THE FÜHRER'S DAUGHTER

THE FÜHRER'S DAUGHTER (Episode 1) - Prologue & Chapter 1

"Who controls the past controls the future."

-George Orwell, 1984

"History is written by the victors."

-Winston Churchill

In 1944, Adolf Hitler dispatched a pair of Horten H.XVIIIs to drop atomic bombs on Manhattan and Chicago. The unconditional surrender of the majority of the United States followed, essentially bringing the war to an abrupt end.

PROLOGUE

Himmlerstadt 1997

ANNE SCUFFLED FORWARD, engulfed by the mass of humanity around her and the knowledge that soon she would be dead. Imposing gun turrets framed the gray sky above, casting an iron gaze down into the camp, as she tried to vanish behind the others. For hours, she'd marched around the grounds with her fellow prisoners through the frigid morning mist, praying to live another day.

Without turning her head, she whispered to Prisoner 225, a woman next to her whom she'd never before seen. "How long?"

"Seventeen days."

"Me, too."

No one she'd met here in Himmlerstadt had been around longer than that.

Don't think about it. Just keep moving.

Holding her infant daughter tight against her bosom, she said another prayer, her heart clenched and eyes alert. The crowd stopped but she kept her head down, barely recognizing her reflection in a puddle. Her once silky brown hair had been replaced by a matted mess.

Her second night here, one of the other prisoners had lent her a brush.

Neither she nor the brush had been seen since.

A guard grabbed Prisoner 225. "You! Come with me!"

Anne kept her head down and shut her eyes.

Have mercy on my baby, Lord.

Eyes squeezed shut, she stumbled as another guard yanked her to the side by her arm.

"Let's go, Infekt!"

Anne stiffened. "What? No!"

He pointed the muzzle of his gun at her forehead. "Move!"

She cried out, unable to keep from collapsing to her knees. Clinging to her daughter, she started to weep.

The guard swore in German, chambered a round and pointed his gun at her face. "Get up, NOW!"

But she could not move. Knowing what was to come, she gazed upon her daughter's innocent face. With a tremulous voice, she sang a Hebrew lullaby: "Numi, numi yaldati, Numi, numi, nim. Numi, numi k'tanati, Numi, numi, nim."

Her tears fell onto the infant's cheeks.

With an indignant huff, the guard seized Anne by the collar, then dragged her through the mud to a cinderblock wall where a few others, including Prisoner 225 stood.

Again, he pointed his gun at her. "I said get up!"

Still kneeling, Anne held the baby tight, sobbing quietly. "Mama loves you, always remember."

The soldier grunted, reached down, and pried her daughter from her arms. A frantic wave tore through Anne's exhausted stupor.

"No! Not my baby! Not my baby!"

Standing nearby, a tall female official came and took the child from the soldier.

Anne got up and lunged for her daughter, only to be stopped by the butt of the guard's rifle slamming into her stomach.