The American Reporter Pt. 04

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Helga and Harriet have begun having an affair, a radical change for Helga but other things are changing as well and when the Molotov-Ribbentrop Part is signed in Moscow, Helga overhears some startling news that will soon reverberate across the world as Hitler prepares to invade Poland. When she relays this news to Harriet she knows that soon she will face the ultimate choice, to betray her husband and her country, or to stay with Helmut and lose her one true love. However Helmut has secrets of his own that will forever change Helga.

Author’s note: I would like to thank Michael from Germany for the German translation.

*****

THE BETRAYAL

Helga arched her back as Harriet pushed harder. The rubber dildo had been lubricated with oil and the first time Harriet took it out to show her she’d blushed furiously, but after experiencing sex with the dildo it had become her favoured method of penetration. This was due partly to the fact that it better simulated ‘normal’ sex and partly because the dildo was so much larger than a penis and unlike a penis, it could be manipulated in ways that were impossible with a penis. When you added a tongue and fingers to the act of penetration, the climax was that much more satisfying and indeed lasted longer. It had also encouraged Helga to take the lead in their intimate encounters over the last two weeks, using the dildo on Harriet felt far more natural. She loved watching it slide in and out while her lover rose and fell in time with her rhythmic probing.

This particular session had been an impromptu one after a light lunch at their favourite French café when they’d gone back to Harriet’s hotel room, ostensibly to sip iced tea while Harriet worked on her next article. It was yet another interview with an Egyptian nationalist with links to the Free Officers Group although he had requested his identity be kept secret. However some time later she’d tired of the article and joined Helga on the divan in the main sitting room. Because they were in a place where they could be disturbed at an inopportune time they’d stayed clothed and just lay in each other’s arms, but that became too tempting and so Harriet retrieved the dildo from her bedroom and sliding Helga’s dress up over her knees, began a slow and luxuriously erotic session that had Helga moaning in ecstasy until finally she went over the edge and climaxed with a series of short, sharp spasms.

“What have I done to you?” Harriet murmured some time later as Helga rearranged herself.

“You have taken me to heaven,” Helga ran an appreciative eye over the pale brown dress she’d made for Harriet three days ago. It had a wide collar and buttoned down to the waist where it flared out in a wide skirt. The placket and cuffs on the short sleeves were made of black silk that she’d had found in her leftover basket, the placket covered the ivory buttons on the dress. She traced her finger lazily down the pleat, undoing the buttons as she made her way down to her waist. Harriet followed her progress as she unbuckled the belt and let it fall away. A few moments later Helga moved forward to push Harriet’s back against the wall and changing position, spread her legs wide and settled in between them as she prepared herself.

For an instant neither woman moved and then Harriet pulled her panties down to reveal the patch of hair between her legs. Helga’s eyes shifted as she moved down and knelt in front of her, the dildo slid inside and Harriet sighed with pleasure as Helga began sliding it in and out, alternating the insertions with a tongue to bathe her genitals. It was something she’d baulked at first but ever since their first encounter two weeks ago she’d been working herself up to it, a process that took all of four days before she finally attempted it. The result was an explosive orgasm that had Harriet crying out for more.

However, Helga was a quick learner and was soon able to take the time to arouse her clitoris and not over stimulate the delicate organ, she’d become almost expert when it came to female genitalia. There were times however when she contemplated the logic behind her love for Harriet. It was an affair that could not be maintained, Harriet had warned her from the start that the Times could recall her to America at any time.

“But until then we will love as if there is no tomorrow.”

Harriet’s short, sharp breathing alerted her to the coming orgasm and when she let out a long, drawn out sigh, Helga held her in place for a few seconds before withdrawing the dildo and sitting back on her haunches. Harriet left the dress riding high as she contemplated the whirling ceiling fan.

“That was the best ever.”

“I am glad,” Helga rose and sat down beside her, “I am getting used to this kind of love.”

“I have noticed that,” Harriet sat forward and proceeded to button her dress, “a natural talent. Most women take some time to get used to licking a woman down there but you seem to have found your rhythm without much help from me.”

