Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread II

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Eighteen


17th March 1959

Mitte, Berlin

No one needed to tell Zella that John Lennon was a bit of an ass. His comments about Kiki being a “poor little rich girl” certainly were a reminder of that. He had heard the way that Kiki spoke and had discerned her aristocratic background without knowing the full extent of it. The old and tattered clothes that she had been wearing, basically her pajamas, and her protestations that she was “no one” didn’t impress John in the least. At the time, Zella had been more concerned by Kiki’s ghastly appearance. She had looked like death and that hacking cough that she had tried to hide from them hadn’t helped.

Afterwards, Zella had heard John’s comments and had tried to explain how wrong that was. He’d had none of it. “Everyone knows that you are Marchioness von Holz, and no one holds that against you. Your friend, whatever she really is, is not what she presents herself as. He had said, “Just the fact that you know her from school is proof of that.”

That was a rather astute bit of logic that Zella hadn’t realized until it had been pointed out to her. No matter how progressive it tried to make itself, the exclusive nature of the Gymnasia that she had attended would make it obvious that Kiki was from wealth, Zella’s comment about how she outranked her socially suddenly seemed like an extremely stupid thing to have said. Paul had been apologetic, “He’s one of those people who has difficulty compromising and people being inauthentic is one of the things that really gets his goat” is what he had said about John.

On Sunday afternoon she had seen the band leave for the airport after shadowing to two days. Now, on Monday afternoon Zella was typing up her notes to give to the reporter as background to the interviews that he had conducted on Saturday morning. Her mother said that this was merely the first step if Zella pursued a career in Journalism. One day she would be writing features and not just in Arts & Entertainment if she wanted. It seemed odd because Zella had realized that she didn’t have the first clue as to what she wanted.

Oddly, that was where Kiki came into it again. The exciting news that Kiki had was that her father had offered to send her on a holiday to the South of France or Italy. According to Kiki, Gräfin Katherine had told her to act her age for once and behave like a seventeen-year-old with an expense account. When Zella had told her mother about that, she had feigned horror at the very idea. Then Zella had said that Kiki had extended an invitation to her and Aurora to accompany her. Then Zella’s mother had sternly warned her against taking advantage of her friend. Suddenly a few weeks away from her daily life seemed like a very good idea.


Camp Hale, Near Leadville, Colorado

Being back here as a senior Noncom was a very different experience for Jonny then when he had first been here. The 10th Mountain was still present, and they did most of their training here. The 1st SFG was expanding, so they were training a number of promising volunteers. The reasons for that expansion was unknown, just that it had been approved at the highest levels and the Brass were playing their cards close to their vests. It was no secret that the Green Berets were not universally loved by the powers that be. So, whatever was coming their way had been enough to override the usual sort of complacency that existed in the Pentagon. Long experience had taught Jonny that when he learned the details, he wasn’t going to like it.

It was a good thing that he had plenty of the recruits to vent his frustrations on. The entire idea of the training process was to ruthlessly sort out those who could make the cut from those who couldn’t. Basically, a First Sergeant like Jonny was being encouraged to be his absolute worst. Not that he needed much encouragement. It was when he was standing outside the Mess Hall that one of them made a stupid mistake.

“Care to repeat that Runt” Jonny snarled at the stupid kid. Eighteen years old and with the sort of attitude that came with having grown up in Southern California, two things that Jonny hated. Somehow, the kid had been stuck with the handle “Runt” and it certainly fit. Skinny and having the height that was typical of those with Runt’s background. Jonny had made Runt his Squad’s Gunner and had watched the kid stagger under the weight of the ammunition and the B.A.R. Sixer that was now part of the standard equipment of the Green Beret. The light automatic rifle was anything but light. To Jonny’s surprise the kid had risen to the occasion where others had buckled.

Runt mumbled something different in California Spanish, a big fucking mistake.

“Bullshit!” Jonny yelled in Runt’s face, “I happen to speak Mexican you little shit!”

Runt realized too late that he’d overstepped as the rest of his Squad abruptly attempted to distance themselves from him. It was common knowledge that almost all the Noncoms had served in Mexico.

“Care to guess which Squad just volunteered to do KP for the rest of the week?” Jonny asked. They were too exhausted to react to that beyond weary resignation.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Nineteen


7th April 1959

Mitte, Berlin

“I have been getting enough sleep and eating” Kiki said crossly, annoyed at having to explain that again. Doctor Berg had been after her for weeks about taking care of herself and she had refused to just take Kiki’s word that she was. Unfortunately, Kiki’s father and stepmother shared Berg’s perspective and they had given her an earful over it when Kiki had had dinner with them the previous Sunday. Now with the Easter holiday coming, Kiki was being strongly encouraged to do as little as possible.

“They only ask because I care about you” Leni said as she fussed over a pile of paperwork. “And you aren’t the only one who gets questions like that, I hear it too.”

They were sitting in the small alcove in the basement of the Berlin Central Library that Leni used as an office. With the exception of Leni’s desk, every horizontal space was occupied by books on every imaginable subject. As the Assistant Curator, Leni had access to a staggering amount of rare and unusual texts from every era. Unfortunately for her that access came with a blizzard of paperwork and documentation to contend with. Because Leni had been out for a few months on maternity leave she had a huge backlog of that to be taken care of.

“But in your case, it is only your direct family that you need to contend with” Kiki said, “My life gets treated like if it’s a matter of National interest.”

Word had gotten out that Kiki had landed in the hospital with pneumonia the previous month and the newspapers had run with it. It wasn’t helped when one of her Instructors, Kiki didn’t know which one, had told them that she was one of the more dedicated and hardworking of his students. While he hoped she got better swiftly, he was concerned that she pushed herself too hard.

“And if you were a boy your actions would be lauded” Leni replied, “But you aren’t, so you get to be the at the center of both condemnation and concern.”

Leni got what Kiki was saying, it was just that Kiki was finding it a bitter pill to swallow. Leni had needed to fight a battle of her own to come back to work. Her husband was a Cardiologist who made an extremely good living and he had not understood Leni’s need for a career.

“It’s just that I want to be left alone” Kiki said, “Is that too much to ask for?”

“Are you asking as Kiki, the girl from Potsdam or as Princess Kristina of Prussia?” Leni asked, “Because either way I think you already know the answer to that.”

“That’s not something I asked for” Kiki said.

“I didn’t ask for a lot of things” Leni said, “But I got them anyway. I wish I could tell you that I had the answers, but I don’t.”

“Aren’t you a Librarian?” Kiki asked in reply, “Answers are your profession.”

“I can refer you to several books of philosophy” Leni said, “Beyond that, the rest is up to you.”

Kiki frowned, why did she always get told things like that.


Camp Hale, Near Leadville, Colorado

“Someone back in Los Angeles doesn’t like you Corporal Valenzuela” Parker said, “The only conclusion I can reach is that you are either stupid or sentimental. Which is it?”

It was what Parker had discovered when he had looked into the past of the man who had been dubbed Runt. He was a year younger than what his records had said, and he had apparently been more or less chased out of the community that he had lived in at the time he had enlisted in the Army. He had then gone to the 82nd Airborne in at Fort Devens in upstate Massachusetts where he had spent most of the previous year. It was a sequence of events that raised a lot of questions. Despite what the Brass might have believed, it was the senior Noncommissioned Officers who had last say in who got let into the 1st SFG.

“We know that you lied about your age to enlist, and that when the heat got too much at Fort Devens you volunteered to come here” Jonny said, “We also know that your entire enlistment bonus went to your family.”

Like any of the others who had come to Camp Hale and had made it to this point, Runt knew that it was these last gatekeepers who determined if he got sent back to his old Unit or not. He was understandably reluctant to answer their questions.

“Your mother said a lot to me” Parker said, “She said that it was one of your brothers who you took the heat for. That the local cops were looking to have you shot while trying to escape.”

