Cross Conviction

Predator (5-2)



As Sturm and his teammates went to exit the classroom, Major Krieger made a point to pull Magnolia aside for further reprimand. He lectured her on the importance of drill and the chain of command, and her place as a cog in a well-oiled machine. Though the two boys initially waited in the hall for her, it soon became clear that Magnolia wouldn't be joining them any time soon. Scheduled to meet their captain in the interrogation room, they decided it best to make their way to the rendezvous now and let Magnolia catch up later.

Meeting Sturm and Gustavo at the heavy, reinforced door to the interrogation chamber, Scharf sighed annoyedly. “You're late.”

Sturm looked down at his wristwatch to check the time. It was 12:28, meaning they were two minutes early. Regardless, he thought better of arguing with the captain and kept silent. 

Scharf's eye shot back and forth, scanning the mostly vacant hall with a furrowed brow. "Where is the girl?"

"She got in trouble with Major Krieger, sir," Gustavo replied.

The captain grumbled, "Idiot..."

He ushered the boys into the interrogation room and closed the heavy door behind them with a loud, mechanical clang. Inside they found Max Allemann sitting in a wooden chair, handcuffed to a sturdy lock attached to the top of a thick steel table, itself bolted to the concrete floor.

"Fancy meeting you guys here," Max chuckled sarcastically before clearing his throat. "So, uh... where's the cute one?"

"Right here," Scharf quipped back, patting Sturm on the back hard enough to push him forward.

Max frowned in disappointment before letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Not what I had in mind."

Suddenly, Scharf tossed a folder onto the table and motioned his hand toward it. Gustavo picked it up and looked through the contents. He then looked up at the captain.

"Excuse me, sir. Am I to understand that we will be executing this interrogation alone?" he inquired, eyes peering out from behind the tan folder.

Scharf leaned back against the wall. "You're capable, aren't you?"

Gustavo gave a hesitant nod and looked back to Max before beginning the questioning.

"Is your name Maximilian Allemann?"

"Who's asking?" Max replied snarkily.

Calmly, Gustavo replied, "It's a simple question."

Suddenly, Sturm interjected. "Arthur Sturm."

"Excuse me?" Max responded, eyebrow raised. 

Sturm sat down across the table from Max and placed his hands flat on the countertop. "That's who's asking," he explained. 

Max looked Sturm dead in the eye, his usual cocky grin giving way to total seriousness while his thumbs twitched and shifted against each other.

"As in… 'Hurricane' Sturm?" he inquired suspiciously.

Sturm nodded. "He's my father."

"Damn it. I thought I heard them say 'Sturm' yesterday..." said Max through gritted teeth, "I almost had you, too…"

Crossing his arms, Sturm tilted his head with curiosity.

"I told you, didn't I?" Max asked, leaning forward across the table as best he could from his restrained position, "I told you that I wanted to be the Reich's top-scoring knight."

"No, you told me that you would have been the top-scoring knight. You never implied that you cared," Sturm answered matter-of-factly.

Max just sighed and looked down at his hands. "Well, I wanted to, alright?" he said quietly. 

Sturm paused and the room momentarily went quiet.

"Look…" started Max, "I wanted to be like you guys, alright? I am like you guys. But we have one tiny difference that just happens to be the only thing the Führer cares about. My dream is dead and there's no point talking about it anymore."

Sturm and Gustavo glanced at each other before looking back to Scharf, still leaning against the cold brick wall. The captain simply met their eyes and waved his hand, instructing them to continue. Gustavo then cleared his throat, directing Max's attention back to him. Hastily looking down at the documents in the folder, Gustavo prepared the next question.

"So, why exactly were you out stealing people's wallets?"

Max said nothing. 

"Are you starving?" Gustavo pressed on.

Max cracked a smirk and gave a cynical chuckle. "Starving? Come on…" he scoffed.

"I don't understand," Gustavo replied.