“What happens now?”

“What bostancı escort do you mean?” Harriet paused in the act of buttoning her dress.

“I mean in the future,” she replied, “Helmut has said we will most likely be returning to Germany, probably next month.”

“When did he say this?” Harriet fastened the button.

“This morning when I was making a new set of curtains for the spare room, he said it would be a waste of time because we would probably be going back to Germany,” she looked at her.

“There is no way we could be like this in Germany and I would not want you to follow me no matter what your heart tells you. Even Nazis trip up over each other in their eagerness to betray each other to Herr Heydrich, so much for the glorious Third Reich. We have become exactly like the Soviet state that we are told to despise,” she made to get up but Harriet reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“How badly do you want to leave Helmut?”

“It is bad enough,” she leaned back against the wall, “I am living two different lives, sometimes I do not know where I am. The other day I almost called Helmut by your name and only remembered myself at the last moment.”

“And that is my fault,” Harriet swivelled to face her, “I have let this go on for some time, perhaps I too was hoping for something to happen but let us be honest. If anything is to happen then it must be up to us to make it so.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to leave Helmut and come to America. You said a few weeks ago that your Uncle Erich had wanted you to come to America?”

“Ja, but such things take time,” she frowned, “I would have to write him a letter, which would take months to reach him, by then I am in Germany and although I can give my parent’s address there is every chance my mother could open the letter and discover my intentions.”

“What about a phone call?”

“Calling from home is not an option, he would know soon enough.”

“Leave it to me,” Harriet reassured her.

“But even if this happens and I have doubts, what happens if I get to America?”

“Leave it to me,” Harriet repeated, “now perhaps I should drive you home.”

It all sounded very mysterious, like something from a film but Helga let Harriet drive her home and when she farewelled her with a kiss on the cheek, she put a hand on her crotch.

“Tomorrow I will be away from the hotel, and probably the day after too, I will send a message in the usual way when I can see you again.”

It almost sounded like a goodbye but Helga was too preoccupied with the momentous decision she had just made, to leave Helmut and try to make a new life in America.

On the face of it the decision looked simple enough, until one peeled away the layers. She would be away from her immediate family and there would be repercussions of an entirely different kind. She would be the divorcee, the woman who had abandoned her husband to pursue her own selfish needs and desires. She had met such women in the past and while sometimes she sympathised with their reasoning, there was still an instinctive desire to push back against it. Marriage vows were meant to be made once and treated as a sacred trust. Granted life was complicated, people became distant and that was without factoring in other things. In this matter however, Helga was definitely not without blame. She was the one who had the affair, she was the unfaithful wife and while she could justify her infidelity, it didn’t make it any easier.

Helmut must have sensed something was awry because he actually seemed more attentive to her the next two days, sympathising with her listlessness and when he discovered that she hadn’t seen Harriet that day he even offered to drive her to the hotel himself.

“She is good for you.”

“She is good for me?” Helga stared at him.

“You have found a new lease of life,” he loosened his tie, “it is good, perhaps when we return to Germany you could invite her to stay with us for a few days.”

“I will ask her when I see her,” she replied.

“You will see her tomorrow?”

“Perhaps,” she looked past him, “she is working on something but I will ask her.”

“Good,” he returned to his paper, “you have read the news?”

“I did not think Molotov had it in him,” she replied, “why sign a treaty with us?”

“Russia is not our main concern,” he glanced up briefly, “Poland is the stumbling block, Danzig will be free and if making a treaty with the Soviet dogs sets Danzig free then Hitler sees no harm in it. As they say in this part of the world, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

She could have said more to that and it was only in the wee small hours as she sat in the sewing room that she realised that prior to meeting Harriet she might well have gone along with his remarks on Poland without a second thought. But her lover had opened her eyes to more than just the pleasures of the flesh. She had educated her about the outside world and the subtle twists and turns büyükçekmece escort of diplomacy.

