18:56 (Berlin time)
Monday, June 23, 1941 ‘B’
Gestapo interrogation centre
Berlin, Germany
Nancy woke up in what looked to her like the masonry basement of a building. She was suspended spread-eagled from the ceiling by chains, with more chains tied to the floor and forcing open her legs. All her clothes had been removed. Looking around her, she saw with increasing dread a number of torture instruments that filled the room, including a brazier with branding irons plunged in the red-hot coals. She had to close her eyes and concentrate in order to prevent panic from overtaking her. Her spirit had lived through such tortures fourteen centuries ago, when her persona of Yasmin, a young Persian slave girl, had been horribly tortured before being beheaded for trying to flee the harem where she had been held. Looking again around more carefully, she then noticed a movie camera mounted on a tripod and sitting in one corner, with extra rolls of films ready on a small table nearby. Cold sweat appeared on her forehead as she understood the implications of this: someone was intent on making an example out of her, whether she answered questions or not.
The noise of heavy bolt locks being pulled made her turn her head to the right, in time to see two men enter via a heavy wooden door. One of them was dressed in a civilian suit and looked like a doctor or a lawyer. The other one was a huge brute in a SS uniform. His function was immediately too obvious to Nancy. The civilian smiled when he saw that she was awake and stood in front of her, examining her at length with professional interest.
“So, I meet at last the famous She-Wolf herself. You have quite an enviable reputation, Brigadier Laplante. However, are you up to it? It seems to me that it is a lot for a simple woman to achieve all those things you are credited with.”
“Just try me!” Replied Nancy, who realized too late that the man had played on her feminist ego.
“Oh, I will! Now, I don’t have much time to waste and I’m sure that you want out of here as soon as possible, so why don’t you make it simple and just answer a few questions?”
Nancy took a deep breath, then spoke with the steadiest voice she could muster.
“Nancy Crawford-Laplante, Brigadier, number N75 834 504, born June 13, 1982.”
The civilian shook his head as if she was a student who did not grasp a particular lesson.
“Brigadier, I am sure that you read in some history books about the interrogation methods of the Gestapo. However, reading about them and experiencing them are two totally different things.”
The man then went to the camera and switched on a powerful lamp mounted on it, then carefully pointed the camera on Nancy and adjusted the focus. He started the camera before returning in front of Nancy.
“We will now review the different techniques we may use on you while my friend Karl actually practices them on you. Should I go on or are you ready to be more cooperative?”
“Nancy Crawford-Laplante, Brigadier, number N75 834 504, born June 13, 1982.”
“As you wish! We will go gradually, from the most benign method to the most painful one. First is of course this old, time-honored instrument: the whip.”
On cue, the big SS man, who had grabbed a long bullwhip, savagely lashed Nancy’s chest with four vigorous strokes. The first one made her scream in pain but she was able, barely, to keep her mouth shut during the three other strokes. The civilian nodded in appreciation.
“Next is another old method: the pulling of nails.”
Nancy clenched her teeth and closed her eyes as the SS man knelt besides her right foot and approached a pair of pliers to her small toe. Karl took his time, slowly pulling the nail out with occasional side twists, sending waves after waves of searing pain through Nancy’s brain. Still, she did not scream. By the time Karl held up the nail, Nancy was quietly sobbing.
“Next, Colonel, is a decidedly more modern method: electric shocks. The electrodes are of course applied to the most sensitive parts of the body. I am sure that you know what the most sensitive parts of a woman’s body are.”
She could not help scream in agony when Karl applied a pair of electrodes to her genitals.
“Please note that this was only the half-power setting. Finally, we will try an old but very effective instrument: the branding iron.”
Nancy shook with fear as Karl approached, holding up a red-hot iron. He applied it to her belly, rolling it on her skin and making her scream horribly. He finally took off the iron and put it back in the brazier. The civilian got close to Nancy, who was now crying.
“Guess what, Colonel: this little demonstration took only five minutes. I have been able to make some of my past customers survive through over a week of this treatment. Do you really want to go through this?”
