wrap my arms lovingly around every day, is the man who annihilated my life. And apparently, despite despising me as a cross dressing abomination, he's happy to forget that and use me like some masturbatory toy spilling his seed all over me." "No," she said softly. "I checked my soul at the door the moment you arrived at my apartment last January. Bringing the Major to climax is just a tiny part of the stain on me." She walked a few steps before turning to him, the spite in her voice clear. "It's actually good. Word will get out. Hendrick is now a weak man who lets his wife send him away so she can play footsies with Nazi officers. You are degraded as a man, sure, but it may be a strategic advantage down the road, like with the bugs. Now please, put your arm around me. We're in love." It shouldn't - Hendrick is a construct - but this stung, as he was sure Renata intended it to. +++++++++++ Berlin November 1942 Hendrick and Renata stared out of the cab window. Street cars moved slowly down the center of the avenues, while delivery bikes, trucks and cars weaved around one another on the surprisingly wide streets. Men and women in stylish clothes window shopped, sat at street side tables, sipped coffee and ate small cakes. If not for the for the wreckage of a factory on the outskirts of the city, a casualty of the Allied bombing campaign, or the Wehrmacht officers littering the cafes, it would have been difficult to tell there was a war on at all. Hendrick mentally compared that to what he had seen of Rotterdam in the Netherlands, a city well destroyed and physically and emotional scarred by the Luftwaffe. Despite its modern urban feel, what felt like patriotism to the Berlin citizens, rightfully felt like the oppressiveness of the Reich hanging over the city like some fascist boot. In the center of the city stood the Brandenburg gate with its long red Nazi banners, a testament to the power and evil of the regime. Everywhere propaganda, flags and banners filled the city as markers to wartime brainwashing. As repulsive as they may have found them, they served as a reminder to Hendrick and Renata that they were well and truly in the dangerous belly of the beast. The Van der Kleijs rented a large three-room apartment just on the outskirts of the city. Like much real estate during wartime, this one only opened because its owner was never returning from the battlefront. They had chosen it at almost the last moment, in part to deter any attempts to put their apartment under surveillance. With Amsterdam fresh in mind, the couple still spoke and acted as though they could always be heard and seen by others. Three weeks after settling in, Renata prepared for her first day of work. From DC to Amsterdam to Berlin, there were small stylistic differences that Renata had to adjust to blend in. But being able to recall almost every woman she saw on the streets of each city; she was able to do so with ease. German women her age seemed to favor a marginally less modest one-piece dresses than the States' popular skirt and blouse combination. As such, Renata wore an almost neutral colored dark blue dress that dramatically pinched in at the waist flaring at the hips. Her stockinged legs were showcased under a knee length hemline with the black high heeled oxford shoes of the working woman chosen over her preferred choice of pumps. Makeup and hair fashion did not mimic the Hollywood starlets of the day of course; accordingly, she wore her shoulder length hair a bit more naturally - there were no wigs for her - with less hair spray and no piled top curls. Looking at herself in the mirror she weighed a decision. She slipped in a second pair of foam falsies into her bra increasing her bust line by a cup size. Checking her new shape, she figured she was now a much harder woman to say "no" to. Hendrick found work at a meat packing plant on the other side of the city. It would be hard labor undoubtedly, but a job full of foreigners, and one he could quit on a moment's notice and attract little attention. "You look fantastic sweetheart. Go get them." He kissed Renata on the lips, and she touched his face appreciatively. After so many weeks in their roles, these kinds of actions were so routine as to be almost second nature, just as they needed to be. Renata walked several blocks to a corner bakery. Sitting down at an open table she was approached by a young waiter from inside. Renata estimated him to be no more than fifteen. Bringing out a newspaper, coffee and cakes, the young man said in German. "Your usual Miss." As Renata had no usual, never having been here before, she understood the message and accepted the morning meal and the code breaking key tucked in the newspaper. She paid him with the words. "Tell your father the cakes are lovely" code for "no trouble with the mission". Casually