It is January 17th, 1943, early morning.

You're in your little kitchen, cooking ersatz coffee. The man you spent the last night with, the recently promoted SS-Obersturmführer Arthur Hoehnar, is still sleeping in your bed.

Looking out your window, you can see the fires still burning. For the first time in over a year, the Allies bombed Berlin. Not counting the smaller raids now then, of course.
You had spent the day at the hospital, not knowing if you would find your home in ruins. When you saw it still standing, you wanted to cry with relief, but that wouldn't do.
Arthur liked his women cool and detached, like Marlene Dietrich and Zarah Leander.

The Völkische Beobachter on your kitchen table has another glowing article for the Führer and his ecree on the full employment of men and women in the defence of the Reich. It's good you're already working as a nurse, otherwise you would be ordered to the factories to make bombs and ammunitions, too.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:10, Sun 21 June 2020.

Lena choked down the terrible coffee to choke down the terrible feelings she got, but could never show, when she had to spend such time with these men she despised so much.  When she was alone, she sometimes had neurotic thoughts that no one kind and decent would ever want to touch her ever again because they would subconsciously smell the taint on her.  She knew it was ridiculous, but it still occurred.

There was nothing to eat in the apartment, but that was just as well, she couldn't have brought herself to eat right now anyway.

That was a significant bombing raid.  Lena was a spy and not a general so she was not qualified to say what it meant exactly, but she had to wonder.  A hollow, stinging sensation in the pit of her stomach came when she wondered if her own forces were going to bomb the hospital and wind up killing her.  They certainly hadn't warned her about the raid.  Of course that was expected, communication wasn't exactly casual or regular, and it had been made clear to her all those years ago that being a spy was mostly sending (encoded) messages in a bottle and just knowing that you had stuck to your fieldcraft protocols.  For all Lena knew, the Nazis had been on to her since day one and had intercepted every communique she'd sent out, but then again maybe they had not, in which case the whole point of her being there was to endure the attacks.

She had feared mostly for the shortwave transceiver being a victim of the bombing.  That was irreplaceable at this point.  For the first few months she'd simply kept it in her suitcase, but she'd figured out, with some hilarious improvised tools like butter knives, she could slide the back panel off the kitchen cabinet, and behind that was a small panel in the wall she'd managed to cut out to hold the radio.  She often wondered what the point of that was, since if anyone looked it would be fairly obvious it had been cut, but it did look better if you happened to look behind the cabinet from the side.  It was little details like that which mattered sometimes.

Though it was a breach of field protocol, Lena had taken to keeping the lockpicks on her as those too were irreplaceable, but not nearly so important.  In her legend, Karl Vogt had been a locksmith, so sentimentality was her excuse if she ever did get caught with them.  Fortunately in the panoply of tools and gear a nurse was expected to cart about, there were many, many distractions about her person.

Arthyr Hoehnar was supposed to be invited to some Party function this week.  They were ghastly affairs, done to make the party and the SS in particular seem glamorous.  As much as she was disgusted by the men who wore the SS uniforms at this point, she could swallow that bitter pill just fine.  It was actually the other women present who really turned her stomach.  Lena was a spy and didn't actually like any of these men, that was her excuse.  As vile as they were, they provided some excellent intelligence because the guest list of who was at these things told a lot.  She wasn't sure now whether it would still be held, but that couldn't be helped.

Lena could not help but wonder if OSI would attempt to remove its assets if there were going to be a definitive assault on Berlin.  But until she knew anything she had to keep up her legend.  The longer it went, the more resolute she became that she had to gather every scrap of information she could.   While some intel like the hospital roster might not be valuable now, years later when tribunals were trying to establish which officer had been present in which battle, information like that could be invaluable.  She grabbed the newspaper and a straight pin and prepared the report as best she could.  For daily reports that didn't have much substance to them, she often used a newspaper and the pin code.

She would have to cajole Arthur to take her out when he woke up, so she was steeling herself for that.  Then there'd be another day in the hospital.

Lena was all but done with her report, when she could hear Arthur stir in bed, waking up with a loud yawn. The springs in her bed squeaked as the Obersturmbannführer got out.

