“I understand,” he husked.

He saw Dietrich smile.

“Good! Now, shall we start again? What language shall we speak? It would be useful if you spoke German.”

“I don’t mind,” said Lockhart in German. “But can I have some water? I can hardly speak.”

It was true. Lockhart’s throat was so dry that speech was becoming impossible.

“You can, and you may even have some food as well.”

Dietrich nodded to Fasshauer.

“Guard!” Fasshauer shouted.

A breathless young soldier appeared at the door.

“Yes, sir?”

“Get the prisoner some food and water.”

“Yes, sir!”

He must live, for the sake of his family. Anna would cling and fight and be strong, because she would want to see him and Amy again. He had to do the same, to keep his side of the bargain, to show her that he would endure anything to see her again, to show her that he was her equal. It would be harder to stay alive, too easy now just to let go, to give up. To do so would be a waste. Fuck Dietrich. He could break all his fingers and do whatever his sick brain liked.

Lockhart’s mind went back to his finger. It was swelling alarmingly and the pain was changing from a stabbing to a throbbing. The nausea was worsening, and he retched violently, as though he was trying to turn his stomach inside out. The sound brought Dietrich and Fasshauer back into the room. Dietrich observed his captive with scorn.

“So you are at last beginning to feel sick then?” he asked. “I hope you’re not going to bring up the food that you are about to be given. That would be most ungrateful.”

Fasshauer laughed.

“I think he would even if he was feeling well,” he observed.

Dietrich smiled and then let the smile fade from his eyes. He crouched down and spoke into Lockhart’s ear.

“I know you’re a spy, and you know full well I can have you shot. It wouldn’t even break the Geneva Convention, so it would be legal! But let’s say that I’m feeling generous, and let’s just say that you’re feeling generous too and feel like giving me some information. In return, I could get that finger of yours dressed up. And if you were very clever and generous, you could perhaps help me, and I would help you. Who knows? Perhaps you might even live a little longer.”

Lockhart stayed silent, taking it all in. Dietrich continued.

“I think you know what I’m saying. I’m sure you’d rather stay alive, and if I’m going to be honest, I’d rather you stayed alive too. You’re fun to have around, and you could be very useful to me. So why don’t you eat some food and have a think, eh? Of course, if you don’t want to help me, then I’ll leave you in the oberleutnant’s hands.”