Jörg. H. Trauboth - Three Brothers

“Why Afghanistan? Germany is committed to strictly staying out of Afghanistan, they weren’t allowed to do that.”

“Forget it, Henriette, this was before your time. Besides, since when are you interested in any rank below a general?”

He immediately regretted the question once he saw her face change ever so slightly, but undeniably, to disapproval. She abruptly sat up straight in the chair.

“I respect people who put their lives on the line to defend our country. Their status does not interest me. And you, Mr. Minister, will please make sure that the entire team, as well as the helicopter teams and the units supporting the mission, all get out of there unharmed!”

He is slightly taken aback by her so formal reaction, she sees this and strokes his arm lovingly and lays her head on his shoulder.

“Paul, I am scared that I am making a huge mistake and putting the lives of our men at risk. What is your honest opinion? Tell me, please.”

Paul stands up, lays her feet back onto the footrest and goes to the bookshelves.

“That is very simple, Henriette.”

He confidently pulls a book from the shelf, opens it, glances at her mischievously and reads:

“Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book Four, No. 18, Translated by George Long: How much trouble he avoids who does not look to see what his neighbor says or does or thinks, but only to what he does himself, that it may be just and pure…”

Henriette winks at him, stands up and takes the empty pot to the kitchen for more rum raisins. Very well said, Marcus Aurelius, she thinks as she refills the little pot, the familiar, sweet scent filling the air. But how strong does one have to be in order to ignore what others say? The party is confident that I can withstand the loneliness of running this country, but it’s hard tonight. Damn hard. I cannot share this decision, not even with Paul. It is my decision alone and with all of its consequences. At best, both hostages will live. At worst, we will have two dead hostages plus a lot of dead soldiers…

Paul is smiling as she returns and tops her ice cream with a second helping of rum raisins, seemingly relaxed. But he senses her insecurities, maybe even her fear of the consequences of her decision. He questions whether he should think of a way to relieve her of that fear. No, he counters his own thought, as long as she doesn’t say anything, it makes no sense to mollify her concerns. She always works though things in her own way, by herself. She longs for closeness, but then barricades herself inside this closeness. She will manage, with logic and listening to her gut. Henriette Behrens is unbeatable in extreme situations.

She gives him a peck in the cheek as she takes her empty ice cream bowl to the kitchen.

“Did you know, that Marcus Aurelius barely had any chance to write because he was constantly at war with the Barbarians? The Barbarians that were at least as bad as this self-proclaimed Islamic State is today,” she says.

“That is correct, but not only did he conceive fourteen children right there on the battlefield with his wife, Faustina, he was also able to keep calm and serene in the midst of all the chaos of his governmental dealings.”

She returns. He is now sitting on one of the cushions in front of the fireplace.

“Fourteen?”

“Yes, you heard me correctly.”

“Maintaining my serenity is the least of my troubles, as long as you stand by me in my governmental affairs, but for the other, it’s much too late.”

He laughs out loud again. “For the fourteen children or for the battlefield?”

“Don’t you dare, Paul! We have an agreement.”

Paul looks at her the way he did back then in her office with his one eyebrow raised. She decides she never wants to repeat this moment again, especially as the rum is just taking effect.

“I have a request for you. Would you please let me know in due time if I am starting to take the wrong path with this Operation Eagle?”

“I can’t see that, Henriette, you did such a fantastic job today, and anyway, there is still plenty of time until the order goes into action to identify and correct any possible mistakes. In the meantime, I will take care of you, just like I am taking care of Operation Eagle.”

She nods, slips into her blue and white pumps and straightens her suit.

“How do I look?”

“As perfect as always, James.”

She takes his face in her hands and gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Sorry, Paul, I have to first be free of this matter.”

Before he can wrap his arms around her, she already has her phone out and is directing her bodyguards to bring the car forward.

Paul accompanies her to the front door, trying to mask his disappointment. He had tried to act so relaxed this evening and hide the fact that he was as nervous as he was on their first date. They were so close to landing in bed together again, finally, like it used to be, exciting and a welcome distraction.

What the hell went wrong? It couldn’t have been the WEFI file alone! What did she really feel for him? Is she even able to commit to a relationship? This beautiful Henriette was and is a sort of “touch and go” case. The slightest display of affection and she’s gone again. Perhaps her behavior has less to do with her office and more to do with her lack of ability to form more intimate relationships. In reality, at forty-nine years old, she is a long-confirmed single. If I am honest about it, I know her better at work than in private. Who is Henriette Behrens? Why can’t I get her out of my head? What makes her so sexy and exciting to me? Is it her position of power that turns me on? How would I feel if she were not the Chancellor of Germany? No, her job doesn’t matter. She could just as easily be a librarian in Trastevere in Rome. But what about her feelings? Are you sure you are not completely kidding yourself, Paul Voss?

The taillights of the Audi A8 disappear. He would so much like to know what Henriette is thinking right now. It doesn’t matter. After Operation Eagle successfully ends, Christmas will bring new opportunities. And a new, completely stress-free Henriette. Or so he believes.

“Eagle commando, ATTENTION! Report to the commander, left face!”

“General, operation commando force Eagle is reporting for duty.”

“Thank you, Captain Anderson.”

Brigadier General Wolf is still feeling the effects of yesterday’s meeting in the Foreign Office. He purposely chose Hammelburg for the preparations. It is the perfect location.

They are sitting in the briefing room. Wolf observes the faces of his troop. Not one of them is over thirty years old. Each of them has been through the hells of the two-year-long training and brought to the brink of their physical and mental abilities. Just when they thought they were finished, they were then subject to interrogation training. Whoever could not manage to endure the days-long torture of bright lights, loud rock music, the freezing cold, buckets of ice water being poured over their heads, and the screams of the interrogation officers, were supposed to say a code word. Three times in a row, then he was out. And a lot of them were out.

The commander purposely speaks softly and without drama, as is his style, the way they all know him.

“You are here because you belong to the best of the best. Your mission is to free two German hostages, Helmut Weier and Josef Fischer, in Northern Iraq. We are familiar with the building they are being kept in and the surveillance. Including the approach and departure, you will be engaged for four hours.