Sechste Welt

[Keeper]

Sechste Welt

Divergance Point: Date Unknown.

Hanover, Germany, 1899.

The early morning fog was clearing in the heat of the sun.
Katerin Kreiger pulled the hem of her long skirt up to her knees as prepared to leap across the stream.
Most of the kids her age would need a run up but 12 year old Katerin could manage it from a standing start.

On the other side, she scrambled up the smooth, weather worn rock to stand at the top at least fifteen or twenty feet above the mossy grass below.
Looking around to make sure there was no one anywhere near the place she saw only the open space by the stream and the dark greens of the forest surrounding her little glade.
Katerin's heart was beating hard in her chest as she began to unbutton her dress.

**

The boys ran through the trees towards the black castle where the big ogre lived. They were armed with their sword shaped branches and the stout hearts of heroes.
Pieter stopped as they got to a hollow and gathered the boys, his fellow knights, together.
As king elect, and eldest boy, he got to plan the attack.
“Knights of Hanover, we are close to the ogres lair,” he said. “We must cross the great river and climb the mount to get to the gates. But there may patrols of goblins and we cannot risk being discovered. I need a scout. Hans?”

Hans nodded ans scooted up over the banks of the hollow.
The boy's would wait patiently for his return.
Suddenly and a lot sooner than Pieter expected Hans was back looking very excited and perplexed at the same time. You lot have got to see this!” he exclaimed in the hoarse whisper.
“See what?” blond Gunther asked.
“Crazy Kat is stood on a rock by the stream unbuttoning her dress!”

Pieter didn't like Katerin. They were the same age but even so she always looked at him the same way his mother did, usually disapprovingly!

Pieter, Gunther, Hans, Willem, Karl and Heinrich raced through the trees towards the stream.
Hans led them carefully to the rocks from where he had spotted Katerin.

They whispered and Willem giggled as they vied for the best position to be able to see.

**

The girl already had dress folded down to her waist and was unbuttoning her blouse.

Silence descended upon the group of boys as blouse slid away to reveal her pale flesh.
Karl gave a slight gasp. Willem sniggered and gave Karl a nudge with his elbow.

[Keeper]

Katerin sighed when her blouse slid off. She found the clothes so confining.
The warm sun on her skin sent a shudder through her body.
She gave a sly grin as she thought how much trouble she'd be in if her mother could see her now. Even more if it was Frau Litzlieg who caught her.
Arching her back, pushing her chest forward she unfurled the leathery wings at her back. They weren't very big yet, not like her father's but she should be able to at least glide with them.
Spreading out her wings, she reached up with her hands and stood on tip toe, stretching the aches and tiredness from her muscles.
Katerin had spent alll day yesterday looking for somewhere secluded enough, and with a high enough platform for her to jump off.
She'd been so nervous that she hadn't slept a wink.

**

“My god!” Pieter said, his mouth suddenly dry and his voice hoarse.
Although he didn't really get on with Katerin he was seeing her in a whole new light now, he suddenly realised how pretty she was.
Heinrich snorted. “It's just a girl,” he grumbled, not seeing what all the fuss was about.
“Shut up,” Pieter snapped. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the girls young body. She was already showing signs of her maturing womanhood and he found himself fascinated.
The weave worked its magic and hid the spreading wings from the boys. All except one.

[Keeper]

Ten year old Karl von Geller stared at the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
He'd only lived in Hanover for a couple of months and he had never met Katerin, although Willem had mentioned her a few times.

It wasn't her nudity that kept his attention, although it was a pleasant sight to behold, it was the bluish tinge too her skin, the reptilian eyes but mostly it was the outspread wings.
He knew there were strange things in the world, he'd seen them even when his friends saw something normal. However, he'd never seen a girl with wings.

**

Katarin knew she'd lose courage if she stopped now so she took a few steps back, folded her wings slightly into the flight pattern she'd seen her fathers in, and sprinted for the edge.