"No, I'm not starving. What kind of cliché sob story were you expecting? Do you want to know about my sick little sister next?", said Max before laughing and shaking his head. "Yeah, she needs brain surgery."

Gustavo gave Max a puzzled look. After a pause, he leaned forward and placed his hand on the corner of the table. "Why then?"

Max sighed and leaned his head back as far as he could, given his situation. "Because sometimes I want a little extra, alright? Good food, nice clothes, that kind of thing."

Gustavo turned to Sturm, who shrugged. 

"I already told you…" Max spoke up once more, "I'll stop. A gourmet sandwich isn't worth getting carted off by the Gestapo."

Gustavo turned to the next page in the folder and his eyes immediately widened with intrigue. The interrogation was about to get interesting. 

"You're certain that the money wasn't being used to fund Antifascist Action or the Red Front?" asked Gustavo.

"The hell would I help them for?" Max snapped back, aggravated by the suggestion, "Besides, I already told you what the money was for!"

Gustavo immediately took note of Max's change in demeanor. Quickly, he followed up with another question. "That one seems to have bothered you, Max. Why? What's your association with the Marxists?"

"I have no God damned association with any Marxists. They can all go to hell!" Max barked aggressively.

Sturm and Gustavo glanced at each other silently before Max sighed.

"Look…" he started, "I hate those guys as much as you do. In fact, I probably hate them more. Obviously, the Nazis are no friends of mine, but it's not like the Reds would treat me any better."

"How do you know that?" Gustavo inquired, crossing his arms.

"Because they've already tried to jump me. Sure, the Nazis hate Jews. But the Reds hate all religions equally. What the hell would the difference be?"

Gustavo went to speak but Scharf immediately cut him off. "Who attacked you? Red Front or the Antifascists?"

Max shifted his attention to the captain and seemed to tense up slightly. "I don't know which they were…" he explained with a hint of nervousness in his voice, apparently intimidated by the grizzled veteran, "They asked for money, I told them to screw. Then they started with that bullshit party line about needing it for the 'people' and the 'revolution'."

"What did they look like?" Asked Scharf. 

"There were four of them… ratty green and brown jackets… um…" Max shifted his jaw as he looked to the ceiling, apparently fishing through his memory for details, "They had these red neckerchief things. You know, like a dark red rag around their neck? But some had it on their arm."

"Exceptionals?" Sturm inquired. 

Max smirked. "Nah, I just got rolled by a bunch of random dickheads. Superpowers just ain't what they used to be, I guess."

Sturm frowned, unamused by the sarcasm. "Well, you said that they 'tried' to jump you, not that you got your ass kicked."

Max's cocky grin returned, entertained by the verbal jousting. "Yeah, they were quick. Not as quick as me, but faster than any normal human."

"What were their abilities?" Scharf spoke up.

Max shrugged. "Not sure about most of them. One suckered punched me, but they bailed when the claws came out and I got one of the losers in his face. He started crying and moaning like a bitch and got the attention of some soldiers," Max explained with a triumphant smile.

"You said you weren't sure about 'most' of them?" asked Sturm, leaning forward once more.

"Yeah yeah, I was getting to that!" Max continued, "So basically they got spooked and took off. I kept coming at them when they were trying to bail though, so one of them spit fire all over the place to buy time."

Sturm's eyes widened in shock. A band of rogue exceptionals was on the loose, and one had some level of control over fire. Moreover, the suspect was a violent terrorist. Could this group be responsible for the murders of Ida Weber and the other female exceptionals? If they were Communist militants, that would be reason enough for them to target Iron Knight cadets. 

Gustavo hurriedly scribbled the information in the folder before returning the pen to his coat pocket.

"And when was this?" Scharf inquired.

Max closed one eye in thought. "Um... probably about a week or two ago. Let's say ten days."

Something was off. If a blaze had occurred in such a populated Berlin area, they certainly would have heard of it. Because of this, Sturm began to suspect that Max might be embellishing the details of his altercation. However, just as he went to press the issue with Max, the captain cut him off.

