Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread II
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
Unscrupulous, dishonest, self absorbed and self centered, willing to take advantage of friends and uncaring as to the consequences of her actions except as they pertain to herself. No those are sociopathic attributes I would condemn in a male as much as in a female. Those kinds of people are best kept out of your life and if you must have interactions with them make sure to have enough distance so that when they self immolate you don't get caught in the splash.
Karmann Ghia...
Today, if you have up to €60,000 spare, there are a few available.
I suspect it may be this one they're looking at:
I suspect though, that if this one only had one previous owner, and that owner happened to sign the ownership documents Kristina Von Hohenzollern, you would be looking at one hundred times the price. The documents alone would be worth the €35,000 price tag to collectors, more if she signed it Kristina Von Fischer.
In fact I could see a certain as agency executive in the US importing a Karmann Ghia of the same spec solely because Kiki bought one.
Today, if you have up to €60,000 spare, there are a few available.
I suspect it may be this one they're looking at:
I suspect though, that if this one only had one previous owner, and that owner happened to sign the ownership documents Kristina Von Hohenzollern, you would be looking at one hundred times the price. The documents alone would be worth the €35,000 price tag to collectors, more if she signed it Kristina Von Fischer.
In fact I could see a certain as agency executive in the US importing a Karmann Ghia of the same spec solely because Kiki bought one.
I have a hard time believing that a man would be praised in society for kidnapping or blackmail.
or is this just a case of unreliable narrator?
What I could believe is that society would provide more pro-social outlets and roles for ruthless men, which than would be applauded.
You mean things like the military, associated football.
I can understand the reason for Kiki wanting to buy a car on her own like ordinary people would do, but after this experience just go ahead and use the name and influence that it brings.
I have a question, what is the level of protection that Kiki has?
I don't see it at a U.S. Presidential level but there should be at two bodyguards to deter the crazies and maybe more of there is any actionable intelligence detected.
I'm sure that there's at least 2 maintaining a discreet distance
And for the level that Zella has shown, Cheezy Tabloid Writer.
She has the best security anyone in Germany has, Security by Kat. You won't see it until its too late to do anything about it.
The most amusing is that more than likely the Car will be promptly "borrowed" by Kat in order to be "improved" to the delight of Zella and the dismay of Kiki. Going to be amusing to see HOW much shit Kat it puts in the car to pass HER standards....
Not to mention the Corporate Boardroom, the Legal Profession, anything related to the Music Industry particularly A&R...
Part 91, Chapter 1430
Chapter One Thousand Four Hundred Thirty
2nd February 1961
Tempelhof, Berlin
Staring at the ceiling of her darken bedroom, Kat was aware of Marie’s even breathing as her daughter had snuggled in close to her and had fallen asleep. Tat and Jo were by the window where they had opened the curtain a crack to let in a bit of light so that they could look at a magazine that Jo had acquired.
These days, whenever Kat got depressed, she had Jo, Tatiana and Marie to contend with. They were always trying to cheer her up, but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about today’s date. It had been exactly twenty-two years since the Reichstag bombing and like every other year the phone calls started. Mostly reporters asking her opinion of the event itself and what had happened in the years since. Lately, there had been an undercurrent caused by cranks who were convinced that César Sauvageot was still alive but hiding somewhere. The entire proof of that rested entirely on the fact that they couldn’t find his grave. As if Sauvageot’s family or the Government of France was remotely interested in digging either him or the whole matter he represented up again. The whole thing was a complete farce, Kat vividly remembered putting six bullets into that man as he had stopped to gloat over what he had thought was his final revenge. He was as dead as Kat had made anyone over the years and was going to stay way.
While they couldn’t very well deny that the bombing had happened, they were questioning the motive behind the bombing itself and who had benefited from it. Augustus Lang had been catapulted into power and Social Democratic Party had cemented its hold on the Reichstag for a generation. The National Liberals, who had already been out of power by that point, had been decimated by the blast, but then so had the SDP. The far-right as represented by the Monarchist and Nationalist Parties, who had only ever been minor players had basically ceased to exist in the elections that had followed after their own rising stars had been among the dead. The worst thing they did was allege that there had been some sort of conspiracy with Jacob von Schmidt and Rhona Reise’s involvement. They might as well have the word “Jews” be up in flashing red lights and mention banking conspiracies while they were at it. Apparently, the retired Grand Admiral wasn’t doing well, his mental faculties were slipping away if rumors were to be believed. And Rhona, Augustus Lang’s widow, had been living quietly for the last few years. Kat really hoped that they were being left alone.