**

“What's she doing?” Hans whispered. “Is she going to jump?”
He didn't have to wait for an answer.

**

Katarin launched herself off the rock, wings poised for flight. She actually caught the air and glided for at least a few yards before loosing strength and altitude and then crashing to the ground.

Pieter was up on his feet howling with laughter and pointing mockingly at the girl. He couldn't believe she'd just thrown herself off the rock. Suddenly their nickname for her seemed all the more appropriate; Crazy Kat had done it again!

Kat heard the sudden laughter and scrambled to her feet wrapping her arms about herself in self conscious embarrassment.
Where the hell did they come from? She'd felt sure no one came here.
She was so embarrassed about being caught here semi-naked that she didn't have time to feel disappointed with her first attempt at flying.
When she realised it was Pieter laughing at her, her heart sank.
The boys ran in all of them laughing, all except for the on at the back.

“What were you doing? You really are crazy!” Pieter taunted.
Gunther scrambled up the rock. “I've got your blouse,” he taunted flaunting the pale blue garment.

Gathering around the half naked girl they continued to laugh, going over the event again and again, their tones a mixture of disbelief, amazement and derision. All the while Gunther remained just out of Katarin's reach.

Pieter led the taunts and was very scathing, although he secretly wanted to see Kat's chest again.

It was Karl who intervened, grabbing the blouse from Gunther. “That's enough guys, she's really embarrassed.”

“Karl, are you sweet on her?” Willem asked. He was Karl's best friend in Hanover and although he sounded mocking, his eyes searched Karl's face to see the reaction.

“No!” Karl protested, but Katarin knew it was a lie. She always knew when someone was lying.
The knowledge made her smile.

Pieter snatched the blouse from Karl. “She can have it back when she stands before the king!” he announced.

Karl frowned. He knew what Pieter was doing; one last humiliation for Kat and one more chance for him to leer at her.
“Come on man, leave her alone. Let her get dressed.”

“I'm the king, remember? I make the rule in this kigndom and I say she stands to attention before me.” With that Pieter grabbed Katerin's arm and tried to pull it down to her side.

The young half-dragon resisted easily, she was already far stronger than any of the boys here. What concerned her more was what they might say to their parents, or her parents, or anyone else really.
“If I do what you want you'll give me my clothes and you won't tell anyone about this.” It wasn't a question.

Pieter grinned. “Okay.”
“No!” Karl objected. He felt strangely protective of the girl-dragon.
“Don't tell me, no!” Pieter said shoving Karl away.
“Hey!” Karl stepped up to his friend and pushed him back, wrenching the blouse from the boy's grasp and throwing it at Katarin.
Pieter tried to grab it but Karl jumped him.

The boys scrambled on the floor, thumping, smacking and thumping again as the opportunity arose.
The other boys formed a loose circle, goading the two combatants and encouraging them.
Katarin used the distraction to run behind the rock and get dressed.

Pieter scrambled out from under Karl and as the younger boy stood he threw a hard punch. It caught Karl on the nose knocking him to the floor.
Blood flowed from Karl's nostrils and the crimson fluid brought a halt to the excitement.
“Sheißer!” Hans said.
Pieter knew he'd overstepepd the boundary and decided to change the subject.
“Knights of Hanover,” he announced. “Karl is no longer a knight and is exiled from my kingdom. Come, we have an ogre to vanquish.” He hefted his stick-sword and proceeded towards the 'castle'.
The other boys all followed, whooping their glee at the up-coming battle.
Willem gave Karl a parting nod. “Soryy, Karl. See you.”

Katarin came back around the rock. “Are you all right?” she asked crouching next to Karl.
He nodded.
Kat removed a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to the boy.