It was perfectly in keeping with Jonny’s experience with the cops in California. Boneheads and bigots looking for simple answers to complex problems. Runt’s brother gets into a fight and the local police can’t find him, so they declare open season on someone who they can find. The younger brother who they knew would be coming to school the next morning. Runt had made the only possible choice when he had gotten out of Dodge.

“You’ve been running ever since kid” Jonny said, “There is no place in this outfit for that, you’ve nowhere left to run. The question for us is if you understand that thing against your back is the damned wall.”

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty


14th April 1959

Moscow, Russia

As Gia walked out onto the tarmac, she was amazed by the size of the new airliner from Ilyushin. The big four-engine turboprop was entering service with Aeroflot and it marked the return of the Russian aviation industry to the world stage. In a few hours it would depart with a cabin full of passengers to the Russian Far East. The booming economy in that distant corner of Russia made it an extremely desirable destination for the national carrier. The new airplane had the speed and range to reduce the travel time considerably. When Georgy had made his plans to tour the Far East and Siberia in the coming summer this airplane had been a major factor. People in distant places like Vladivostok, Novosibirsk, Irkutsk and Krasnoyarsk would see the Czar in person. It would be the first time in history that such a thing had happened in that manner.

Gia herself had plenty to contend with at home, so she wouldn’t be going. Mercifully, Fyodor would be going with Georgy, so that would be one less headache to contend with. Anya, curse her, had discovered that boys existed and all it took was a smile from her and they became thoughtless blobs of gelatin. That was the reason why Gia had found herself having to talk to Anya in exactly the same way that Aunt Marcella and Kat had to her years earlier. It was not a pleasant experience. It wasn’t helped by Kat telling her that she needed to let her guard down with Fyodor, just enough to see if his intentions are genuine. This was at a time when she was having to constantly tell Anya that she needed to keep her guard up. From an early age Gia had known that life wasn’t fair, but the sick irony of it all was galling. Then there was Kat mentioning that Kiki was complaining to anyone who would listen about how difficult her life had become. Kat had thought that was the funniest she had heard in her life. When Gia had pointed out that Kiki was putting aside her social life and had been spending every waking moment working because she had learned that behavior from Kat, it had basically ended the conversation.

“It is an honor to have you aboard Grand Duchess Sasha” The Stewart said as she entered the door into the cabin. Gia just smiled in return. The cockpit was typical of what she had seen over the years. According to the pilot who was giving the tour the distances involved and the isolation of many of the locations the aircraft would fly to, the airplane would have a dedicated navigator. Gia saw the seat across from the flight engineer’s station. It seemed like a practical consideration.

Sitting down in one of the first-class seats, Gia just looked out the window at the airport operations that were always moving at a fever pitch. In a few hours, this airplane would be high in the clouds. All the problems on Earth would seem remote.

“As you can see, we will transport 84 passengers comfortably” The pilot said, interrupting Gia’s thoughts and answering a question she hadn’t asked.

“Thank you” Gia replied, and she heard the click of a camera. Come to think of it, Kiki had every right to complain about the goldfish bowl that was her life. Gia had certainly been happier when the world had thought that she had died with her family and she had been living anonymously in Berlin.


Camp Hale, Near Leadville, Colorado

It wasn’t Runt’s winning personality or his stammering answers to the questions that Jonny and Parker had ruthlessly subjected him to that got him in. It was that the Green Beret needed native Spanish speakers because it was figured that with the Kaiserliche Marine operating a Naval Base at Rio Gallegos in Argentina things would be getting hot south of the Rio Grande over the next decade. He hadn’t said it, but Jonny had been sorely tempted to tell the Captain, “No shit.” Anyone who had been in Mexico had seen with their own eyes what awaited them if the problems down there didn’t start to be taken seriously.

It wasn’t just the Krauts either, there were a thousand different interests that were jockeying for power in a region that the United States had long considered their back yard. It seemed that the property owners had something very different to say on that subject and with Cuba going the way it had, there was now a blueprint available to give the Gabachos the boot. Jonny himself had seen it. The attempted revolution in Mexico had been misguided, but it wouldn’t have gotten as far as it had without some level of local support. Someone in Washington clearly had pulled their head out of their ass long enough to realize that they needed people who could at least blend in somewhat with the locals.

All that was academic, because the 1st SFG was packing up to leave Camp Hale and return to Fort Drum in upstate New York.

“What do you think we ought to do with the kid?” Parker asked.

“Keep him on the BAR” Jonny replied. The new incarnation of the Browning Automatic Rifle was an improved version of the old one. The new 6mm cartridge meant that a shorter receiver and modern materials had lightened it somewhat from the A1. Still, it was a big, heavy chunk of steel to haul around. If Runt was going to earn his place for real, then that would be how he did it.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-One


20th April 1959

Basel, Switzerland

It was another behind the scenes meeting through back channels where the real international agreements got their start. It didn’t take a genius to know that not everyone was happy with the present order and the direction that things were moving in. The trouble was that lately the diplomats had been getting creditable threats. Louis had asked Kat to investigate the matter and he had told her to be subtle about it this time. It had been that last part that had rankled her, in the investigations that she had conducted into sexual abuse she had seen how it only took a guilty conscience to cause certain individuals to flee when she had arrived even if it was for an unrelated matter. Eventually, Kat had been forced to conclude that Cosimo de’ Medici had been right when he had said that she wasn’t the right person to investigate such matters. She had enjoyed nailing a certain kind of man to the wall and her objectivity had been questioned. Not to mention that it did nothing to help the general distrust that she felt around most men. Still, she had discovered that it was better to be seen as an investigator of delicate matters for the emperor, as opposed to having people whisper that she was the Royal assassin. It was perfectly in keeping with her role as Obersthofmeisterin to Charlotte, who needed all the help she could get these days.

Today, that involved babysitting a Diplomat as he discussed what the AA was referring to as the Grand Project with his counterparts from other nations. When the number of sheep in Northern Italy, steel production in the Ruhr or the minute details of any other commodity were discussed at mind-numbing length Kat tended to tune it out. She knew what the price of bread and cheese were. Because she had personally seen produce unloaded from boxcars countless times and grain loaded onto hopper cars in various ports, she knew there was an international dimension to those things. However, the discussions on those matters was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Instead, Kat was sitting where she could see the entrance of the street café that the diplomats were having an informal meeting in. She was trying not to think about the tactical difficulties that this location presented. The ground floor was open, bay windows on one side and the door to the kitchen on the other. Outside was a busy street with lots of foot and vehicle traffic. She wasn’t happy about this choice of locations.

“We don’t need the tigress here today Gräfin” Herr Zeigler, the Senior Diplomat she was minding said. “We are all friends here.”

“It is not here that I am worried about” Kat replied, “It’s out there, not everyone is a friend.”

She nodded towards the street.

“The Swiss Police are more than up to the task” Zeigler said.

Kat had to struggle to keep her face from betraying what she thought about that comment. The Swiss had taken a very dim view of her bringing weapons across the border, especially after they had somehow learned what had happened the previous time she had been in Switzerland. They had made it clear that she was to have no more than what was usually appropriate for a protection detail. As for the local police, they had increased foot patrols in the neighborhood. The complacency was unnerving.


Fort Drum, New York

It was the latest gift from Langley.

The film was a war movie set somewhere in Eastern Germany during the Soviet War featuring a small band of soldiers as they retreated through urban and forested settings. It was the night’s entertainment, if one didn’t object to reading a whole lot of subtitles. To a normal American audience, the depictions of graphic violence, gore and consequences of it would truly be shocking. Particularly the part when the film showed the means by which the Soviets cleared defensive works like minefields according to whoever had produced the film.

On reflection, Jonny realized except for the last assault up the mountain in Mexico that nothing he had experienced reached the level of intensity that what was being depicted on the screen. In Mexico, he had been attacking a depleted force that was running low on food and ammunition. In the battle he was seeing depicted, one side was falling back on their own supply lines, so they had plenty of everything. Against such a force even the 10th Mountain would have had a serious problem. The Russians seemed to have thrown bodies at guns until they jammed or ran out of ammunition. Jonny didn’t know if it was German propaganda to depict the Russians as mindless hordes “led” by cruel functionaries with guns to their backs who would shoot them if they attempted to retreat. To him, that all seemed a bit extreme.