Nancy thought desperately about her options as she cried out her pain. This was worse than anything she had imagined, yet she could not let this sadistic coward break her: a lot of lives could be lost if she talked. Her voice broken by sobs, she looked directly at her interrogator.
“Nancy Crawford-Laplante, Brigadier, number N75 834 504, born June 13 1982.”
The civilian stepped back, genuine respect on his face.
“You do honor to your reputation, miss: many strong men do not resist past this stage. Karl, work her up thoroughly on both sides with the whip.”
22:46 (Berlin Time)
Wednesday, June 25, 1941 ‘B’
Gestapo interrogation centre, Berlin
“What new weapons have you introduced to the British, Brigadier?”
Nancy, strapped to a massive steel chair, her naked body covered with burns, bruises and wounds from two days of continuous tortures, could only shake slowly her head, her voice nearly extinct from all the screaming. The civilian patiently stepped back.
“Karl, smash her left big toe.”
Nancy screamed for long seconds when Karl swung down his five-pound hammer and smashed her big toe, which already missed its toenail.
“So, miss, are we talking yet?”
Nancy kept shaking her head while crying.
“Karl, use the irons again.”
The SS man looked with near pity at Nancy: he normally didn’t enjoy doing this job, even if he was efficient at it. This time, he was close to hating himself for what he had done to this incredibly brave woman. Going to the brazier, he took a long, thin iron rod and approached Nancy again but hesitated at the last moment, infuriating his superior.
“What are you waiting for?” Exploded the civilian. “Do it!”
Karl then reluctantly applied the iron rod to her body. Nancy screamed for long seconds, then passed out. Karl looked at her limp body, then at the interrogator.
“Sir, this is the fifth time that she passes out today. Shouldn’t we stop until tomorrow morning?”
“You’re right. No point in killing her so soon. Throw her in a cell and go to bed. We will start again at eight O’clock.”
“Yes sir!”
The interrogator then left quickly after switching the camera off, leaving Karl alone with Nancy. Karl undid the straps tying her to the steel torture chair, then took her limp body in his strong arms. He looked at her mutilated body and at her face, swollen, bruised and with one eye shut by multiple blows. Shaking his head, he carried her out of the interrogation room and down a narrow corridor leading to the cellblock. The Waffen-SS NCO in charge of the night shift there looked in revulsion at the torture marks covering Nancy’s body.
“And you are proud to do this kind of work? Did she talk, at the least?”
Karl gave the NCO a mean look: the man, along with other SS guards, had been quick enough to gang-rape Nancy in her cell the previous night, ignoring her screams of pain as they fondled her bruised body.
“She didn’t say a word.”
“Alright, put her in cell number four.”
“Could we give her a blanket or two for the night?”
The SS NCO thought for an instant, then nodded his head and went to get blankets while Karl entered cell number four with Nancy still in his arms. The cell was a tiny, bare room with concrete walls and floor and no furniture save a sanitary bucket. Karl laid Nancy down as soon as the guard came back and put a wool blanket on the hard floor, then covered her with a second blanket. He left the cell feeling a bit less awful about himself.
02:58 (Berlin Time)
Thursday, June 26, 1941 ‘B’
Cell number four, Gestapo interrogation center
Berlin, Germany
Farah Tolkonen appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of the small cell, a wave front of compressed air expelled from the volume she was now occupying being the only side effect of her apparition. Nancy was plainly visible in the crude light provided by the ceiling-mounted light bulb, which was on at all times. The Canadian was rolled in a tight ball in a corner, covered with a gray blanket. Her body shook continuously and she was also alternatively moaning and sobbing. Farah felt immense pity for her: she had never seen someone suffer so much, alone and at the mercy of sadistic monsters. Putting down the medical kit she had brought besides Nancy, Farah then knelt and gently put a hand on her shoulder to wake her up. Nancy’s reaction both surprised and frightened Farah. Awaking with a startle, she yelled with despair in her voice.
“NOOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Nancy froze in surprise as she stared at the 220 centimeter-tall bald woman with smooth Eurasian features kneeling besides her. The giant’s eyes were golden yellow and she had six fingers per hand, while her skin was of very light brown color. She wore a kind of jumpsuit made of a shiny fabric whose color changed continuously from burgundy red to royal blue depending on the angle one looked at it. A wide belt at the stranger’s waist supported a number of equipment pouches and she wore what looked like a large watch on her left wrist.
“Thank god! Someone finally came for me. Take me out of here, please.”
“I will, Nancy. I…”
They were still facing each other when the cell’s door was slammed open and two guards rushed inside, submachine guns pointed at Farah.
“PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD, NOW!”
Having assimilated German, along with other ancient languages, by direct mental transfer before leaving on her mission of mercy, Farah complied immediately, totally terrified. That was when Farah’s pacifist upbringing and education, typical of a civilization that had known no wars for over five centuries, played against her. She froze, not knowing how to react when faced with a threat of violence. Both guards stared at her with bulging eyes for a moment.
“Who are you?” Shouted one of the guards. Farah was nearly sobbing from fear now.
“I… I’m Farah Tolkonen, from the year 3384.”
The German then noticed the six fingers on each of Farah’s hands. Near panic, he raised his weapon and put the muzzle of his submachine gun against her bald head.
“You move or try to touch any of your equipment and I blow your head off. Hans, get some reinforcements here, quickly!”
Farah then started crying, completely terrorized. Nancy then tried to plea with the guard.
“Don’t you see that she’s harmless? Please don’t hurt her.”
The guard’s answer was to kick her in the stomach, sending her to the floor, doubled up in pain. The cell soon filled up with SS guards who roughly picked up both Farah and Nancy and dragged them out. One guard also picked up Farah’s medical kit and followed the group towards the interrogation room. Nancy sobbed in desperation when she recognized the room.
“Nooo! Please spare her this!”
The guards didn’t reply as they strapped Nancy on a horizontal X-framed torture rack. Farah was then stripped of her equipment and told to take off all her clothes. She complied while crying with despair: she knew what was awaiting her, as her probes had shown her what had happened to Nancy in this awful room. She was next suspended from the ceiling spread-eagled by chains. However, contrary to Nancy, her feet still touched the floor, so tall she was. Except for two men, the guards then left the interrogation room.
After a couple of minutes, Nancy risked some words in English.
“Farah, whatever they do, please don’t give them your time machine: it would doom our whole history.”
“I know! I will try my best.” Answered hesitantly the scientist. One guard shouted at them.
“DO NOT SPEAK!”
Not wanting to attract blows to the giant, Nancy shut up, thinking furiously about how to handle this new situation. The giant woman, while seemingly ready to risk her life to save her, was obviously useless in any fight and looked totally helpless when faced with violence. On her part, Farah tried to think of a way out of her predicament. Her time ship, cloaked from normal human vision, could be recalled by a simple mental command from her, relayed via the tiny implant in her brain. However, this did not free her or the unfortunate Nancy Laplante from this awful room full of barbaric instruments. Glancing at Nancy’s mutilated body, Farah wondered how anybody could resist so much pain. She had no illusions about her own pain tolerance threshold: it was next to nil. On the other hand, Nancy was right about the consequences of giving away her time ship to those Germans. She had thoroughly studied this time period in order to prepare for her quest and understood what such a monstrous political entity as the Nazi Party could do to humanity if in control of a time ship. Not only this alternate timeline was at risk: her own timeline would be shred to pieces by the repeated distortions caused by multiple manipulations of history. Her dilemma was that, while she understood the implications of giving in under torture, she doubted that she was able to put up any significant resistance. Nancy Laplante, who was looking at her, seemed to read her mind.
“Farah, if you put in your mind that you can do it, you will do it.”
She barely had time to finish speaking before an enraged guard slammed the butt of his weapon on her swollen and bruised right breast, making Nancy scream hideously.
“I said do not speak!”
“BARBARIAN!” Yelled Farah, surprising herself with her own audacity. A vicious look on his face, the guard approached her and examined her, then passed his left hand on her large, firm breasts, fondling them for a few seconds.
