Berlin blood

August left the office without feeling the floor under his feet. He saw and heard nothing, stunned by the order he would have to carry out. Charlotte, noticing that the man was behaving somehow strangely, covered the distance to August in two steps and took him out of the reception room, away from prying eyes. In the corridor, she led the unresisting Scholz to the window, took off his cap, and lightly shook his shoulder, looking into his eyes. “August, what happened, there’s no face on you,” she had never seen August in such a state and involuntarily became more and more worried. “Himmler…” August began to speak little by little, and Charlotte’s words reached him. — The Reichsführer said that an operation was being prepared to kill members of the SA completely. — And? “Charlotte wasn’t surprised. She had heard out of the blue about the planned purges when she was still working in the Gestapo, but she never thought that this would affect her, even indirectly. “You know that most of the workers are from this party,” he sighed heavily, lowering his head. “I was ordered to kill them,” he exhaled and looked at the ceiling. Oh, how difficult it was for him to say a few simple words. — So that’s the thing. “Charlotte tried to express sympathy with her eyes. Now she understood why Augustus left the office like that. “August, you won’t kill them with your own hands,” the girl lowered her voice. — You are giving an order. It’s not even your will… — Yes? — Lightning flashed in his eyes. He suddenly exploded. — These deaths should not happen! I didn’t even kill birds, do you understand, Charlotte?! — he spoke angrily. Like a string that is about to break. — August, I understand. I’ll prepare the documents myself,” she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly. Charlotte wanted to share this responsibility with him. — Let’s go home. There’s no point in thinking about it now,” she painfully tried to catch his blurred gaze. — You’re right. I’m of no use today,” he rested his head on her shoulder and rubbed her slightly. This one too intimate gesture made it clear how broken Augustus was by the news. Charlotte thought that they might be seen and misunderstood, but did not stop the man, especially since he himself stood up a few seconds later. He put on his cap, straightened his uniform and offered Charlotte his hand. A light wind blew in the face as they went out, cooling Augustus’s face, which was burning with excitement. Charlotte’s hair was a little disheveled, a strand splashed around the girl’s clean forehead, and the sight of this loose strand made Scholz smile. There was a slight hesitation at the door of the official car: Charlotte, as usual, was waiting for August to gallantly open the door for her, but the man seemed to have frozen. “August,” she said quietly, bringing him to his senses and, opening the door on her own, sat down. He finally got his bearings and sat down in the front seat. They drove in silence for a while, each thinking about his own, Charlotte watched the smooth sidewalk flash by very close to the wheels. — You won’t leave me today? Charlotte didn’t immediately understand the words, and frowned thoughtfully for a minute. Then, as if waking up, she answered: — Oh, yes, I think I’ll come to you around nine, half past ten. “I’ll wait,” he took her hand, from which she had taken off the glove, into his palm and lightly touched it with his lips, the girl became embarrassed. August, even in this state, could not leave her without attention and this was captivating. When they arrived at her house, August regretted that they would have to part, even if only for a few hours. However, he understood that the girl needed to finish her work: it was barely past noon. He knew that Charlotte did most of her work at night and at home while everyone was sleeping. One day he asked her why she did this, to which the girl, without much deceit, replied — it’s more convenient. And yet this was not the real reason. At night, even duties become choices. At night you belong to no one, do as you please! Charlotte did not want to explain this feeling of freedom, so she simply dedicated it one day to her hobby: wandering the streets of Berlin in the dead of night, trying, of course, to choose the most illuminated ones, but fully enjoying the solitude and silence. Augustus seemed to understand. Charlotte got out of the car, opened the entrance door and quickly walked up the stairs. Neither brother nor sister should be at home, since Agnet is working in the studio at this time, and Franz has been promoted to Unterscharführer in the very department where she and August worked at first. She went to her room, where small sunbeams played on the walls. It was much more pleasant to work in the silence of an empty house, so some of the papers were transferred to Charlotte’s personal disposal at her home. Paperwork often took up all of her time, and she could always refer to it when it came time to help with cleaning around the house. Charlotte, despite being a workaholic, was a lazy person when it came to housekeeping. Agnet was most often responsible for keeping their apartment clean. Charlotte also categorically did not like ironing, and we can generally remain silent about cooking. Occasionally, she still wiped the dust in her room under Agnet’s withering gaze. The girl’s fingers flickered over the typewriter to the sound of passing cars. The work was almost mechanical, and Charlotte returned in fits and starts to thinking about the nature of her relationship with August. After the incident when August gave her a ride home late at night, her brother and sister kept up with her for another half hour with