The film ended with the survivors of the outfit followed in the film crossing a bridge that was blown up in the face of the Soviet Army. It was then that the kid sister of one of the Sergeants of all people shows up with two trucks full of supplies for them, so it had a happy ending. That was when Jonny knew that the film was pure, unadulterated bullshit. There was no way that a teenage girl would be allowed to do something like that. In real life they spent the following night in a cold foxhole and had years of war still to look forward to.

“Is war really like that?” Runt asked. Jonny had forgotten the kid for a couple of hours.

“Yes and no” Jonny replied, to Runt’s complete bewilderment.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Two


26th April 1959

Mitte, Berlin

Comparing the differences between the two Empresses was something that Kat had found herself doing even though she knew that it was a foolish thing to do. The first thing she noticed was that relative age of those present was very different. With Kira, Kat had usually been one of the youngest women present. Now among those who Charlotte surrounded herself with Kat was one of the oldest at the age of thirty-eight. The second thing was that the attitudes towards education and careers were far different. While Kira had been generally supportive of those things, the practice had been different story. Charlotte herself had been a Social Worker in Vienna before she had gotten involved with Louis Ferdinand. Thirdly, the strict formality that Kira had insisted on was gone. While it wasn’t rambunctious, the Court seemed to have a lot more laughter in it and the topics of conversation tended to be free flowing. The final difference was that Charlotte had encouraged Kat to bring Tatiana with her today.

Having grown bored, Tat was discussing her life excitedly with Charlotte. Mostly about how her brother Malcolm was a pain and her little sister Marie was always grabbing things. Tat also mentioned her dog and the house she lived in. Charlotte herself wasn’t too involved with the conversation, content to simply listen to Tatiana. She was presently seven months pregnant and had been advised to not exert herself in any way. Because of her age this first baby would probably also be her last. At eight Tatiana wasn’t quite old enough to understand what was going on. She had bought the broadest possible explanations a few years earlier when Kat had Marie, but now she was growing more inquisitive as she grew older. Doug found it all amusing. He said that Tatiana asking uncomfortable questions was proof that she was truly her mother’s daughter. A nice sour note there. Kat found herself wishing that Marie would be different, more like Doug than her. However, unlike Tatiana and Malcolm, Marie looked very similar to what Kat had looked like decades earlier, so Kat wasn’t hopeful.

“Why don’t you go see what Vicky and Rea are up to” Charlotte suggested to Tatiana, who smiled and ran off. Kat knew that the twin Princesses were divided in their opinion of their stepmother. Rea had visceral dislike of Charlotte, while her younger sister Vicky clearly wanted to be close. However, because they tried to maintain a united front against the world, they had both been cold towards Lotte.

“I’m sorry” Kat said, “Tat can be a bit much.”

Lotte just smiled at that, “I would say that you are very lucky” She said, “Tatiana seems like a well-adjusted child.”

“I’ve done my best, but…” Kat started to say.

“Don’t torture yourself Katherine” Lotte said, “My hope is that this one turns out so well.” She gestured towards her belly.

Kat knew that Louis Ferdinand and Charlotte both were concerned about what would happen when the baby was born. It was a State secret, but Kat was aware that it was expected to be a girl. Beyond that, there were risks associated with Charlotte’s age. Kat knew that no matter what happened, the baby would be welcomed by two loving parents. She only needed to see what was going on with Louis’ oldest sister, Alexandrine, to see that even the worst sort of things might happen, she would be well cared for.


Washington D.C.

“You’ve met both Johannes and Katherine von Mischner” Gloria said, “That thing with the trucks really happened. That film didn’t call her by name because no one at the Babelsberg Studios wants to antagonize the Countess. What business did you have watching German war movies?”

That was a bit of a surprise, but Gloria would know because she had been writing a biography of the Countess. So far, she had uncovered a great deal of surprising information from public sources on this side of the Atlantic.

“I was unaware of that” Jonny replied, “It was in a film that we watched last week as entertainment. Intelligence thinks we ought to learn something from them about how outfits like the Panzer Dragoons think.”

Gloria gave Jonny the usual look she gave him whenever he mentioned his career. While they had been mutually attracted to each other from the moment they met, the two of them didn’t pretend to understand what the other one did for a living. It was honest, but it did result in moments like this. The night before, Jonny had gone to a dinner party hosted by friends of Gloria’s. It had seemed like they were speaking a different language from him. Figuring that he was in hostile territory, Jonny had just listened and observed. He had basically come down in complete support of what Gloria did, she was a journalist and her political stances were hardly out of the ordinary compared to what Jonny had grown up with in Petaluma. His mother had a job that required him to stay at his maternal grandmother’s house most days from his earliest memories. So, what was the big deal?

That had apparently been the right thing to have said from Gloria’s perspective. Then the question had turned to what Jonny did, that had been a bit awkward. He had said that he worked logistics at Fort Drum. Gloria knew that was hogwash, but she also knew that there was a reason why he couldn’t mention the 1st SFG in mixed company. Later, she had said that it was absurd that he had this interesting, adventurous career but couldn’t talk about it.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Three


1st May 1959

Mitte, Berlin

When the Easter Holiday arrived, Kiki had been informed that all the students in the dormitory were being told to pack their things and go home. Apparently, so that the building could be fumigated. Kat had said that it was long past time that she made peace with her family and had refused to let her stay with her over the holiday. That was why Kiki had been forced return to her suite in the Hohenzollern Palace. Sitting on the couch watching television with her cat Hera on her lap was how she spent the last several days and was planning on doing so until the dormitory reopened. Today, she had found herself sitting across from Charlotte who was chaffing under the forced inactivity resulting from her present condition. The silly soap opera that was on wasn’t the sort of thing that Kiki would normally watch but it being in the middle of the day, there was nothing else to watch.

“I don’t see what Thea sees in Freiherr von Schwein” Kiki said, “He just treats her like furniture.” Commenting on the absurd plot of the show. If a man treated Kiki like that then she would acquaint him with the business end of a goose gun, and he would spend the rest of his life singing in soprano.

Lotte snorted at that. “I’ve known women twice your age who haven’t figured out that tall, dark and handsome is most often accompanied with soulless narcissism” She said, “And that is not the name of the character.”

“Are you saying that women are stupid?” Kiki asked, not responding to the last part.

“No” Lotte replied, “Just never underestimate the power of people to delude themselves and remember that no one is immune to that sort of thing.”

“I know I wouldn’t put up with that” Kiki said only to have Lotte look at her sadly.

“I meant what I said about no one being immune” Lotte said, “I knew a woman in Vienna who was a lot like you. Educated, driven and accomplished, she had a blind spot for her husband who was none of those things. He took out his frustrations by beating her to the extent that she ended up in the hospital. That was when I was introduced to her.”

Kiki knew about Charlotte’s career before she had met her father. For someone in her position to take on such a job, where she consistently saw the absolute worst in human nature when she had no reason to. Because she wanted to help people… Then Kiki realized that she could also be described that way. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about.

“You were able to help her?” Kiki asked.

“I certainly tried” Lotte replied, “But that was a difficult case and it ended very badly. You notice that I am talking about her in the past tense.”

“Oh” Kiki said, unsure how to respond to that. She remembered the first day she had started training to be a Medic. In the first lecture delivered by one of her Instructors, the class had been told that despite their training and the best efforts that they could bring to bear they were still going to lose people occasionally. It was inevitable and that was a reality that they needed to be prepared for.

“Your sisters are such dears” Lotte said changing the subject, it was enough to make Kiki doubt her sanity and she wondered what had prompted that thought. Vicky and Rea were many things, “dears” would not be the word that anyone who knew truly knew them would use. “Your father made it very clear that they would be on the receiving end of whatever punishment that Gräfin Katherine deems fit if they get her daughter into any sort of trouble” Lotte finished with a satisfied look on her face.

