Fox Wilde - Variant Exchange - A Punk Rock Spy Fiction Novel

His genuine belief and obvious sincerity had a profound effect on her. As the days wore on, she felt several changes taking place inside of herself. She began to feel more comfortable talking openly about her former life, and legitimately regretted some of her mistakes. Why, oh, why had she decided to write those lyrics?! At best, it was stupid and dangerous for her. At worst, it was legitimately stupid and dangerous for her family and friends. They didn’t deserve to be led astray by her and her stupid opinions. She was a child after all. No, not a worthless thing to be seen and not heard, as the Lieutenant had put it… just uninformed and lacking in grand perspective.

Lena was led back down the hallway past several cells and rooms for yet another interrogation, a few days later. All of them were reasonably pleasant, given her former circumstances. After a long walk between two female guards who seemed rather impatient with Lena’s shackled shuffle (staircases were the worst), she was led into the room she had grown quite familiar with—the white wall, the big open windows, the small desk and the radio. Something was different this time, however. Instead of just her Grandfather waiting there for her, a tall man also stood in the corner. He was over six feet tall, ruddily handsome with vaguely mixed-German features, and had an immaculately pressed uniform. His uniform was different than the rest of the Stasi. It seemed… well, larger somehow. It was almost as if it was designed twenty-years too early with cheaper cuts and off-putting browns and yellows. It was also covered with an abundance of large medals and honors to his importance for all the world to see. He did have a certain air of importance about him, surely, and he stood in the corner as if bored with the world—a sort of impatience with life itself, and nowhere to relieve that impatience.

“Young Lena,” Grandfather began softly, “why don’t you take a seat. We have much to discuss, and precious little time to do it.”

Awkwardly, Lena started towards her seat in front of the desk and sat down, shuffling her hands. The air in the room felt different. An uncomfortable tension and sense of urgency filled it, although Grandfather didn’t seem of a particular mind to change that just yet. Certainly not with the important-looking man standing in the corner.

“Lena, I’m going to be honest with you.” Grandfather began. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, but I’m getting pressure from The Top, you understand. Until this point, we’ve done things pretty off-the-cuff and informal. Not just to make you more comfortable, but because I’ve needed the break!” He added this last part with a laugh, and Lena nervously laughed as well. The important man standing in the corner simply rolled his eyes.

“It’s time we get down to business, Lena.” Grandfather continued, “ I know who you are, and you know who you are. We both know you are a good person who truly means no harm. Unfortunately for the both of us, that’s simply not good enough. In the eyes of the State—who’s rules I am bound to enforce—you are still a criminal.”

Lena’s heart skipped a beat.

“I know, I know…” he consoled her, “it feels like we are past that point. Maybe that’s my fault. I certainly haven’t brought it up. Not directly, at any rate. I had hoped that… well, by now, you would have reached a point where we could simply put all of that behind us.”

Lena stared as he continued with an increasingly somber tone, “But the truth is this: in the eyes of the State you have committed the crimes of sedition, treason, and various other high-level misdeeds. I have tried to explain to the men at The Top that you were merely young and ill-informed, and that our time together has reformed you into a new person.”

“It has!” Lena interrupted as a bright red heat flushed across her face. “Truly it has!”

“I know you think that, Lena,” he replied, “But in my world, with men like the Colonel standing behind me, you haven’t. Not for crimes as serious as yours.”

The important man standing in the corner gave Lena a look—it was bored, yet knowing. Grandfather had many different and conflicting emotions written on his face, however—the most prominent of which almost appeared to be pleading. Without saying it, Lena could see the depth of concern he bore. He cared for her and genuinely wanted to help her escape whatever fate was coming her way. Didn’t he?

“I’m so sorry, Grandfather,” Lena apologized, meaning every word. “What can I do to help?”

“Grandfather?” the colonel noted, again rolling his eyes. Lena instantly felt embarrassed. When he spoke, however, Lena noticed that he had a slightly different accent than Grandfather. She couldn’t quite place it, though.

“It’s a permission given, Colonel,” Lena’s ‘Grandfather’ responded, “not a liberty taken.”

“Suit yourself,” the colonel responded, unamused, before turning to Lena. “Unfortunately, you have taken too long. We only have a certain amount of resources we can allocate per case, and we exceeded yours months ago. We had charged your ‘Grandfather’ here to see if we could find use for you. So far, he has performed less than adequately.

“There will be a trial, of course. You will have a lawyer and will be allowed to plead your case, but after wasting so many resources on you, I’m afraid they aren’t likely to be lenient. The absolute minimum sentence for any one of these infractions is…”

“B-but… but…” Lena stammered, the shock written plainly on her face.

“Unfortunately, there are no ‘buts’ to be had,” he interrupted. “Your crimes are too serious, and you’ve been too expensive. Your ‘Grandfather’ here moved you into a two-person cell; spent State money on better food and reading materials; wasted precious time that should have been spent on interrogations rather than consorting. Perhaps the blame is better placed at his feet for your recalcitrance, but the result must still remain the same.”

“Gra-grandfather!” Lena began, feeling terribly guilty, “I’m so sorry! I was listening the whole time! I am a changed person, I swear it!”

“The time for apologies is past,” the colonel spoke, unmoved. “He will be punished for his failure, and you will be processed into the system.”

“B-but… but… please!” was all that Lena could manage, as the tears began streaming down her face.

“He will be relieved of his duties and placed on house arrest. Lena, you will be remanded to your former cell,” the colonel continued, apathy written across his increasingly dour face. “Since there’s no hope in changing you, I see no reason for interrogations to continue with your former interrogator, but we simply can’t waste a two-person cell and good blankets on a lost case.” Looking up and motioning at the door, he added, “Guards, please see to her processing.” With this, two male guards entered the room and stood by the door—one with the dreaded bag in his hand.

“No! Please don’t! I’ll do anything, sir!” Lena begged, as she fell to her knees in the purest display of contrition she could manage. She didn’t know which could possibly be worse: the black cell or disappointing her precious Grandfather. “Anything, Sir! Anything… I will do anything! I swear it on my life!”

“I’ve seen enough. Guards, please remove her to the black cells.”

“God no!” Lena shouted, as she crawled on her knees to Grandfather. She wrapped her arms around his legs tightly and cried into his knees as she screamed, “No! Please… I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”