Cross Conviction

Max stood illuminated by a street lamp on the side of a dark Berlin street. It was 23:00 and few cars remained on the road. For most of the day, he had wandered the halls of the infirmary wing, nervously fidgeting and checking in for updates on his friend. He was concerned for Sturm's health, of course. However, Max had also fallen under the spell of guilt, believing himself at least partially responsible for his teammate's sudden cardiac arrest.

After a few hours, Captain Scharf became fed up with the boy's behavior and ordered him to collect information on the Third Hunter Team's next target; the provisionally-dubbed "Firebomb Rogue". The logistics of actually gathering any useful lead on a generic city street corner one hour to midnight were questionable, to say the least. Despite the unlikelihood of any direct confrontation, Gustavo was deployed alongside Max for peace of mind. In accordance with the new academy policy after the murder of Ida Weber, Magnolia was prohibited from the late-night mission, since Scharf himself was not present.

Instead, the girl had been made to stay with Sturm in the infirmary and notify the captain when her teammate had awoken. Though she usually desired to distinguish herself on assignments, this time around Magnolia was more than happy to stay behind. In fact, she appeared outright relieved to have been spared this task.

Behind Max, Gustavo stepped out of a blackened alleyway and into the light. He then knelt next to a storm drain and collected one of his frogs as it emerged from the grating.

"So?" Max inquired.

Gustavo shook his head in the negative.

Annoyed, Max crossed his arms behind his neck and stretched. "Damn it..." he groaned, "What the hell are we doing, anyway?!" he complained, kicking the toe of his boot against the ground, "We're not gonna find anything like this! We're wasting our time!"

"It's almost midnight, quit being so loud," said Gustavo.

"Well excuse me if I'm a little stressed out, man!" Max snapped back aggressively.

After an awkward pause, Gustavo replied, "You're excused."

Jaw tensing, Max slowly turned to his teammate, hand on his head. "Look, I'm just really stressed out, okay?"

"We all are," answered Gustavo, "but there's only so much we can do. Sturm's in good hands and we're not helping by hovering around the infirmary."

Max sighed and looked back across the dark street. He knew Gustavo was correct, but it didn't change how he felt. Standing here with the indistinct aim of "gathering information" was almost as bad as lying around doing nothing at all. Again, the thought crossed Max's mind that he might be responsible for Sturm's condition. This time, however, before he could fall into self-pity, a figure caught his eye on the opposite side of the road. There, under the red light of a neon storefront sign, was a tall, black-uniformed SS officer. The unknown man was staring directly at Max. All the more disconcerting, he appeared to be grinning.

"Hey..." started Max, careful not to take his eyes off the officer, "What's that guy's deal?"

Gustavo looked up, observing the man. "No idea."

The SS officer remained still and unblinking, the smile never leaving his face. After collecting another small, orange frog from the storm drain, Gustavo stood up and held the amphibian close to his ear. The frog's throat vibrated quickly, letting out a barely audible, bubbling call.

A serious look came over Gustavo's face in response to whatever the animal had relayed to him. "Max..." he started, "We should leave."

"What do you mean?" inquired Max, turning to face his teammate.

To his terror, Max found himself looking not at Gustavo, but directly into two icy grey eyes- the eyes of the officer who had been across the road just seconds earlier. Out of shock, Max immediately swung his right arm upward as an ossified claw tore from his cuff. Stopping just short of the man's throat, the boy threatened to sever his jugular. Simultaneously, Gustavo drew his P08 and held the officer at gunpoint from behind.

"Bastard!" cried Max frantically, "Get back!"

The man didn't flinch. Making a point to disobey Max's command, he leaned in closer. "Is that how you address your superiors?" he chuckled.

"You're lucky I'm not addressing your decapitated head, asshole!" Max ranted on. "Now get back!"

Instead of complying, the man took another step, allowing Max's blade to press into his throat. "Or what?" he inquired, the grim smile on his face ever-present.

