"In the Back Train Car" (Part 1)

Maximilian Goebbels boarded the train along with the five Gestapo officers under his command. "Search every car. Check everyone's papers. But, do not arouse any alarm. We don't want to frighten our quarry. We must find him before we reach Berlin. What would be a better gift for the Führer than presenting him with an enemy of the Reich in chains? I'll be in the back car if you find anything," he growled, adjusting his black officer's cap on top of his straw colored hair.

From the train window, a pair of Jewish eyes viewed the Gestapo officers boarding the train. Josef Goldberg shook his head. The agent whom he had been dodging for the past three days now sat in the very back seat, cutting off his escape route. The agent was supposed to rendezvous with the Gestapo while on the train. It was like a game of cat and mouse, except that this cat wasn't playing fair by enlisting the other alley cats in on the hunt. The game would be over by the time that they reached Berlin.

As his men dispersed to the other train cars, Maximilian entered the rear car. Cigarette smoke wafted up his nose and into his eyes as he calmly strode down the narrow aisle in his crisp black uniform and inspected the passengers. He met their stares of fear, disgust, and guilt with arrogant steel eyes. Not all healthy hard working Germans approved of the Gestapo. Even Party members sometimes squirmed in their presence.

As the train began to move, Maximilian glanced around for an empty seat. A hand grasped his arm. "My old friend, fancy seeing you in this car," said the owner of the hand, a well-dressed gentleman with a newspaper.

Maximilian jerked his head over to see the gentleman and after regarding a certain knowing look in his piercing blue eyes approached the seat opposite the gentleman.

"Johann, how are you? How's your family?" replied Maximilian as the gentleman tossed aside his newspaper and removed his briefcase from off of the opposite seat.

"Oh, we're all doing quite well. Margarite had a bout of the flu but is now quite well. How is your family?" the gentleman rambled as he placed his briefcase underneath his seat.

Maximilian situated his beefy frame in the creaky leather seat. "Come now," chortled Maximilian, "my old friend, you know that I would never retire from the bachelor's life."

The gentleman retrieved his newspaper. "I found a rather interesting piece in this morning's paper. Perhaps you should take a look."

Maximilian accepted the newspaper thrust in his face. He read the words scrawled by a fountain pen. Continue playing the part. He's in this car.

"Oh yes, this looks quite interesting. Do you mind if I read this now?"

"Of course not."

As Maximilian feigned reading the newspaper, he flicked glances at the gentleman. The gentleman gazed out the window in his expensive khaki trench coat, crisp navy blue suit, and brown dress shoes. A diamond tie tack worth a least several thousand reichsmarks graced his matching navy tie and a Party member's pin bearing the swastika adorned the lapel of his coat. Maximilian continued with his scrutiny. A khaki fedora perched atop the gentleman's dark slicked hair and cast a light shadow over his piercing eyes that flicked back and forth at the passing scenery. His fine featured and clean-shaven face gave no signs of distinguishing features or scars.

After a few minutes of silence except for the whir of the train and the drone of the other passengers' conversation, the gentleman began to mutter without diverting his attention from the window. "I see you sent your men to search the train. That was very foolish and unnecessary."

Maximilian smirked. "They don't know that he's been found or of our plan. Besides, they need something to do."

The gentleman sighed. "You're only here for backup just in case he attempts to escape, and you're to apprehend him when we reach Berlin, not before. I've been dogging Josef Goldberg's heels for months now and squeezing information out of his cohorts. I will not allow your men to shatter my work."

"That is impossible. Besides, Jews are subhuman. They have very small minds and are stupid creatures. Do not worry, my spy friend, he will not escape."

"If they are so slow and stupid, explain why we have spent over a year tracking Goldberg down? Explain why until a few days ago, we did not have a picture of him? No, my Gestapo friend, Jews are sneaky, sly, and smart."

"You make him sound like a legend."

The gentleman smiled. "He is a legend and a hero to the Jews and all other enemies of the Reich."

"He's a saboteur. He planted a bomb in the Gestapo headquarters, vandalized Party headquarters, sabotaged trains carrying Jews to the relocation camps, assisted in the escapes of several political criminals, and the list goes on. If he's not stopped, he could potentially create such an uprising that could overthrow the Reich and destroy all of the progress that the Führer and Germany have made."

Maximilian harrumphed. "I am well aware of all that."

"I forgot. You're the all knowing all wise Gestapo. My apologies."

Josef Goldberg stared down the aisle. If he could, somehow, slip out when the train reached Berlin, he could blend himself in with the crowds. Even if it meant being captured, things must go as planned. Somehow word must be sent to his contact. They must regroup.