glancing at and memorizing the key, she folded the small piece of paper into the cake and ruined the taste by eating it. Taking the streetcar into the heart of the city she stepped out at the address she had written in her tiny notebook. The building stood before her was an intimidating block wide, five story imposing stone structure, with two giant Nazi banners unfurled from the top floor to nearly the street. German officers of all ranks moved in and out of the front doors which were guarded by two rifle bearing soldiers on either side. Groups of intense conversations punctuated by the snap of the Nazi hand salutes took place on the massive stairs. Large black cars parked curbside released equally black suited party officials onto the street in front of the building. Across from the immense edifice was a tall fortress like structure with four anti- aircraft guns situated to point in every direction. Before this moment, the mission (the real but brief perils of the Netherlands aside) was an intellectual exercise. Standing here Renata came to terms with what a truly deadly game she was playing. Centered in the massive foyer, was a large check-in desk, also flanked by men with rifles. Taking a cursory look around, they were not the armed men in the building. A heavy-set woman with thick black frame glasses and poor teeth asked for her identification papers. "Bitte, Ihre Kennkarte?" Renata handed her fake ID documents along with the piece of paper indicating she was to report to room 304. The woman slid the papers back to her and motioned to the stairs behind her. Room 304 was a large classroom. Renata sat in the back as to get a good mental picture of everyone entering the room. The start time was eight thirty, but by eight twenty all the women were seated. How very German, Renata thought. A woman in her mid-forties walked to the front of the classroom behind an officer; and if medals and age were an indicator, an officer of some importance but long retired from the fighting lines. Looking at her clipboard the woman called roll. "Listen up ladies," she said in a Bavarian dialect to the roughly ten women seated. "I am Frau Mayhofer. You are the new women who will fill vacant spots in the Intelligence Dissemination Pool. Your job is simple, but it requires speed and accuracy. You will each place yourselves beside a pneumatic tube. When one of these appears," the Nazi officer handed her a cannister for demonstration, "you will open it." She twisted the cap off pulling out piece of paper. "On the upper right hand, you will see a color mark. The meanings of the marks change every day, so it is very important that you check the board outside to see what the colors mean that day. But for today, the color scheme means this: red is thrown away. Yellow is taken to a typewriter, typed out twice with absolutely no mistakes. These documents are coded and will not make sense to your eyes, so getting it perfect will be more difficult than typing a letter. They will then be sealed and dropped into pneumatic tubes A, B, and C, respectively. Anything that is marked with a green dot today, will not be retyped but walked straight to me, where I will take them to Standartenf?hrer Baumann, the gentleman to my right here. If you do not see me, you may take them directly to the Colonel." Simple instructions delivered she was finished. "To your stations please ladies." The women were required to leave their purses and jackets in lockers outside of the sorting room. The lack of locks told Renata this was a place people dare not steal. The room itself was more a small factory floor than the secretarial pool she had imagined. Lining the walls and extending beyond them to places unknown were scores of clear pneumatic tubes. Every few moments the compressed air pipes would shoot a sealed cannister into an opening at the base of one of the tubes. These contained the docs that needed to be sorted and dealt with. In the center of the room were several typing stations very close together and facing each other. A woman seated here was nearly face to face with another. Above it all was a ringed balcony circling the whole of the room and the single inset office of the Colonel. A uniform armed soldier casually strolled the perimeter above as did Frau Mayhofer. There was a reason no body searches were done going in or out. Not a move could be made without being seen; certainly nothing as blatant as photographing or stealing intelligence. A mere forty-five minutes in, Renata's had figured out the entire system. It was not complex if one had the capacity to code break in real time and read what was flying around the workroom. The papers the girls were throwing out were pure noise; pieces of made up intel to confuse potential code breakers and to create sheer volume. The ones being retyped and sent off again to