It took several minutes to stem the flow of blood.
He sat by the stream, washing the small, lace edge piece of cloth.
“I don't think they're big enough yet,” he said sheepishly.
“What aren't?” Katarin looked puzzled. Was he being rude?
“Your wings. I watched hatchlings in a nest on my father's roof last spring and their wings were much bigger compared to their size than yours are. Before they could fly, that is.”

“You can see my wings?” Katarin was shocked.
“And you blue skin. I don't think you're crazy.”
Kat smiled. “Thanks. I'm Katarin Krieger,” she held out her hand.

Karl smiled back, taking the hand in his. It was so soft and warm and he felt something like electricity flow up his arm at the contact. He then felt his face flush. He shook Kat's hand like he'd seen his father do with people he met.
“Hello, dragon-girl. I'm Karl von Geller. I'm very pleased to meet you.”

They didn't let go of each others hand for some time.

[Keeper]

JANUARY 1918, THE FRANCO-GERMAN BORDER

“Cigarette?”
Von Geller raised his weary head to look at the young Lieutenant.
“Yes, thank you Herr Leutnant.”
The older man like the new platoon commander, even though he was one of the Kaiser's new wave officers.
Most of them were too keen and full of the glory of German might.
Leutnant Forster was at least open to the reality that since the Americans arrived they have steadily lost ground.
To von Geller it was inevitable that Germany would lose with so much of the world against them.
Win or lose he just wished it would be over so he could get back to a normal life. He'd been a policeman before the war, and even though that job had seemed to be full of risks it was nothing compared to the suicidal charges he and his men has made against the British and American trenches. He's take the Friday night brawls with the usual Hanover drunks over this any day of the year.

He was glad that his company had been picked to go and babysit a bridge in the forest over a fast flowing river. They had been decimated over the last few months and their ranks had been back-filled with other decimated units.

“I hear from command that we have withdrawn from the Belgian coast. Also the British tried to punch through the Hindenburg Line at the start of December, but we pushed them back. Command says that there is going to be a major push soon, Flanders, I think.”
“Is that so?” von Geller mused. “Do they say if we will be going back to the front to beat back the flaccid British?” The ironic tone was not lost on the officer who smiled.
“Careful Feldwebell von Geller, if others hear you, you may end up on charges of sewing dissension in the ranks!”

Von Geller blew a long stream of smoke out into the cold night air.
“How long have you been in the army, vizefeldwebel?” the leutnant asked.
“Since the start of 1915,” von Geller replied.
“And you are a Company Sergeant-Major already? I hear they are looking to make you Regimental Sergeant Major. You have risen fast.”
“Not that fast, Herr Leutnant, I came in as a corporal.”
the young officer's brows furrowed. It was unusual for a conscript to come into the army at such a rank as Unteroffizier.
Von Geller saw the officer's expression.
“I was polizei before the war. They wanted men of authority to join up and lead the ranks of conscripts. Hauptmann Locke was my commissar. He too joined the war effort.”
Captain Locke was now the regimental commanding officer. Word had it that he'd soon be promoted to major to reflect his position.

