Official Report
British Intelligence
Code: 3986
Kathleen Winfred
I stood before my dresser, the small box in which I had placed Virginia’s belongings open before me and her letter in both hands.
And my name, or at least the name Virginia had to call me by, on the front: Ilsa Schulz.
And Freidrich’s words, ringing in my head. Why don’t you start there?
I set the letter down once more, but didn’t quite close the box, and made my way to the window, where I pulled back the blackout shade. My room faced the courtyard and I could see the prisoners lined up, waiting to hear if they were to be transferred or not. Freidrich stood before all of them. I watched him for a bit, before sighing and letting the shade fall back into place.
I glanced at Schubert who, as Freidrich was busy, had followed me upstairs to my room.
“Well, Schubert,” I said, absentmindedly. “I guess I have to open it sooner or later…”
I sighed and returned to the dresser, pulling out the letter and closing the box before I had a chance to return it.
I picked Schubert up and set him on my bunk, before I climbed up to join him.
Taking a deep breath, I slit the envelope, pulling out the paper inside and beginning to read.
YOU ARE READING
Winfred
Historical FictionThe Women's Guard, The Soldier, The Nazi, The Spy. The Spy turned Prisoner. As they say, dead men (or women, as the case may be) tell no tales. But Kathleen Winfred isn't dead; she managed to escape. Now, the story of her capture by Nazis in occup...
