Fighting Ghosts

A Story by Jake

A short story from WW2

The Night of Long Knives

Felix sat in the uncomfortable wooden seat. He rubbed his damp palms on his legs, again, and rested them anxiously on his lap. He glanced over the table at Hans, who was staring intently at the clock suspended on the wall above them, a look of mild intrigue etched on his face. They were waiting in his cheap office, sat behind two heavy oak desks facing each other on either side of the room. The walls were painted a stark white, and the thin carpet was blood red. Save for the heavy black clock hung on the wall between the desks, there were no other decorations- which was fitting with Hans’ character, if what Felix had heard was true. He looked down at the dossier in front of him, flipped through the thick pages to the picture of their target. A grainy, faded face stared through listless eyes at Felix, subtitled with bold letters that spelled out the name KARL ERNST. The target’s features were sharp, he looked cold and calculating as he glared through the page into Felix’s eyes. He slammed shut the folder, and turned to Hans.

“How much longer is there, anyway?” he asked assertively. Hans turned to look at him, his expression contorting sardonically as he teased,

“Not long, child. Are you getting nervous? Losing your stones?” he laughed, and his cruel bark sounded more like someone shouting in pain than any laugh Felix had heard before.

“No, but your chairs are so damn uncomfortable that…” Felix began to protest.

Hans interrupted him, slamming his palms on the table as he stood up, sending his chair spiraling to the floor.

“What did you say about my goddamn chairs? This is my office and you will treat it with respect! Do you hear me?” Hans shouted. Felix gulped, his heart racing.

“N… Nothing, I was just, um, just saying that…” He twisted awkwardly in his seat. “I was just saying that…”

“Ha!” Hans exploded, “I knew you didn’t have the balls! You should have been left writing reports, not sent out to work with me.” He picked up his chair calmly and sat back down chuckling, and resumed his study of the slowly ticking clock. Felix took a deep breath, and slumped back in his seat. Why was he even here? It was clear Hans didn’t want him to be, and he wasn’t sure he did himself. He remembered the moment he had been sat at his old desk, writing the necessary paperwork from the recent bans on trade unions. His boss had approached him and slammed down the thick folder that now lay in front of him. Before Felix had a chance to ask what it was, he was told that he would be leaving the comfortable office and working for a new boss. Hans.

After what seemed like an eternity in the confined office, it was finally time to move. Karl’s ship was scheduled to leave in exactly an hour, which meant Felix and Hans would have to move fast to reach him in time. Hans was moving calmly but quickly around the office, gathering various documents into his small briefcase. Felix donned his heavy black coat, and stood at the door waiting. He glanced over at Hans, drank in his appearance. He was tall and lithe, his eyes sinking into his face amidst dark shadows, shrouding his countenance in mystery. He had the ghost of an enigmatic smirk lurking under his heavy brow, completed with a short crop of dusty brown hair. He swiveled on his heels, briefcase in hand, and briskly walked through the doorway without giving Felix as much as a glimpse as he brushed past him into the hallway.

“You have the papers, yes?” he asked curtly.

“Yes, right here.” Felix replied, patting his breast pocket.

“Good. Take this.” Hans responded, handing Felix a small object covered in shiny black material. As it was placed in his hands, Felix felt its unexpected weight and frowned.

“What is it?” he asked, tentatively pulling back the cover. Hans grinned.

“It’s a backup. In case of emergency” he replied, winking. Felix caught a glimpse of a matte black handle, a cold steel barrel- he pulled the case off of the gun. “Put that away, you idiot!” Hans exclaimed. Felix quickly fumbled it back into the cloth bag, and shoved it into his coat pocket. “And don’t go waving that about.” his tall companion growled before turning quickly and storming out of the building.

Felix and Hans sat silently in the back of the car. Felix fingered the cloth case in his pocket anxiously.

“You shouldn’t be so nervous, boy.” Hans stated.

“What do you mean? I’m… I’m not that nervous.” Felix assured himself.

