"Colonel Meier, what are you doing?" A voice came through the door while light entered the dark room.
A groaning could be heard from within.
"Sleeping?" the Colonel answered while turning around in his bed. He squinted his eyes against the intense light coming from the hallway.
"You still have not given a cleaning plan for the officers. Do I have to remind you that you were appointed temporary commander of the Airborne Corps Berlin only as it says, temporary? Your lack of enthusiasm is truly disturbing. It is something I will have to report to the party," the man said with a venomous voice before already turning away.
"The party. You, Inspector Fuchs, are the true commander here since the General..." Meier paused while rising from his bed. "Left," he said provocatively as he climbed out.
"If you say so, Meier," Fuchs said while adjusting his glasses.
"Yes. So why don't you work on the plan while I continue sleeping? It doesn't matter after all what I am doing."
"Careful," Fuchs began while two SS men appeared behind him.
Meier tilted his head to the side. His jawline was still clearly visible despite being middle aged. It was clenched while containing all his anger. Fuchs nodded before turning around.
"Tomorrow morning I want the plan. Choose who you want to throw away and who is useful. Remember, there is always trash. You just have to search for it."
Fuchs walked away and left behind a baffled Meier.
"This bastard," he murmured while balling his fist. He stormed out of the room. "Can't sleep now."
He walked through the dimly lit hallways of the Luftwaffe casern before opening a door. The fresh night air hit his warm head and the cooling sensation calmed him. Slowly he walked toward the large landing strip. The asphalt was wet from the continuous downpour of rain, yet he continued with a glass bottle in his hand. He raised it and took a big gulp.
Then he continued until he spotted a Messerschmitt fighter plane standing beside the hangar with its propellers missing.
"Haven't finished the repairs," he murmured while kicking against the plane. "Nothing is working anymore."
Quietly he sat onto the wet ground and leaned against the metal hull of the plane. He sat there for a while. The liquid in his glass bottle somehow never diminished. The cause was either his already drunken state or the continuous downpour which always filled up the bottle with water instead of alcohol. It was something Meier did not even notice.
His gaze wandered across the large airfield. The place he had chosen was right at the edge where a large metal fence worked as a barrier between the airport and the outside. The only road toward the entrance led past Meier's position.
Then suddenly lights could be seen in the distance while growing larger and more intense. Meier had to raise his hand to shield himself from the light. The sound of engines followed. Then the lights went past him and the sound of engines diminished. The shutting of doors could be heard.
When Meier finally lowered his hand and looked in the direction of the sound, he saw someone. A face.
His eyes went wide with surprise and even hope. Quickly he raised himself while holding onto the wing of the plane. Quietly he walked parallel to the group while observing the man in the middle who still had not noticed him. Then suddenly he stopped.
"It's him."
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"Huh," Fuchs muttered, twitching when suddenly the lights in the hallway turned off. He turned back and exchanged a concerned look with his two SS guards before quickening his pace toward the entrance.
There was a reception area with a telephone. Fuchs glided around the table and grabbed the phone while dialing numbers hastily. He raised the receiver and waited, but nothing happened. He looked at the telephone with absolute bafflement before grabbing another phone standing further away. He did the same, this time with more anger, but still nothing happened.
"It is like the phone is... dead," he muttered while shaking his head.
Suddenly the doors opened. A man walked through with his hat already soaked and water dripping down onto the parquet floor. Behind him walked around a dozen Wehrmacht soldiers who looked around the lobby.
"Kesselring," two voices said simultaneously. One spoke with confusion and the other with hope.
Fuchs turned and looked at the origin of the other voice. It was Meier standing in the hallway. His clothes and hair were completely soaked and the familiar glass bottle was still in his hand.
"Meier, are you drunk?" Fuchs asked before answering his own question. "Forget it. What are you doing here, Herr Kesselring? And who are these men?"
Kesselring smiled lightly and stepped forward without answering. With every step he took, Fuchs became more nervous.
"Did the Führer pardon you or did you flee?" his voice grew louder toward the end.