A minute later, Arthur came into the kitchen, naked, except with his jacket draped over his shoulders.
He hugged her tightly from behind.
"Good morning, mein Liebchen!" he said, as he pressed a wet kiss on her left cheek. Then he pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and flopped it down on the table in front of her, then the jacket down next to it.

"Here, could you get a needle and fix my badges and straps? Won't get a new coat before they make me Hauptsturmführer. Shouldn't be too long now, though... just a bit of luck and I might make it in the summer."

He sat down next to her. "And why did you get dressed already? I still got time for some more fun."

He took a sip of coffee and tried very hard not to make a face.

He was not the only one who repressed making a face, though Lena was far more successful.

She assumed her role, as he had to be badgered a bit.  The trick to the honey pot was to let out a bit of honey, then clamp the lid back on and make the mark work to get the lid off of it again.

She'd worked very hard on her German since arriving here.  It was already very good as she just had to imitate her parents, and she was getting loads of practice, but she couldn't let up.  Right now she'd need that mastery to sound convincing.

"You men are so helpless, you work so hard to get these precious badges, and then you cannot even put them on your coat."  She teased him relentlessly.  "You don't want a girl, you want a mother."

As she fussed she rose.  There was not much in this apartment to speak of, it was quite the compact space.  Even then it was better than many because at least it had separate rooms.  There was a small writing desk where she kept stationary and hid her Kampfmesser.  But its single drawer was full of various clutter she had no other place for, and that included what she had of needle and thread.

"It will have to be with white thread, I can find no other color lately.  But as you say, it is temporary.  It should not be very visible anyway."

She sat down to attend the chore.  It wouldn't be difficult, she had worked similar stitches alongside her mother many times.



Lena scowled at him.  "You awaken and ask me to be a seamstress when I have to be in the the hospital soon enough, and you complain?  Is this all you care about, what kind of girl do you think I am?  You didn't even take me anywhere worthwhile last night."

She was being a bit difficult and lightly insulting his status as she sewed, challenging his ego a bit, but not too much.  Lena had to get him to placate her with some gesture designed to impress the pretty nurse before he ultimately got bored with her and found another pretty nurse.  But for now she had his attention and had to goad him into doing something that would show how powerful and important he was.  Something that might give Lena access to something primo.

She would have today's patient logs to prepare, and would do her best to prepare a report on what the bombings had actually destroyed.  If she could gather enough information she might even supply a map.

"Everybody does what they do best for the Reich. Women tend the homes, while we go off and fight for the glory of the Fatherland."
He reached out and slapped her buttocks as she walked past him, barking out a laughter. "And who knows, one day you may be a mother of beautiful children! I can put one or seven into your belly, if you want. A nice Mother's Cross isn't too shabby, right?"


"Ach, mein Liebchen, don't be like that. Why don't you let me make it up to you? Some real breakfast on your way to the hospital, maybe? I could get you some real tea, if you'd like...?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:43, Mon 22 June 2020.

"Is this what you tell your girls in Hamburg and Munich?"  Lena shot back in a huff.  "You do not get the Mother's Cross for having bastards."

Lena was probably a little too on the nose there, but she had also learned the ways of the Reich.  Hypocrisy was their stock and trade.  Besides it was a perfect setup for her next ploy.



Lena pouted.  "I don't want tea I want you to take me to something nice.  Emma's boyfriend takes her dancing with the other officers and their girls."  She was positively juvenile about it too.  It also helped that it was true, Emma had in fact introduced them.  And Thomas too was a young SS officer, but promoted just slightly ahead of Arthur.  Lena hoped the comparison would make him knee jerk out of jealousy.

Take the bait you Nazi bastard.

There it was. That flicker of dark rage building behind his eyes. Arthur pressed his lips tightly together, his jaw muscles visibly working as he ground his teeth together.

For a long moment, the tension grew. Then he leaned back. "Emma's boyfriend has his tongue so deep up Himmler's ass he can taste the Reichsführer's dinner from two days ago. Probably likes it, too, the little faggot."

