Chapter 10 Chapter nine

The gigantic, smoky-black cathedral stands in the center of Reims City, looming, its existence like a reproach from heaven.At noon, Dieter Frank's sky-blue Hispano-Sousa pulled up outside the Frankfurt Hotel, which had been taken over by the German occupiers.Dieter got out of the car and glanced up at the thick twin towers of the cathedral.The original medieval design characterizes the elegant spire, which could never have been constructed without sufficient money, so that earthly obstacles can thwart the most sacred aspirations. Dieter asked Lieutenant Hesse to drive to the castle of Saint-Cecile to confirm that the Gestapo was indeed ready to cooperate.He himself didn't want to take any risks, for fear of being rejected again by Major Weber.Hesse drove away, and Dieter went upstairs to Stephanie's suite, where he had arranged for her to stay last night.

She rose from her chair as soon as he entered the room.He admired everything that greeted him—her red hair falling over her bare shoulders, her maroon silk pajamas and high-heeled slippers.He kissed her hungrily, his hands caressing her slender body, deeply grateful for the beauty God had given him. "It's good to see me making you so happy," she said with a smile.They spoke French when they were together, and they always did. Dieter sucked her breath. "Oh, you smell better than Hans Hesse, especially since he stays up all night and smells worse." She gently pushed his hair back: "You always like to joke. But you can't protect Hans with your body."

"That's true." He sighed and let go of her. "God, I'm so tired." "Go to bed." He shook his head and said, "I still have to interrogate the prisoners. Hesse will pick me up in an hour." He slumped on the sofa. "I'll get you something to eat." She rang the bell, and a minute later an elderly French waiter knocked on the door.Stephanie knew what Dieter liked to eat.She ordered a plate of sliced ​​ham, some warm rolls and potato salad. "Would you like some wine?" she asked. "No, I get sleepy when I drink."

"Then, another pot of coffee." She said to the waiter, and after the man left, she sat down by Dieter's sofa and took his hand. "Is everything going according to plan?" "Yes. Rommel praised me very much." He frowned anxiously, "I only hope that I live up to my promise to him." "I'm sure you will." She didn't ask for details.She knew that he had told her what he wanted to tell her, and he wouldn't say anything else. Dieter looked at her lovingly, wondering if he should speak out what was in his mind.That might spoil the euphoria - but it should be said anyway.He sighed again. "If the invasion succeeds, the Allies will win back France, and then it's over for you and me. You know that."

She trembled like a sudden pain, she let go of his hand and said, "I know." He knew that her husband had been killed shortly after the war started, and the two of them had no children. "Do you have any other family members?" he asked her. "My parents died a few years ago. I have a sister in Montreal." "Maybe we should think about sending you there." She shook her head again and again and said, "No." "why?" She dodged his eyes. "I just hope the war ends," she murmured. "No, you don't want to." There was a gleam of anger in her eyes, which was rare. "Of course I do."

"You're a little uncharacteristic," he said contemptuously. "You can't think war is a good thing!" "If it weren't for the war, you and I wouldn't be together." "But what about all the pain?" "I'm an existentialist. War makes people who they really are - sadists become torturers, psychopaths form brave frontline troops, bullies and victims a chance to maximize themselves, prostitutes It's been a busy day." She is very angry. "This clarifies my role." He caressed her soft cheek and touched her lips with his fingertips. "You're a courtesan—and an old hand."

She turned her head to the side. "That's not what you meant at all. You just made it up to the tune, like you were sitting there playing the piano." He nodded with a smile, and he could play a little jazz, much to the dismay of his father.The metaphor is very appropriate, he is just sorting out various thoughts, rather than expressing a certain conclusion. "Perhaps you are right." Her anger dissipated, and she said with a sad face: "You mean if the Germans leave France, we will separate?" He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him.She relaxed and rested her head on his chest.He kissed her on the head and stroked her hair. "That's not going to happen," he said.

"Are you sure?" "I promise." It was the second time in a day that he had made a promise he might not be able to keep. The waiter returns with lunch and the magic is broken.Dieter was so tired that he almost forgot his hunger, but he ate a few mouthfuls and finished his coffee.Then he washed and shaved again and felt much better.He was putting on a clean uniform shirt when Lieutenant Hesse knocked on the door.Dieter kissed Stephanie and walked out. The cars avoided the streets that had just been blocked, and had been bombed the night before, destroying a whole row of houses near the railway station, and they left the town for the pilgrimage to Saint-Cécile.

