Chapter One Thousand Six Hundred Seventeen
8th March 1964
Mitte, Berlin
Sitting in the hospital waiting to have the police walk in at any second while the Doctors kept him under observation had been nerve wracking. They kept going on about how they thought that while the concussion and rib fractures were not life threatening, they were left concerned because of their observations of his heart and blood pressure. He couldn’t tell them the truth, that he was stressed out because he was waiting for the axe to fall. And as he figured out over the following days, he had no idea as to which direction it was going to come from.
Mithras kept thinking that while he had been unconscious, someone may have found the envelope in his coat pocket and reported it. The BII Division of the Federal Police would have all sorts of questions about how a student still living with his parents could have that sort of money in his pocket. The inevitable questions about the auditor would see him thrown into a prison cell.
That never happened.
Instead, when Mithras finally got his coat back, he discovered that the envelope was gone. All sorts of possibilities ran through his mind, the most likely being that one of the dozens of people who had tried to help him while he was unconscious had discovered the contents and helped themselves to the money. Then it hit him, he had no idea who the Auditor who had the Financier’s nickers in a twist even was, he had never gotten the chance to look. How was he supposed to deal with that man? If Mithras had gotten busted, he would have had an excuse for his inaction with the Financier.
Mithras was starting to realize that unless he figured out what had happened to that envelope he was screwed unless he thought of something fast.
Wilmington, Delaware
The first week of March was overcast and unseasonably warm, a reminder that Spring was in the process of happening. There was simply too much to do around the yard and Frank Lawson understood it was too much to take on by himself. Midge had the bright idea that hiring the son of one of his employees to help out was a great idea. That was why he had Joe Junior cleaning up a winter’s worth of dog crap, deadfall and who knew what else that had revealed itself as the snow had melted had to cleared from the lawn. Joe Senior was one of the Salesmen on the car lot that Frank owned, Junior was a student at the University of Delaware and was saving up to spend the upcoming Spring Break in the Bahamas.
When Joe had driven his old Chevy up the driveway that morning, Frank wondered if he had made a mistake. His initial judgement was that Joe was a bit of a lunkhead and the fact that he spoke with a slight stammer didn’t help matters. The saving grace was that the boy seemed to be a hard worker.
“So, Midge is talking about going on another international trip this year” Frank said, “I’ve put her off for the last few years, but now she found out that when went to Europe our tour guide in the German Imperial War Museum was a renegade Princess.”
“Th… That happen often, Sir?” Joe asked.
“No” Frank replied, “It was just a coincidence, but Midge thinks that she could just walk up to Princess Kristina and ask if she remembers us.”
Joe just shrugged.
Frank knew that he was just venting, he remembered how the Germans had depicted the US Army in that museum. In Frank’s thinking whoever had set that up was typical of what he had encountered over there. Arrogant and presumptuous, the Germans seemed to think that the entire world revolved around them. Still, they were not as bad as the French. Frank had found Paris to be particularly disagreeable. He had not been there five minutes before he had heard the term “La grande trahison Américaine” and had made the mistake of asking what that meant. He had gotten an earful and all of it had been offensive. It seemed that the French had not forgotten the role that the United States had played in the First World War.
Now Midge wanted to go back because she had actually enjoyed herself on that vacation. “There is so much culture and history there” was how she had termed it and this year she wanted to go to Rome and Constantinople as well. All Frank could see was that it would probably cost a mint.
Wilhelm Station
One of the features of the Panzer VII Lynx was that the tracks actually had lower ground pressure than human feet. The Raupenschlepper Arktis, or simply RSA, was based on the hull of the Lynx for exactly that reason. That was where the similarities ended. Without the need for guns or tons of armor, a cab and cargo bay had been built atop the hull and the entire thing had been painted high visibility orange. Louis found himself learning to drive one of the RSAs and he was learning that it was very different from steering a car. The steering wheel, clutch and gas pedals were supposedly identical to those found in the Lynx.
“I’ll be fit to join the Panzer Corps as a driver when I get back home” Louis said and the Noncommissioned Officer who had been teaching him just looked annoyed.
It was in keeping with something that Louis had noticed since he had arrived in Antarctica. Everyone here seemed to exist solely in the present moment. Tomorrow might as well not exist and next year was a whimsical fantasy.