He raised his arms in seeming defeat. "Alright, alright. You want to go some place special?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her nod.
"In two weeks is the 10th anniversary of the Führer's rise to the chancellorship. There's going to be a large ball. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He leaned forward: "But what if I can take you to a smaller, more intimate gala dinner the week before that? Ever been to the Wannsee Villa? Would you like to meet Frau Goebbels and Frau Braun?"

"Oh Arthur!"  She brightened up instantly, suddenly all sunshine and rainbows, sweet as streusel.  "That sounds wonderful.  Why... you were just teasing me this whole time weren't you?"

She pushed her arm against his shoulder.  "You outsmarted me again!"

And as much as it hurt to do it, she had to.  Lena put down her sewing and jumped into his lap to kiss him.

She had a little switch in her brain for moments like this that she'd learned to flick off.

Arthur wrapped his arms around her and got up, carrying her back to the bedroom ignoring her giggling protests.
"Come on, you can show me how grateful you are for me to take you out. I know my 'girls in Munich and Hamburg' would show me..."", said, mockingly using the words she had used before.

<FADE TO BLACK>

It's Saturday, January 23rd, 1943. A week before the 10-year-anniversary of Hitler's chancellorship.

Lena had to call in a few favors to make sure she'd be free that day and evening, she wouldn't need to get back to he hospital before the Sunday night shift began.
Arthur had been in been in a nervous mood all day, smoking constantly and taking his frustrations out on her. Three times Lena had to re-apply her make up, the first apparently making her look like "a Reeperbahn whore" and the second attempt making her look like "an old potatoe".
Arthur definitely knew how to charm women.

But, he had also bought a very nice and expensive dress for her, to fit into the overall gathering. For the probably 10th time today, he gave her the instructions:
"I will drive you there and drop you off. I then have to turn around and get the boss." She still had no idea who the man was, but apparently she'd find out today. "You wait there and please - Please! - don't embarrass me. This is extremely important for my career. And don't ask any stupid questions! You give answers when spoken to, but be polite. Don't offer any opinions! Just be the, you know, perfect little house wife. I'll be back within an hour or so."

Later that day, Arthur drove his Mercedes staff car to the Wannsee villa. It was an ominous building, but why, Lena couldn't say.



She got out of the car, but before she could kiss Arthur goodbye, he had already turned around and headed back out.

"Of course Arthur."  Lena was all sweetness and light.  She wasn't here for him, she'd put up with it for access to what she wanted.

When he took off, she took the chance to look about.  It was a good opportunity to do some basic surveillance.  She didn't want to appear to be overly motivated, but her eyes could move from one edge, one window, one roofline to the next.  She also looked to see if there were any escape routes or cache spots.

The grounds are under heavy guard: SS-men patrol the area around the house in pairs with dogs, along the walls a few wooden towers have been hastily assembled, allowing a clear view of the roads and fields leading towards the main entrance.

If Lena would have to flee, it would not be easy.

An older woman in a maid's dress approaches Lena, coming from behind the left side of the house. "Hello, Fräulein - are you part of the guests?"
Then she shakes her head.
"Why, of course you are, why else would you be here? Silly old me! Please just go right in, then keep to the right. You'll find the others in the Red Salon."

"Oh thank you."  Lena bowed courteously.  She at least knew where she stood here.  Whatever happened, she had to acquiesce to it and try to get through it civilly and with grace.  This was not the place to try to... acquire anything.  She did keep a small notepad and knew shorthand, and she doubted very much too many people could read shorthand (in English no less), especially if it were disguised as lines of doodles.  But even that was just thinking, it was best if she did no such thing she needed to be a ditzy, easily impressed nurse using a young SS officer to climb socially.

"Please let my... gentleman escort know where I have absconded to when he arrives.  I believe he will return very soon after retrieving another guest."

The older woman nods then turns around tending to her chores again. You enter the villa through the open door. Inside, bustling noises can be heard, with several servants hustling about, making last-minute-changes to the layout of the tables. An old butler greets you with a stiff bow and with a wave of his hand summons another servant who takes your coat.

With a deep, gravely voice, the butler welcomes you: "Good evening and welcome to the Villa Marlier. Some of the guests have already arrived and are waiting in the Red Salon. We are serving some light drinks and entrees to spend the time. If you would follow me, please."