That was an aspect to all this that Kiki had never thought of. They had known Kat’s daughter Tatiana since she had been born and Tat was a wide-eyed innocent, the very definition of impressionable. Kiki’s father telling Rea and Vicky that he wouldn’t protect them from the Tigress if they said or did something stupid was alarming. Charlotte encouraging Tat to play with them despite the five-year age difference had to be driving the two of them insane.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Kiki asked.

“Your sisters are not as clever as they like to think” Lotte replied.

That sounded about right. For all their lives, it had been Vicky and Rea against the world. The present divide between them over Charlotte wasn’t as bad as when Rea had cut her hair a couple years earlier and suddenly even people who didn’t know them well had been able to tell them apart. Rea had wanted Vicky to cut her hair as well and had been given a very emphatic no in reply. It had not a pleasant experience for them. Kiki suspected that the differences between them would grow in the coming years and it was understandable why they would fight that tooth and nail. Unfortunately for them, that battle had caused them to underestimate Charlotte.

“How very clever of you” Kiki said.

“Please don’t tell them” Lotte said, “I hate to think about how they might respond.”

“You don’t need to worry about that” Kiki replied, “Someone getting the better of those two is something that needs to happen more often.”

Charlotte smiled before the expression on her face changed and her hand went to her belly. “I think we have a budding footballer in there” She said.

“Anything else?” Kiki asked as she wracked her brain if any of the things that she had learned over the last several months were relevant. Even as she did it, she realized that it would be something that she would need to bring up with Doctor Berg.

“No, this is normal” Lotte replied, “You’ll get your chance to find out one day.”

Over my dead body, Kiki thought to herself. She hated it when people made comments like that.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Four


4th May 1959

New York City, New York

The offices of Haywood, Beckett and Gleason had not changed one bit in the years since Nancy had been here last. It still remained exactly the sort of place that she went out of her way to avoid. Mostly she had been remained in contact with Gerald Beckett and Clive Heywood through the wonders of modern communications.

The personal office of Heywood, where Nancy was waiting was a mixture self-congratulatory posturing and shameless self-promotion. On the wall were dozens of framed photographs with celebrities from both sides of the Atlantic with Heywood. Actors, politicians, athletes and authors. Front and center, there was a picture of Heywood and a woman who was presumably Mrs. Heywood with the Queen of England. Not posed, just them introducing themselves. Becket had once told Nancy that Heywood was a bit of a royalist, that was certainly in keeping with that. It was also the reason why Nancy was present here today. Neither Beckett nor Heywood would be inclined to treat her as an equal, however Heywood’s hope was that eventually she would help him get another photograph for his wall. Namely Louis Ferdinand. The truth was that it wasn’t actually up to Nancy. While she worked as the appointed Press Agent for the German Imperial Court, she didn’t play a role in who the Emperor met with on a day to day basis. Heywood didn’t need to know that though.

“Sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Jensen. Or is it Mrs. Schultz these days?” Heywood said as he entered the office, Beckett was a pace behind him. “Busy days you know.”

“It’s still Jensen” Nancy replied, “One of the things I like about where I live is that the traditions are a bit different. Professionally, I get to be my own person.”

Nancy was inwardly delighted when she saw Heywood and Beckett’s reaction to her saying that. A few months after she had Sabastian, they had discovered that they would be dealing with her again and had been completely surprised. In their minds, a career was something that a woman was expected to give up once she got married and had children. She had made other plans. If Nancy and Tilo ever got around to deciding whether or not to have another, then the same thing was going to happen. It would be something these two relics of the dark ages would have to deal with.

“I guess that is one way to put it” Beckett replied uncomfortably. He imagined that he looked like Gregory Peck, perhaps in dim light, Nancy thought to herself. Heywood looked like a potato with twigs stuck in it that was somehow stuffed into a charcoal grey suit. She had never met Saul Gleason but assumed that he was cut of the same cloth as his two business partners.

“Whatever works for you Ms. Jensen” Heywood said, “Your family is well?”

“Yes” Nancy said, pulling a photograph out of her purse and handed it to Heywood. She had been prepared for this moment and relished the chance to put one past Heywood. The photograph was of Sabastian as he went on one of his destructive jaunts, his babysitter struggling to keep up and limit the destruction.

“A chip off the old block I see” Heywood said, “The poor girl looks in over her head.”

“I think it’s good for her” Nancy replied, “Kiki tends to have a bit too high of an opinion of herself at times.”

“I see” Heywood said as he handed the photograph back, not recognizing that the girl in the photograph was Prinzessin Kristina von Preussen. Who happened to be her babysitter whenever Nancy was in Berlin.


Berlin

It was getting late and it had turned out to be a quiet night at the V8 Club. No band was scheduled to play so Sarah was playing on the piano, riffing on Classical pieces of music that would have had their Composers reeling in despair. The ones who wouldn’t have been intrigued with what Sarah was doing that is.

Zella was taking the opportunity to sort through her notes of the two shows that she saw over the weekend. She knew that she would have to get moving soon but was reluctant to leave just yet. Her mother had actually been happy with how she had been applying herself at the newspaper lately. Not enough to relent on how strict she had been for the previous couple years, but happy, nonetheless.

That was when a shadow fell across her. Looking up she saw that it was James, the son of the Military Attaché in the United States Embassy here in Berlin. James was overweight, which was terrible combination with his hair cut in the style favored by the US military. His eyes tended to linger where they shouldn’t and not to put to fine a point on it, he made Zella’s skin crawl. He had heard about her working for the BT and had asked for her to look at his writing a few weeks earlier. Zella had been more repulsed by what he had written than she had been by him physically. This was a window into the disturbed mind of a young man who was very selfish and immature. She had returned the notebook without comment the next time she saw him. The problem was that he wanted to know her opinion about his writing and she didn’t dare tell him the truth and had been avoiding him.

“Hey Zella” James said. She couldn’t help but notice that he was trying to look down the front of her blouse. “You never did get back to me about the notebook I lent you.”

“It was different” Zella said, hoping that he would read too much into that neutral comment as she started to gather her notes. “I didn’t see anything that could be published without a great deal of additional work.”

“Oh” James said, he wasn’t happy with that answer as he watched Zella shoving her notes into her satchel bag.

“What is your deal?” James demanded, “Is it because I’m just one of the stupid Amis to you?”

No, Zella thought to herself, it wouldn’t matter where he came from so long as James was James.

As she started to leave, he grabbed her arm. Zella was trying to figure out what to do when John Elis made his presence known.

“The Lady is clearly not interested in you” Elis said, “Take a hint and let her go.”

It wasn’t what he said, but how he said it. Elis never raised his voice, but between the words there was the threat of complete destruction if James didn’t comply. It was a side of Elis that Zella had never seen before. She also noticed that all the other patrons had stopped what they were doing and were watching James with almost predatory intent. She knew that the V8 Club attracted a rough crowd most nights, but this was the first time she had seen them all focused like this. James was about to get himself killed here and was oblivious to it.

Shaking off James’ hand Zella made for the exit, her hope was to make it to her motorcycle before anyone said or did anything else.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Two Hundred Twenty-Five


6th May 1959

Mitte, Berlin

It was a very common story. A socially awkward boy interacts with a girl, develops a crush on her, confuses courtesy and kindness for interest, then proceeds make a complete ass of himself. In an effort to impress the girl, Jimmy had asked her to read a notebook of essays and poems that he had written over the previous months. Far from being impressed the girl had been repulsed and Jimmy had not taken her rebuffing him well. George pondered this as he contemplated how he was going to apologize for his son’s actions and hope that the man he was going to talk to. It would be yet one more diplomatic black eye for America if the Naval Attaché got booted out of the country, as a man with a daughter of his own, George could certainly understand why he would be steamed. Of all the girls that Jimmy could have done this with, why did he have to choose Marcella von Holz, the daughter of the Commander in Chief of the German High Command?