"Or I'll put you down," Gustavo spoke up from behind.

The officer let out a laugh and backed far enough away from Max that the boy could make out the rank on his collar- senior assault leader. The man then turned and, without warning, lunged at Gustavo, who instinctively pulled the trigger. No round was fired. Instead, there was only the bone-chilling click indicative of a malfunction.

The firearm was jammed.

"Come on," the SS officer taunted, leaning forward and planting the barrel firmly against his forehead, "Go for it, pissant."

Gustavo was quick to oblige. He pulled back on his weapon's bolt, clearing the jam, and pulled the trigger once more. Again, nothing. In disbelief, Gustavo reached into his pocket, prepared to resort to his deadly poisonous frogs.

Frantically, Max sprang forth with both wrist blades forward. Easily side-stepping the surprise assault, the man laughed aloud. "Relax, you freaks."

Claws at the ready, Max took his combat stance. "You should know better than to interfere with Iron Knight business, psychopath!"

"There are no exceptionals in the SS," added Gustavo. "Identify yourself!"

The officer shrugged. "Senior assault leader Reinhardt Käfer," he answered nonchalantly, "I'm hunting some fuckworm serial killer."

Max and Gustavo exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise.

"So now the SS is doing something?" asked Max, annoyed, but dropping his guard.

Immediately, Käfer closed the short distance to Max and was in his face once more. "Please," he started, "I make your gang of misfits look like a bunch of legless orphans. When I'm on the hunt, my prey dies, simple as that."

Raising his claws once more, Max's face flushed blue with anger. "Keep talking like that and kick your teeth in!"

"Whenever you're ready to try," Käfer challenged with a suppressed laugh.

"Hey..." Gustavo spoke up once more, "I know you heard me the first time. There are no exceptionals in the SS."

The boy was speaking the truth. In line with military policy, Iron Knight candidates were forbidden from holding any political affiliation. While the Nazis had initially attempted to raise a legion of exceptionals loyal to their cause, the group was disbanded to ease tensions between their party and the armed forces. Since then, exceptionals were forbidden from enrolling in the SS, just as members of the Nazi Party were banned from enrolling in the academy.

Käfer grinned smugly. "Who says I'm an exceptional?"

"Is this a joke to you?!" exclaimed Max, angrily.

"No," Käfer retorted, "but your academy is."

Max scoffed. "You talk a lot of shit for a dumbass caught between two knight candidates. What are you really here for? Another coverup job?"

"Max!" snapped Gustavo, urgently hushing his teammate.

Chuckling at the notion, Käfer crossed his arms. "I told you already, I'm hunting the killer picking off your stupid little friends."

"Yeah, well that's our assignment!" cried Max.

"Then just be happy someone better is taking over, you weasel," replied Käfer.

Max clenched his fists. "How about-"

Gustavo quickly cut his teammate off before he could continue arguing. "Who assigned you to this investigation, senior assault leader?"

"Who assigned me?" Käfer repeated rhetorically, walking past the boys and into the darkness, "I assigned my fucking self. How's that? You wait around for orders, I give them. I'm a prince walking among peasants. I strike as fast as a praying fucking mantis and ten times as hard. And I most certainly am not required to answer your limp-dicked questions."

As Käfer's black uniform faded into the night, Max hollered after him. "Do you hear yourself, weirdo? What the hell are you even saying, whackjob?!"

Silence.

As quickly as he had appeared, Käfer was gone. With some hesitation, Max looked back and forth along the dark street, looking for any sign of the man.

Shaken by the encounter, Max turned his attention back to Gustavo. "What the hell was that?! He was so fast I couldn't see him move!"

Looking pale, Gustavo said, "We need to leave, now."

Max tilted his head. "What did the frog say?" he inquired, intrigued as he was anxious, "It told you something before he came over here, right?"

"Frogs are specialized to pick up on rhythmic noises from far away," Gustavo explained, leaning into Max's ear as his voice dropped to a whisper, "He had no heartbeat."