A deep rumble rolled across the sky like thunder.
“Is that artillery?” the lieutenant asked.
“Yes, ours I think.”
“It is. Giving the Americans what for,” a young lance-corporal with a bushy Cossack moustache put in. This was one of the new men in the company. A career soldier brought in to bolster the NCO's from the company who had taken heavy losses of late.
“Damned Americans! They should stay out of Europe's affairs!” the lance-corporal went on. “You know who leads them, don't you?”
Von Geller laughed. “Here you go again!” to the lieutenant's questioning look he added, “Gefrieter Hitler here has an interesting theory about the state of our country and of the American nation too. Tell the Leutnant all about it, Adolf.”
The lance-corporal joined them at the bench table, placing his hot steaming mug in front of him.
“It's the Jews, Herr Leutnant!”
“The Jews?”
“Yes, they are everywhere, infecting the world with their own agendas. The Americans are ruled by them, the the French too. And now they pick away at the Fatherland. Why else would America join a war so far away from their own lands? This war does not threaten them, but their Jews are supporting their brothers over here. If the British and Americans defeat us then the damned Jews will have a stranglehold over the country. They are the reason we fall back now, our Jewish politicians controlling the army.
The lieutenant was a little sceptical. “Is it not the greater numbers and better weapons that overwhelm us?”
“That's what I asked,” von Geller said amused by Hitler's hurt expression.
“Well you would think that wouldn't you?” Hitler accused, his eyes creasing at the corners unable to his the smile forming.
“What's that supposed to mean?” von Geller asked feigning pain, but knowing exactly where this conversation was going.
“Well,” Hitler exaggerated the word, “Geller's a Jewish name isn't it!”
“Gefrieter Hitler, I have told you before, my name is von Geller. Yes, I believe there are some Jewish Gellers about, but as my family name derives from the town of Geller, east of Hamburg, as you well know, then there is no connection between me and your beloved Jews.”
Leutnant Forster looked nervously at his NCO's. The last thing he wanted was tension between his unit commanders.

[Keeper]

The conversation was interrupted as a sergeant from No 2 company came riding down the road.
Seeing the three figures hunched over and the bench the sergeant reigned the horse back, its hooves skidding on the damp cobbles.
He looked down at the three smoking men. “Where is Oberleutnant Geist?” the sergeant demanded.
“What's this about?” Forster asked standing and approaching the horseman.
“Apologies,” the rider said dismounting and coming to attention before the officer. “Herr, Leutnant, I did not realise it was you. Hauptmann Locke requires the presence of yourself and Oberleutnant Geist. Sorry, sir.”
“That is all right, Vizefeldwebel, no harm done. Be more observant in the future. I shall alert the Oberleutnant. Please return and inform the captain we are on our way.”
“Mein Herr,” the staff-sergeant saluted and rode back up the road.

**

Hitler watched the lieutenant hurry down the street towards the oberleutnant's lodgings.
“He's okay,” the lance corporal commented.
“Yes,” von Geller agreed.
“Got any Marks?” Hitler asked.
“Enough,” the sergeant-major replied cautiously.
“Good. Go round up some of the gullible ones, let's play cards. I'll deal.” Hitler took a beaten pack of cards from his breast pocket.
Von Geller snatched them from him. “You go round up some players, you cheat, I'll deal,” he accused.
Hitler huffed. “Only better than you,” he fired back.” None-the-less the lance corporal disappeared to go and find men with spare money.

[Keeper]

15 DAYS LATER...

“Feldwebel?”
Von Geller turned to face Leutnant Forster. “Mein Herr?”
“I need you to take a couple of platoons from No. 1 company up to the forest where you saw those British scouts. You will be escorting a special unit who are on their way and are going to root out the spies.”
“Can we not do that ourselves, Herr Forster?” He was angry that command thought his men couldn't cope.
“Apparently not.” Forster seemed as annoyed as Von Geller.

**

“Where we going sarge?” a soldier asked. He received a smack across the back of his spiked helmet from Hitler.
“The sergeant-major will tell you when he's ready,” the Lance corporal barked. “Now get in line!”
Von Geller waited until the thirty men were assembled correctly. “We are going back to the forest north of town. Make sure you all have ammunition and cold weather clothing. If you don't get it from someone who does, they won't be needing it here. And get a couple of mules to carry food. We could be out there for a while.”

**

The trucks arrived two hours later, causing quite a stir in the sleepy French village that was more used to horse-drawn transport. The vehicle coughed and spluttered their way to the town square.

Hauptman Locke was there to greet the new arrivals.
First to alight from the cab of the lead truck was another captain.
As soon as the officers exchanged greeting the rest of the men disembarked.
The hairs on the back of von Geller's neck stood on end as he saw the soldiers. They were all big strong tough looking men, but some were more than that. They appeared to be wolves, mean angry wolves, standing like men in their barely fitting uniforms.
One of the wolf men saw von Geller staring at him and snarled, then his expression turned to one of suspicion when the human didn't flinch. They always flinched.