Jimmy had gotten pretty thoroughly worked over for acting like an idiot in a place where violence was always just under the surface and life was fairly cheap. It seemed that the seedy nightclub where teenaged Rock & Rollers rubbed shoulders with petty criminals and gangsters had a set of rules that were ruthlessly enforced. One of the big ones was that Marcella was under the protection of the owner, a man who had a lot of juice for someone in his position. Apparently, it had something to do with the friendship that the American expat had with the family of Admiral von Schmidt. Hopefully, they had managed to knock some sense into Jimmy, except George had hoped for that same thing in the past.

“Generalfeldmarschall Markgraf von Holz will see you now Captain Morrison” The Field Marshal’s aide, a tough looking Naval Officer said to George. He could see that he was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant and realized that he was looking at a mustang Officer. If this was who von Holz chose to surround himself with then George was in more trouble than he thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Me getting involved with that project is out of the question” Sarah said.

“Afraid that Zöller will learn about the little secret that you’ve kept from him and the real reason that you arranged for him to go to England for a couple years” Elis said, “Or that his wife will learn of the tryst itself. I doubt she’ll be thrilled about the rest.”

“They weren’t married yet at the time” Sarah said as she placed her hands flat on the table. While she was outwardly calm, Elis could tell that she was seething. “Please do not make light of this situation.”

Elis didn’t reply to that. Sarah had been dreading the consequences of her past actions for the last six years. She had thought that she had dodged that bullet when Zöller had gone to Frankfurt after he returned from England. Now, he was back in Berlin and had invited Sarah to a part of a new project he was starting. If Sarah got involved it would only be a matter of time before someone said something about her son. If she declined, then he would want to know why.

On top of this Johann was getting old enough to start asking questions. He had started to notice that his life with his mother, her dear friend Clara and his Uncle John was out of the ordinary. The apartments in the same building as the V8 Club were a classically “Bohemian” community that was composed of artists, musicians and all manner of free thinkers. As the only child presently in the building, he had been a bit of a favorite of many of those in the building. None of his classmate’s lives were remotely comparable.

“I want this to just go away” Sarah said.

“It doesn’t work like that” Elis said, “Sooner or later you get to face the music.”

Sarah looked at Elis with narrowed eyes. “That’s rich coming from you” She said.

“I had it happen to me once” Elis said, “I didn’t like it, so I got the Hell out of there. I didn’t have any connections or a career to keep me in San Francisco, either.”

That was one way to put it. If the local police or FBI had caught up with him anywhere in America, then it was very likely that he could be sold for scrap by the time they were through with him. Elis had been aware that he had needed to keep ahead of the cordon that was going to spring up the instant he escaped Alcatraz Prison. He had not stopped running until he had landed in Berlin. The fact that he had steadfastly avoided anything related to his old life had led the FBI to eventually conclude that he had died in the escape, having drowned in San Francisco Bay.

“There are some days that I think you entrusted me with your biography because no one is going to believe a word of it” Sarah said.

Elis just shrugged. “It’s always a good thing to have one last trick up your sleeve” He said.

The biography was set to be published by Sarah after he was safely dead and buried would be one last “Fuck you” aimed directly at the authorities in the land of his birth, his puppet masters in Berlin as well. The great outlaw would get the last word, and Elis would have his ultimate victory.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Six


11th May 1959

Tempelhof, Berlin

Someone had left the right-wing newspaper at the table and Kiki found it when she had sat down to eat with Doctor Berg.

Is Berlin the new Sodom and Gomorrah? Was what the garish headline said. The article went on to speak in obsessive detail about the supposed evils of the city. The accompanying photographs were what set Kiki off. The pictures juxtaposed among photographs of prostitutes, addicts and criminals were pictures of observant Jews, people her own age dancing in a park and small group of women walking from one class to another on a University campus. As if those things were remotely synonymous. The article decried the moral depravity of the era they were living in at length. It would have been comical if it didn’t seem to hit very close to where Kiki lived.

Berg just laughed. “It’s all a swindle” She said, “The authors of this live in the city, but are clearly pandering to those who do not. I also get the impression that they might also be concealing something else from their intended audience. Not even homosexuals think about homosexual sex this much.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing” Kiki replied.

“This isn’t amusing at all” Berg said, “But it helps to have the perspective that comes with age. Laughing is better than crying over how some things have not changed.”

“Are you saying it won’t change?”

“Small minded people leading small lives, having no more than small accomplishments, if any” Berg replied, “They are also very jealous. Making something more of themselves would be more effort than they are willing to take, so they constantly try to take others down into the muck with them. Change requires effort, you see.”

“Oh” Kiki said as she went back to the green salad Doctor Berg insisted that she eat whenever they got together for a meal. A girl who hasn’t figured out how to use her brain yet needs her elders to get her to eat something healthy, was how Berg put it.

“Then there are people like you Kristina, who want to become something more” Berg said, “You offend them just by breathing and being out without your father’s permission.”

“That sounds like something out of the Medieval Period” Kiki replied.

“The way people think hasn’t changed too much over the last few centuries” Berg said, “Too many people stop learning the instant they are no longer required to and try to use religion to fill in for the things they cannot make the effort to understand.”

“You are saying that all the worlds problems are because most people are lazy” Kiki said, it wasn’t a question.

“It just is how it is” Berg replied, “Try not to be one of them.”

Kiki was still trying to think of a response to that when two men wearing the blue formal uniforms of the First Foot entered the hospital cafeteria. They could only be there for her and she wished that her father had a different way of letting her know that he wanted something as they walked up to the table.

“Princess Kristina” One of the men said, “The Emperor has requested your immediate presence.”

As Kiki got up Berg looked at her, “Good luck” She said before she resumed eating her lunch. This wasn’t the first time that this had happened. Just that fact that is seemed not to be in the least bit surprising suggested what the real problem was.


Fort Drum, New York

There were a number of radios playing in the barracks, Rock & Roll was at odds with Country & Western and a Red Socks game that was happening in Boston that afternoon. The result was just a cacophony of noise. Parker had tried to spend some time at the typewriter that the Platoon had in the barracks for some forgotten reason. However, he had started feeling restless after having an eventful weekend and had been unable to maintain his focus.

Bravo Company of the 1st Battalion of the 1st SFG was trying to integrate the latest additions to the Company. As rule, they were mostly kids. Those without a great deal invested in whatever outfit they had been in before they had volunteered to go to Camp Hale. Having just celebrated his twenty-eighth birthday Parker wasn’t old by any standard, however he had lived a lifetime compared to them. Jonny was positively elderly compared to them at twenty-six having fought in Mexico. All of them were in their late teens and early twenties and even after they had endured what should have been the humbling experience in Colorado, they still thought they knew everything.

Into that Jonny had entered the picture and the rest of the Sergeants had taken his lead. He thought that consequences of stupidity should be painful. The additions had no idea that extended to the barracks as well, at the moment Jonny was leading a crooked poker game and was cleaning out anyone stupid enough to join in on the game.

Parker could only shake his head in disbelief and go back to composing his thoughts on the typewriter. As one of the few college graduates among the enlisted he was being pressured to take on more of a formal leadership role. Jonny would laugh his head off at the idea. There was also the aspect that the whole Army thing was supposed to be a cover for the CIA, now that had taken a life of its own. When Parker had last talked with Langley, he had been informed that the powers that be were pleased as punch with where the two of them had landed.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Seven


13th May 1959

Camp Springs Army Airfield, Maryland

The brand new Focke-Wulf 400, absurdly named for the diminutive Arctic Tern was the currently the largest airliner in existence seemed to float as it approached the runway. The eight tires of the main landing gear hit the concrete with a puff smoke and the engines roared as full reverse thrust was applied. The process played out again as the two nose wheels touched down. The four turbofan engines were a novel technology and the airliner was certain to draw a great deal of attention. It was the entire purpose of this visit. To show off. As the airliner taxied towards the space on the flight line that had been designated for it, Kiki looked out the window at the crowd that had already gathered. She saw the flash of a camera within that crowd.