He glares at the younger servant who apparently does an abysmal job of hanging your coat, then leads Lena toward the Red Salon, opening the door for you and ushering you in.

The Red Salon is, well, red. The carpet a dark burgundy red, the ceiling, and the walls covered with murals, all featuring the color red quite heavily.


This room alone must have cost more than the house your little appartment is in. At least it feels like that. In one corner, a piano player plays a few light tunes. To your left, along the windows to the back yard of the villa are afew tables with dishes of fruits, sandwiches, and even a few cakes. Among the fruits, you spot oranges and bananas and try very hard to remember when was the last time you saw either of them in a shop. The delicious smell of real coffee fills the room.

Several women and a few men, the latter all officers of the SS, are standing and chatting in the room. Nobody seemingly takes any notice of you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:49, Mon 22 June 2020.

That was fine with Lena.  She gingerly took some coffee, she needed to blend in but did not want to eat to excess, and it gave her an excuse to be silent as she sipped it.  The less noticed she was the better and she began to survey the room, trying to see if she could identify anyone from any of the dossiers, or at least discern their ranks and commands.  A report of who had been sighted in Berlin might be worth something.

The officers already gathered seem to be mostly junior, but Reichsleiter Bormann, Hitler's secretary hovers, in the room. He reminds you of a vulture, ready to strike at weakness.
And there's Heinz Guderian, the father of the German Blitzkrieg tactics. That's... surprising. He was relieved of his command just a few weeks ago. That he was back in Berlin was one thing, but him being here seemed significant.

Lost in thought, you almost jump as another woman, in her late twenties or early thirties addresses you: "And who do we have here, Fräulein?".

"Oh, so nice to meet you.  I'm Lena Vogt, I'm here with Oberleutnant Hoehnar.  This is such a lovely ballroom."  Lena smiled, trying to stick her legend.  An easily impressed good German social climbing nurse.

*I have no idea what his actual rank would be, I know the SS worked a bit differently than the general German ranks.  I'm sure he's not a Corporal I just picked a rank.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:12, Tue 23 June 2020.

(Updated the rank, but took the Wehrmacht Equivalent)

"Oh, nice to meet you! I'm Eva Braun. You can call me Eva." She leans in a bit closer. "Among this group, it's best to stick to the SS-ranks. The men are peculiar this way. So that would be Obersturmführer Hoehnar. Interesting. Caught yourself a nice one!"

She looks around the room. "Let me introduce you to the others. And a quick pointer about the ranks: Today, we have only Obersturmführer and above here. And let me think... yes, a couple of Sturmbannführer, Standartenführer and of course a few of the higher-ups too. It's going to be just a small gathering."

Lena laughed good-naturedly.  "Well this would have been quite the prime gala in Tübingen.  It is nice to meet you Eva, and that would be lovely.  Though I do wonder where poor dear Arthur is."

Poor and dear Arthur was not, but she did wonder where he was.  Nonetheless she was taking this opportunity, this was primo.  Getting the names of the attendees would be a sweet plum to drop to Allied central intelligence.

Whoever this Eva Braun woman was, she certainly knew a lot of people and behaved somewhat as the hostess.
As the hour passed, she introduced you to General Guderian and his wife, her sister Geli and her fiancé, Standartenführer ("That means Colonel, dear", she whispers into your ears) Fegelein.
There's Oskar von Donnersmarck (interestingly, the only man there without a rank or title), looking somewhat nervous and out of place, holding on tight to a glass of booze. His wife, Philomena, reminds you of a large snake that has recently fed.

Reichsminister Joseph Goebbels and his wife Magda arrived, as did Hermann Göring. The room seemed to brighten up as the Reichsmarschall entered the room. Instead of his gaudy uniform he wore a smart and expensive suit. His smile was affectious and he greeted everybody in the room with genial enthusiasm, kissing the hands of women, saluting and shaking hands with men.
Eva Braun was greeted with a short hug and a kiss on both cheeks.