other departments, were important documents that needed immediate redistribution. Top secret yes, but not the nation's most guarded secrets; those vital secrets were the ones being delivered directly to Colonel Baumann. It was ingenious. Even if someone were able to do the near impossible, like Renata, and be able to both read the information and memorize it, by the random nature the information shot down the pneumatic tubes, she would never be able to see enough of it to get a coherent picture. This was particularly true with the most important secrets being shuttled to the Nazi officer. This was going to be a major challenge. +++++++ Hendrick was dropped off by one of his new coworkers. Renata was sitting on the front steps of the new abode with a wine bottle in hand. "Lucky man. She's a beauty. I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow, yes?" Hendrick walked up to her and gave her the loving kiss any man who had missed his attractive wife would. His older coworker shook his head at the display. "Newlyweds," he said to himself. "Let's see if he kisses like that ten years from now." "How was work love?" She placed her arm around his waist, her larger than normal breasts pressed against him. "I thought we would go to the park and share this. Celebrate your new job. It may get a little cold when the sun dips, but you'll keep me warm." She spread a blanket on the grass picnic style, producing two glasses from her purse. Satisfied they were out of earshot of anyone she got straight to it. "It's not laid out anything like boys guessed it would be," even sure they were alone there was no way she was going to say, "the boys in Washington." "Even though it is all coded, they have it set up so no one gets to see but a sliver of the pie. No one, but the two people who run the place." "And who is that?" With Renata tucked under his arm, he opened the bottle and filled their glasses. His body ached from a day of intense labor. He may have been fit in a tennis club sort of way, but as an intellectual by trade, he was unfamiliar working this hard this long. The wine felt good. "A high-ranking officer, war hero from the looks of it, and a true believer woman Frau Mayhofer who runs the entire program. My best guess forty-five, forty-six years old." "So, she's not some ingenue eye candy, she earned it. And Nazi's really don't like women in political positions, positions of power at all really. Goes against their ideals. So, like you said, she must be a true believer." The fatigue and wine were going to his head. He needed it not to. Over the weeks, Renata and Hendrick became removed from Jake and Tanner. They never completely forgot who they were, and their ever-increasing intricate show of love, was still borne of acting - a show for the watching world. But they were placed together in a constantly tense, precariously deadly situation, in a hostile country. While not the couple they pretended to be, they came to an understanding that they very much needed each other, take comfort in each other. It was the two of them against the world. Tempers still flared from time to time, their original wound was a deep one, and Renata still had a sharp tongue that tended toward the humiliating. But it was different, even in the weeks since Amsterdam. Neither would try to define it, because it defied conventional explanation, but when they held each other it satisfied a need. A need to feel safe. It was the only explanation why they could sit on the couch in each other's arms listening to the radio or fall asleep in a tight embrace; far more than the acting required. But Jake also understood that blurring this line with alcohol was a recipe for confusion and regret. Even acknowledging this emotional safe space aloud would ruin it. It was strange and delicate. So, when Renata tried to pour him another glass he declined with a gentle kiss. Again, he wondered not for the first time, why he felt that kiss necessary. It was growing dark and not a soul could see them any longer. "Thanks love," he said in his ever-improving German. "I need to keep my head straight to puzzle this through. I have an idea, but it may carry an almost unacceptable level of risk." +++++++++ Renata arrived at work and checked the color-coding board outside of the workroom. Because of the random nature of the color schemes, changing from day to day, it was a full four days from when she and Hendrick devised their risky plan until the time she could execute it. But upon looking today, she realized it could finally be enacted. Renata bided her time. In the mornings through midday people tended to be sharp. She needed to pull this off during the late afternoon when the body's natural clock meant people's awareness was not as focused. At three thirty she made her move. Receiving a message that needed to be typed