Berlin was beautiful in the Fall. Unfortunately, it was also quite chilly. Hans never minded the cool air, in fact he preferred it. Being born in Vienna near the Alps had its perks, and resilience to the cold came in particular use in Europe. Hans pulled on his long trench coat over his uniform, and placed his Standartenführer’s cap over his head at an angle that was particularly attractive on his head. He wiped his fingers over his eyebrows to straighten them before leaving his home to head to the RSHA Building.
The RSHA was the official SS security headquarters in Berlin, and Hans spent a good deal of his time there. He walked down the street and watched all the different kinds of people who walked by. The detective was no mind reader, but he could read people as if they were open pages of a children’s book. They were all so simple, so plain. It was almost boring walking by people who were so predictable.
Passing by one of the coffee houses that he enjoyed, he decided to stop to grab an espresso for his way to his office. He opened it and was greeted by a few soldiers sitting at a small table by the door. Hans acknowledged them with a nod of the head, and sat at a table beside them, though it was clear he intended to mind his own business. A waitress came by and took his order of espresso, and Hans took to glancing around at the people around. Again, all so predictable. The soldiers were, as it seemed, childish but excited. They were filled with a pride for their country they did not understand.
But at a table beside him, he saw a young, beautiful woman reading the latest of the Berliner Zeitung. He took off his cap and set it down on the table, watching as the waitress approached the woman. The woman spoke fluently in German, but her French accent was blatant.