Chapter 56
Admiral Lütjens would be the first to say that he had never, in his wildest dreams, expected to be in this position. As an officer of the German Navy- any variation of it -being ashore in Britain would have been a rare enough occurrence. As an Admiral? One
at war with Britain? He'd never thought it would happen.
I most certainly never expected that I'd be in the same room as Churchill himself.
Yet, here he stood, across from the bulldog himself. Churchill was every bit as imposing in person as he was in the news reels. He wasn't the tallest man, nor the most physically built. If Lütjens had to describe him, he'd call Churchill stocky. However, the man radiated the kind of aura that only true leaders could. Hitler lacked the natural charisma that Churchill possessed, and the German could see it the moment he stepped into the room. There was a reason that this man had kept Britain in the war, through mostly his own iron-will. Hmm.
"Relax, Admiral. If I wanted to have you harmed, I would hardly have brought you into my office to do it!" Churchill's voice was, just as the man, every bit as booming in person as on the radio. The stocky politician placed his hands on the desk, his beady eyes staring into Lütjens' with a cunning intellect behind them. "Though, you remain a
fascinating one to watch. That your little maid over there could hide who she was, for so long, is equally impressive. I don't put much stock into you Germans and your little Navy, but I will admit, you know how to use what you have."
Beside the Admiral, Gneisenau bristled like a cat being threatened by a rival. "Our Navy is---"
"Peace, Sascha." Lütjens placed a calming hand on the woman's arm, calling her by the human name she had taken. He knew her better as Sascha, and more importantly, he felt it
humanized her. She wasn't a weapon, not anymore, and he refused to treat her as one. "Mr. Churchill, did you want to talk to us just to insult Germany, or is there a purpose to this?" Staring directly at the Prime Minister, Lütjens rose to his full height and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I will have you know, that I have no intention of betraying Germany. And if it comes down to it, I will gladly stare a firing squad down to keep Sascha safe."
Churchill smiled back, though it was a grim expression with no genuineness to it. "So I imagine. For all that I loathe your dictator, I have never doubted that Germans will fight to the last. Not after the last war. No, I called you here for a different reason, Admiral. Tell me...how much do you know about an Admiral Schreiber?"
There it was. The real question, and the one that Lütjens had half-expected. They clearly overheard the conversation and wanted to know what Schreiber was up to. A question that Lütjens dearly wished he knew the answer to, himself. He'd never have pegged the captain of
Blücher as a traitor or a subversive. Then, he never would have imagined that he'd be standing next to the spirit of his flagship either.
One wondered when the world went completely mad.
"I'm afraid I will disappoint you, then." All the German could do was smile slightly, and shake his head. "My knowledge of Admiral Schreiber is fairly limited. I know him as the captain of our newest cruiser, and not much more. His men trust him and he ran a good ship, but I can hardly say why he would have done what he has. He never gave me the impression of someone willing to stand against the Nazis."
"Pity that few of you Germans were willing to in the first place. Maybe we wouldn't be fighting the second war in as many decades if they had." Churchill sighed deeply, standing from his desk. He walked around to stand before Lütjens.
The German could sense the broad-shouldered woman behind Sascha tense slightly, when Churchill grew closer. Which only served to confirm
that theory. He had no idea who she was, though.
"I will be frank with you, Lütjens. I don't trust you, and my trust for Germans has been
sorely strained by events after your little
Führer decided to stab us in the back over and over again." Churchill seemed to enjoy the little twitch that Lütjens gave at that specific terminology. The man was a politician, who had never been friends with Germany. He knew, as well as anyone, about the
Dolchstoss. "Oh, don't think I don't know about
that piece of rubbish. You bloody Germans couldn't take the loss, and here we are again. That's why I don't know if I should trust anything you, or this Schreiber, say. Chamberlain trusted Hitler, and look where we are. Give me a reason to trust
anything a German says, right now. Especially if it involves saving your own skins from the mess you started."
"You're just as responsible for this!" Sascha, while still normally fairly meek in private, was a firestorm when riled enough. Little point in denying what she
had been, anymore. "You and the French punished us for a war we didn't start! Holstein told me everything about the Kaiser and about the Austrians. If you had just---"
"Done what? Let Germany walk without any punishment after raping Belgium and ruining France? Do you know how many of our boys died in the trenches? We could hardly let Germany off with a slap on the
bloody wrist after what had happened. I hardly regret our choices at Versailles. If anything, we were too lenient."
Sascha prickled even further, to the point that it was possible to see- just barely -the outline of a warship around her. "
How dare you..."
Coughing softly, Lütjens cut off the argument. He looked past Sascha, towards the woman behind her. The twist of his head didn't go unnoticed. The burly woman, looking more like a prize fighter than the lithe elegance of his flagship, stared back. Her arms were crossed over an imposing chest, as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Keep her on a tight leash, Admiral. I'd hate to have to dirty the Prime Minister's office."
"Quite." Lütjens sighed softly, and turned his eyes on Sascha, who had deflated slightly and sent him a guilty expression. "Don't worry, my dear. The Prime Minister is blunt, but he isn't
incorrect. We, Germany as a whole, caused this war. Maybe not the last one, but certainly this one. Let's try to avoid escalating it."
Looking back at Churchill, the Admiral continued with a much harder tone. "I would appreciate if you kept your feelings to yourself, Mr. Churchill. I wish to
help you, damn my soul, if it will keep Germany from suffering any more than she already has. I get the feeling you feel the same way, or you wouldn't have called this meeting."
