Blitzkrieg: Origins of the Prime: A Superhero Spy Thriller (2 page)

“The man who killed your husband is dead. He has been avenged,” Arnulf said as he returned his pistol to its holster. “I could have killed you instead, but as I said, that would be a travesty. Now you have no reason not to trust me and you also have no chips with which to bargain. Drop the pistol and come with me.” He held out his hand and smiled pleasantly. “I promise I will not harm you.”

“What about the others?” she asked as she waved her hand out at her fellow captives.

“As far as I understand, they are to be relocated to Warsaw,” he said as he glanced disinterestedly at the other Jews. “But that is not really my department.”

“What is your department?” she asked.

“Come with me and I will show you,” he said.

Brygida took a deep breath and slowly released it. As she did so, her eyes caught those of the collaborator who had sold them out. She suddenly jerked the pistol up, shot the rat in the chest, and watched contentedly as his body fell dead in the blood covered snow. The soldiers raised their weapons once again, ready to fire. Arnulf held up his arms to stop them from doing so.

Brygida tossed her pistol onto the ground. “Alright,” she said as she glanced around at all of the soldiers, before her eyes eventually fell on the colonel. “I suppose I do not have much of a choice.”

Arnulf smiled at her, “No, my dear, you do not.”

Brygida stepped over to Noah’s body, knelt down in the snow beside him, and placed her fingers to her lips and then to Noah’s cheek. She wiped away her tears and then stood, following Colonel Arnulf to a waiting car. She slipped into the back seat beside him and the car drove away through the snowy night.

The man and woman who knelt in the snow beside Noah’s body watched their hopes for salvation disappear as the car drove out of sight. Tears flowed down their cheeks as they watched another young Nazi officer draw his pistol and step behind them. Two more shots rang out, punctuating the stillness of the night.

***

Brygida sat on a sofa in the recreation room, flipping through a copy of the German art magazine
Kunst Dem Volk
, casually browsing the pictures. A couple of other women played ping-pong at at nearby table. They weren’t nearly as far along in their pregnancy as Brygida, however. She felt as though she were about to burst, and in fact often times had to be assisted when she moved from one room to another within the medical facility.

Colonel Arnulf had taken her to the facility, somewhere in Germany, around eight months previously. The doctors there had explained that they were attempting to perfect human babies and that she would become pregnant with twins through medical insemination. It had been explained that they were looking for strong women, and if she could successfully carry twins she would have proved her strength and use to the Reich. She suspected they were holding something back though—that there was some other reason that it was to be twins.

It was further explained to Brygida that there would be several tests, possibly some surgeries and injections of chemicals, various hormones, etcetera. She had quietly wondered what would happen to her if she was unable to become pregnant, but she never had to find out. It did not take long before Brygida was pregnant with twins. Now she was huge and eager for them to be delivered.

Besides, Brygida was ready to meet her babies. She had been upset at first, having always expected to have a family the old-fashioned way, but she soon came to grips with the situation. Instead of crying into her pillow at night, she should be glad that she was alive. She doubted the others that had shared the cellar with her had fared so well. She would love her babies no matter what. After all, they would need their mother even more than most, because they would most likely be viewed as freaks by the rest of the world. She would love them. She would care for them. She would protect them. Always.

Brygida closed the magazine and rubbed her pregnant belly, speaking softly to it and telling her babies how excited she was that she was going to meet them soon. She told them how they would have so much fun playing together and how lucky they were to be twins so that they would come into this world with a friend.

Brygida’s conversation with her babies was interrupted when her friend, Chessa, was wheeled into the room in a wheel chair. The nurse that brought her inside assisted her onto the sofa beside Brygida. Chessa grunted through the discomfort as she sat. Brygida gave her a sympathetic smile as she placed her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Brygida asked as the nurse left them alone.

Chessa laid her head down upon Brygida’s shoulder. “I’ve been having contractions all morning, but the nurses say I’m not ready yet. I’m so ready for them to come out,” she said, the exasperation clear in her voice.