questions like: “Who is he to give you a lift? And what kind of relationship are you in then?” Charlotte barely hid her angry bewilderment. It seemed to her that this kind of thing would not be important for Agnet and Franz, but the topic had been raised more than once at dinner, if they managed to have dinner together. The first thing August did when he arrived home was to take a shower, he needed to freshen up. He hoped that the water would calm him down and help calm himself and his nerves. Of course, one could cling to the excuse offered by Charlotte: he was only transmitting an order, the murderer of people was somewhere among the highest ranks of the SS. However, it will be Augustus who will have to watch the execution of innocent people, it will be he who will give the go-ahead to pull the trigger. The man had not done anything yet, but he already felt up to his elbows in the blood of those who only defended their rights. It was necessary to distract himself until ten in the evening, and as soon as August came out of the shower, his phone caught his eye. It was worth calling Jens to distract him with conversations in some pub. There was no answer on the other end of the line for a long time, but as soon as August decided to hang up, they answered him. — Yes, who is it? — You could hear from his voice that Jens was upset about something, he answered quickly and clearly not in the tone that August would like to hear addressed to him now. — Jens, this is August, didn’t you recognize me? — August sat on the edge of the table, with a towel wrapped around his hips. — August? Wow, no… I found out, you just haven’t called for so long, I thought that… — he paused, clearly thinking of what to say. — I thought that since we haven’t seen each other for so long, let’s sit today from six to ten? In some pub. Three: Me, you and Rudolf. — Today… okay come on. A new one just opened near your work! — the wary notes from Jens’ voice disappeared, and now he was clearly smiling. — Okay, I’ll call Rudolf. — No, no need, I’ll call him myself, we communicate very well. — Is it true? Did not know. Okay, I’ll wait for you there. After hanging up the phone, August went on to get himself in order. Why do Jens and Rudolf communicate, did they really become closer after his departure? Interesting information. He looked out the window: the sun barely illuminated the city, it was slowly rolling towards sunset, but the streets were still warm. A half-smoked cigarette was smoldering in the ashtray. August, almost ready to go out, stood in front of the mirror. He looked great. When he went down to the street, he was glad that he had taken his cloak. Despite the amber sun spreading through the streets and the clear sky, there was a chill in the air that foreshadowed rain. Entering the cafe, August immediately found friends: they were already sitting with mugs of beer in their hands and noisily discussing something. He was the first to say hello; after all, he was the initiator of the meeting. — Good evening, gentlemen! — August sat down and shook hands with everyone. — Hello, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen you. “You look great,” Rudolph hugged him in a friendly way. — The new position is obligatory. — New? Jens, I think we missed too much. “You’re exaggerating, only half of your life has passed without us.” — Ha ha, how funny, at least I managed to do a lot in my life. — Oh, I began to forget your sharp tongue, and since you entered the service, you have become just fire. — Okay, I wanted to meet you and ask how you are. Since I moved, we have hardly seen each other. — Well, I’m fine, today we received new orders regarding the destruction of the SA “So you too…” August sighed. — What happened, it was as if you saw a corpse. “To be honest, that’s exactly why I called.” — About what? — Jens and Rudolf looked at each other in surprise. — Well, about the operation that is about to take place “Ah, that’s what you’re talking about,” Jens took a sip from the mug, taking off his cap. “Part of the operation lies with me and my subordinates, since most of the SA members ended up working on the construction of the camps. “You knew what you were getting into when you joined the SS,” Jens chuckled gloomily. “I would call you a hypocrite, but you are my friend and I understand how difficult it is for you to even simply give an order to shoot people.” August pursed his lips. Jens is right, he joined the SS trying to save his own skin, he served this regime for several years, he oversaw the construction of concentration camps and saw the injustice of what he was doing. He has done nothing for them anymore. Shooting the rioters is not the first deal with his conscience that he will make. “August, listen,” Rudolf continued Jens’s thought. “It won’t get any easier, maybe someday you’ll have to kill yourself.” You were not ready for this, but if you are not a coward, then pull yourself together. If you don’t do it, others will, your position is precarious, you can’t go against the authorities if you don’t want to lose your life. So pull yourself together and carry out the order! — Rudolph hit the table with his fist, not out of anger, but rather in order to bring him to his senses. Rudolph grew up practically on the street, moving from one orphanage to another, so he knew firsthand how cruel fate was. August sighed heavily. Their understanding of what is right has always differed. — Yes, he’s right, August. You were lucky enough to grow up in prosperity, you did not see real life, you never fought for a place in the sun. Now it’s time to stand up for yourself. “Perhaps you’re right,” Augustus threw his head back. “I have to be stronger