“It’s obvious you are.” Hans asserted, “And if I can tell this easily, you can sure as hell bet your enemies will.” Felix didn’t reply, but stared out the window. How could he not be nervous? They were going to arrest a dangerous man, who had plotted

Felix moved swiftly, Hans lingering just behind. He grabbed Karl by the arm, who turned so they were face to face.

“Karl Ernst?” The man turned to face him, a look of shock and displeasure clouding his countenance. The first thing Felix thought was that Karl looked nothing like his pictures, his face was much softer and his eyes were a piercing blue.

“Yes, can I help you?” He disentangled his arm from Felix’s. “We are on our way to our honeymoon, so I would appreciate if you refrained from manhandling me and explained your purpose.” He demanded, gesturing towards a young woman by his side.

“We are arresting you under the orders of Herr Hitler as a recognised enemy of the state.” Felix asserted. Ernst’s face twisted in displeasure as he attempted to step away.

“And who are you to tell me what the chancellor would want from me?” Karl spat, looking at his blank shoulder strap, bare of any defining insignia. “Some insignificant SS-Mann has no right to accost a Gruppenfuhrer in this manner!” He scoffed, pushing past Felix- directly into Hans’ path, who put a hand on his shoulder to halt his approach.

“I would appreciate you not talking to my associate in such a manner.” Hans stated coolly.

“You!” Karl gasped, his eyes widening.

“Yes, Karl. Me.” Hans smirked. “And I would have you recognise that you are now speaking to a Standartenfuhrer who has not been noted as an enemy of the state, and would appreciate for you to check your tone.” His face betrayed no fear, his eyes were locked in a steady gaze at Ernst’s, who was becoming more agitated by the minute.

“You have no right to do this, you b*****d! You coward! A group of bandits, that’s all you are! No right whatsoever!”

“Ah, Karl. When will you realise that we are all bandits? I have just committed to the role more than you ever will.”

Throughout the commotion, Karl’s wife had been silent. Now she pulled Felix’s sleeve, shouted something ineligible in his ear. The commotion caused people to look up, intrigued. Amidst the noise, Karl began to back away, preparing to take flight. Hans’ gaze swept over the area, realising that he had to move now. He stepped forward, grabbed Karl’s arm firmly.

“Listen, Karl. We have the necessary papers requiring your presence at a hearing in the barracks of the Leibstandarte. If you come now, quietly, it will mean your voice will be heard- and your wife may be spared. I suggest you take my advice, and follow us.” At these words, Karl’s defiant expression dulled as he realised he had no choice in the matter. His shoulders slumped as he turned to face his wife, pushing past Felix who stepped forward to talk to Hans.

“Okay, Hans. He’s coming now. So, we take him to the car and…”

“No. You take him to the car. The driver knows the destination. You have your backup plan in case anything goes wrong. I will take care of the other one.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a grotesque smile. Felix faltered. How could he leave anyone here with this monster? Nobody deserved that fate. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, when Hans interjected. “You are thinking of saying something now. I recommend you don’t, and that you remember who you are talking to, boy.” Hans turned and walked towards the pair, Ernst speaking rapidly to his crying wife. Hans grabbed her shoulder, and pulled them apart, and marched Karl to the stationary car waiting on the side of the square. He flung open the door and pushed the officer into the back seat, slamming it shut behind him. Felix approached him.

“Hans, what are you going to do with her? Can’t you just let her…” he began. Hans silently opened the front door.

“Get in the car. Escort the traitor to Kurt. You have your orders, and I would recommend that you follow them before you find yourself sat in the back of the car with Karl.” Felix gulped. He stared into Hans’ eyes. There was nothing there, no compassion, no emotion. He got into the car.

“What are you doing here?” Karl gasped. He slammed on the window as the driver began to pull away from the pavement. Hans was slowly approaching the young lady, who was crying silently. “No! You promised!” Karl shouted, slamming the window again, desperately. The car drove on.