When it was your turn, he bowed and kissed your hand, complimenting on your appearance. Two weeks ago, he had turned 50 and his face and body were bloated by years of excess. But looking at his blue eyes you can still the sparkle that made him such a womanizer in his youth.

Suddenly, Arthur was at your side, a forced smile on his face. "Herr Reichsmarschall? This is Lena Vogt, my... she's here with me."
Göring looked at your... the man you're here with, an amused smile on his face. "Hoehnar! Did you finally get here? Did you manage to find fourth gear after all?" he bellowed and laughed. He shot you a glance, raising his eyebrows, as if to ask you Really? That guy?.

Then your eyes fell on a thin skeleton of a man. Bald, completely hairless actually, a tall lanky figure. Arthur bit back a comment and faked a laugh. "Mein Liebchen, let me introduce you to my boss."

He took your elbow and pulled you toward the bald figure. Arthur cleared his throat. "Lena Vogt, please meet Oberführer Franz Kemmel."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:06, Wed 24 June 2020.

Lena gave Hermann Göring a knowing look, as if to say How else do mere nurses get invited to such fine parties?

"Oh it is so wonderful to meet you!"  Lena beamed.  She'd been pleasant and congenial all evening.  If she ever survived the war, she should become a used car saleswoman because she could feign enthusiasm for anything.

She held her hand though, German women didn't extend their hands until the gentleman greeted them.  Of course most American women didn't either, but that was something to remember.  It was like that thing about how to count to three on your fingers, one of those tiny details that can destroy a spy.  She'd heard stories about counting the wrong way.

Kemmel looked down at Lena.
"Ah, yes. I have heard a lot about you, Fräulein Vogt." His voice was quiet, a note higher than one would've expected. He kept his hands to himself, but the look he gave Lena, slowly going down and up again, gave the impression as if he were sizing up cattle.
"A very fine specimen you found yourself, there, Hoehnar. Tell me, Fräulein Vogt: Do you have many siblings?"

Stick to your legend. Spies lived and died by their legend, meticulously researched legends, at least if the OSI had done its job.

"I had two, but they are no longer with us I am afraid."  Lena paused, gently folding her hand and raising it to her mouth for a moment.  "Elias did not see his second birthday and poor Rudolph succumbed to diptheria.  I think it's why my mother passed away so young, it broke her heart."

Kemmel narrowed his eyes. "How very tragic. It must have been hard on your father." His tone was cold, detached, clearly not interested.

Before Lena could respond, there was a commotion, shouting outside the Red Salon. At first unintelligible, but then they became clearer, more in unison, and more enthusiastic:

"HEIL HITLER!"

The whole room seemed to turn as one, men and women raising their right arms in unison, and gleefully shouting the Führer's name. And then he entered the room, dressed in his humbly uniform the iron cross he had won in the trenches of France. He smiled at the small crowd, raising his hand in salute, in his typical half-raised way Lena had seen so often on the Wochenschau in the movie theater. Then he lifted his other arm, to and started to calm the group down.

"Please, please, I believe we are all starving and I am sure that Otto has had difficulty enough to make sure the food would be just ready. Haven't you Otto?" His voice was rich in its timbre. He kept standing next to the door, greeting every man who passed him with a handshake, a few short words, taking in their adulation. He kissed the women's hands and Lena saw several of the younger women blush as he spoke quietly to them, his smile genuine and never wavering.

Not all seemed to be in the highest favor of the Führer, though. There were a few occasions where his eyes were a little narrower than with other, the greeting more formal. Lena saw a men like Göring humbled like a schoolboy after the Führer just touched the Reichsmarschall's shoulder instead of shaking his hand.

And then it was her and Arthur's turn.

Lena swallowed her actual self and immersed herself in the legend of Lena Vogt, the small town Good German Girl who made a humble living as a nurse with social ambitions and hoped to marry a nice officer and join proper society.

Lena was bright and chipper and oh-so-excited, but composed and very proper.  She was a good German girl who would always remember this wonderful day when she met the Führer, savior of Germany.

In her core, in the dark space she banished her actual thoughts to, Katie wished so badly she had a Colt 1911 right now.  Or better yet a bomb, just a bomb.  Being able to kill everyone in this room would be worth it, but that possibility was further away than Moscow right now.