and accept this responsibility.” Okay, then let’s no longer talk about work today, how many prostitutes have you managed to pick up? Everyone laughed in unison, although August did not very skillfully change the subject. The evening passed in warm colors, and when it became completely dark outside, everyone went away, promising each other that they would not disappear for so long. August walked onto the pavement and once again replayed Rudolf’s words. He’s probably right, his rivalry with his sister is nothing compared to what really happens in this life sometimes. It’s time for him to grow up and understand that if you have achieved something, then you must preserve it, getting dirty in the blood of your enemies up to your elbows. This is the law. He walked and the lanterns that illuminated his path sometimes blinked, which made him feel creepy. Having reached Charlotte’s house, he realized that she had not yet left and, sitting opposite the window, began to look at the familiar silhouette. Charlotte rushed out of the entrance to the sound of her heels and, noticing August, adjusted her small hat. And she headed towards him. “Good evening,” she came up from behind, and August shuddered, however, giving his face an imperturbable look, he said: — Good evening, my lady. Shall we walk to my house “Of course, my lord,” Charlotte grinned. — Judging by your clothes, you have been somewhere? — Yes, I went to a bar with friends, I needed to ask someone for advice. — Has it become easier? — She took him by the elbow. — You know, yes, but I think that you will help me more. They walked slowly, and looking somewhere into the distance, each thought about his own. The silence at first was interrupted only by short phrases that invariably accompany walking couples on the street. Only towards the end of the walk they started talking a little, August remembered a couple of funny stories from his childhood. They entered the house to the laughter of Charlotte and the smile of August; lately he began to smile sincerely less and less often and appreciated every joyful moment. “You know, August, I would never have thought that you aristocrats sometimes want to stroll along the ordinary streets of the city. — Oh yes, Charlotte, you know, when I stopped being an aristocrat, I received what they all were deprived of — freedom. Okay, please go to the living room, I’ll bring you something to drink. — Tomorrow is a working day? — Don’t worry, I’m not going to get you drunk. — Well, if so. — She went into the living room and, sitting down on the sofa, began to wait for him. He entered and, putting down the whiskey and two glasses, began to open the bottle he had already started. He poured a little into each and handed the glass to Charlotte. He sat down next to her, put his arm around her waist and, raising his glass, said: — For courage. — Yes, so that everything works out for you, August Scholz! — the glasses met with a clink. After drinking, they began to talk about everything in the world. Augustus spoke more, usually such evenings ended with his long monologues, while Charlotte listened to him with great attention. Charlotte knew that he needed to speak out, he needed someone to listen to him, he needed to empty his soul so that it would be filled with new emotions, and that was normal. The girl quietly fell asleep on his shoulder, and August froze in an uncomfortable position, afraid to wake her. His soul was free from worries and no matter what bloody order he had to give, he was ready for anything. Soon he fell asleep himself and slept peacefully until the morning. *** In the morning, when Charlotte returned home to get ready for work, she did not meet anyone, neither brother nor sister. Apparently, they had some kind of night life outside their shared apartment. Standing in the shower, Charlotte thought about August. She felt duality in him: he needed to make a decision that contradicted all his principles, to take someone’s life so that his own would remain unchanged. Charlotte decided to turn to the cards. Charlotte was interested in cards and esotericism when she was a teenager, and if she needed to know something, she asked them, she trusted cards more than people. She took them out of the box and asked a fairly simple question: “Will August Scholz change?” She pulled out a few cards from the deck and smiled. The answer was rather positive. This means he will become stronger, this made Charlotte happy. *** August sat in his office and sorted out papers, having just returned from yet another construction site. Lord, what was going on there, the workers rebelled even more. He was upset: the workers almost broke the fence enclosing the administration and their territory, Augustus had to shoot in the air to bring people to their senses. Now August was drinking coffee, looking out the window and then at the door. He waited for Charlotte to finish with the paperwork. There was a knock on the door. — Yes, come in. “August,” Charlotte went into the office, and, closing the doors, handed out a folder with documents, “this is a list and reports,” she handed him an envelope. — Thank you. Don’t go, I’ll give you the reports now, and you’ll take them to Himmler’s adjutant. “He tore the envelope and, opening the letter, quickly went through the list. His gaze fell on a name he never expected to see, “Mia Scholz.” He was stunned, his heart skipped a beat. Is she in SA? Isn’t she in jail? A thousand questions swirled in his head. He was in such shock that Charlotte walked around him and carefully took the letter from his hands, not daring to ask what had happened. And when she saw his sister’s name, all she could say was, “Oh my God.”