8

"Dr. Caelie Spillane," he drawls, looking pretty pleased with himself. "You've been a hard woman to catch, and a persistent annoyance to us. But all your hard work is for nothing. You're ours now."

"If I'm so annoying, why not just kill me?" you ask.

His eyes narrow. "I've had the same thought myself. However, in consultation with Herr Paulus here, I have decided that we may still have a use for you."

Your heart sinks at the name and at the realization that you know the other person in the room. Scarecrow-thin, freakishly tall, and always meticulously groomed in all respects except for his wild, untamable straw-colored hair, Herr Paulus is a self-proclaimed scholar, humanitarian, and civilized man. He is also one of the Gestapo's most feared and cruel operatives, a figure of terror across Europe and beyond. And this nightmare scarecrow now paces slowly toward you, shrugs his long leather coat off and drapes it across the back of the chair opposite, and then sits down with great delicacy.

Paulus runs his hands through his unruly mop and peers up at Schneider.

"Thank you for your assistance, Herr Obersturmführer," he intones, precise in his pronunciation like a fussy old professor. "You may leave us now. The good doctor is going to tell me some stories."

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