out in duplicate before being sent to other departments, Renata pretending to make an error, dropped her "first attempt" into the trash can and began again ... but not before attaching a piece of chewing gum to the back so it stuck to the side near the top. Once a fake "throw away" message shot down her station's tube she walked it over to the can. Pulling lipstick out from her dress pocket, she quickly removed the message she had stuck to the side for retrieval and marked the top right with a red dot from her lipstick. It now looked like a message for Colonel Baumann's eyes. Pretending to be quite alarmed she walked it over to Frau Mayhofer. "This was in the trash with the garbage messages. Someone clearly made a mistake." "Let me see that," As she examined it, Renata prayed she would not be able to tell the lipstick mark from that of a marker. "You have a done a service," she told the spy. "These girls work hard and a mistake like this would be costly. We will not mention where you found it." "Of course, Frau Mayhofer, as you say." +++++ Two days later Renata kissed her husband with a great show young love as he was picked up by his meat packing plant co-worker. It amused her slightly how wistfully the older man watched them. As she did every day, she went to the caf? on the other side of city to receive and memorize the day's code breaking key. Using the code for the mission remain on track, she told teen "Tell your father the cakes are lovely" before ingesting yet another piece of sensitive paper. But today was different. She was heading into work a full hour early. It was two days after she handed the coded message to Frau Mayhofer and things seemed to be going as planned. Outside of the classroom, room 304 where she first received her briefing was an irritated and obviously flustered Colonel Baumann. He was holding the demonstration cannister but had dropped a pile of papers on the floor. Perfect. Renata trotted on her heels kneeling to help him. A quick move of her hand made sure the Colonel could see where her stockings met her garter. Pretending to notice it herself, she quickly adjusted it back. "This damn orientation has fallen on me now. Babysitting females is not work for an officer of the Reich." "Frau Mayhofer is sick I take it?" The Colonel said nothing. Renata, in a move that looked like clumsiness, allowed her large breast to press against his arm. "My mother was a teacher in Hamburg. As a teen I would substitute when she was sick. Allow me to read the roll and explain the process." Standing up, now holding all the papers she would need to instruct the newcomers, she extended a hand. "I am Renata Weber. I have a different married name, but I prefer my maiden name, its more Aryan. I don't know if you've heard my name, but Major Becker from the Amsterdam command recommended me." His eyes showed recognition. "Ah yes. I did remember hearing about you. You and your husband ... a Dutchman if I am correct ... did a great service to the Reich at personal risk." "I did nothing any daughter of the Reich would not do." The Colonel smiled, Renata could feel him drinking her in with his eyes. He was pleased with what he saw and what he heard. "Frau Mayhofer will not be returning." He said curtly, but then changing his tone, offered. "There is an opening I believe you can fill Frau Weber. Please, go in and introduce yourselves to the new workers." ++++++++ Renata held Hendricks hand across the table. The candlelight flickered with dim light as the sun began to set. The buzz of the Italian restaurant almost guaranteed they would not be overheard, but they were cautious all the same. "So, you used your maiden name 'Weber' and not 'van der Kleij'? How modern." "Well I am German. And I needed to be my most German." She rubbed his hand in apology. "I hope you don't mind." Not for the first time Hendrick wondered where acting ended and reality began; such the lines were blurring. "Love," he said, "I am just happy for your promotion." A "promotion" Renata reflected on this joyful euphemism for such a very dark act. Her promotion was all but guaranteed the moment Colonel Baumann read a communique detailing the crimes against the Reich committed by his right hand, Frau Marta Mayhofer, the English born spy. The humiliation of being duped all these years called for immediate action. Over the protests of the woman, the Colonel took her into an alleyway behind the building and shot her himself. Renata knew this because, as her replacement, she was the one who was asked to type the letter to command detailing their message had been received and the spy disposed of. This was problematic. Command had sent no such message; it had been crafted by Renata. "Colonel," Renata said at the time, "I am just a woman and you are a hero of the nation. But may I make a suggestion?" Renata