“I can’t have you sulking for this entire trip” Louis said to Kiki who had brooded silently while looking out the window for almost the entire flight. “When I learned that Lotte was pregnant, I told you and your brothers that I would be needed all of you to start taking a more public role than you have been. This is what that looks like.”

“You didn’t tell us the reason for that though” Kiki said, still not looking at him, “Did you?”

“There are a lot of risks involved for your stepmother” Louis said, “That is the reason why she is unable to travel.”

“Why did you need me?” Kiki said.

“Because I figured that having you accompany me would be a chance for me to spend time with my long-lost daughter” Louis said, “This is also an excellent opportunity for you personally, get to meet people and for the world to see what an attractive, accomplished young woman you’ve grown into.”

Those words were a reminder to her that her presence on this State visit was because she had complained to her father about how the world seemed to think she was still twelve. He had decided to remedy that in the most effective way possible, by accompanying him as he traveled to Washington D.C. This trip was with the express purpose of engaging the American President on the subject of controlling the development of nuclear arms. A bit of backdoor diplomacy. As Emperor, her father was supposed to leave diplomacy to the experts. At the same time, he was well regarded among the world’s leaders, so he felt that he had a duty to at least try to open doors for dialog on difficult topics. Kiki was supposed to help with the social aspect of the trip, and she knew that she was in way over her head. She had been told that Nancy had been doing advance work, lining up interviews and media appearances, just Kiki knew from past experience that depending on other people wasn’t always the best call.

Kiki was also supposed to meet with a man named Clive Heywood and Nancy had advised her to keep her guard up and expectations low during that meeting. Who knew what had prompted Nancy to say that? But it was probably good advice and it certainly fit her time in America. Before she had left Germany, she had been briefed on what to expect by Asia as the Mistress of the Keys with Gräfin Katherine observing. It swiftly became extremely obvious that Asia absolutely hated the U.S. Government for what they had done to her and Katherine wasn’t much better. She had painted the country and its people as a bunch of backwards and barbaric hypocrites. She had said that touching down in America was like going fifty years backwards in time.

Kiki wasn’t inclined to believe that Asia wasn’t particularly rational when it came to the United States, at least at first. Then she had seen in the briefing materials that just a few weeks earlier the US Supreme Court had reached a decision that reaffirmed that women had no rights under the U.S. Constitution other than those that their husbands or fathers gave them. That seemed to validate everything that Asia had said, and Kiki felt that it was a complete load of bullshit. It also validated a portion of the Comstock Act in the process. How could a country say that discrimination against Negros was unlawful then turn around and say adult women were little more than children at best? To Kiki that all seemed absurdly illogical. When she had mentioned that to Katherine, Kiki had been strongly advised not to bring it up while she was in America. Her career would already be raising a lot of eyebrows and her opinion would only complicate things further.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sounds of the airplane’s doors being opened reached her ears. “Time to at least pretend that you are happy to be here for a few minutes” Her father said, “You’ve had the last seventeen years to have a poor attitude, try and give me a turn for once.”

“Seventeen and a half” Kiki replied.

“You know what I mean” Louis said before he opened the door to the cabin that they had been sharing and stepped out. That was quite something to see on an airplane.

With an exasperated sigh, Kiki took her grey-blue uniform tunic off the hook that it had been hanging from on its hanger and it took a bit of effort to get it to settle about her shoulders. She had not yet completed training, so there was no unit patch on the sleeve, or a service branch badge pinned to the front. Even so, there was a Merit Cross for War Aid, a Jerusalem Cross, a 3rd Class Red Cross medal and the Order of Louise pinned to the front. Kiki doubted that she had truly done a thing to earn any of those besides getting hauled to Jerusalem when she was younger. However, official records indicated that she had, so she was required to wear them when in dress uniform. At least the tunic went over the wrinkled blouse she had worn over night, Kiki thought as she buttoned it up.

Try to at least pretend, that was what her father had asked for. At that moment all she wanted was to just go home.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Eight


16th May 1959

Rock Creek Park, Washington D.C.

A seventeen-year-old with a chip on her shoulder, who had who knew what sort of poison dripped into her ears by her elders was an international incident waiting to happen. Nancy’s worries were offset somewhat by Kiki’s inclination towards being nice. She hadn’t said or done anything untoward, yet anyway. It wasn’t helped by the usual sort of idiocy that infested Washington D.C. Anyone who said the Supreme Court wasn’t composed of politicians in black robes was deluding themselves. They had recently tried to side-step a direct challenge to the State of Michigan’s restrictive vice laws by ruling that the plaintiff in the case lacked standing. In their clumsy attempt to avoid making a definitive decision about a contentious issue, they had sited a late Nineteenth Century case that had some of the most odious quotes about women imaginable associated with it. Informed women everywhere were outraged by what had happened and regrettably that included Kiki herself.

Nancy had spoken with Kiki about it and had convinced her that the American public didn’t want to hear about the times they fell short of their ideals by a teenaged visitor. At the same time, Nancy was very much aware that an outsider’s perspective was probably clearer than that of people who had spent their entire lives living on the inside. Not that the view from the inside was much better when one knew what they were looking at. Nancy had gotten an earful of woe when she had made the mistake of calling her friend Beatrice in Portland. Beatrice was convinced that her husband Ross was having another affair and she was terrified that she was pregnant again. Thirty-two years-old, five children and trapped in a loveless marriage because in Oregon getting a divorce required moving Heaven and Earth. Even if she was successful in giving Ross the boot, the odds were very high that Beatrice would lose everything in the process. If Nancy had wanted to be mean, she would have asked if this was a part of what Beatrice had been expecting when she had gotten married right out of school. At the moment, all Nancy wanted to do was go home and not have to think of any of this.

This afternoon, watching Kiki interact with a group of girl scouts in their green and white uniforms in was a reminder that she actually was good at this. The girls were eating it up as Kiki told them about enduring military training and her ambition to become a Surgeon of Emergency Medicine eventually. She was wearing the conservative civilian clothes that Kiki tended to wear whenever she didn’t wear some sort of uniform. With her glasses and slightly unkempt curly hair, she just looked like an ordinary collegiate. The ideas she represented were quite radical for America though. Aside from Nancy, no one else present had any idea that the dark blue beret that she was wearing to contain her hair was a sign that she was in the Militärischer Sanitätsdienst. Perhaps if Beatrice had met the likes of Kiki early on then perhaps her life would have changed for the better.

Presently, Kiki was sitting on a picnic table with the girls around her on a warm spring day. Every few minutes Kiki would say something and there be giggling. She certainly knew her audience, Nancy had to give her that much. The girls had loads of questions. Was Kiki really a Princess? Did she have a boyfriend? Did she live in a castle? Where her friends like her? Kiki was answering their questions patiently.

Yes, she was the Princess of Prussia. No, she didn’t have a boyfriend at the moment. Then she mentioned her dearest friends, Zella and Aurora. Zella was the daughter of a Markgraf, something that resulted in her getting a collective blank look, then she said Margrave and it happened again. Giving up on trying to explain that, Kiki said that Aurora’s parents were artists and that she envied the relative freedom that her ordinary friends had. The girls had not understood what she meant by that. Then Kiki was asked why she talked so funny. There was a bit of nervous tittering during the second or two it took Kiki to formulate a response to that. Most of these girls would be unlikely to encounter someone from Germany in America these days and had no idea that Prussia was even a place within it. In good humor Kiki said it was because she was from a far-away land with castles but no dragons. That resulted in giggling. Then Kiki spoke to them in rapid fire German, followed by French and Russian, describing what she was doing in the park. The girls were back to staring at her, unsure how to respond to that as she asked them if they had additional questions. They had dozens.