No one had been foolish enough to approach Kat with that nonsense. It was just as well because she would give them something real to complain about if they did. Hardly a day went by when something didn’t remind her of her role in the bombing. Something that she considered her greatest personal failure. Kat still thought that if she had been just a bit faster on the uptake when she had spotted Sauvageot across the gallery, then there might have been time to properly evacuate the building and/or disarm the explosives. She failed in that and it set the stage for everything that followed. Hundreds died in the first explosion, then millions had died over the next several years as the whole world had ripped itself to pieces.
Tomorrow, when Kat got past the anniversary of the bombing, she would still have the present to contend with. Kiki had decided that she needed a car and in the manner of young women everywhere since the invention of the automobile, she had gone straight for the least practical one she could find. A red VW sportscar convertible in this case. The two bodyguards who had been assigned to the Princess had reported that it had been amusing to watch Kiki and Zella negotiate with the Salesman. Zella liked to think of herself as shrewd, hard driving and tough as nails when the truth was that anyone who spoke with her for more than five seconds knew that without others to back her up, she tended to wilt like a hothouse flower. A couple of years earlier a British musician had written a song about how vapid and pretentious Zella could be at times, it had been a minor hit for the band. Kat would have thought that incident would have taught Zella a lesson but so far it hadn’t. Maria said that Zella still had a lot of growing up to do and that was going to be a painful process. As much as Kat loved Zella as a niece of sorts, she couldn’t disagree with that, nor was it something that she could protect Zella from.
Looking at Marie, Kat remembered what Kiki and Zella had been like when they were her age. Things had certainly been easier. Give Zella a meter or two of butcher’s paper to color on and that would keep her busy all day. Kiki had been content to spend every waking moment in the massive book collection that her family had acquired over the centuries having basically taught herself to read by the time she was five. Kat missed those two little girls.
Marie mumbled something as she came close to waking up and Kat hugged her. She really hoped that Marie wouldn’t be in such a rush to grow up like the rest of her girls had been for a long time.
2nd February 1961
Tempelhof, Berlin
Staring at the ceiling of her darken bedroom, Kat was aware of Marie’s even breathing as her daughter had snuggled in close to her and had fallen asleep. Tat and Jo were by the window where they had opened the curtain a crack to let in a bit of light so that they could look at a magazine that Jo had acquired.
These days, whenever Kat got depressed, she had Jo, Tatiana and Marie to contend with. They were always trying to cheer her up, but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about today’s date. It had been exactly twenty-two years since the Reichstag bombing and like every other year the phone calls started. Mostly reporters asking her opinion of the event itself and what had happened in the years since. Lately, there had been an undercurrent caused by cranks who were convinced that César Sauvageot was still alive but hiding somewhere. The entire proof of that rested entirely on the fact that they couldn’t find his grave. As if Sauvageot’s family or the Government of France was remotely interested in digging either him or the whole matter he represented up again. The whole thing was a complete farce, Kat vividly remembered putting six bullets into that man as he had stopped to gloat over what he had thought was his final revenge. He was as dead as Kat had made anyone over the years and was going to stay way.
While they couldn’t very well deny that the bombing had happened, they were questioning the motive behind the bombing itself and who had benefited from it. Augustus Lang had been catapulted into power and Social Democratic Party had cemented its hold on the Reichstag for a generation. The National Liberals, who had already been out of power by that point, had been decimated by the blast, but then so had the SDP. The far-right as represented by the Monarchist and Nationalist Parties, who had only ever been minor players had basically ceased to exist in the elections that had followed after their own rising stars had been among the dead. The worst thing they did was allege that there had been some sort of conspiracy with Jacob von Schmidt and Rhona Reise’s involvement. They might as well have the word “Jews” be up in flashing red lights and mention banking conspiracies while they were at it. Apparently, the retired Grand Admiral wasn’t doing well, his mental faculties were slipping away if rumors were to be believed. And Rhona, Augustus Lang’s widow, had been living quietly for the last few years. Kat really hoped that they were being left alone.
