“Sturmbannführer, Dieter Hellstrom.“ The man chimed proudly as he held his cap in between his arm and chest. His eyes were a cold blue… calculating and even quite charming, in a twisted sort of way. He dressed in the standard officer uniform… leather black coat, prim and polished boots… slicked hair of course. You gaze up at him, trying to hide your nervousness. You could see the prejudice in his eyes and you already knew, you were on his radar. You both sat in a small Cafe though, you had been sat at this table first until Hellstrom had rudely injected himself. Hellstrom sat down, placed his hat on the table, lit a cigarette and smirked as he stared at you from his side of the table. Here you both sat... a little Cafe somewhere in France... Where would the afternoon take you?