THE FÜHRER'S DAUGHTER

THE FÜHRER'S DAUGHTER (Episode 3 of 5) Chapters 7 & 8

CHAPTER SEVEN

GRACE STARED AT HER HANDS as she strode toward the airfield security checkpoint, and willed them to stop shaking. Disguised as the SS officer Lieutenant Yvonne Koehler, she had to remain calm if Miles and Jack were to make it out alive. Also in on the ruse, Bruckner stood waiting with them out by the airfield.

This was insane, what if the guards realized she was an imposter? The Empire would surely seize the opportunity to make an example of her, an Infekt traitor that had been living under false pretenses in the palace.

A surge of heat rushed through her body as she handed the papers to the pilot—Private Georg Bayer—who sat with his feet up on the break room table.

"What's this?" he said, between bites of a sandwich. "I wasn't notified of any changes in the flight schedule."

"I have a prisoner who needs to be transported right away," Grace-as-Koehler said. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady her hands and glared directly at him. Despite her inner anxiety, she would not release his gaze. "This is not a request."

A subtle snarl twisted the edge of his mouth, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Scheduled flights only."

Grace folded her arms over her chest and gave him a threatening look.  "Is that so..." she glanced at his uniform, then back to him, "...Private Bayer?"

After two interminable seconds, he smiled and shook his head. "Just following protocol." A haughty expression still laced his countenance, but he stood, nevertheless, and motioned to his co-pilot. "They told me you were a she-wolf, Frau Koehler."

"You have no idea."

Bayer got up and opened the door. Grace followed directly behind him, and nearly bumped into him when he stopped and spun around.

"You're certain this has been authorized through all proper channels?" he asked. "Colonel Tanenbaum is hell bent on cutting costs and eliminating extraneous flights."

 "You should be more concerned about what will happen if I'm forced to file a report on your inability to carry out orders."

He eyed the transfer papers again. "Maybe I'll just call and verify—"

Without hesitating, Grace got right up into his face and adopted that cold, intimidating mien the Führer wore, when reprimanding an official. "Go ahead, make your call. Just don't be surprised when you find yourself flying supply runs to oil rigs in the arctic..." she squinted at him, "...for the remainder of your pitiful career."

"As you wish, Lieutenant Koehler." He slipped the phone back into his pocket. "But you shouldn't fault me for my caution."

"Get the aircraft ready."

They exited through the doors and Bayer double-timed ahead to join his co-pilot. Grace held her breath as both men climbed inside and began pushing buttons and examining the cockpit. In a matter of seconds, the long blades began to spin.