“You have a nice body, whatever you are. You better behave or you will soon look like your friend.”
The German then viciously twisted her nipple and pulled her breast, making Farah cry out with pain. The guard then stepped back and waited. The interrogator, followed by Karl, soon came in the room. He had obviously been awaken in a hurry and seemed in a foul mood. Stopping two paces in front of Farah, he carefully examined her, noting the six fingers per hand and even examining her vagina to check for any differences with normal women. He then turned towards the senior guard.
“What do we know about her?”
“She was found inside Laplante’s cell, with no obvious way for her to get in unnoticed. She said that her name is Farah Tolkonen and that she is from the year 3384. Her equipment and clothes are on the table, near Laplante’s clothes.”
The interrogator went to the table and sifted through Farah’s equipment. What he saw there was so advanced and alien that he couldn’t even tell if there were weapons in the lot. He then approached Farah, his face impassive.
“Miss, you will tell me who you are and why you came here.”
“I… I am Doctor Farah Tolkonen, from the year 3384. I came to rescue Nancy Laplante and return her to her proper time period, where she belongs, before she can cause irreparable damage to the space-time continuum.”
“How did you get in her cell without being noticed?”
“By time shift.”
Seeing that he didn’t understand that, she elaborated.
“I came in the cell while in a phase of time out of synchronization with this present time. Think of it as being like a temporal ghost.”
“Hmm, a most useful trick indeed.”
He then pointed at her equipment on the table.
“Describe to me the function of each of these items.”
“Well, from left to right, you have first a medical kit, a tool kit to open locks if need be, a multi-spectral detector, a communicator and my watch.”
“Where are your weapons?”
“I don’t have any weapons.”
That angered the interrogator, who came closer to her.
“Do you take me for a fool? You expect me to believe that you came back over 1400 years to deliver somebody from a guarded facility during a war, without bringing any weapons? Karl, give her a taste of the whip.”
“Wait!” Yelled Farah, near panic. “I didn’t bring weapons because there are none in the 34th century: all weapons were banned over 400 years before my time. We have not known wars for five centuries.”
He looked at her, thinking for a moment.
“It may be so. We will come back to that later. Now, who else came with you on that mission?”
Farah lowered her head in embarrassment.
“Nobody! Everyone I asked refused to come: they thought it was too dangerous to go, so I had to come alone.”
“Couldn’t you order them to go?” Asked the interrogator in total disbelief.
“No! In my society, which is totally non-violent, individuals cannot be forced to do anything against their will that could endanger their mental or physical well being.”
Nancy, who was listening carefully to all of this, had to rethink her opinion of the scientist: Farah may be useless when faced with violence, but she was no coward. The interrogator shook his head in disgust.
“What a bunch of weaklings.”
The Gestapo man then stared at Farah, his eyes focusing behind his round spectacles.
“Where is your time machine?”
Farah hesitated, biting her lower lip.
“It has gone back to my own time. I pre-programmed it to jump back to the future if I didn’t return to it within thirty minutes.”
The interrogator smiled in a way that Farah didn’t like.
“Doctor Tolkonen, have a good look at your friend.”
Farah did so, examining with growing sadness the countless bruises, cuts and burns covering Nancy’s body. Even in her own time, it would take the full facilities of a hospital for Farah to bring Nancy back to full health. Here, even with her medical kit, the Canadian would probably be left with long-term sequels and may even be crippled for life. There was still a look of determination in those green eyes, though. Farah spoke to her in French.
“I will not tell them, Nancy.”
“I believe you. Be strong, Farah.”
A vicious lash of the bullwhip struck Farah’s back, making her yell in pain. The interrogator was now furious.
“Miss, you either tell me now where is your time machine or you will soon look like your friend.”
She contained a spasm of fear before answering, resigned to whatever was coming: the whole of history was at stake.
“I told you: it has gone back to the future.”
“Karl, the whip!”