"I find much more interest in maintaining Germany as a bulwark against Stalin," Churchill was quite blunt, Lütjens was right about that. "However, if I could end this war before it costs as many lives as the Great War, that would be ideal. Oak, show him the message."
Oak?
The woman behind Sascha sighed and stepped forward. She uncrossed her arms, and pulled a slip of paper from a pocket on her skirt. She handed it over to Lütjens, the German recognizing it as a printout from a wireless set. Eyebrow climbing up his face, he read the message. Each line drove deeper into his heart. His eyes widened further and further, until he was looking between Sascha, Churchill, and the message. This was...this was...
Schreiber, you madman. Are you seriously considering this? Working against the Nazis to the point of...giving away secrets to the British? Are you that desperate to keep the Soviets out?
Letting the message fall from shaking hands, the Admiral turned to the Prime Minister. "When Sascha told me that Schreiber was working against the Nazis, I didn't expect it to go this far. I thought he was just trying to secure Germany. That he didn't trust Hitler or the others. I had no idea...how long have you known about this? How long have you been working with him?"
"Working with him? Hardly." Churchill bit out a laugh, fishing around in his pocket for a cigar. Coming up with one, the older man stuck it in his mouth and gestured at the open window of the office. "Does it
look like we're working with a German? We're still fighting the same war. I called you here, because I was hoping you would have some insight into the man who sent this. Do you know how we got this message?"
Lütjens followed the gesture, wondering what the Prime Minister was getting at. "No, I do not. I wasn't even aware that Sascha was who she was until today, certainly I had no idea a man I knew as an old Captain was a traitor."
He didn't use the word lightly. It was, technically, what he
and Schreiber were. Traitors to the legitimate government, however one may feel about that government. After all, he was in the office of the leader of an enemy nation. Making small talk with him and talking about how to work against the German government. There wasn't any other word that really
fit, was there?
"I see. I'll grant that man this, he is no fool." Idly chewing on the cigar, the stocky man shrugged his shoulders. "That message was sent directly from
Bismarck to
Revenge after your Admiral crippled her. That was after you were captured, of course. He seems to want to set up a working relationship with my government. A secret agreement that we won't force Germany to submit to occupation by our
allies to the East. He seemed rather insistent on not wanting 'unconditional surrender'. I don't even bloody well know where he got that idea."
Lütjens didn't feel the need to tell Churchill that his own reactions indicated he was looking in that direction. The Prime Minister had been pretty clear over the course of this little meeting that he had little real intention of treating Germany leniently. If he considered Versailles as not going far enough to keep the German people down. The damndest thing, was that Lütjens knew he was right. At least in regards to the Nazis. Would punishing Germany further have stopped the war?
The nationalistic side of him railed against that idea. Germany had been punished beyond what was reasonable.
"Regardless, here we are." Lütjens shook his head, and looked down at his hands. He wished, not for the first time, that he had his old academy dirk. It was comforting to hold it. "I am...uncomfortable with the idea of working against a government that is legitimate, no matter my own feelings about them. However, if Admiral Schreiber is even remotely correct about the Soviets and what they'd do to our people..."
Churchill bit out a bitter chuckle. "This is probably the one thing we're in agreement on. I've never trusted Stalin. I'm only working with the man because Hitler is a greater threat to the world, and I'd send tanks and food to Satan himself if it meant killing that madman." The Prime Minister walked forward, and held his hand out. Lütjens looked down, and hesitantly, took it. Churchill grimly smiled. "I make no promises, you understand. I want to know more about you and the man you're representing. That is why you're here, and why I'm willing to do this meeting. If I can keep Stalin in Russia and send Hitler to Hell, it may be worth trying."
Letting go of Lütjens' hand, Churchill turned to Sascha. He stuck his hand out to the battleship, who looked at it with narrowed blue eyes. "It may turn out that we can't work together and that Germany will need to surrender, without any conditions. I have learned not to trust Germans. I won't let that leave my mind. However, I hope that
you can teach us more about the ships."
"I don't know how I ended up like this." Sascha bit out, refusing to take the hand. She just crossed her arms instead. "Why don't you ask your lapdog?"
"I do so love a woman with fire in her." The Prime Minister laughed, warmly this time, and shook his head. He looked past Sascha and towards 'Oak', shrugging magnanimously. "We don't know how she's here either. There is someone who
might, though."
Walking right past everyone else, Churchill flung his door open and looked out into the hallway. Past him, Lütjens could see the form of a shockingly young man for the Admiral uniform he wore. A uniform that was not British, nor German. Standing beside the man who couldn't be older than his mid-thirties, was a woman who looked only slightly older. A woman with unnatural gray hair, in a feminine version of a naval uniform cut in the same pattern.
"Admiral Thompson, Utah, we have
much to talk about."
Not as long as I would like, nor is it getting back to Thompson (yet) but it seemed a good point to stop. Not least because Star Wars is coming out next week and I work at a theater...so I wanted to get something up first.
Now, this was difficult for much the same reason as the Roosevelt and Hitler chapters were. Writing major historical figures is
hard. Rewarding, mind, but very very hard. Hopefully this worked well enough. Churchill is a man who is blunt, hides nothing, and
doesn't like Germans. He didn't before WW1, he didn't after, and he sure as hell doesn't
now. But he's also the man who was perfectly willing to rearm Germans and send them against the Russians after the surrender (see: Unthinkable) soooo....yeah.
This subplot will be FUN.
(also, continuing the trend from this and
Holding the Line of there being a specific reason why certain girls are coming back. Sascha/Gneisenau is the
outlier.)