Outside of Germany, Hitler was seen as dangerous. His rapid expansion of the German borders on the pretext of freeing the German minorities in neighbouring countries was just a ploy. Hitler was Austrian by birth, a country that during the Great War had been a junior partner to Germany. His seizure of Austria had been viewed with alarm throughout Europe, Britain and even America. Then there was his unqualified support for Franco and Mussolini, absolute dictators who crushed dissent amongst their own with no regard for the consequences.

However she had really opened Helga’s eyes about the mythology of the Aryan Superman, the myth that the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Caucasian was the descendant of some ancient European race was just silliness. Likewise his seizure of an ancient Hindu symbol for peace and prosperity for his own ends. Helga recalled similar designs used by the now-banned, Thule Society. Little by little, the scales had fallen from her eyes until now she saw through a glass clearly and what she saw now disgusted and appalled her.

Hitler had created an elaborate state security system that was a model of Prussian efficiency. The Gestapo Law enacted some three years earlier had effectively put the Gestapo beyond the control of the judiciary. A few had protested, citing Lord Acton’s famous quote, ‘power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.’ However, even those who protested were doomed, such opposition was a curious mixture of right wing extremists and left wing Socialists, a marriage made in hell.

It meant however that if she was to make her escape she had to move now and not put it off, and that kept her tossing and turning the rest of the night until she finally drifted off to sleep sometime after the clock chimed four times.

She awoke suddenly to the sound of the door opening and their maid entering the room. She had an envelope in her hand and after handing it to her, backed out of the bedroom. Helga looked at the other side of the bed, Helmut had gone to work already and it was 8:45. She tore the envelope open and pulled out an invitation for a recital by the Boston Philharmonic Society, the invitation was for Harriet Michaels and her friend, Helga Bornhoffen and it was to take place tonight at 19:30 at the American embassy. A small note accompanied the letter, it was from Harriet.

I will pick you up at 18:45, Harriet.

Helga read and reread the note and invitation, trying to find some hidden meaning but after fifteen minutes she flopped back against the pillow and stared at the elaborately moulded panels in the ceiling.

“So my path is set,” she murmured.

A recital meant she had to find something to wear, and she had to prepare for the night but with so little information to go on, Helga found herself beginning to spiral out of control. Harriet had said she’d take care of it but how? Was she going to introduce her to the ambassador or some minor embassy official? What was this plan? How was she to get to America? Would it involve bribery? That thought did occur to her as she lay in the bath just before lunch. She had some money back in Germany but it was in the bank and getting a banker’s draft approved would involve phone calls and letters.

I should just leave him today and be done with it, she mused some time later as she donned a pale blue day dress. I could stay at a hotel and sneak Harriet in at night.

That fantasy kept her entertained, not for any logical value but merely because it kept her mind occupied until she got ready. The red dress looked far too bold but she liked the way the skirt flared out and the attached belt cinched her waist in nicely. She half considered leaving two or three of the buttons undone, Harriet would notice but instead she fastened it to the very top and added a brooch for good measure. Matching shoes and handbag completed the outfit and she then sat down to do her hair and makeup.

She was nearly finished when she heard the doorbell and a minute later faint voices. She strained her ears to pick up something and then she heard footfalls on the stairs and not long afterwards Harriet stepped into the bedroom. She was wearing a white dress and black belt, her hat was at a rakish angle, held there with a hatpin.

“You look ravishing my dear,” Harriet moved up behind her.

“I feel weary,” their eyes met.

“After tonight you might sleep easier,” she put her hands on Helga’s shoulders, “or perhaps you might not. There is someone who wants to meet you.”

“Who?”

“One of my contacts from the State Department,” she let go of her shoulders, “does Helmut know where you are going tonight?”

“Scheisse,” she swore in German, “I have to call him, he is working late again.”

“No need, we will pass by the embassy on our way to the American embassy,” she smiled, “you can tell him then. çatalca escort Have you got the invitation card?”

“Ja,” she picked it up, “the Boston Philharmonic Society. Do you think they will play any jazz?”

“I don’t think the conductor approves of the devil’s music,” she smirked, “but we are not going for the music,” she looked around the room.

“What is this plan of yours?”

