Winfred

71

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathleen Winfred

The next morning, I awakened to the sound of people around the basement beginning to stir. My head was still on Von Steubon’s shoulder, and he was still leaning against me, fast asleep.

Everyone had decided to spend the night in the basement, the air raid having lasted longer than normal. The lights in the basement were all out by now, and I heard some soldiers in a corner speculating that power had been knocked out somewhere nearby.

It was dark in the basement, even though it was morning, which I could tell from peering at Von Steubon’s watch.

The last thing I wanted to do was wake Von Steubon up, but, as he was commander of the prison, he needed to give direction to the people, soldiers and prisoners, who were beginning to stir and awaken, becoming somewhat restless.

I gently shook his shoulder.

“Freidrich,” I hissed, giving him another small shake.

“What…” He muttered, frowning even in his mostly-asleep state.

“It’s morning.”

He seemed to wake up a bit more, sitting up and opening his eyes, squinting into the darkness. He glanced at the ceiling. “What happened to the lights?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I heard someone say that one of the explosions must have taken out the power.”

His frown deepened, but he eventually stood, smoothing his wrinkled uniform, and made his way across the room to talk to the soldiers in the other corner.

Finally, we were all up and moved out of the basement, back upstairs as usual.

Upstairs was no better, power wise, but we were able to open the windows and provide enough light to see by. In rooms with no windows, there were candles. Soldiers on guard duty in the prison wings were given torches.

Von Steubon went out to inspect the compound and the grounds surrounding it. I accompanied him, along with Pirot, and several other guards.

The bombs had, indeed, been close. There was damage to the western wall around the prison and, looking out across the field leading down to the forests behind the old hotel, we could see several craters and impressions in the earth.

True to the suspicions of the guards, power lines had been knocked over and there was no power coming to the prison, leaving us without electricity. At least it was almost summer and not cold, so we wouldn’t need the power for heat.

As soon as we returned to the prison, duties were divided up among work details and everyone set about repairing the wall, and the destroyed fencing. Even the guards were set to work with more duties than usual, making sure that the cook had wood for cook fires, torches were distributed, and prisoners were all accounted for.

Additionally, we received word that the nearby town, the very same one that I had just recently been trusted enough to go to, had been hit.

Von Steubon organized a group of guards and male prisoners and sent them to assist the town.

I asked if I could go, and assist with basic medical care, and comforting people after the shock, trying to make myself generally useful.

Freidrich gave me his permission, and I put on my uniform jacket and marched with the men towards the town.

I walked beside Matthew on the way there.

“By the way…” he asked, nonchalantly. “Have you figured out who the guy is yet?”

I gave him a playful punch to the shoulder, answer enough for him.