Surrender

It’s a trap. We all know that we’re dead if we don’t drop our weapons, so we let them fall and raise our hands high.

I wince when I hear a flurry of gunshots from outside. A man screams. Fascists emerge from the shadows with their weapons trained on us.

A German Lieutenant approaches us confidently, a Luger in his hand.

“Outside.” He growls at us, motioning to the door with his Luger. “Rats.”

The three of us are herded single file to the door.

“Don’t tell them anything!” Clarke hisses at us. One of the soldiers bashes him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, folding him over.

“Up!” The Lieutenant barks, waving his Luger again.

I’m the last out, and gasp when I see Dmitriev laying dead on his back, arms sprawled to the sides. A handful of German soldiers stand around, kicking the dust. The knot in my stomach twists when they line the three of us up against the wall of the barn.

“Excellent work, gentlemen.” The Lieutenant says proudly, pacing about before us, his weapon still in his hand. “It is a great day for Deutschland. With the capture or **** of every partisan dog, our German Reich grows safer. Soon, peace will be in our hands and we will be able to fully enjoy our duly earned lebensraum.”

“But Partisans are like rats.” He hisses, stepping towards us. “Where you kill one, there is another lurking in the shadows. You must seek out the nest of rats and burn it to the ground.”

He steps up to Clarke, and nods for one of his bigger soldiers to come forwards, who pushes his sleeves up as he approaches us.

“Where is your rat hole, partisan?” The Lieutenant hisses at Clarke.

Clarke takes a deep breath and sighs, before speaking confidently. “James Clarke, Colonel. O15…”

The soldier bashes him in the guts again with the butt of his Mauser, which makes him croak and drop to his knees. The officer paces before us a few times before getting up in my face.

“And what about you, flintenwieber?” He hisses. “Are you going to talk?”

I give him the filthiest look I can muster, looking directly into his eyes. Fury builds behind them.

“Talk!” He demands.

I begin. “Kulikova, Tatyana Romanovna, priv…”

My eyes widen at the feeling of the steel butt of a rifle smashing into my guts, which folds me over to my hands and knees. I groan as I slowly pick myself up.

“Wrong answer, communist slut.” The Lieutenant growls.

“You’re a quiet one.” He says, stepping into Hobb’s personal space. “Are you going to talk, or sign your own **** warrant?”

“He doesn’t understand you.” I tell him.

“Shut your fucking mouth, cunt.” He snarls, leveling his Luger at my chest. I step back and raise my hands a little higher.

“Talk.” He growls, aiming at Hobbs.

“Roger Hobbs, Maj…”

Hobbs is silenced when the soldier smashes him in the head with the stock of his rifle, knocking him to the ground. I rush to his side as he tries to pick himself up.

“Hands to yourself, you filthy Leninist whore!” The Lieutenant shouts, aiming his Luger in my face. I stand up carefully and raise my hands again. “If you step out of line one more time, I’ll paint the side of this barn with your fucking brains!”

“Stay!” He barks, before stepping back and beginning to pace again.

“We have all done something that we can be very proud of today!” He announces to his men. “The capture of two important allied officers!”

“Round up the rest of the weapons.” He orders. “We’re going to bring these two in.”

These two?

The Lieutenant smirks at me before looking at two of his men. “And you two! Hang the bitch!”

My jaw drops and my eyes widen. Hobbs and Clarke look at me in horror.

The Lieutenant steps up again, in my face.

“That’s right.” He says to me. “There is a place in this world for your kind, degenerate flintenwieber. The end of a noose.”

He turns to his men again.

“Make sure you do it by the road. That way people can see her rot.”