The meeting with Clive Heywood had gone nowhere near as well. Mrs. Heywood had come with her husband and had been absolutely giddy at the prospect of meeting Princess Kristina. The reality was far different than what they had been expecting. Mrs. Heywood was a big fan of the pageantry of the sort that Kiki abhorred. There had been an awkward moment when Kiki had explained that rather than being introduced to Berlin Society when she was sixteen, she had decided that the Joint Medical Service would be a better use of her time and cost the family trust considerably less money. The plans that her younger sisters were making were going to bankrupt the family trust, so her father needed all the help he could get. It was impossible to tell if Kiki was joking or not. Nancy knew Marie and Victoria and she wouldn’t put it past them to demand something extravagant for when they turned sixteen. Mrs. Heywood had no idea about any of that.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Twenty-Nine


18th May 1959

Over the Mid-Atlantic

Kristina had fallen asleep wrapped in the white wool blanket with brightly colored stripes that had been a gift from the First Lady of the United States. Louis could see the cloth tag that was stitched onto one corner that said Pendleton Woolen Mills. She had been looking out the window, so her glasses were hanging off the tip of her nose. Louis gently lifted them off her nose and placed them on the table next to the glass of fruit juice that Kristina had forgotten about. Kristina murmured something and fell back asleep. Without the glasses and in the dim light of the cabin, Kristina looked a bit like she had years earlier when she had been a child. Even then she had been opinionated and difficult, her need to ask questions overcoming her being inherently shy. She would do that until the adult she was talking to would eventually flee. It many ways she was still the same. Just the topics had changed, and the questions were frequently mixed with complaints these days.

It had been the questions and complaints that had been why Louis had been reluctant to bring her along after Charlotte and Katherine had suggested it. The whole purpose of this trip was to express solidarity on the world stage, show the American people that they were not demons from the pits of Hell and whatnot. Of course, Charlotte couldn’t travel at the moment. Of Louis’ children, Friedrich would have been perfect except he was unavailable because of his posting in Vietnam. Michael had decided to become the paragon of the Panzer Corps and he was all too likely to fit the stereotype of what too many people thought Germany was about, like if it had been frozen in amber sometime late in the previous century. Kiki was a good choice, but only if she could manage to behave herself. Louis Junior was too young and even if they were older, Louis would never consider taking the twins anywhere on anything like this. Sending Marie and Victoria anywhere requiring diplomacy might as well be a declaration of war.

So, as it had turned out, Kristina had been the best choice available. Though, Louis knew that the last thing needed was his daughter creating an ugly scene on the international stage. Katherine had said that once Kristina understood what was at stake, she would do what was expected of her. It had turned out that was the case, however Louis had spent much of the trip expecting to get a report of Kristina having made some comment that had outraged the sensibilities of their American hosts.

Mostly, Kristina had acquitted herself well. The Press had been on hand for the various things that she had done, and the Americans had this odd fascination with Royalty. It was obvious to anyone that Kristina was no fairytale Princess, instead she was an academic and something of an introvert. Frequently a question was met with no more than a nervous smile. It remained to be seen how the American public would react to her in the future. In the present, the image of her that they were left with was her sitting on a table in a park answering questions from girls just a few years younger than she was.

There had however been a few surprising moments. Like when Louis learned that Nancy D’Alesandro, the daughter of Maryland Senator Thomas D’Alesandro, had been Kristina’s pen pal for the last few years. This trip had been the first opportunity for them to meet in person. Nancy Jensen had arranged for that to happen. Like everything Kristina had done, it had been in full view of the Press. Louis had seen the photographs. Two girls sitting in some informal location laughing about something. It was perfectly in keeping with the purpose of the entire trip. The hiccup had come when Nancy D’Alesandro had told Kristina that she intended to follow her father into politics with others listening in. It had raised a few eyebrows when Kristina had told her it was a wonderful goal. Kristina didn’t know a whole lot about American Politics, otherwise she might have phrased that differently. The child of a United States Senator would almost automatically have Statewide name recognition in their home State, a springboard to much higher office if they desired.

The lightweight bulkheads that compartmentalized much of the cabin of the big airliner gave Louis and Kristina considerable privacy on this flight. The space they had wasn’t particularly large, four seats facing each other and a small desk/table, but for an airliner it was the absolute height of luxury. Even so, it was still being cooped up in a metal tube for hours on end. The rumble of the engines and the hiss of the cabin pressurization were always present to remind one of that. Louis could hear the flight crew, his staff or men from the First Foot talking as they moved up and down the aisle just outside.

The door opened and Nancy Jensen stuck her head in, and Louis gestured to the seat across from him. She had done a good job of making the necessary arrangements ahead of his arrival in the United States for press availability and public appearances, making sure that things ran smoothly. Louis knew that she was a friend of Katherine’s going way back and a bit about her personal history like he did with all the people who worked directly for him. He was also aware that her husband was being considered for that Staff position in the Ministry of War, just getting him to leave his beloved Sealions would prove to be a bit of a challenge, even if it entailed a promotion. When Louis had extended her an invitation to fly with his entourage back to Germany, she had happily taken it.

“Kiki looks so sweet when she’s sleeping” Nancy whispered.

“She does” Louis replied softly.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me fly back on this plane” Nancy whispered.

“It was the least I could do.”

“I had a sort of there but the grace of God, go I moment while I was in New York” Nancy whispered, “Getting home is all I’ve wanted since.”

Louis could only imagine what that might have looked like. There were just too many possibilities.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty


6th June 1959

Potsdam

Antonia Marie Zita Cecilie Louise had been born on the 2nd of June, a couple weeks earlier than had been expected, but she seemed healthy enough. What should have been completely expected that the French were furious and saw her name as an unnecessary provocation. This had come just when life for Kiki had been returning to normal after traveling to the United States. She had been expecting to take a hit as far as her course work was concerned. However, it turned out that her father had appointed her as his aide during the trip, so not only were the days she had missed excused, she now had in her service file that she had been the aide to the Emperor on an overseas mission. It was exactly the sort of abuse of her family connections that Kiki was trying to avoid, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

Kiki had found herself playing an unexpectedly large role in the whole matter in the birth announcement of her half-sister. It had everything to do with those stupid tabloid newspapers again. After her recent trip to the United States they had become a nuisance by continuing to run with the story that Kiki was feuding with her stepmother. There was no basis in fact in that. Still, it had fueled the interest that the world had in her. The previous Wednesday morning, Kiki had been photographed holding her newborn sister and as she had found out, it was pure catnip to seemingly every Press outlet in the world. If they had really been paying attention, they would have realized that if Kiki and Charlotte really didn’t get along then the photograph would have never been taken.

Then there was the French reaction, it seemed that they remembered another Princess Antonia from almost two centuries earlier, Maria Antonia being the birth name of Marie Antoinette. Kiki didn’t say so, but she thought that it was just ahistorical nonsense. When she had been younger, Kiki had been both horrified and fascinated by the revolutions that had upended France and Russia. One of the things that she had discovered was that many of the popular narratives that surrounded those events were not the whole truth. The hated French Queen was every bit of the decadent, out of touch Monarch that history remembered. That didn’t make her an oddity in that era. What history seemed to have forgotten though was how she was tried on charges that struck Kiki as being spurious and was suffering from cancer at the time of her execution.

What did the killing a woman who probably only had months to live prove? It certainly did nothing to further validate the position of the Jacobins, the very forces that they had unleashed soon turned on them. It was hardly a surprise. Russian agents tracked the family of her cousin Gia to the ends of the Earth. They had done their best to kill all of them and Gia had barely escaped with her life. Gia was one of the kindest people who Kiki knew, what was gained for the revolution by shooting her as she fled the house her family had lived in? And as Kiki had learned from following world events, it seemed like there was always a Stalin or Napoléon waiting in the wings.

“I’m sorry that the world is a bit of mess” Kiki said to Antonina who was in her arms and looking up at her with unfocused eyes, “You’ll find that everyone is just muddling through as best they can.”