Dieter told Rommel that interrogating the prisoners would allow him to weaken the resistance before the invasion came, but Rommel, like all military commanders, was skeptical of that promise and perhaps now was anticipating the results.Unfortunately, interrogation guarantees nothing.Smart prisoners tell unverifiable lies.When the torture becomes unbearable, they also commit suicide in various genius ways.If some resistance groups have tight security, everyone has only minimal knowledge of the others, and there is very little information of value.Worst of all, treacherous Allies could have fed false information into their heads, so that when they finally succumbed under torture, the confessions were part of a plan to deceive.

Dieter began to adjust his emotions. He needed a completely hard heart and scheming strategy. He could not allow himself to be touched by the physical and mental pain he was about to inflict on others.What matters is whether this approach works.He closed his eyes and felt a subtle stillness sink deep inside, a familiar chill that sometimes reminded him of death itself. The car drove into the courtyard of the castle.Workers repaired shattered windows and filled holes left by grenades.In the ornate lobby, the operators whispered into microphones in that constant tone.Dieter, followed by Hans Hesse, strode through the well-proportioned rooms of the east wing.They went downstairs and entered the heavily guarded basement. The sentry at the door saluted and did not stop Dieter in uniform.He found the door marked "Interrogation Center" and went in.

In the outer room, Willie Webb sat at a table.Dieter yelled: "Heil Hitler!" to a salute, forcing Weber to his feet.Dieter then pulled up a chair and sat down, then said: "Please sit down, Major." Weber was furious at being offered a seat at his headquarters, but he had no choice. Dieter said: "How many prisoners did we take?" "Three." Dieter was disappointed. "so little?" "We killed eight enemies in the encounter, and two of the more seriously wounded died last night." Dieter sighed himself unlucky.He had ordered the wounded to be kept alive, but there was no point in questioning Webb's treatment of them now. Weber went on: "I think two more got away—" "Yes," said Dieter, "the woman in the square, and the man she took away." "Exactly. So, fifteen attackers in all, we have three prisoners." "Where are they?" Weber looked sly. "Two are in jail." Dieter narrowed his eyes: "What about the third one?" Weber turned his head inward. "The third is under interrogation." Dieter stood up, very worried, and pushed open the door.Sergeant Becker stood hunchbacked in the room, holding a large baton-like wooden club in his hand.He was sweating profusely, panting heavily, as if he had just done some strenuous exercise.He had his eyes fixed on a prisoner bound to a post. Dieter looked at the prisoner, his fears confirmed.Despite his enforced composure, his face twitched violently in disgust.The prisoner was a young woman, Genevieve, who had concealed a Sten submachine gun under her coat.She is naked, and a rope is looped around her arms, tying her to a post and hooking her sinking body.Her face was so swollen that she couldn't open her eyes.Blood from his mouth covered his chin and a large area of ​​his chest.Her body had changed color and was covered in bruises and scars.An arm dangled at an odd angle, apparently from a dislocated shoulder.There was blood on her pubic hair. Dieter asked Becker: "What did she tell you?" Becker replied with some embarrassment: "I didn't say anything." Dieter nodded, suppressing his anger.He had expected this. He approaches the woman. "Genevieve, listen to me," he said in French. She gave no sign of hearing. "Do you want to rest now?" he tried again. Nothing happens. He turned around, and Weber was standing in the doorway, looking contemptuous.Dieter said in a cold and angry tone: "I have told you clearly that I will conduct the interrogation." "We were ordered to let you intervene," Weber boasted smugly, "but we are not prohibited from interrogating prisoners ourselves." "Are you satisfied with the results you have achieved?" Weber didn't answer. Dieter said, "What about the other two?" "We haven't started interrogating them yet." "Thank God," said Dieter, still disappointed that he had expected half a dozen interrogators instead of just two. "Take me to them." Webb nodded to Becker, who dropped his club and led the way out of the room.In the bright light of the hallway, Dieter saw that Becker's uniform was stained with blood.The sergeant stopped at a doorway with a peephole, and Dieter pulled down the panel and looked in. It is a room with bare walls and the ground is earth.The only decoration is a bucket in the corner.The two men sat on the ground, not talking, their eyes just staring at the air in a daze.Dieter watched them carefully, he had seen both of them yesterday.The older one was Gaston, the one with the dynamite, and he had an adhesive plaster