There was not the slightest hesitation. Not a moment wasted. Bruno didn't even bother alerting his family that he would be gone. He simply wrote a quick letter and pinned it to the refrigerator.
Then, he marched out of his house and took his personal vehicle directly to the airfield. No armed guards. No uniform. Luckily for him, he was a face even the lowliest private recognized, and the airbase security let him through instantly after he presented his valid military ID.
When he arrived at the airfield, a line of Junker light transport aircraft were already being prepped for takeoff. Standing before them in full Planetree camouflage uniform was the commander of the Werwolf Brigade: Ernst Röhm. He froze at the sight of Bruno—dressed in civilian clothes, walking toward him with cold determination in his eyes.
Röhm opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but Bruno's tone cut through the air before he could speak.