“I know, Chessa, I know. Me too.”

Chessa had been at the facility longer than Brygida, and was a couple of weeks further along in her pregnancy. The two of them together were much further along than any of the other women in the facility. In fact, every other expectant mother seemed to miscarry before reaching the third trimester and were never seen or heard from again. It was explained that they were sent to a different facility for special therapy, but Brygida feared they had been sent somewhere much much worse, if they had even survived. New young women were brought in to take their place and the cycle started all over. Thus, Brygida and Chessa had become very close over their months together.

At only seventeen, Chessa was really just a girl, and Brygida had almost instantly been very protective of her. Chessa was a Slav and had been snatched right off the streets in broad daylight not long after the German occupation of Czechoslovakia. She had been sent to the facility soon after and after a few failed attempts had finally become pregnant just after Brygida had arrived. The two had gone through all the hells of pregnancy together and had formed a very special bond, one that they would have had trouble explaining.

Brygida stroked Chessa’s hair gently as the girl closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of Brygida’s touch. “I love you, Brygida,” Chessa said.

Brygida smiled. “I love you too, darling.” Brygida turned her face to kiss Chessa on top of her head. “So, have you picked out names yet?”

Chessa grimaced through a contraction, before sitting up and smiling at Brygida. “If they are boys, I’m going to name them Alexi, after my brother, and Vladimir, after my father. If they are girls, Alena and Caterina, after each of my grandmothers.”

“What if it’s a boy and a girl?” Brygida asked. “Which names do you like best?”

Chessa bit her bottom lip as she stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Alexi and Alena,” she finally said with a giant smile.

Brygida couldn’t help but chuckle at the young woman’s excitement. “Those are all lovely names,” she told her. She allowed Chessa to squeeze her hand tightly through another contraction.

“And you?” Chessa asked when she had recovered.

Brygida shook her head. “I’m not really sure yet,” she said, but then clarified. “Well, if one’s a boy I do intend to name him Noah, after my husband.” Thoughts of Noah being shot dead, lying in his own blood in the snow came rushing back and Brygida tried to suppress a sob by placing a hand over her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

Chessa knew what had happened to Brygida’s husband and understood this sudden outpouring of emotion. She threw her arms around Brygida and pulled her close. Brygida returned the embrace, squeezing Chessa tight and sobbing onto her friend’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Chessa whispered soothingly into her ear. “Be strong, you’ll have little ones to take care of soon.”

Brygida nodded as she pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes. She knew Chessa was right. They both had to be strong. It could be worse. It could always be worse.

Brygida saw Chessa’s eyes go wide and then felt a sudden wetness against her leg. She looked down and noticed that Chessa’s gown was soaked. She looked back up at her friend. “Your water broke,” she said and Chessa nodded. Brygida looked past her friend. “Nurse!” she shouted.

A nurse quickly reached them and took stock of the situation. She and Brygida helped Chessa back into the wheelchair. Brygida gave her a little peck on the cheek. “Be strong,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Chessa squeezed Brygida’s hand. “Soon,” the girl smiled before being wheeled away.

Brygida stayed in the recreation room most of the day, with the exception of meal times, and would ask every nurse that passed if there was any word on Chessa. She was told again and again that Chessa was fine and that everything was going smoothly.

Brygida eventually joined the other expectant mothers in the large ward where they all slept, still not having any definitive news about Chessa and her babies. Lights were turned out promptly at nine o’clock and Brygida lay back to sleep. She could not sleep, however, and tossed and turned for hours, worried about her friend and herself.

Brygida decided that she needed to visit the restroom and flung the covers back. She swung her feet down to the cold floor and pushed herself up to her feet. She more or less waddled between the beds where the other women slept, to the common bathroom at the end of the ward. Just as she reached the door she felt a splash of wetness. She looked down and saw the floor between her feet was wet.