on the cut on his scalp, which looked all right.The other was very young, about seventeen, and Dieter remembered his name as Bertrand.He was outwardly unhurt, but Dieter thought he might have been taken aback by the detonation of a grenade during the encounter. Dieter looked at the two of them for a while, thinking about it.He would act in the right way, and he could not waste another captive, these two were the only property left to him.The child might be frightened, he predicted, but it might also survive the torture.The other was too old for much torture and would probably die before confessing—but he might be soft-hearted.Dieter gradually figured out a strategy for interrogating them. He closes the peephole and returns to the interrogation room.Becker followed him, and Dieter thought again that this was a stupid but dangerous dog.Dieter said, "Sergeant Becker, release that woman and put her in the cell of the other two." Weber objected, "Put a woman in a man's cell?" Dieter stared at him suspiciously. "You think she'll be humiliated?" Becker walked into the execution room and brought out the broken Genevieve.Dieter said, "Let the old man take a good look at her and bring him here." Becker went. Dieter decides it's best to get rid of Weber.But he knew very well that if he was given an order directly, Weber would refuse to carry it out.So he said, "I think you should stay here and witness the interrogation. You can learn a lot from me." Dieter guessed right, and Weber really came in the opposite direction. "I don't think so," he said. "Becker can let me know at any time." Dieter feigned anger, and Weber walked out. Dieter looked at Hesse who was sitting quietly in the corner.Hesse understood that Dieter had tricked Weber away, and looked at Dieter with admiration.Dieter shrugged. "Sometimes it's all effortless," he said. Becker enters with Gaston.The old man was pale, and the sight of Genevieve undoubtedly frightened him.Dieter said in German: "Sit down, please. Would you like a cigarette?" Gaston was expressionless. This shows that he cannot understand German, and this situation must be mastered first. Dieter motioned him to sit down, then handed him a cigarette and matches.Gaston took a cigarette and lit it with trembling hands. Some prisoners break down at this stage, can't bear the thought of what is going to happen, and don't need to be sentenced. Dieter hopes that this is the case today.He had shown Gaston two options: one of Genevieve's horror, the other of cigarettes and kindness. Now, speaking in French, his tone is very friendly: "I want to ask you some questions." "I don't know anything," said Gaston. "No, I think you know," Dieter said, "you're sixty years old, and you've probably been around Reims all your life." Gaston didn't deny it.Dieter continued: "I know that members of the resistance organization use codes, and the personal information they share with each other is very limited. That's for safety reasons." Gaston nodded instinctively, agreeing. "But most of them you've known for decades. When resistance members meet, a guy might call himself an elephant, a priest, or an eggplant, but you know what he looks like, you know his name is Jean-Pierre, he's a postman , who lived on Park Street, who secretly had trysts with the widow Martineau every Tuesday, and made his wife think he was bowling." Gaston turned his head away, unwilling to meet Dieter's eyes, which confirmed that Dieter was right. Dieter continued: "I want you to understand that everything that happens here is up to you. Suffering, or freedom from suffering, death or probation. It's all up to you." Seeing Gaston look even more horrified, He is very satisfied. "You'll answer my questions," he went on, "and everyone will answer eventually. The only uncertainty is how long it will take." Some people would be overwhelmed by this moment, but not Gaston. "I can't tell you anything," he said, almost in a whisper.He's scared, but he still has some guts left, and he won't give up without a fight. Dieter shrugged.It seems that it is not easy.He told Becker in German: "Go back to the cell, undress the boy, bring him back and tie him to a post in the next room." "Yes, Major," said Becker flatteringly. Dieter turned to Gaston again and said, "You're going to tell me the names and codes of all the men and women you were with yesterday, and anyone else in the Resistance." Gaston shook his head, but Dieter Tell ignored it. "The address of every member I want to know, the address of every house used by members of the resistance." Gaston puffed on his cigarette, staring at the burning butt. In fact, these are not important issues.Dieter's main purpose is to obtain information that will allow him to find other resistance groups, but he cannot let Gaston know his purpose. A moment later, Becker returned with Bertrand.Gaston stared in amazement as the naked boy passed through the interrogation room and was led into the inner room. Dieter stood up, and he said to