"What were the guards' affiliation?" 

Without hesitation, Max replied, "SS."

"Damn it..." Scharf growled under his breath.

Curious, Sturm turned around in his chair to face his captain. "Is something wrong, sir?"

After a brief pause, Scharf spoke up. "Yes. It's as I had initially feared. You already saw Krieger, so I'll assume that means you've heard the news. The SS likely knows more about these recent disturbances than they're letting on."

"But what do they gain by covering these things up? Do you think they're involved, captain?" Gustavo asked as he closed the folder.

"No," answered Scharf, "However, they must believe that it's easier to suppress the truth and maintain illusions of utopia than it is to eliminate the threat."

"Lying to keep the peace..." added Gustavo.

Sturm shook his head in disagreement. "No, a mirage of peace."

"Excuse me," started Max, "What the hell is going on here? Would anyone care to explain? You're all talking nonsense!"

The captain glared down at Max with his one blue eye before suddenly tossing the shining silver key to the restraints down on the countertop, catching his subordinates off guard. 

Taken aback, Max beamed back up at Scharf with narrowed eyes. "What is this..?"

"Sturm, unlock Allemann's cuffs." commanded the captain.

Stunned, Max stammered, "W-wait, hold on... I'm a Jew, remember?"

As Sturm turned the key and wrestled with the lock's mechanism, Scharf spoke up once more. "Indeed, you are a Jew. And if you tell anyone that you are again, you'll get the rest of us arrested and sent to a Gestapo prison."

"Hey, I wouldn't do that!" Max protested, "Anyway, they'd obviously arrest me, too!"

"No," replied Scharf, "They wouldn't, because I'd kill you before they could."

Grinning nervously, Max forced a slight chuckle. "Ah... right..."

With a final wrenching of the key, the heavy cuffs swung open and Max was free. He immediately jerked his hands away and rubbed his reddened wrists. "Damn, those things are the real deal..." he groaned.

Without warning, the captain exclaimed, "Attention!"

Sturm immediately jumped to his feet and clicked the metal heels of his boots together, straightening out his back as he stood motionless next to Alvarez, who mirrored his actions. Silently, Scharf stared Max down, eye gleaming with menace.

"... what?" asked Max, completely bewildered as he scanned the room.

"To attention, Allemann!" Scharf shouted once more.

Slowly, and quite confusedly, Max stepped next to the other boys and did his best to copy their posture. The perplexed look on his face never ceased as he stood in formation.

"Maximilian Allemann!" started the captain, "Until further notice, you are a member of the Third Hunter Team! You will obey my every command and work in perfect synergy with your squadmates to ensure the completion of any objective that this team is tasked with!" 

Stunned, Max's eyes lit up. At this point, he likely would have broken formation to celebrate, had he not been too overcome with excitement to move.

Scharf leaned forward until his face was at Max's height before continuing. "You were arrested after failing to register with the Ministry of Exceptional Activity so that you might use your powers to procure private wealth, rather than serve the Reich. Now your punishment rests in your service. Do you understand?"

Unresponsive, Max felt that he was trapped in a dream.

Annoyed at his lack of answer, Scharf hollered once more, "Do you understand, Allemann?!"

Max blinked and, taking back control of his body, gave a fidgety nod. "Y-yes, sir!"

Captain Scharf marched across the concrete floor to the heavy door and swung it open with ease with his one remaining hand. "Alvarez and Sturm, locate Ms. Wald and return to your bunks at once. Await further instruction. Allemann, you will accompany me to the commandant's officer to complete your registration. Are there any questions?"

"No, sir!" Sturm and Gustavo replied in unison.

Audibly lagging behind, Max replied with a soft, tense voice, "N-no sir..."

With that, the Third Hunter Team exited the interrogation room and went their separate ways. The captain hastily took Max toward General Vogel's officer, while the other boys made their way back to their room, checking for any sign of their female companion as they walked. 


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