04:02 (Berlin Time)
Gestapo interrogation center
Admiral Canaris got out of his car and, surrounded by armed Abwehr agents, entered the Wilhelmstrasse Gestapo interrogation center. A company of Luftwaffe troops had already surrounded and seized the building, disarming the few Waffen-SS guards on the ground level and upper floors. That left only the basement floors, where the cells and interrogation rooms where. Canaris walked to the senior Gestapo official, closely guarded by two Luftwaffe soldiers, and handed him a paper.
“This is a warrant signed by the Fuhrer himself, ordering the release into my custody of Brigadier Laplante, wherever she is to be found. You either cooperate now or you will be shot for disobeying a Fuhrer’s direct order.”
The Gestapo man paled and nodded his head.
“She is downstairs, in the second basement. I assure you that I was just following ord…”
“I will listen to your garbage later. Now, you will come with me and order the guards in the basement to surrender immediately. If I find Colonel Laplante dead, you will be all executed on the spot. Am I clear?”
“Er, yes Admiral!”
“Then lead on!”
The Gestapo official quickly got the rest of the Waffen-SS guards to surrender without resistance, then guided Canaris and the Abwehr agents to a thick, reinforced wooden door. As they got to the door, a blood-curling scream froze them momentarily in place. One of the agents looked at Canaris, apprehension on his face.
“It was a woman’s scream, sir.”
“RUSH THAT PLACE!”
Six Abwehr agents slammed the door open and rushed in, closely followed by Canaris. Two bursts of fire rang out as the old admiral stumbled on an horribly mutilated woman tied to a horizontal X-frame rack. He recognized her despite her swollen, badly beaten face: it was Laplante. Walking quickly to her, he delicately turned her head so that she could see him.
“Brigadier Laplante, I am Admiral Canaris, chief of the Abwehr. We are getting you out of here.”
Laplante, who had been crying when they entered, implored him with her sole eye not swollen shut.
“Help my friend, please!”
Surprised by her request, Canaris looked around the room and stepped back at seeing a giant of a bald woman, suspended naked from the ceiling, unconscious. Lying on the floor in large pools of blood were a man in civilian clothes and a big SS guard. Moving closer to the giant, Canaris saw that two electrodes were clamped to her nipples and that her torso was covered with whip marks.
“Lower her to the ground and untie her, quickly! You two, free Brigadier Laplante and call an ambulance!”
Looking around the room, Canaris saw a table with a number of objects and a box on it, plus a camera mounted on a tripod. There was a stack of film rolls near the camera, some used, some still sealed in their boxes. He pointed the camera and the objects to three of his agents.
“Make sure to grab all these films and the things on the table. We are taking them back with us.”
“Sir!” Called an agent holding Laplante’s head. “Brigadier Laplante wants to speak with you.”
Canaris was at her side in seconds. Laplante’s voice was hoarse, barely audible.
“My friend’s name is Farah Tolkonen. She is from the year 3384 and tried to free me. There is an advanced medical kit as part of her equipment: bring it with us.”
“Relax, Brigadier, we will take good care of you and your friend. An ambulance will bring you to an hospital soon.”
Gently putting her head down, Canaris looked at his senior agent.
“Rudolph, make sure that the items on the table accompany those two women to the hospital. If the giant one asks for her medical kit, let her have it. The films will go to our headquarters for immediate development. Also, get some blankets to cover their nudity.”
“Yes sir!”
The ambulance showed up ten minutes later. Canaris got in it along with the two women and their effects, plus two armed agents. Two trucks full of Luftwaffe troops followed as additional escort. The convoy took only a few minutes to arrive at a hospital reserved for Luftwaffe aircrews, near Tempelhof Airport. Canaris met with the chief-surgeon in the reception hall, as Laplante and Tolkonen were being brought in. The doctor’s eyes opened wide when he saw Farah, her lower legs sticking out of the stretcher bearing her. Canaris waited until both women were admitted and started receiving medical care before collaring the Luftwaffe doctor.
“Herr Colonel, as far as those two women are concerned, you saw nothing, you heard nothing and you will say nothing!