allowed her heeled pump to slide off her foot as she dangled it by her toes. She noted the Colonel seemed to like that; he had a bit of foot fetish she could tell. "Go ahead." "Since this will be part of your service record, you may just want to say something like, 'I discovered Frau Mayhofer was engaged in acts against the Reich. I felt it was best that she be dispatched as soon as possible'. You are a man above reproach. But saying in writing 'I worked side by side with a spy for years until told to eliminate her' may lead to questions you do not want to answer. Eliminating a woman for any of the countless 'acts against the Reich' is something that happens so frequently as to not be given a second look." She appealed then to his ego. "And if the Fuhrer or anyone else were looking through service records for someone to bring into his circle ..." He nodded with vigorous approval. "You are as clever as any man." She gave the officer her most winning smile. "Oh Colonel, let's not get carried away, shall we?" ++++++ Berlin November 1943 A year to the day Hendrick and Renata arrived in Berlin she found herself in the most unusual position. To the Allies she was one of, if not the, most important assets this side of the British code breakers. Germany's largest secrets were, quite literally, handed to her every single day. She was also, in large part due to the patronage of decorated Colonel Baumann, one of the few women in the Nazi party who had both respect and visibility. Her suggestions to the Colonel helped streamlined German intelligence to a point where it ran smoother and more cohesively than ever. That her innovations opened back doors for the Allies to gain greater access to it, went completely unnoticed. Hendrick no longer worked in the meat packing plant. That was no job for the husband of one of the Reich's leading daughters. He was handed a largely decorative, lowly, position coordinating youth propaganda. It was boring work with largely nothing to do as the real decisions were made above his head, but it at least put him in the same building with Renata. The couples' social life was both rich and abhorrent. They went to the best parties, ate the best foods, had light breezy conversations with the demonstrably worst people. Not a single night went by when she was not told something like. "it was so nice that the Chancellor marched all those soft eggs (the German slur for gay men), out of the city," or was subjected to a pseudo-scientific defense of master race policy. This party, thrown by a wealthy couple who certainly bought their way up the party ladder, was no different. Renata had been subjected to a twenty- minute lecture on the perversions of men who act like women. Forced to participate in agreement, the entire time a voice inside screamed until she could take it no longer. "Frau Lange, you do throw the best parties. All of Berlin says so," Renata said cheerfully extricating herself. "But it is really past my bedtime." "Ah yes. The life of a working woman. Let me say goodbye to that handsome husband of yours." Walking toward their flat, three teenage girls, aged thirteen to possibly eighteen, were sitting on the porch where Renata greeted her husband every day when he use to work at the packing plant. They looked ragged like they had not bathed or eaten in sometime. Urchins were a very unusual sight for Berlin. Hendrick asked, "May we help you?" The oldest teen had a desperate yet resigned look on her face. She spoke to Renata. "Someone finally told us you have the job our mother did. Frau Mayhofer? Do you know her?" "I did, yes," Renata said carefully, "and I took over for her when she left." "Left where! Do you know?" the youngest of the three asked. "She disappeared the same day Father and Uncle Horst did." "Disappeared ... your uncle, mom and dad all are gone?" Hendrick dared not look at Renata right now. He had no idea what she could be feeling. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I don't know where you family could be. Where do you stay? Do you want to come in for a bite?" Renata sounded broken. The girl looked disappointed. "No. That's ok. Sorry to trouble you. We'll be going then." They entered the apartment and Renata broke down crying. "I'm a monster. As bad as the Germans. I killed them. I killed them all," she whispered quietly in Hendricks ear. Tears flowing down her face she kissed him passionately, desperately. Leading him back to the bedroom she pulled his pants and underwear to the floor. Stepping out of her panties, she rubbed a stockinged leg against his and worked his penis with her hand. She fell backward to the bed sobbing loudly as she pulled him onto her. Her voice was very soft but pleading. "I want you inside me. I ... I ... I need to feel something human, something real. Something that says I'm not a