Hesse: "Look at the old man." Then he followed Becker into the execution chamber. He carefully left the door ajar so that Gaston could hear everything inside. Becker tied Bertrand to the post.Before Dieter could speak, Becker punched Bertrand in the stomach.This guy is so strong that most people can't stand it, and the sound of that fist is frightening.The young man screamed and writhed on the pillar. "No, no, no," Dieter said.As he expected, Becker's approach was completely unscientific, and it was very easy for a strong young man to withstand such a long beating. "First of all, you have to cover his eyes." He took out a large cotton handkerchief from his pocket and tied Bertrand's eyes. Every minute is painful anticipation." Becker picked up his stick.Dieter nodded, and Becker swung the stick and hit the victim's head with one blow. The hard wood collided with flesh and bones to make a crisp and loud noise.Bertrand cried out in shock and pain. "No, no," Dieter instructed again, "don't hit the head. That would dislocate the jaw and make the prisoner unable to speak. Worse, you might smash the brain, and any confessions he would make would be ruined." No value." He took the wooden stick from Becker, put it back on the umbrella stand, selected a steel crowbar from the weapons, and handed it to Becker. "Remember from now on, to inflict unbearable pain on the subject, but not to jeopardize his life or his ability to confess to us, avoiding the vital organs, concentrating on the bony parts, ankles, calves, knees, fingers, Elbows, shoulders, ribs." Becker had a sly look on his face.He circled the post, chose his position carefully, and swung the crowbar down hard on Bertrand's elbow.The boy let out a scream of pain, just what Dieter needed. Becker was delighted.God, Dieter thought to himself, forgive me for this barbaric teaching that was painfully effective. On Dieter's orders, Becker hit Bertrand's bony shoulder, then his hand, then his ankle.Dieter told Becker to pause and hit again, giving the pain enough time to ease a bit and endure the pain of the next blow. Bertrand began to beg for mercy: "Stop beating, please." He begged, almost hysterical with pain and fear.Becker raised the crowbar again, but Dieter stopped him.He wanted the begging to continue. "Please don't hit me," cried Bertrand, "please, please." Dieter told Becker: "Breaking a leg before the trial usually works. The pain of a broken leg is unbearable, and the pain is even worse when you hit a broken bone again." Pick out a sledgehammer. "Below the knees," he said, handing Becker the hammer, "as hard as you can." Becker looked at the position, swung the sledgehammer, and the tibia snapped and broke, and the sound was clearly audible.Bertrand passed out with a scream.Becker brought a bucket of water from the corner and splashed it on Bertrand's face.The young man regained consciousness and screamed again. Eventually, the screams turned into heartrending moans. "What do you want?" Bertrand begged. "Please, tell me what you want from me!" Dieter didn't ask him any questions.Instead, he handed Becker the steel crowbar, pointing to the jagged broken bone protruding from the calf muscle, and Becker struck hard there.Bertrand screamed and passed out again. Dieter felt that perhaps enough was enough. He went next door.Gaston was still sitting in the same place, but he seemed to have changed. He bent down, covered his face with his hands, wept loudly, and prayed to God again and again.Dieter crouched down and wrenched his hand away from his wet face.Gaston looked at him with teary eyes.Dieter said softly, "Only you can make it stop." "Please stop, please," Gaston moaned. "Are you answering my question?" There was a pause, and Bertrand screamed again. "Yes!" Gaston yelled, "Yes, yes, I'll tell you everything, just stop!" Dieter raised his voice and shouted: "Sergeant Becker!" "Yes, Major?" "Don't fight now." "Yes, Major." Becker sounded disappointed. Dieter switched to French again: "Now, Gaston, let's start with the leader of the Resistance. Tell me the name and the code. Who is he?" Gaston hesitated for a moment. Dieter looked towards the open door of the execution room. Gaston said quickly, "Michel Clarette. Code name is 'Monet'." This is a breakthrough, the first name is the most difficult to get, and the rest will follow naturally, without any effort.Dieter hid his pride, handed Gaston a cigarette and a match and said, "Where does he live?" "In Reims." Gaston let out a puff of cigarettes, and the trembling stopped, and he gave an address near the cathedral.Dieter nodded to Lieutenant Hesse, who took out a notebook and began to record Gaston's words.Dieter patiently got the names of all the commandos from Gaston, some of whom Gaston only knew the codes, two of whom he said he had never met before Sunday.Dieter believed him.Not far from the church, there were two other drivers in charge. Gaston said that one was a young woman named Gilberta, and the other was a man