The Führer complimented Lena on her very nice dress.
"It is such a joy to meet you!"
Arthur chimed in, his voice almost breaking: "Mein Führer, Lena works as a nurse in the Charité hospital."

Hitler's eyes widened with his smile. "This is wonderful!" He kept a gentle grip on Lena's hand, strong, reassuring. "Your work, Fräulein, is just as important in our effort to defeat Bolshevism and save the German people as Arthur's."

He raised his voice, slightly, enough to draw everybody's attention to you.
"The men in their white coats garner most of the attention, and often rightfully so, for it is their findings that will propel Germany and the German people to ever greater heights! But we must not forget the often overlooked efforts of the workers on the front line. No matter if they plow the fields, load the shells in the ammunition factories, stand next to each other in battle or, like Fräulein Lena here, tends to those who are sick, injured, or wounded, giving them comfort and hope."
He finally let go of Lena's hand and added. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you, as a token of my gratitude."

The room fell silent. The Führer offered a lowly nurse a favor! Everybody seemed to hold their breath, anxiously waiting for Lena's response.

"Oh Mein Führer!  Nothing would please me more than to hear how you will lead us into the glorious future of the Reich!  It is so sad to see what those... those monsters, do to my suffering patients."  Lena choked back a tear.  "Those... those horrible Inselaffens and their Bolshevik butchers!  I know with men like Arthur on our side it is only matter of time before the carnage ends, but, oh those poor brave men who must suffer until then!"

Lena let a tear loose itself.  "It is so hard on the girls Mein Führer, we are... we are not like you men, we cannot steel ourselves so readily against the despair.  And news of our great victories does not reach us in the hospital so quickly as it should.  But, it would inspire us all if we could have a photograph of this august gathering for the hospital!  Just being here tonight it makes me understand how much our work really means, I wish I could share it with the others!  Oh I can imagine it, up at the nurses' station, how inspiring it would be!  Oh and it if were autographed!"   Lena beamed at the idea.

The Führer chuckled and gently pinched Lena's cheek as if she were a little school girl.
"That can certainly arranged, my dear child."

The picture was taken, you, Arthur, the Führer in the middle, his hand hugging your shoulder. Promises were made that it would be sent once developed, then it's off to dinner.

The dinner was an exhausting affair. The men were sitting at one table, only a few women are allowed there - Eva Braun, Magda Goebbels, Frau von Donnersmarck, the wifes of a few higher-ups.

Lena was seated with the lower-level wives and girlfriends, too far away from most of the action and discussion. The food was excellent, the amount of alcohol copious, but Hitler didn't touch the drink, as do some of the SS-men. The Führer's voice sometimes boomed through the room, his laughter infectious. He made a few impromptu speeches, talking about the international jewry, how they and the bolshevists have conspired against Germany. It's the same old hate speech, but now, as Lena sat there... it sounded all so... plausible. Convincing. Lena found herself enthralled with this man, agreeing with his point of view and had to make a serious effort to recall the atrocities the Nazis had commited at the order of this one man.

She remembered what she had read about him in preparation for this assignment. How Hitler had led a coup d'etat in the state of Bavaria, in an attempt of mimicking Mussolini's March On Rome. The Nazi coup had failed, of course, and Hitler had been arrested and put on trial. He had defended himself and had turned the court room into a stage, winning the court over with the power of his sermons.
The judge had almost apologized that he "had" to sentence Hitler, as his hands were bound.

Lena had not believed it, when she read it. Now, she believed.

Lena, for the most part, paid careful attention, but rather than try to record information she lived in the moment.  It was an excruciating experience, but also an exhilarating one.  This was some of the highest level reconnaissance she'd ever done, but she played it close to her chest.

Most of her efforts went into working her legend and ingratiating herself with the present company in any way she could find.  Invitations to play Doppelkopf or more likely Schafkopf with some officer's wives.  Maybe a bored SS officer looking to have an affair.  Or maybe a bored SS officer who wanted to play cards and an officer's wife who wanted to have an affair, whatever permutation she could get she would take.