Brygida turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Nurse!” she shouted. “Help!” Other women sat up in their beds as Brygida heard the clatter of feet running toward her. The nurse reached her. And placed an arm around her shoulders.

“Let’s get you back into bed, dear,” she said. Brygida nodded. “We’ll move you to a birthing room soon.” Brygida allowed the nurse to help her back to bed and lay down. She felt a contraction shoot through her, followed quickly by another. They were close. She turned her head to see the nurse returning with another and a wheelchair. She smiled knowing that she would meet her babies soon.

***

“Push!” the doctor shouted. Brygida gritted her teeth through the pain and pushed as hard as she could, her groan turning into a yell. “Here he comes,” the doctor said. “I’ve got him.”

Brygida saw the astonished look on the doctor’s face and when he handed the baby to the nurse she knew why. The baby was enormous. Brygida’s babies had come early, as twins often do, yet this baby looked extremely mature. The nurse rushed the child from the room and Brygida’s eyes followed her.

“Brygida!” the doctor snapped, calling Brygida’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Concentrate, there is another one still in there.” Brygida nodded and began to push once more. The second was much easier and the doctor soon produced a small child, crying in his arms. The doctor handed the babe to another nurse.

Brygida held her arms out expectantly, wanting desperately to hold her babies, but the nurse turned and rushed it from the room. “Herr Doctor, may I please hold my babies?” Brygida asked.

The doctor smiled warmly at her. “Not right now, my dear. We need to check their vitals, make sure everything is alright. Get them clean, you know. You’ll see them soon enough.” He patted her hand reassuringly. “Right now you should rest. You have had an exhausting night.”

“Yes, Herr Doctor,” Brygida said accepting the explanation. She
was
tired after all. A nurse switched out her pillow and sheet for a clean one. Brygida thanked her and then laid her head back, closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Brygida did not know how long she slept, but in her subconscious she sensed danger, and she forced herself awake. Her eyes opened and she was startled to find Colonel Arnulf seated in a chair near the foot of her bed smoking a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke from his nostrils.

“Herr Colonel,” Brygida said as the sat up, the surprise evident in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

Arnulf took another puff of the cigarette before stamping the butt out on the side table. “Why I have come to see my triumph, my dear.”

“Your triumph?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied as he stood. “Oh, Brygida, I knew you were the right woman for this program and you have proven me correct.” Brygida attempted to muster a smile. “You should be proud, my dear,” he continued. “You have produced two very healthy and strong little boys.”

Brygida’s face brightened immediately. “When may I see them?” she asked. “I have already picked out their names. I’ll name the first Noah, after my late husband, and the other Micah, after my father.”

Arnulf nodded. “Yes, those are very nice Hebrew names. However, I think we will give them good strong German names instead.”

“What?” Brygida asked.

“Well we wouldn’t want everyone to know their mother was a Jew, do we?” he asked. “I think we’ll name the first one Rolf. I had a brother named Rolf. He died a few months ago in the East. For the smaller one, I was thinking Axel. Yes, Axel and Rolf. Very nice names, don’t you think?”

Brygida knew she was in no position to argue. Besides she did not really care what their names were. They were her babies and she loved them. “They are lovely names, Herr Colonel,” she said diplomatically, even managing a believable smile. “May I please see them?” she asked again.

Arnulf ignored her request. “I cannot believe the luck I had finding you. I don’t even know why I went out with the squad the night we met. Something pulled me to go. Something almost magical. And it led me to you.” He grinned proudly at her. “You are such an amazing woman, Brygida,” he said. “Did you know that you are only woman to have ever survived the pregnancy and the birthing process? Two other women survived the pregnancy, but both died in child birth.”

Arnulf walked over to stand beside her bed. “Your first child was nearly twenty pounds. The second was just over six, so you were carrying twenty-six pounds of baby inside you. You survived all of the surgeries, the chemical injections, everything.” He took her hand in his. “Truly remarkable, my dear.”