Dear Hans,
It appears that for various reasons, we haven't had very much time to be together as of late. I would like to make it up to you. Tomorrow, after work, we shall meet on floor 1, you know, in the room where all the tables are. Dining in Castle Wolfenstein is always exciting, is it not? I have arranged for the chef to be the famous TKrocket, so I'm sure the surprise dish will bring our tastebuds to heaven. And then perhaps we will go to my place? Think about it, Hansel.
Yours truly,
B.J. Blazkowicz
* * *
Sonnenlicht,
There is a disturbing rumor circulating around the castle that I must straighten out. No matter what evil, jealous people think, no, I am not Dating Eva Brawn. The very thought is preposterous; I would never hurt you in such a way! I believe the rumor has been spread by the dastardly Richard D. Peck - you know, the man who had recently been outed as an Allied spy? You'd think the name would have tipped people off sooner than that. Either way, how about we meet tomorrow to talk things over?
Always yours,
B.J. Blazkowicz
* * *
It was a dark, soggy November evening, the city devoid of its usual bustling activity as people holed up in their homes to avoid the rain. Incessant rainfall mercilessly whipped the worn cobblestone of a dark alley where a tall, square-jawed man in soaked clothes was waiting for his rendez-vous. Finally, a familiar shape began to emerge from among the torrents of water, splashing footsteps muffled by pools of rain.
-Hans, finally! I've been waiting for... Wait, you're not... Why? What's going on?
-You still don't get it? - Trans Grosse's voice was booming with anger. - By dating Eva you have made one mistake too many. I'm here to rectify it.
Nobody heard Blazkowicz's death screams, drowned out by the sound of twin chainguns revving up and spitting bullets.
-Sonnenlicht, hah... Imagine the nerve... - whispered Trans, leaving the scene of crime without any hurry. The rain poured on.