This could be a golden goose if she used it primarily as a networking opportunity rather than hoping for some great piece of intelligence to come from the event itself.  The spy was playing the long game here.  If she could have more social time with this set, she might find out things the Allies really wanted to know.

It kept getting later and later, but nobody dared to leave. The butlers and servants set up rooms for the ladies, to "freshen up" as it was called, but some of the more experienced women told the "new ones" that there was no point in waiting for the men. They'd come to bed when they'd come to bed.
The men had plenty to discuss.

Lena was shown to a room as well, just one floor up. It was obviously not a guest room, but rather just an office with an extra couch that had been arranged into a make-shift bedroom.

Lena spent a few minutes rummaging around the desk; but there was nothing to be found. Just a few scraps of paper. Clearly, this house wasn't used on a regular basis.

She tried the old "scraping a pencil across the paper to reveal the marks from the writing on the piece of paper on top of it" trick.
But, alas, she did not find the secret to end the war.

Which was very inconsiderate. Lena felt exhausted. There she was, as close to the inner circle as any allied spy was likely to ever get and what had she achieved to find out? Hitler seemed to be a bit miffed about something involving Göring. And these Nazi creeps were creepy as hell. The way that Kemmel had looked at her...

She shuddered.

Well there wasn't much for it.  Being a good spy wasn't about big plays, it was about systematic, consistent work that stuck strictly to protocols.  Your training kept you alive even when creepers stared at you.

While it was still fresh, she noted in shorthand the people she had met and the places she had overheard.  None of it was particularly good, but knowing which officers met with each other was a piece of intel that was worth something.  The photograph would also be worth something, it could be analyzed.  She also drew a line drawing of the building and estimates of its size, but she didn't do all the detail she might go into later.  It took about an hour and she carefully folded the papers and buried them somewhere only a strip search would find them.

She then went to rest in her improvised sleep.  The plan was to nap a bit, and then set out in search of water or a wash room and take the "wrong" turn.

(Hm... give me a Spirit roll. Just to shake the rust off the die roller!)

That's okay I could not recall if I had put a d8 or d6 in Spirit.  I wanted the d8 obviously as a spy needs great force of personality and willpower, but there are only so many points.

13:46, Today: Lena Vogt rolled 17,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+5)17,4.  Spirit!

Rah rah, I got Spirit, yes I do, I got spirit, how about you!?

(Well, you certainly are spirited!)

Lena gasped in panic and fell off the couch in the dark. Had she overslept?
She found the small lamp and turned it on, then looked at her watch. It was just after 2 am. Arthur wasn't here. It could mean he would be here any moment or it could mean that whatever they were talking about, they still talked about.

Lena took a deep breath.  Oversleeping the window would not have been a terrible thing, but the timing was perfect.  She had the perfect excuse to go looking for the washroom.

Going to the door, she gingerly opened it and surveyed around.

Lena is going to "go to the bathroom" but turn the wrong way by "accident".

The house lay quiet and dark, only every fourth lamp was dimly lit. The soft carpet dampened Lena's steps, yet her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she felt the whole house had to hear it.

She turned around a corner and saw one of the butlers, leaning against the wall. She stopped, but he didn't move. As she walked closer, she saw him leaning against the wall, softly snoring. The man had literally falling asleep while standing.

From below, voices could be heard, but she was barely able to understand a word.

(If you want to get closer: Stealth and Notice!)

18:13, Today: Lena Vogt rolled 2,4 using d6+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 1,3.  Stealth.

18:13, Today: Lena Vogt rolled 1,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4.  Notice.

wooo just made that

"...a whole army lost, Göring. Lost! I should've never listened to you. 'We'll supply them from the air', pah!"

"Mein Führer, my planes need airstrips to land! Paulus should've defended them better, then this would've never..."

"Unfug!"

Somebody else spoke, but softer, their voices not getting through.
"You think so, Guderian?"

More quiet conversation. Lena focused on hearing, listening, imagining her ears growing bigger and bigger. Maybe she could risk creeping a little closer?

Just as she was about to get closer, the door opened and one of the men stepped outside, awkwardly stretching his legs, staggering off toward the restrooms, probably.