No one had been foolish enough to approach Kat with that nonsense. It was just as well because she would give them something real to complain about if they did. Hardly a day went by when something didn’t remind her of her role in the bombing. Something that she considered her greatest personal failure. Kat still thought that if she had been just a bit faster on the uptake when she had spotted Sauvageot across the gallery, then there might have been time to properly evacuate the building and/or disarm the explosives. She failed in that and it set the stage for everything that followed. Hundreds died in the first explosion, then millions had died over the next several years as the whole world had ripped itself to pieces.
Tomorrow, when Kat got past the anniversary of the bombing, she would still have the present to contend with. Kiki had decided that she needed a car and in the manner of young women everywhere since the invention of the automobile, she had gone straight for the least practical one she could find. A red VW sportscar convertible in this case. The two bodyguards who had been assigned to the Princess had reported that it had been amusing to watch Kiki and Zella negotiate with the Salesman. Zella liked to think of herself as shrewd, hard driving and tough as nails when the truth was that anyone who spoke with her for more than five seconds knew that without others to back her up, she tended to wilt like a hothouse flower. A couple of years earlier a British musician had written a song about how vapid and pretentious Zella could be at times, it had been a minor hit for the band. Kat would have thought that incident would have taught Zella a lesson but so far it hadn’t. Maria said that Zella still had a lot of growing up to do and that was going to be a painful process. As much as Kat loved Zella as a niece of sorts, she couldn’t disagree with that, nor was it something that she could protect Zella from.
Looking at Marie, Kat remembered what Kiki and Zella had been like when they were her age. Things had certainly been easier. Give Zella a meter or two of butcher’s paper to color on and that would keep her busy all day. Kiki had been content to spend every waking moment in the massive book collection that her family had acquired over the centuries having basically taught herself to read by the time she was five. Kat missed those two little girls.
Marie mumbled something as she came close to waking up and Kat hugged her. She really hoped that Marie wouldn’t be in such a rush to grow up like the rest of her girls had been for a long time.
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Even Kat can't be everywhere, anytime. Probably a couple of discreet shadows at hand, and a car close-by with reinforcements and as a mean for exfiltration, if needed.
Kat is still seeing the ghosts of the people who did not make it out of the Reichstag in time and not the ones who lived because she was there.
I wonder if anybody has ever asked Kat what if she wasn't there that day what would have happened?
As time goes on there is going to be more and more conspiracy theories about the Reichstag bombing and on the attack on the Imperial Family that will use the word False Flag, Rothschild, Zionist, and International Bankers.
So is Kiki going to get the cute convertible or is she going to have to get a practical sedan from Mercedes or BMW?
I wonder if anybody has ever asked Kat what if she wasn't there that day what would have happened?
As time goes on there is going to be more and more conspiracy theories about the Reichstag bombing and on the attack on the Imperial Family that will use the word False Flag, Rothschild, Zionist, and International Bankers.
So is Kiki going to get the cute convertible or is she going to have to get a practical sedan from Mercedes or BMW?
No, just get a clapped out, slightly rustsy old Fohn, just like the 200.000 or more still running about. Disappear in the background/not worth a second look etc. Not this "red thumb" sticking out and drawing attention.
See that has me wondering if P-M has a completely factual timeline on the side which he updates along with the story, so that when he finally says "done!" he can then post that timeline over what actually happened.
Resulting in several people (You know who you are
) re-reading the entire thing with the timeline at hand.
Part 91, Chapter 1431
Chapter One Thousand Four Hundred Thirty-One
6th February 1961
Near Oswiecim, Poland
The engine of the Kombi was chugging away as Job drove it down the road, a narrow band of asphalt between fields that were covered in snow. Every minute or so a gust of wind would catch the slab-sided cargo van and try to push it off the road. Job did his best to keep it in the right lane, but he supposed that it was a good thing that there wasn’t a whole lot of traffic on the road today.
