Panzerfaust

Chapter 14 - Deep Breath

October 14th, 1944, Budapest, Kingdom of Hungary

The middle of October came to Budapest with the smell of frost, woodfire and gunpowder, ready to blow over the fall blooms in a triumphant hurrah of colours. Time seemed to slow down, as if the entire capital held their breath before a jump that decides the fate of millions, germans and hungarians alike. Cogs were wheeling and the ants did their respectable works, as they were supposed to do, under the concealing rug of a thousand fallen autumn leaves.

Otto monitored Sophie's appetite as best as he can; they spent at least one meal together a day since the Doctor's death, both her mood and hunger were volatile at best; one day she was sulking all day in her pajamas, the next it was impossible to lure her away from the front of the easel. Today it was thankfully painting, not starring at the bedroom ceiling with beady eyes. 

'This is for you, Schatzie.' Otto hands her a package he spent putting together for days, with some help from Berlin and his team. 

She twirls around from the painting putting down the brush, long hair fanning out unrestrained around her shoulders, wiping her hands in a towel. The Winter Garden is less lively without the giggles of the little niece, but Sophie made it up with sweet smelling candles and a purring Macskacicó on the couch.

'What's this?' Peaking into the box, she looks up in suprise. 'Books?' 

The cover of the Mein Kampf shines through the wrap as her widened green eyes meet his dark blue ones. 'You got me propaganda?'

'I won't ask you to believe it, but I need you to know it. The rest too. Adrian even made you a chart of the Reichskanzlei. You will need to know how it works as Frau Skorzeny.'

'Alright.' She reluctantly takes the box, pouting with her lovely pink mouth. 'I thought you got me real books. I am curious what books you find interesting.'

'I rarely read for enjoyment these days. But I will take you out later to get you a proper gift, gut? I must go now.'

Kissing her forehead, Otto inhales her scent deeply; he missed their intimacy with a burning sensation, but he knows he has to be patient. The dinner they had may sated his hunger for food, but not his hunger for her. Dark eyes full of lust scan her every movement as she flips through the bundle absentmindedly; tiny tip of tongue stuck out between pearly white teeth, deep in thought. If Hades could wait for his Persephone months each year, so can he.The next time I'm going to have her will be hopefully on german soil.

When Müller drives him back to the Adria, Fölkersam is waiting for him by the grey steps of the imposing building. It's a cold afternoon, by any luck the fog that lingers between the street of Budapest will last till tomorrow, when the Friedenthall Batallion strikes once again.

'Burghardt is entertaining them. He is not alone.' The Baron warns him, giving a knowing look of who he is talking about. 'He brought Sztójay.'

'Whatever for?' The Sturmbannführer hoped that the Reichsprotektor of Hungary didn't come up with cancellation for their plan. Or bad news from Berlin.

'I have no idea. Be careful.' Adrian falls into step behind him as he enters his own office, loud with the laughter of officers drinking on the leather couches. Burghardt saluts his Alderman diligently, as Otto turns to his guest. 

'Forgive me, gentlemen, I had dinner plans with my intended I couldn't cancel.'

'Of course.' Döme Sztójay smiles smoothly; they knew each other from Berlin, when the Serbian man was serving as attaché for the Kingdom of Hungary, then interim prime minister of the Reich controlled Hungary until ousted by the Regent. He had no reason to love the Horthys, that's for sure but Otto couldn't see why they should include an outsider in their carefully crafted plan at the last minute.

'How is your lovely Braut doing, Sturmbannführer? She seems to disappear among those shady Ofen hills. I hope she is in good health.' Veesenmayer asks from behind his glass full of whiskey, nodding to Otto's salut.

'Thank you for the inquiry; she's been feeling a bit under the weather.'

'And as a dutiful german man, you visit her every day. Quite remarkable. I admire your strong relationship. I hope that rumours will not undermine it.'

'Most likely not; as none of us listens to filth.' The Sturmbannführer motions his second lieutant to refill the guests' glassses, as he takes his place behind the desk.

'Of course. Still, I was taken aback when I heard that Fraulein Edelsheim might be bedbound with a miscarriage... or maybe a result of a procedure to keep her stomach flat until she walks down the aisle. I was even more scandalized when I learned these words came from the mouth of the first Lady of this country...'

Otto feels his pulse quicken. He is provoking me. A noble hungarian woman like Magdolna Purgly would not speak ill of a family member, even if the relationship went sour. He is only provoking me.

Skorzeny did not knew what the Reichsprotektor got from Berlin for their first failed mission; but it was surely not a congratulations card. Ernst reassured Otto of his confidence regarding the next opportunity, but maybe Edmund Veesenmayer wasn't that lucky. 

'I doubt that.' Sztójay quips. 'Grafin Edelsheim owns the respect and admiration of the Hungarian court; if someone is gossiping that, the source of such talk is certainly not a Hungarian.'

Light flickers in Veesenmayer eyes and Otto knows the attaché said the wrong thing he was expected to say. Brought a man over who will kick you in your own butt, Edmund?

'No one can disappoint us like family.' The Standartenführer says at last, downing the rest of his drink. 'Ready for tomorrow, Skorzeny?'

'Of course.'

'Then I must bid you all a good night and forfeit all the whiskey I can find in your battalion.' The men politely laugh at the Reichsprotektor's joke as he stands to leave. 

Sztójay stays behind as Adrian chats with Veesenmayer, shrugging on his coat.

'I meant what I say, Herr Skorzeny. I have no reason to defend Madame Horthy - but she speaks no ill of her brood. Hungarian women are one of a kind - they have this strong, sometimes unreasonable fidelity towards their kin. Even if they don't to society calls together anymore, do not let it fool you.'

'Thank you for your words. But our Standartenführer won't be as grateful as I am, I hope you know that. You pissed in his Krügel, be aware.'

Sztójay shrugs his shoulders without a care in this world.

'I am leaving Hungary this evening for Vienna; pleasing Edmund Veesenmayer is no longer on my agenda.' The attaché smiles, offering his smooth palm in a handshake. 'I wish you find your bliss by Sophia Edelsheim. I know her to be an exceptional young woman, she'll shine by the side of one lucky man. Let's hope that man is you, Otto.'

Thick fog descends on the empty streets of the hungarian Capital as if an absent minded maid knocked over a milk canister, blessing the Friedenthall Battalion with its cover. 

Otto watches behind a panzer as Horthy Miklós Jr. enters the Yugoslav Embassy with his driver. He waits five minutes, then another five, dark irises fixated on his watch. He thinks of the man's snob smile as he held Otto's fiancé's hand in his, he tries to hate him enough to hurt him, but only feels something akin to pity. 

Then he signals his order.