“Would you look at them!” Gefreiter Hitler hissed from the side of his mouth. “Even the officers look mean. Take the captain. If he isn't the perfect example of how a true German soldier should look then I don't know what is.”
Von Geller broke eye contact with the wolf-man to look at the officer. He must have been over six feet tall, broad strong shoulders. His hair was blond to the point of being almost white and his eyes, like von Geller's own were a startling blue.
“Looks a bit like you, Feldwebel!” Hitler grinned to emphasise the sincerity of the comment, but von Geller couldn't tell if he was serious or not. In truth, the lance-corporal was right, the two did have a similar build and similar colouring.
“If we had an army of men like these,” Hitler mused, “who could stand before us? Oh, you've made a friend already!” he nodded towards the wolf-man. He's giving you the old evil eye!”
“I noticed,” von Geller said a little detached.
“Don't think he likes you,” Hitler remarked. “I wouldn't mess with him Karl, he looks a bit of an animal to me. Believe me, I can tell.”
Von Geller cast the corporal an odd glance but said nothing.
“Good job they're on our side. If we find any British out there it'll be like giving lambs to the wolves.” Hitler hefted his pack onto his back.
“Why did you say that?” von Geller asked.
“What?”
“Lambs to the wolves?”
Hitler shrugged. “Oh, no reason.”
The sergeant-Major knew the man was lying. He knew that lance-corporal Adolf Hitler could see these men for what they were, whatever the hell that was.


The march to the forest was uneventful, though Karl von Geller could sense some cataclysmic event was about to unfold. It wasn't down to any precognitive foresight, he simply had a gut feeling.
The new arrivals marched in silence behind von Geller's men, Leutnant Forster, for all intents and purposes leading the patrol.
Every now and then he would turn to the sergeant major to 'discuss' their route. At that point von Geller would point the officer in the right direction and off they would go again.

They stopped once en-route for a “piss break” as von Geller had crudely put it, and the feldwebel thought the blond Hauptmann in charge of this unusual group of soldiers would moan.
Instead he seemed ready for a break himself, as did many of his unit.
“Dogs!” von Geller mused silently. “Got to piss on everything they pass!”

He noticed Adolf trying to break the ice between the human and not-so-human soldiers.
“What are you up to?” he wondered.

[Keeper]

Once they reached the forest where they had seen the British and established a base camp, Hitler was back amongst them, chatting friendlily.

The Hauptmann sent scouts out in twos and threes. None of Forster's men were required.

“What's their story?” the feldwebel asked later that night when Hitler handed him a steaming mug.
“Hard ones to crack,” Hitler replied. Von Geller knew it was a lie. “They won't talk much about their past. The whole unit is from some place in the Black Forest, a little place called Brudden.”
Von Geller had never heard of it.
“Keep your ears open, but be careful. Oh, and Adolf?”
“Ya?”
“You got my twenty Marks?”
Hitler squirmed, “No.”
“You sure there's not a little Jewish in you?” von Geller grinned.
The lance corporal smarted. “I'll get your money, no need to be insulting!”

[Keeper]

For two days the soldiers remained in the camp they had set up, whilst the wolves continued to send out scouts. It struck von Geller as odd that for such a fearsome bunch of creatures they seemed to be very cautious in what they were doing.

Von Geller sat under a waxed canvas tarpaulin smoking a cigarette, listening to the rain drip through the trees and hammer loudly on his make-shift roof.
The familiar form of lance corporal Hitler walked past him with one of the wolf men.
“What's happening Adolf?” von Geller asked.
The lance corporal stopped, seemingly annoyed that he had been interrupted. Seeing von Geller he snapped a response. “If you showed some interest in what was going on then perhaps you'd be a little more involved and not sat here scratching your arse all day.”
Von Geller was too taken aback by the retort to react to the insubordination.
The ex-policeman held his hands up in submission to stave off any further outbursts. If Hitler felt comfortable enough to speak like that to him then it meant he would likely have the ear of the new Hauptmann. Which meant that young Adolf would probably know what was going on.