That was because it was one of those days where Spring seemed like it would never come. It was bitterly cold and when the sun had come up that morning it had not become light, only slightly less grey. The snow was holding off, for now. Job didn’t wasn’t to be on the road when that changed. Fortunately for him the air-cooled engine of the Kombi didn’t mind the cold, it tended to run hot anyway so this weather suited it. Just that morning, Job had seen that one of the Opal lorries that was used by the company that employed him had its radiator freeze overnight. The Manager had been furious with the idiot who he assumed had filled it with water as opposed to antifreeze. Still, this being Upper Silesia and Southern Poland that they were operating in, it was anyone’s guess where the antifreeze had actually ended up. While Job didn’t think that any of his coworkers were crazy enough to drink it, he wouldn’t put it past them.
Job had finished the morning deliveries and was planning on having a meal in Oswiecim before getting the afternoon deliveries that were to be waiting for him in the depot there. The freight order would be in the depot or it would not, this time of the year it was a bit of a crapshoot. If it wasn’t there, then he would be perfectly happy to drive back to Hindenburg and go home early on a day like today.
That was then that Job came across the scene of an accident. A Kombi similar to the one he was driving had run off the road and through a fence before getting stuck in the snow. As Job slowed to a stop, he saw the young woman trying to get his attention. When he opened the door, the icy blast of air came as a shock after the warmth after how warm it had been in the Kombi. There was a look in her eyes, like if she were scared of something. Probably having just run off the road if Job had to guess. He was aware of the snow crunching under his feet as he walked to the side of the road.
“We have to go” The woman said frantically as she walked past him to his Kombi, “Now.”
“But weren’t you just in an accident?” Job asked in reply as he turned towards her, “Shouldn’t we wait for the authorities or at least inform the property owner about their fence.”
The woman was pulling open the door on the passenger side of his Kombi. Job was getting the impression that something was happening here that he wasn’t picking up on.
“You aren’t just going to abandon your Kombi out here, are you?” Job asked.
“It’s not my…” The woman started to say, but then the look on her face became one of total horror as she looked past Job.
With that much warning Job barely managed to deflect the blow upwards, so the knife missed his neck. Instead, the injury he had suffered nearly two decades earlier saved his life. When the shell fragment had punched through his skull it had left a depressed fracture. The surgeons had been unable to do anything about the sliver of metal lodged in his brain, but after cleaning up the fracture they had installed a stainless-steel plate to protect the weakened portion of his skull. It was of far sterner stuff than mere bone so instead of being killed, the knife hit steel and leaving him with a superficial cut on his scalp. When Job spun on his heel and threw a punch that connected with his attacker’s face, he heard a satisfying crunch even as pain blossomed in his hand. Job had never been a weak man and while his injury might have damaged his mind, there was nothing wrong with his ability to hold his own in a fight.
In the corner of his eye he saw the woman climbing into his Kombi. The man who Job had just punched was scrambling to get back to his own vehicle. He could remember the Feldwebel who had led his Squad saying that there were times when he needed to know when it was time to fall back. Job’s head was hurting and he could feel blood trickling down his neck from the cut on his scalp. This was one of those times. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Job started driving in the direction of Oswiecim. The woman was fearfully staring at Job, waiting to see what he was going to do. Seeing her up close, he realized that she was younger than he had thought, little more than a girl. He also saw that one of the knuckles on his right hand looked misshapen. He would need to have it seen to.
Tempelhof, Berlin
It was early evening when Kat received the call from Sven. After months of frustration, they finally had a break in the case. A young woman had excepted a ride from a stranger into town because she didn’t want to walk because there was a winter storm blowing in. When she became suspicious of the driver of the Kombi and had the presence of mind to grab ahold of the steering wheel, deliberately running the Kombi into a field when she saw the man had a knife. Another Kombi had come along and the driver had fought off her attacker before they both escaped into town. According to Sven, they now had a description and the name Joachim, which was what he had told the young woman to call him. It wasn’t much, but it was far more than they’d had before.
6th February 1961
Near Oswiecim, Poland
The engine of the Kombi was chugging away as Job drove it down the road, a narrow band of asphalt between fields that were covered in snow. Every minute or so a gust of wind would catch the slab-sided cargo van and try to push it off the road. Job did his best to keep it in the right lane, but he supposed that it was a good thing that there wasn’t a whole lot of traffic on the road today.