Still Kesselring did not answer. He continued walking until he reached Fuchs, then nothing. He simply walked past the baffled official while raising his arms.
"Colonel Meier," Kesselring said while embracing the man who began patting him on the shoulder.
"General," Meier said with pure nostalgia while looking at Kesselring with a mixture of hope and fear. Kesselring noticed his gaze and tilted toward Meier's ear to whisper something. Meier leaned back and gave Kesselring a surprised look which slowly morphed into one of utter satisfaction.
Fuchs slowly stepped back while Meier raised his bottle and stretched out his arm. Kesselring grabbed it. Fuchs stopped before the General suddenly and explosively turned with the glass bottle still in his hand. It shattered against the head of Fuchs and left him shocked while his body fell backward and landed violently on the ground.
Before the SS guards could react, they were riddled with bullets from the Wehrmacht soldiers who were already waiting for this moment. Meier sighed and looked toward the ceiling before suddenly erupting into laughter. Kesselring smiled too and patted him on the shoulder.
"Wake them up. All of them. I am back."
Moments later, sirens echoed through the hallways of the casern. Soldiers ran hectically out of their rooms while following the shouting officers. Their uniforms were still half open. Quietly they assembled outside in the rain. Their faces were full of anger and frustration, even through their sleep deprived states.
"What the hell is this?" one asked while rubbing his eyes and tilting his head to the side to dodge the rain.
Then the doors to the outside opened and muted the trained soldiers immediately. Meier and other high ranking officers walked through while assembling before them in the rain. Meier was holding something covered in his hands.
Then, when they thought it was over, the door remained open. Another silhouette suddenly appeared around the corner and stepped out of the building. His hat was pulled low. He walked past the soldiers who mustered him with questioning eyes, but some had already grasped the truth and held their breath.
With a simple gesture, Kesselring raised his hat and let the rain soak his hair.
"Do you recognize me, soldiers of the Berlin air corps? Do you remember me still?" Kesselring shouted while his eyes pierced every person standing there on this night.
A soldier began nodding and others joined frantically before one brave man shouted.
"Yes, General!"
"Yes! Yes!" Shouts came clustered yet formed something whole.
Kesselring smiled wholeheartedly before raising his hand. The splattering of the rain remained the only other sound.
"I do too. And I have decided to return. I have decided to bolster against the injustice that was done to me and against the injustice that was inflicted upon you. Tonight we will get our retribution. Tonight Berlin will fall and rise. And tomorrow!" Kesselring shouted and stopped. "We will see justice. But I will give you a glimpse."
He gestured for an officer still standing at the door. The man went around the corner and came back with Fuchs who was bleeding from his head and had his arms bound with ropes.
The eyes of the soldiers turned hostile immediately while some spat on the ground. They recognized the man who had put them through countless hardships and hurt their pride so often over the past few months.
"This man was just an emissary of the devil. As for the devil..." Kesselring gestured to Meier who uncovered the thing he was holding. It was a portrait of Hermann Göring that had been hanging in the office of Fuchs.
"He is attending too," Kesselring said more quietly while grabbing the portrait and holding it out toward Fuchs whose hands were freed.
"Take it," Kesselring said with a murderous voice.
Slowly Fuchs reached out and grabbed the portrait with questioning eyes. Then Kesselring simply turned and walked toward the entrance again together with the other officers. Before walking through the door, Kesselring turned one last time.
"At ease, soldiers," he shouted and turned around the corner. He left behind a terrified Fuchs whose survival instincts had finally reached him.
Kesselring walked together with Meier.
"This is a full blown coup by the Wehrmacht. Are you ready to take part in it?" he asked with a voice so loud that the other officers also heard it.
They nodded decisively while giving Kesselring a proud look.
"Since Schwarzer has disabled the telephone network across the city according to the plan, we have to send the message of our success differently. We will fly once over the city. We will fly low so that they notice the anomaly. It is a signal we have agreed upon," Kesselring said.
At 0:35, two Messerschmitt fighters left the airport while disappearing into the thick clouds.
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