monster." She wrapped her legs around him. Using the hand lotion on the nightstand he lubricated his hardened shaft and slid it gently into her waiting anus. His moan of joy contrasted with her sobs of sorrow. It had been so long. He kissed her passionately allowing his tongue to search the inside of her willing mouth. He pushed his hips a bit harder until the resistance gave way and he slid all the way into her canal. It was so tight and gripping, it felt better than he could have ever imagined. He thrust his pelvis back and forth as she dug her nails into his back. Her cries, pain, despair, joy ... love ...? ... rang out through the room. He thrust one last time pulling her so tightly against him that they were one. Spasm after spasm his sperm flowed into her narrow tunnel. His penis softened as her bottom, naturally contracting, pushed it out. He, however, didn't move. With his hand he stroked her face, trying to wipe all the tears away. Not knowing what to say, he repeated over and over. "It's okay, I'm here, it's okay." +++++++ In order to perform in her role and not get caught, Renata had to do a bit of curating. The most important information as well as the things she did not understand, got moved on as actionable intelligence. Being a party member and hearing gossip of the war effort, and being so keen of mind, she was able to hold back things that would point the finger back to her department. But on this day, she knew she had hit the motherload, the mission they had been sent for. Leaving work, she and Hendrick walked arm in arm stopping at the caf? she had every morning. The young man who gave her key codes in the morning, knew the routine at night as well. He was surprised to see her two days in a row, but he arrived with the evening paper. Renata slipped several pages of intel she had written down in her small notebook from her perfect memory into the paper. After the appropriate amount of time she left, and the teen picked up the hidden papers. The intelligence was still divided between the major Axis powers, but Renata felt she had a handle of what the destructive weapon was. Playing with Hendricks ears with her fingers in the park she said. "I think it's a giant rocket full of chemicals that can reach the US. Explodes in the atmosphere and rains death down on everything it touches, people, crops, livestock, anything alive. It's like a damn plague from God. But most importantly, I was able to give them the four factories housing the chemicals and the rocket development. Destroy those, and that's a pretty big setback. Hendrick kissed the top of her head. "My little genius." "Your little genius may have given us our ticket home at last." That night they made love with an impassioned force that shook the very walls. ++++ Five days later the couple arrived at the caf? as had been the routine for over a year. For the first time in that span, something different happened. The teen boy did not come out to greet her, instead a German woman in her early twenties, pad and paper in hand, asked them for their order. Renata was on the verge of asking about the young man who usually took her order. Sensing this, Hendrick placed a hand on hers silently quieting her, and ordered two coffees with cakes. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head "no". Renata was very good at what she did. Be he had been trained longer for these kinds of missions. And a key rule was to never ask about a missing asset. Certainly, it could be something as mundane as a flat bike tire making the boy late for work. But if it were not, inquiring may compromise you. Hendrick excused himself. Although he had used the rest room ten minutes earlier, he rose to find this one. Renata casually checked her makeup and waited for him to return. Sipping the coffee, eating the cakes, they made small talk. Once risen from the table Hendrick said. "The father's missing too. Assume we've been made." Renata walked into Colonel Baumann's office to find Major Becker from Amsterdam sitting in a chair in front of his desk. There was no question looking at her boss, that this was not a social call. "Frau van der Kleij, although you use 'Weber' now don't you?" the Major said in an overly soothing manner. "people in your way to the top seem to die around you I am finding. So, I did a little digging. A man back in Amsterdam found floating in a canal was rumored to be the real White Bird. But that was inconclusive, he was, after all, anonymous. Besides, you told me your husband was White Bird, a hero of the Reich." He went on. "Then, to my surprise I read that you have become one of the leading women in the Reich. A woman at the center of all our state secrets. In such a short time too. Lo and behold, just like Amsterdam, an opportunity opened by untimely death. An untimely death ordered by Command in a