That was because it was one of those days where Spring seemed like it would never come. It was bitterly cold and when the sun had come up that morning it had not become light, only slightly less grey. The snow was holding off, for now. Job didn’t wasn’t to be on the road when that changed. Fortunately for him the air-cooled engine of the Kombi didn’t mind the cold, it tended to run hot anyway so this weather suited it. Just that morning, Job had seen that one of the Opal lorries that was used by the company that employed him had its radiator freeze overnight. The Manager had been furious with the idiot who he assumed had filled it with water as opposed to antifreeze. Still, this being Upper Silesia and Southern Poland that they were operating in, it was anyone’s guess where the antifreeze had actually ended up. While Job didn’t think that any of his coworkers were crazy enough to drink it, he wouldn’t put it past them.
Job had finished the morning deliveries and was planning on having a meal in Oswiecim before getting the afternoon deliveries that were to be waiting for him in the depot there. The freight order would be in the depot or it would not, this time of the year it was a bit of a crapshoot. If it wasn’t there, then he would be perfectly happy to drive back to Hindenburg and go home early on a day like today.
That was then that Job came across the scene of an accident. A Kombi similar to the one he was driving had run off the road and through a fence before getting stuck in the snow. As Job slowed to a stop, he saw the young woman trying to get his attention. When he opened the door, the icy blast of air came as a shock after the warmth after how warm it had been in the Kombi. There was a look in her eyes, like if she were scared of something. Probably having just run off the road if Job had to guess. He was aware of the snow crunching under his feet as he walked to the side of the road.
“We have to go” The woman said frantically as she walked past him to his Kombi, “Now.”
“But weren’t you just in an accident?” Job asked in reply as he turned towards her, “Shouldn’t we wait for the authorities or at least inform the property owner about their fence.”
The woman was pulling open the door on the passenger side of his Kombi. Job was getting the impression that something was happening here that he wasn’t picking up on.
“You aren’t just going to abandon your Kombi out here, are you?” Job asked.
“It’s not my…” The woman started to say, but then the look on her face became one of total horror as she looked past Job.
With that much warning Job barely managed to deflect the blow upwards, so the knife missed his neck. Instead, the injury he had suffered nearly two decades earlier saved his life. When the shell fragment had punched through his skull it had left a depressed fracture. The surgeons had been unable to do anything about the sliver of metal lodged in his brain, but after cleaning up the fracture they had installed a stainless-steel plate to protect the weakened portion of his skull. It was of far sterner stuff than mere bone so instead of being killed, the knife hit steel and leaving him with a superficial cut on his scalp. When Job spun on his heel and threw a punch that connected with his attacker’s face, he heard a satisfying crunch even as pain blossomed in his hand. Job had never been a weak man and while his injury might have damaged his mind, there was nothing wrong with his ability to hold his own in a fight.
In the corner of his eye he saw the woman climbing into his Kombi. The man who Job had just punched was scrambling to get back to his own vehicle. He could remember the Feldwebel who had led his Squad saying that there were times when he needed to know when it was time to fall back. Job’s head was hurting and he could feel blood trickling down his neck from the cut on his scalp. This was one of those times. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Job started driving in the direction of Oswiecim. The woman was fearfully staring at Job, waiting to see what he was going to do. Seeing her up close, he realized that she was younger than he had thought, little more than a girl. He also saw that one of the knuckles on his right hand looked misshapen. He would need to have it seen to.
Tempelhof, Berlin
It was early evening when Kat received the call from Sven. After months of frustration, they finally had a break in the case. A young woman had excepted a ride from a stranger into town because she didn’t want to walk because there was a winter storm blowing in. When she became suspicious of the driver of the Kombi and had the presence of mind to grab ahold of the steering wheel, deliberately running the Kombi into a field when she saw the man had a knife. Another Kombi had come along and the driver had fought off her attacker before they both escaped into town. According to Sven, they now had a description and the name Joachim, which was what he had told the young woman to call him. It wasn’t much, but it was far more than they’d had before.
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Unfortunately, I didn't and fell immediately for PM trailing his coat as were. Should have known better!
Edit:Typo