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Book: Chosen of the Valkyries (Twilight Of The Gods Book 2) by Christopher Nuttall
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Authors: Christopher Nuttall
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able to hide behind her sex. If she was guilty, she’d be tortured to death ... it went against the grain to inflict such horrendous punishment on a German girl, but it had to be done. And then her entire family would be killed too ...
Serves them right for letting her get out of hand , he thought, nastily. Her father should have beaten any trace of rebelliousness out of her before she grew into a young woman.
“I will certainly do my upmost to ensure she is brought here,” Katharine said coolly, breaking into his thoughts. “But you do realise that smuggling one prisoner, let alone a dozen, out of Berlin will not be easy?”
“You may have to keep them under wraps in the city until it falls,” Karl said. Berlin was vast, easily large enough for an experienced team to hide for weeks if necessary. The normal surveillance systems were completely offline. “I know it won’t be easy, but it has to be done.”
“I understand, Mein Führer ,” Katharine said. She rose, a movement that drew his attention to her chest. “And we will do our very best to deliver the traitors to you in chains.”
Chapter Five
Near Vichy, France
2 September 1985
“Wake up,” Horst said, poking her shoulder lightly. “We’re almost there.”
Gudrun opened her eyes, then stretched. Sunlight was pouring in through the windows, revealing that they were driving up a mountainside road towards a large French building half-hidden in the foliage. Guards could be seen everywhere, manning the gates and patrolling the grounds, wearing desert tan uniforms and flat caps that reminded her of something she’d seen back in school. The Foreign Legion, she recalled, as the driver took them through the gates and parked outside the chateau. Foreigners who’d travelled to France to fight for her - and leave their pasts behind.
Horst scowled. “They’re not supposed to be here,” he said, grimly. “By treaty, the Foreign Legion isn't meant to return to Mainland France.”
“They’re probably making a statement,” Gudrun said. “Trying to tell us they won’t be pushed around any longer.”
She rolled her eyes in irritation. Being a councillor - even one without portfolio - had been an education in more ways than one. She’d known there was something deeply wrong about the Reich ever since she’d discovered just what had happened to her former boyfriend, but she’d never truly grasped the full extent of its evil. The Vichy French had been Germany’s unwilling allies since 1940, trapped within the Reich’s network of satellite states, unable to move to partnership or escape Germany’s grasp. The slightest hint of nationalist sentiment would have been enough to get the panzers moving, back before the coup.
And the French were lucky, compared to some of the others , she thought, numbly. At least there’s still a nation that calls itself France .
“Here we are,” Horst said, as a man in a light brown suit opened the car door. “Just remember not to give away more than we have to give away.”
Gudrun shot him a dark look as she stepped out into the warm air. France was warmer than Germany, she’d been told, particularly as the world inched remorselessly towards winter. A number of her teachers had even made fun of the French, insisting that they were weak because they’d grown up in such a pleasant climate. Gudrun wasn't sure if that was true - she’d been told thousands of lies at school - but she put the thought firmly out of her mind anyway. This was a bad time for a three-sided war.
“We cannot afford major trouble on our western borders,” Volker Schulze had said, before she’d departed Berlin. “If we have to make concessions to keep the French quiet, we will make concessions.”
Horst stayed behind her as she was escorted through a pair of doors and into a sitting room that was, quite evidently, a
Serves them right for letting her get out of hand , he thought, nastily. Her father should have beaten any trace of rebelliousness out of her before she grew into a young woman.
“I will certainly do my upmost to ensure she is brought here,” Katharine said coolly, breaking into his thoughts. “But you do realise that smuggling one prisoner, let alone a dozen, out of Berlin will not be easy?”
“You may have to keep them under wraps in the city until it falls,” Karl said. Berlin was vast, easily large enough for an experienced team to hide for weeks if necessary. The normal surveillance systems were completely offline. “I know it won’t be easy, but it has to be done.”
“I understand, Mein Führer ,” Katharine said. She rose, a movement that drew his attention to her chest. “And we will do our very best to deliver the traitors to you in chains.”
Chapter Five
Near Vichy, France
2 September 1985
“Wake up,” Horst said, poking her shoulder lightly. “We’re almost there.”
Gudrun opened her eyes, then stretched. Sunlight was pouring in through the windows, revealing that they were driving up a mountainside road towards a large French building half-hidden in the foliage. Guards could be seen everywhere, manning the gates and patrolling the grounds, wearing desert tan uniforms and flat caps that reminded her of something she’d seen back in school. The Foreign Legion, she recalled, as the driver took them through the gates and parked outside the chateau. Foreigners who’d travelled to France to fight for her - and leave their pasts behind.
Horst scowled. “They’re not supposed to be here,” he said, grimly. “By treaty, the Foreign Legion isn't meant to return to Mainland France.”
“They’re probably making a statement,” Gudrun said. “Trying to tell us they won’t be pushed around any longer.”
She rolled her eyes in irritation. Being a councillor - even one without portfolio - had been an education in more ways than one. She’d known there was something deeply wrong about the Reich ever since she’d discovered just what had happened to her former boyfriend, but she’d never truly grasped the full extent of its evil. The Vichy French had been Germany’s unwilling allies since 1940, trapped within the Reich’s network of satellite states, unable to move to partnership or escape Germany’s grasp. The slightest hint of nationalist sentiment would have been enough to get the panzers moving, back before the coup.
And the French were lucky, compared to some of the others , she thought, numbly. At least there’s still a nation that calls itself France .
“Here we are,” Horst said, as a man in a light brown suit opened the car door. “Just remember not to give away more than we have to give away.”
Gudrun shot him a dark look as she stepped out into the warm air. France was warmer than Germany, she’d been told, particularly as the world inched remorselessly towards winter. A number of her teachers had even made fun of the French, insisting that they were weak because they’d grown up in such a pleasant climate. Gudrun wasn't sure if that was true - she’d been told thousands of lies at school - but she put the thought firmly out of her mind anyway. This was a bad time for a three-sided war.
“We cannot afford major trouble on our western borders,” Volker Schulze had said, before she’d departed Berlin. “If we have to make concessions to keep the French quiet, we will make concessions.”
Horst stayed behind her as she was escorted through a pair of doors and into a sitting room that was, quite evidently, a
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