code-named "Marshal".There were others in the group, collectively known as the Bollinger Resistance. Dieter asked about the relationship between the resistance members: whether there were romantic affairs, whether someone was gay, whether anyone slept with other people's wives. Although the torture had stopped, Bertrand was still groaning and sometimes yelling because of the pain.Gaston asked now: "Will anyone take care of him?" Dieter shrugged. "Please, find him a doctor." "Okay...let's talk when we're done talking." Gaston told Dieter that Michel and Gilberta were lovers, but Michel had married Flick, the blonde girl in the square. So far, Gaston has been talking about an organization whose members have been largely wiped out, so his information should only be used as a guide.Now Dieter moved on to the bigger question: "When Allied agents came here, how did they make contact?" "Nobody knows how it's done," Gaston said.They have "cut off protection".However, he knew part of the situation.The agent hooks up with a woman codenamed "Middle Class."Gaston did not know where she would meet them, but she would take them first to her house and then to Michel. No one has ever seen a "middle class," not even Michelle.Dieter was a little disappointed that Gaston didn't know much about the woman, but that's what cutting off the shield was all about. "Do you know where she lives?" Gaston nodded and said, "An agent leaked out. She has a house at 11 DuBois Avenue." Dieter tried his best to hide his inner joy.This situation is too critical.The enemy is expected to send more agents to rebuild the Bollinger Organization.Dieter could catch them in their hiding place. "When are they leaving?" Gaston revealed that they were picked up by a plane at an airfield code-named "Stone Field", which was actually a pasture near Chatler Village.There was another landing site, code-named "Golden Fields," but he didn't know where it was. Dieter asked Gaston about his contacts with London.Who ordered the attack on the telephone exchange?Gaston said that Major Flick Claret was the commander of the organization, and that she had received orders from London.Hearing this, Dieter became interested.A woman is in command.But he had seen her bravery in the flames of war and knew she should be an excellent leader. Next door, Bertrand was pleading for a quick death. "Please," said Gaston, "get the doctor." "Tell me about Major Claret," said Dieter, "and then I'll get someone to give Bertrand an injection." "She's a very important person," said Gaston, eager to give him all the information he could find to satisfy him. "They say she's been in hiding longer than anyone else. She's been all over the North of France." Dieter asked obsessively: "She was in contact with different resistance groups?" "I think so." That's a rare feat - it means she probably has a lot of information about the French Resistance."She fled after the firefight yesterday. Where do you think she's going?" Dieter said. "Back to London, I'm sure," said Gaston, "to report on the raid." Dieter cursed secretly.He wished she was in France so he could catch her and interrogate her.If he could catch her, he could destroy most of the French resistance—that was what he had promised Rommel.But now she was out of reach. He stood up. "Come here now," he said. "Hans, get a doctor for the prisoners. I don't want any of them dead today—they've got a lot to tell us. Go back and type out your notes." , give it to me early in the morning." "Yes, Major." "Make a copy for Major Webb, but I'll give it when I say so." "clear." "I'll drive back to the hotel by myself." Dieter walked out. Once outside, his head started to hurt.Rubbing his forehead with his hands, he finally walked to the side of the car.He started the car and left the village, heading straight for Reims.The reflection of the afternoon sun off the road surface pierced his eyes.This migraine always came to him after interrogations.After an hour he will be blind and unable to do anything.He had to get back to the hotel before the worst of the attack.He doesn't like to hit the brakes and just keeps honking the horn.Vineyard workers strolling slowly toward the house flashed a passage for him.The frightened horse reared up, and the carriage rolled into the gutter.His eyes watered with pain, and his headache made him sick. He drove into town without crashing the car.He tried to drive the car downtown, and when he got outside the Frankfurt Hotel, he didn't have time to park the car and left it there.He staggered inside, stumbling toward the suite. Stephanie knew what was going on as soon as she saw him.While he was stripping off his uniform and shirt, she had taken the wilderness kit out of his suitcase and filled the syringe with a mixture of morphine.Dieter collapsed on the bed, and she stuck the needle into his arm.The pain disappeared instantly.Stephanie lay down next to him, stroking his face lightly with her fingertips. Dieter lost consciousness a few minutes later.