Hitler turned away and seeing the wolf man had not stopped to wait, he hurried to catch up.

“What's he up to?” von Geller wondered, then the policeman in him just had to investigate.
Waiting for the pair to disappear amongst the tents, von Geller grabbed his helmet and rifle and followed, keeping his pursuit discreet.

The two soldiers led Karl to the Hauptmann's tent where they entered unannounced, Hitler actually entering first.
Von Geller was so used to military protocol that such behaviour was immediately suspicious.
He sat watching for a while but no one came back out.
After watching for a few more minutes he returned to his shelter and shivered, wondering just what it was that Hitler was up to.
The corporal had always been the sort to snivel up to the higher ranking officers, this much von Geller had learned from some of the men who had come across him before.
But this crowd of wolf-men and their leader had been so stand-offish with the regular soldiers that their sudden acceptance of the corporal seemed unusual.
Sitting back against the damp trunk of the gnarled old elm, von Geller pulled another cigarette from his pack, noting with a degree of disappointment that there were only four left.
He blew smoke into the air and closed his eyes, his head dropping against the tree and dreamed of home.

[Keeper]

Heavy foot falls emerged from the sound of the rain drumming noisily on the tarpaulin and a sodden man in a heavy waxed coat slumped down under the cover accompanied by a long sigh.
“Good evening, sergeant,” the man with heavy set features, large bushy moustache and striking blue eyes said.
“Hello Private Creutzfeldt. Where have you been all day?”
Creutzfeldt nodded his head in a generally easterly direction.
“Back to town to pick up supplies, and these.” He produced a leather satchel from under his coat containing a few letters. “Not many this time but one of them is for you.”
Creutzfeldt handed a crisp white envelope across with a grin. “Looks like a ladies writing Sarge. You been holding out on us?”
Von Geller chuckled. “not holding out anything, Albert. And I’m not expecting a letter from any girl so don’t ask who she is because I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you going to open yours?” Creutzfeldt asked grinning again.
“Not in front of you, no.”
Creutzfeldt put a defensive hand up. “Okay Sarge,” he laughed. “You can tell me about her later.”
“What about you Albert, you going to tell me about your letter?”
“How do you know I got one?”
“Because you asked ‘aren’t you going to open yours?’, which implies that you too had a letter.”
Cruetzfeldt grunted a laugh. “Forgot you were a cop, Feldwebel.”
He fished around in a shirt pocket, pulling an already much thumbed letter from within.
Inside the letter was a photograph of a young boy, his shoulders broad like his father’s, hair dark and unkempt. He was standing in front of a small house, a bicycle held before him.
“This is my son, Wolfgang. It was his eighth birthday a few weeks ago and we bought him this bike.”
“He looks like a fine boy,” von Geller said. “Can he ride?”
“Yes, he used his cousin’s last summer.”
Creutzfeldt sighed heavily as he stared at the picture.
“Something wrong?” the sergeant asked.
“It is my wife, Janice. She is American. The owner of the bicycle shop wouldn’t sell her the bike. My father had to go there instead. She was very upset. The war is difficult for her and she misses her family.”
“The cheeky bastard!” von Geller cursed, handing his cigarette packet to the other man. “I hope Herr Creutzfeldt gave the shopkeeper an ear bashing. That woman’s husband if fighting for the Fatherland. He should be ashamed.”
“Indeed! And when this war is over I shall return home and give the man a piece of my mind too!” Creutzfeldt smacked his fist into the palm of his other hand, indicating just how that piece was going to be delivered. Both men chuckled.
They sat then in silence and smoked, watching the rain become worse, driving down now not as drops but in continuous rods.
“Sarge?” Creutzfeldt said, breaking the lengthy silence.
Von Geller cast him a sideways glance.
“If I don’t make it home, will you tell Janice to take Wolfgang to America? They will both need her family.”
Von Geller watched him for a while. “Yeah,” he nodded noting his friend’s request alongside many similar requests he had received.
He wondered why all his men just assumed he would still be alive at the end of it all. What made them assume he wouldn’t die alongside them?
“Thank you, Karl,” Creutzfeldt said as he climbed to his feet and shoved the mail satchel back under his coat. “I had best deliver the rest of these.”

