The Russians had, by the end of January, pushed the Germans back to the west side of the Oder and stood on the doorstep of the Reich itself. The next step would be the invasion of Germany, once supply lines and logistical support had caught up with the advance. Right now there would be another pause until the Russians could resupply and prepare for the final act.
Zeitsler was always courteous and well mannered if a little cynical Langer wondered at a man of his intelligence being part of the mad order of the Brotherhood.
The general merely smiled and answered with a trace of humor. 'Haven't you ever heard, Langer, if I may still use your German name—it's easier for me than Longinus—haven't you heard that there is no way to reason with religion or politics? It is enough that I believe in the mission of the Brotherhood as did my family for over three hundred years. Not quite as long as you have been around, to be sure, but still a long history of devotion and service that I quite agree with. A man, after all, has to live or die for something, doesn't he?'
He caught himself and laughed again.
He saw Himmler again the following day in the same office. The steady thumping crunch of artillery rounds landing was a constant reminder that war had come to Berlin. Dust fell from the ceilings in a steady thin mist covering everything with a powdery film. Only thirty thousand garrison troops were available for the defense of the capital, but the Russians knew the street fighting would be fierce, so they stood back and pounded.
The city was a gutted shell of its former glory, but all this meant little to the gentle-mannered man behind the desk. He had more important things on his mind.
Smiling, he looked up from some papers. 'Well, now it's time to have a little chat. The reason I have brought you here is you are to be my birthday present to the Fuhrer tomorrow. I know that you would not wish to miss such an important occasion, and he has requested that you be present. You understand, one man of destiny to another, that sort of thing. And it is still to my benefit to oblige him in these small matters.
'From your files, I see that you have given the Russians almost as much trouble as you did our people. Why?'
Langer explained his reasons the same as he had told Deborah in the hut.
Himmler bobbed his head in agreement. 'I thought it would be something like that. Your character is somewhat predictable, you know. Where in all these centuries did you develop a sense of morality?'
Langer thought over the question for a few moments. 'I don't really know. I do know that nothing I will ever do makes any real difference. But still if I must go on at least I can have the satisfaction of not degenerating into a child-killing animal like you.'
Himmler wiped his glasses. 'Insults will serve no purpose, since I really have no concern about your attitudes toward us. But understanding you as I do, I have given orders that you are to be released from your house arrest and issued weapons.' Langer sat stunned.
'Why?'
Himmler smiled a secret smirk. 'It's simple. Give me your word th&t you will not use the weapons against me personally and I will set you free to do what you have always done best, fight.
'Surely now, at this place and time the best thing you could do would be to kill Russians. Everyone you eliminate saves a helpless person some misery. There are no Jews in Berlin for you to rescue. Hitler will die by his own hand shortly, and I will be done before you're permitted to have any weapons. So it amuses me to give you your freedom. But don't worry, we will be watching and will most certainly keep track of your movements in the future. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some matters to take care of.'
The following morning, Casca was issued a new uniform, complete with his rank badges and decorations for service to the Reich. Casca attended the party in the company of SS
He received a number of strange looks from the assorted guests, but Himmler made no introductions and did not allow him to converse with anyone. Inside for the first time were the orchestrators of the war and their own disaster. The ministers who gave Hitler legal authority over the fate of millions.
Hermann Goring sailed through the guests, an overweight ship bemedaled and dressed in one of his elaborate parade uniforms, smiling and wishing everyone well on this auspicious occasion. The official affair lasted about an hour and there was no liquor served. The Fuhrer was a teetotaler and a nonsmoker.
Langer watched the master of Germany move around greeting first one then another of his ministers, his face, drawn and haggard, looking more like that of a tired old man who should have been in a rest home rather than the leader of the victorious German legions.
Himmler checked his watch. 'Time for me to go.' Casca looked at him questioningly. 'One moment, please.' Himmler signaled to a Lieutenant of
Clicking his heels, the junior officer stood at rigid attention.
Himmler made the introductions.
'I will now go and present my felicitations to the Fuhrer and take my leave of his happy celebration. Herr Wolff knows only that he is to do as I have said. He knows nothing of you or of your history. Please do not try to enlighten him in any way, it would do no good. After you have met the Fuhrer you may be off and about your business as I will mine.' Himmler gave a short smile, clicked his heels in a half bow and left to join Hitler.
The SS lieutenant addressed himself to the sergeant. 'You will please stay close to me until after the presentation.' Langer grunted his assent. The whole feeling of this was weird, the atmosphere of forced cheer. Most of the ministers had already packed and would be on their way out of Berlin before nightfall. Politicians always covered themselves, and transport was standing in wait for them.
Their loyalty as such to their leader was that they would leave him to face the future alone. Several already had their escape routes out of Germany prepared along with documents giving them citizenship in different