message that no one can seem to find or remember writing." Renata was oddly calm. "So, this how I die," she thought silently to herself. "At lease I have done some good." She then had a darkly amusing thought that almost made her laugh aloud. "I can't imagine what will go through their heads when they find that on top of making a spy a celebrated daughter of the Reich, that this spy's lovely corpse will have a penis." Colonel Baumann finally spoke. "But the worst part was our biggest project was set back by years. Four top secret facilities were bombed two days ago. Facilities that no one should know about. It was impossible. Unless, of course, someone could read code and saw all the messages. And that person, say, was getting a cipher key from a dad and his boy at a caf? every day." "Let's go pay a visit to that husband of yours downstairs, shall we?" +++++ Standing in the alleyway with a gun pointed at them by the Colonel, Hendrick held Renata tight and kissed her on the top of her head. "I love you," he told her. "I mean it. I'm sorry for everything that happened since the day you met me. You would have been so much better off without having ever seen my face." "I forgive you Love. I truly do." "That's touching, no really, very sweet." said the Major. "I would put it on your tombstone, but you will be buried in a ditch with every other traitor to the Reich. Fire when ready Colonel." It all happened very fast, almost too fast to comprehend: A high-pitched siren. The explosive sound of anti-aircraft guns from the fortress across the street. An explosion. A piece of wall of the Intelligence build exploding outward like a bomb. No, not like a bomb. From a bomb. An Allied bomb, dropped from RAF planes filling the skies above. The Major was flung across the alley, smashed against the wall like an insect by a swatter. The Colonel managed to squeeze off a shot. It whizzed by Renata's head missing by inches. The last expression on his face was one of dismay as the building side collapsed burying him. Standing for a moment, not understanding how or why they were still alive, Hendrick and Renata ran. +++++++ Washington DC October 1945 "Jack." "Tanner" It had been awkward between them for a couple of years now. The war had been over for months in Europe and the Japanese had finally surrendered. And slowly, inescapably, they had drifted apart. All the adrenaline ... Amsterdam ... Berlin ... almost dying .... the escape back home through occupied France ... had evaporated. Jack spent his time staring at intel in The Basement every day, planning operations for other people. Tanner, his collegiate record was made magically clear as a reward for his service, returned to school; albeit a bit older than most students. Graduated now, he would be able to finally do whatever he wanted with his life without a blackmark of shame. In the days after Berlin, they tried hard to make it work, but it was different here. Everything was. Jack wasn't Hendrick and Tanner was not Renata, even in his female form. Dating a known crossdresser was impossible in the very city where Jack worked as intelligence. And with a chance at getting the deserved degree, Tanner had little desire to put himself on the line either. "Come in please Jack, I was just making some tea. Let me get you some. It's really good to see you." Speaking clumsily in third person as they did about their former relationship, Jack sat in Tanner's large abode, sipping tea, said "Hendrick really misses Renata. Dearly." "I understand. Renata misses Hendrick. But the times, they've changed. We've talked about this. And as much as we dance around it, we're not them." "What if we could be them? I mean, be them again?" Tanner smiled, as much as he enjoyed Jack's flights of fancy, reality was what it was. "No, I mean it. The Soviets, the Commies, are up to no good in Germany. And in this post war world they are no longer allies but enemy number one. Germany is splitting into halves, Allied and theirs. No one knows what they're up to, but it's in our interest to know first." Tanner smiled. "And a couple of people who were familiar with the country and intelligence apparatus might be a valuable asset." "Especially as the post war Germans will work with us and not against us. They fear the Russians too, far more than the Americans and English. Hendrick and Renata together again. It can actually happen." He paused for a long while. "May I see her? Now I mean?" "Give me forty minutes to an hour." Seeing Renata, with her German styled hair and clothes, it all came flooding back. He couldn't help himself and pulled her close kissing her deeply as tears flowed down both their faces. "God I've missed you so," Jack whispered into her ear. They made passionate, selfless, love well into early hours of the morning. +++++ The End +++++ Diana Kimberly Heche