Stepping out of the room, Lynn noticed new faces in the hotel corridor seeking shelter. He felt somewhat fortunate for his prompt decision, yet it was far from a time for celebration. Descending the stairs swiftly, golden sunlight flooded the streets, but every face here seemed marked with worry and anxiety.
Approaching a soldier to inquire about the location of the Keil Hotel, Lynn instinctively quickened his pace. Passing two street corners, he suddenly heard a hoarse, deep voice:
"Hey, friend, do you have any passes to enter the waiting area for boarding? Any passes to get into the dock waiting area quickly? I've got bread, silverware, and watches to trade!"
Curious, Lynn turned to see a thin man in a black overcoat standing on the street corner, soliciting passersby. Initially, Lynn mistook him for a Gestapo officer due to his round-brimmed black hat, but his gaunt face, slender frame, and lack of the typical Secret Police intensity suggested otherwise; instead, he exuded a shrewdness born of necessity.
Sensing Lynn's gaze, the man suddenly turned around. Upon seeing the Wehrmacht soldier with his rifle, there was no fear in his eyes, only a timid inquiry, "Hey, soldier, do you have any passes for immediate boarding? If it's for today, I'll offer two pounds of black bread!"
"What if I want to buy?" Lynn's pronunciation wasn't perfect, but in these times, ordinary civilians had little time for suspicion, let alone resistance against Soviet spies.
The man hesitated slightly, then approached, asking in a conspiratorial tone, "One kilogram of black bread, or if you have gold, silver, or watches and jewelry, we can negotiate!"
The implication was only half clear to Lynn, so he asked the question he cared most about, "How many passes do you have for immediate access to the dock area?"
The man still seemed wary, adopting a negotiating tone, "None for today at the moment, but if you're sure you need one, I can keep an eye out for tomorrow or the day after!"
Lynn remained silent, shaking his head. Even if this black marketeer had passes, he had nothing valuable to offer in exchange. Guns? It didn't seem wise to accept from someone like him.
"Hey, soldier, if you're really interested, we can talk more..."
The man's subsequent words reminded Lynn of the market ladies back home.
Continuing along the east-west street, thoughts of the imminent destruction of Königsberg clouded Lynn's mind once again.
"Keil Hotel? There it is!"
Following the soldier's arm, Lynn spotted a partially collapsed dome building. Despite its dilapidated state, its former grandeur was still evident, and the missing letters on the sign above the entrance, along with the military personnel coming and going, indicated that it was indeed the place he was looking for.
By this time, Lynn had been walking for about forty minutes since leaving the hotel where the Whitish Goatbeard family was temporarily staying. He didn't feel particularly tired or overly concerned about Alice and Little Caprice's well-being. Instead, he was troubled by the uncertain path ahead: if, as the officer at the checkpoint suggested, he could secure priority boarding as a soldier returning to duty, but couldn't take the Whitish Goatbeard family with him, what choice should he make?
He sighed deeply and straightened his rifle, striding forward...
Twenty minutes later, as Lynn emerged from the Keil Hotel, he looked up at the sky. The blue canopy was tinged with a faint orange hue from the sunset, pointing towards paradise, far, far away.
His right hand reached into his pocket, touching the cold metal plate. Its craftsmanship was naturally not as exquisite as a medal, but it was much more refined than the ordinary passes civilians received.
His mind was in turmoil.
He walked with his head down, bumping into pedestrians one after another, muttering apologies without looking up.
As Doumyouji once said, "If apologies worked, who needs the police?"
Lynn didn't care about the looks of others; he was preoccupied with a very practical question: this specially crafted boarding pass only allowed soldiers to board alone. If he turned north, he could quickly enter the dock waiting area and, if all went well, board a ship that same day. But if he left without the Whitish Goatbeard family, how could he live with himself?
Heartrending scenes flashed through his mind.
From the young woman's perspective, a night of affection was obviously more than just a physical need for the opposite sex.
Lynn couldn't bear to think about the heavy blow his sudden departure would deal to Little Caprice, whose innocent soul might shatter as a result.
Even the usually composed White Goatbeard would feel immensely sorrowful when faced with the ugliness of human nature, wouldn't he?
Between staying and leaving, Lynn made a resolute decision.
On the other hand, from the officer who had just arranged his boarding matters, he heard that the Soviet army units bypassing East Prussia to attack Germany's mainland had crossed the Oder River. The 11th SS Volunteer Panzergrenadier Division "Nordland," to which he was subordinate on paper, was constructing defenses not far from Stettin Harbor at Andvaras and would likely soon engage with the Soviet forces.
The officer also mentioned that among the ships departing from Königsberg Harbor, every third ship was bound for Stettin, with only a day's journey in between. The rest of the ships would embark on a longer journey to ports in northern Germany and Denmark—places not yet occupied by the Anglo-American forces attacking Germany's mainland. However, with the arrival of a large number of refugees from the Eastern Front, these areas faced severe food shortages and lacked adequate housing for the refugees.
As Lynn walked, he arrived at the same intersection as before. The thin man was still buying and selling boarding passes to passing refugees—sometimes, these small cards could determine the fate of an individual or even a family.
With mixed emotions, Lynn approached him. "Hey, you!"
"Hey, buddy, do you have today's..." When the thin man realized that the guy in front of him had asked about prices without any context earlier, he stopped speaking, but his eyes blinked as he looked Lynn up and down again.
"How much is this worth?" Lynn took out the silver-gray metal piece from his pocket.
The thin man didn't show any excitement. He didn't dare to reach out but instead lowered his head to examine Lynn's palm carefully.
"This is a privileged pass for your SS troops, allowing you to enter the harbor area and wait at any time, as long as there's a ship going to your destination, you can board anytime!"
"How much?" Lynn was completely uninterested in its origin and background.
The thin man straightened up. "For civilians, it's worthless because only soldiers can use it!"
Lynn patiently waited for him to continue.
"Soldiers aren't keen on buying priority passes, but..." The thin man paused, then switched to bargaining: "Half a pound of black bread!"
Having dealt with ticket scalpers during star concerts and winter breaks taking trains, Lynn coldly replied, tossing it back, "Forget it then!"
The thin man clearly didn't expect Lynn's reaction. It wasn't until the SS soldier took a few steps away that he uttered a disappointed "Ah."
Lynn didn't look back, just slowed his pace slightly.
As expected, the thin man caught up. "Hey, buddy, although this thing isn't as useful as a same-day pass, the good thing is there's no expiry date. You can use it anytime you want. How about this? Half a pound of black bread plus a nice silver cigarette case!"
"Those soldiers who want to return home quickly have valuable spoils of war!" Lynn deliberately replied coldly.
"Do you want a watch or something else?" the thin man tentatively asked.
Lynn stopped in his tracks. "I just want food and three civilian passes for immediate boarding!"
The thin man considered for a moment. "One loaf of black bread, three passes for 228—I estimate you can enter the harbor area in three days!"
At first listen, three days seemed acceptable, but the enemy was well aware of the strategic importance of Königsberg Harbor, and the situation of the sea retreat could deteriorate at any time. Perhaps the anticipated three days could turn into five days or even a week. While one could eat less bread each day, spending an extra day here was equivalent to taking an extra risk.