"...as a viable option." That seemed to be Kemmel. Couldn't the bastard speak up a little?
"You are not suggesting a full-scale operation, are you?" Lena couldn't place that voice.
If Kemmel answered, it wasn't audible.
"What do you think, Guderian?"

"Mein Führer, I believe this to be a fool's errand..."

"IT IS NOT A FOOL'S ERRAND!" answered a male noise, high-pitched, seemingly enraged. "I have spent a good part of my life and the better part of my fortune on this. It works! But we are stretched thin!"

Someone scoffed. "You and everybody else. You think we couldn't use a 1000 more planes or a 1000 more tanks, more oil, more everything?"

Someone drummed on the table. "What would be the minimum required to enable Sonderkommando N to continue?"

"We need men, tanks, planes, trucks, supplies..."
Göring started laughing.

"I might be able to spare a regiment. Would need to be handpicked men, of course. Would that be sufficient, for now?"
"Yes, Reichsführer SS. I know just the man for this."

"That's settled, then. Are you happy now, Donnersmarck?"

"Mein Führer, I... I..."
"Are. You. Happy?"

There was a pause. "Yes, mein Führer."

"Good. Bormann, make sure that the paperwork is in order. I want to meet the commandant of this regiment before he's officially assigned. And don't forget the engineers we talked about earlier. Any materials needed will need to be obtained locally. What else?"

"What do we do with Paulus?"


The man who had left earlier returned from whatever he had been doing and Lena ducked back into the shadows. The man closed the door behind him and the conversation was dampened again.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:20, Wed 01 July 2020.

Lena paused.  She listened for a moment longer, but she wasn't getting anything, and trying to enter the room was suicide.  A thought then occurred to her.  She corrected course, "remembering" where the wash room was.

She needed a cup, or a glass.  A glass was better.

Lena tip-toed into the Red Salon, but the servants had already removed all the dishes. Where was the kitchen in this damned place?

(Notice and Stealth!)

21:54, Today: Lena Vogt rolled 12,5 using d6+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of (6+5)11,4.  Stealth.

21:54, Today: Lena Vogt rolled 4,2 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,2.  Notice.

It took a while, but eventually, Lena found the kitchen. In the light of her cigarette lighter, she found the cupboard with glasses.

Back to the Room Where It Happens!

She turned around the corner and almost runs directly into two figures standing next to the open door leading to the backyard. The cold draft tipped her off and she pressed herself against the wall, not daring to breathe.

"Kurch won't be happy." She recognized the voice immediately. Arthur. Her "Liebchen".
Someone barked a short laughter. "Kurch can go fuck himself."
Kemmel.
The two men lit cigarettes, there was a click of lighters, and an intake of breaths. Oh, right. The Führer hated smoking.

"What are you telling your wench?"
"Nothing. She's just a dumb slut, spreading her legs for some extra benefits. Bringing her here is going to get me a *lot* of benefits for the next weeks."
There was a pause.
"Do not underestimate her. She's smart. There's... something about her. Did you have her checked by Heydrich's boys?"

There was no audible answer.

"Do not get attached to her. The Sonderkommando is more important. You may have to ditch her if we ramp up operations."

"It's not going to come to that."

"Don't be so sure. Once Ivan is dealt with, there will be a lot of people with a lot of time on their hands. Sonderkommando N may develop into something more. If you want to keep her, she'll have to be questioned. Thoroughly."

"Of course, Oberführer."

Kemmel tsked. "You should ditch that floozy. Is she even a party member? Does she truly believe? They all say they are proud national socialists. Wouldn't be surprised if she voted for the socialists, back in the day. Nurses... have a weakness for the weak, after all. Oh, not like that, Hoehnar."

She could just see Arthur in her mind's eye, stiffening at the insinuation he was weak.

"Let's go to sleep. It's going to be long weeks ahead of us."

The two men closed the terrace door and walked away.

And like that, Lena booked it back to the room.  Quick on the double, but as quietly as she could manage.

((Ending this scene, I'll leave the thread open in case you want to add more background or some "fan-fiction" to round out your back story. You can add anything between now (January 1943) and the start of the actual mission.))