[Keeper]

After Creutzfeldt had gone von Geller lit the lamp beside him.
They had been told not to use lamps outside, but the rain was coming down so hard that he could barely see the tents in the encampment, so he thought to hell with it!
He opened his letter. Albert had been right, of course, it was from a woman. He had not spoken or otherwise communicated with her since the early days of the war.
He angled the paper towards the lamp and read…

My Dearest Karl,

The war trudges onward and for many long months I assumed you were dead, but there was always a part of me that knew you could not be. I had many arguments with father about it.
I have followed you movements as best I can. Father’s business contacts in the Ministry of War have proven useful for that, but after a major battle is won or lost, I sometimes lost track of you.
It seems you have taken to soldiering and are performing well; Sergeant Major now and they are hoping to promote you soon, from what I have been hearing. Is that something you want? Or could your advancement be something that is just happening as a consequence of you being you and hating to do anything badly?
Oh, dear, it seems I am rambling. I’m normally so concise, however, when you are in my thoughts I become muddled, a bit like a silly schoolgirl. Why is that, do you think?
I suppose I ought to get to the point as quickly as possible.
The war effort is struggling, our industries are producing what they can, but supplies run low. The Americans blockade the Atlantic so our suppliers cannot get through. There are many within the Reich that believe the end of the war will be upon us soon, with Germany on the losing side.
My father agrees with them from a normal point of view.
But we know that not all things are normal. My family and I, and you. Germany has made allies recently that if allowed to could change the course of this war and ensure victory for the Fatherland.
The war is not just about battle fought in field, trenches or even densely wooded hillside where experienced soldiers nestle under tarpaulins to hide from the rain, waiting for something interesting to happen…..

Von Geller frowned at the letter and then cast his gaze around the perimeter of the encampment. How did she know? There was only one way; she had seen him! He read on.

......No, war is also about the outcome. As it stands, victory for Germany would come at a cost that would bring Europe to its knees. These new allies would take control and Germany would become their puppet as they enslave every country on the continent.
You have seen the sorts I speak of, you have seen their soldiers amongst you and you know that they are capable of that which I have written.
This future would not be good for Germany, for Europe or for… those others that exude power over this world.
They must be stopped, Karl, even if this secures Germany’s defeat. Better that than the consequences of victory.
I know you are a good man, Karl, and loyal to our country but my father has asked me to stop Hauptman Wessler from achieving his goal. I find you there so now I would ask that you help me.
Wessler does search for British spies, as he would have you and your soldiers believe, though I doubt very much that you believed him anyway.
He does in fact search for something far more deadly. He looks for one of our own, a direct descendant of Azareth, a drake of immense power. Through arcane means he intends to do two things. First he will create an army of his wolf-men that will tear through the ranks of the British and American ranks as though they were nothing more than infants in a playground. His second goal is more personal. He has created a weapon to use against my kind and wishes to test it for he knows that we will try to stop him.

Now I must ask you to make a choice, help me, or do not. One choice will secure victory for Germany in this war, the other will lead ultimately to defeat. I will not think less of you should you refuse me. I never have before, but I do truly hope with all my heart that I have your aid. You just have to let me know, for I will likely be unsuccessful without you.

All my love

Katerin


PS. Look up!

Von Geller frowned once more at the letter and reread the last part.
He looked up.