“It involves a little subterfuge,” she winked, “I told you I’d think of something.”

Helga wanted to know more but Harriet was curiously silent as she drove towards the German embassy a few minutes later but once she pulled up outside, she picked up her handbag and opened the door.

“I will come in with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Helga laid a hand on her arm.

“I have to,” she slid off the seat, “come on, the clock is ticking.”

Helmut was surprised to see them and gave his wife the once over before asking why she was all dressed up.

“For a concert,” she replied in German, “at the American embassy.”

“I see,” his eyes flickered to Harriet, knowing full well that she spoke fluent German.

“Can I use the phone?” Harriet nodded at the phone on the reception desk.

“Of course,” he nodded, “we will give you privacy.”

“No need,” she sat down at the desk and took a clay tablet out of her handbag and placed it on the desk, she was taking out a small notebook when Helmut’s eyes shifted.

“What is that?”

“It is something that was found at a dig in the Negev desert,” she flipped through the notebook and found the number.

“That looks like a swastika,” he moved closer.

“It is a similar symbol,” she picked up the phone and started dialling, “but the swastika is a fairly universal symbol, it is found in many cultures.”

She put the receiver to her ear and leaned on her palm.

“Have a look if you want.”

“I would love to hold it.”

“Just don’t drop it,” Harriet replied and then smiled as she spoke to the telephonist at the other end of the line, “professor Kohl if you please,” she then read out the number and waited for the call to be connected.

“Hello, Professor Kohl? It’s Harriet Michaels from the New York Times, did you get my earlier message?” Harriet glanced over as Helmut picked up the tablet reverently, “oh, good, I was just wondering if we will see you tonight? Oh… well that is a shame because I have the piece with me,” she glanced at Helmut.

“But perhaps tomorrow then? At my hotel?” Harriet straightened up, “all right, I’ll see you then, have a pleasant evening,” she put the receiver down and nodded at Helmut.

“Still, it is odd. The professor will be able to verify if it is the genuine article.”

“You were in the Negev?”

“No, it was passed onto me by a source working on the dig.”

“I should like to know more.”

Harriet pursed her lips and nodded as she held out her hand for the tablet.

“Well, I am good friends with your wife, I’m sure I can tell you more once I have verified that this is a genuine antique and not some forgery.”

“Of course,” he handed it back, “well, I shall not keep you,” he took a step back and nodded at his wife, “enjoy the show.”

“What was all that about?” Helga raised an eyebrow some five minutes later as Harriet pulled away from the front of the embassy.

“Subterfuge,” she lit the cigarette, “did you know what your husband does at the embassy?”

“Clerical work he told me so.”

“That is probably part of his work but it is not his true job.”

“What is his true job?”

“He is working for the Ahnenerbe, he is like a scout for want of a better word, one of many placed in strategic locations around the world and given positions in German embassies that suggest they are merely clerical staff. Their job is to find evidence that proves an historical Aryan race once ruled the world, it is one of Himmler’s pet projects,” Harriet blew out a cloud of smoke.

“The tablet is a fake, it was made by the man I just called, but the call I just made was confirmation that Helmut had seen the tablet.”

Helga exhaled suddenly and put a hand to her throat, Harriet pulled over and came to a stop.

“Relax, but if you want to go through with this then we have to set a plan in motion. These people can expedite your flight to America but they will ask for something in return.”

“What?”

“Information,” she replied, “my contact is interested in your husband but he wouldn’t tell me much more than that and I didn’t ask. Believe me, if there was another way to do this I would do it in a heartbeat but time is of the essence and we must be moving,” she touched her leg.

“Do you still want to do this?”

Helga stared straight ahead as she slowly answered.

“Let us go forward, but I wish I had known earlier.”

“Then you would have had less time to put on an innocent face,” Harriet nudged the accelerator, “this way you played your part brilliantly, not even the great Garbo could have done better.”

That did put a slight smile on her face but she still felt nervous as they pulled into the parking lot outside the American embassy. She saw people she recognised, at least two of the wives from the German embassy but Harriet waited until they were inside before they went in.

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