It would be some time before Antonia would able to reply. Who knew if she would still be interested in listening by then?

“She isn’t ready for that yet” Charlotte said from her seat on the comfortable recliner that she had moved into the extensive chambers set aside for the Empress, echoing Kiki’s thoughts. “For the next few years all Antonia needs to worry about learning to be herself.”

“Antonia?” Kiki asked, “That will not do, too much of a mouthful and it is a bit old fashioned.”

“I assume that you along with the rest of her brothers and sisters will cook up a pet name soon enough, Kiki” Charlotte said. She said that last part with a smile.

“We’ll think of something” Kiki replied, though she already had been thinking about it. Mostly it was a matter of getting the others to go along with what she had found.

Supposedly when she had been an infant, it had been Fritz Schafer who told Freddy that he had a cousin named Kristina who everyone called Kiki. That was how that had happened. The rest were just various spins on their actual names. Antonia had been a bit of a challenge. Kiki had handled it the same way that she had in other similar times in the past by looking it up in the library. The book on the history of various names had said that there were a couple of diminutives, Tonia and Nella. Kiki had no idea how they arrived at Nella from Antonia and that was the one she had liked. Then again, she had she had no idea how Kiki was derived from Kristina either. If Antonia was truly going to one of them then it was what would be expected.

With that, Antonia, or Nella as Kiki decided to start thinking of her, started fussing.

“I think she wants you to take her back” Kiki said before they began the process of handing Nella back over to Charlotte.

“Thank you for already being a good big sister to her” Charlotte said.

“It’s the least I could do” Kiki replied, “And in my opinion the French can go fuck themselves if they have a problem with her name.”

“Language” Charlotte exclaimed, “You’re supposed to be setting a good example for your younger sisters.”

“Rea and Vicky are sort of a lost cause at this point” Kiki replied, “And the occasional four-letter word won’t hurt Nella at all. Getting familiar with the taste of soap when she gets older will help develop her character.”

“Who?” Charlotte asked.

Kiki didn’t answer, instead she just smiled.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-One


19th June 1959

Near Oppeln, Silesia

In all of Han’s lengthy career he had never had a day quite today. The 3rd Landwehr Division had been conducting the Spring Field Maneuvers and that had culminated in the live fire exercise that was just starting. The Division would be practicing the assault on a hill with an audience this time. Politicians, military observers, journalists, everyday people from throughout the region had been given access to a cordoned off area that had a good view of where the “battle” was about to take place. Helene was there and she had the kids with her. They were about to see quite a show, and this would be the first time that Manny and Ina would see what their father did on the fun days at work.

As the men of the Division assembled in the jump off points at the base of the hill, Hans wanted more than anything to grab a rifle and join them. That is not how Generals lead, he had to remind himself for the dozenth time that hour. Instead he was observing from the command post under the camouflage netting. Alternating between checking his watch and looking through his binoculars, Hans waited for the minute that the operation would commence. Finally, there came the sound of ripping cloth and the hillside erupted in a series of loud explosions. Then the shriek of turbine engines as the jet planes raced away. That was the cue for the Division’s artillery brigade to open fire. As the howitzers lobbed high explosive 10.5cm shells at the hill as fast as they could fire them, the Infantry Platoons opened up with light 50mm mortars, 20mm autocannons and there was even the sound of spigot grenades being fired up the hill. To the spectators, it looked like all Hell was being let loose on the hillside. Hans knew from personal experience that it wasn’t nearly as effective as it appeared. What had happened more often than Hans cared to think about was that the opposing force would dig in as deeply as they could. Then they would reoccupy their old positions and be firing at his Platoon the instant artillery stopped. Because this was an exercise, they wouldn’t have to worry about that. That didn’t mean that they wouldn’t employ the sort of tactics that they would if they did.

“Get them on the horn and remind those morons what the plan is!” Hans yelled over his shoulder and his subordinates scrambled to make that happen. A few minutes later, the artillery slacked off.

There were a few minutes of silence, then a single volley of shells landed within the “enemy positions” as the creeping barrage started. The Infantry advanced up the hill with the shelling acting as cover. An equal amount of smoke was being mixed in with the high explosive shells at this point and things were progressing nicely. Hans had done his best to soldier proof his plans, even knowing how difficult that was. The Government and Taxpayers of Silesia would see how their money was being spent. He had also arranged for photographers to accompany the men as they made their way to the top of the hill, so tomorrow all the newspapers would be filled with them looking suitably heroic. Hans had known for years that such things were priceless to forging a Division’s identity. Even before the Spring Maneuvers had even began, Hans had been informed that the 3rd Landwehr Division had already seen marked improvement in their readiness as judged by the bean counters at the High Command. The 3rd Landwehr, long regarded as one of the worst Divisions in the Heer, had become a feather in Hans’ cap after two years of hard work.

Hans himself was slated to leave the Division, a sideways move to a Staff position with the Deputy Commander in Chief of the OKW. He and Helene had talked at length about him accepting the transfer. In the end it came down to the opportunities that living in the city of Berlin would provide for their children. Manny living in Silesia was eventually going to turn into a big fish in a little pond sort of situation and Ina would benefit enormously from the schools, museums and libraries that Berlin was famous for if she was going to reach her full potential. It would just be a large adjustment for both of them. They had lived in either Wunsdorf-Zosen or Silesia for most of their lives.

A series of thunderous explosions ripped through the sky over the heads of the men as they advanced up the hill. Hans had set that up earlier and none of them were expecting it. Those were civilian fireworks that had a bright flash of light and heavy concussion. While those fireworks were relatively harmless, they certainly got the attention of anyone on the ground below. It was the first of many surprises that Hans had been preparing for this afternoon. It was impossible to simulate what combat was really like, however he had done his best to create hidden hazards that were aimed more at embarrassing whoever ran afoul of them than causing any real harm. The thing that Stefan had told him about the paint bombs that the Russians had deployed against Stefan’s unit for example. No sooner than Hans had finished that thought then he saw a splash of fluorescent green paint on the hillside.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Two


30th June 1959

Berlin-Tempelhof

Everyone has bad weeks, but Kat could only think of a few times in her life that had been worse, those had involved her ending up in the hospital and people trying to kill her. Getting into a one-sided screaming match with Jack Kennedy as he had kept telling her over and over that what had happened, what was in fact happening, was something that he could not do a damned thing about. She had been furious for hours as she had made call after call. All it had gotten her was a few invitations for interviews that she had no interest in.

All of this was because she had done a favor to someone who she felt needed it. How many times had she joked about how no good deed goes unpunished? This was the latest example of that. That young woman, Gloria Steinem had taken it upon herself to write Kat’s biography after Kat had allowed her access more than a year earlier. Kat had been surprised when an advanced copy had arrived at her door, the reading of it however had been harrowing. There were a lot of things in that book that Kat had thought only she knew about or had successfully kept to within the close circle around her. Somehow, Gloria had discovered that Kat had in fact witnessed the brutal death of Merten Beck at the hands of her father and the details that had led up that. The Reichstag bombing, César Sauvageot and how she had been left reeling in the aftermath of those events were all contained within the pages. Then it had gone into her time with the SKA and the First Foot. Her involvement in the experimental MDMA/LSD treatment for traumatic stress and finally the book had contained the truth about her contentious relationship with Kira. Worse of all, the book revealed the extent of the depression that had defined much of Kat’s adult life.

For Kat it had felt like the carefully built walls that she had surrounded herself with had been torn down. She had publicly revealed a great deal of the painful and traumatic events in her life, but nowhere near to the extent that Gloria had. It had felt to her like if the half-healed wounds had been clawed open again. What had possessed Gloria to do such a thing? Didn’t she realize the sort of effect that these things would have on the way that people saw her? Even before this Kat had frequently been treated as if she was a barely controlled savage, the Tigress of Pankow hadn’t originally been coined as a term of affection. When that book was published, her detractors would have direct evidence of her difficulties and it was going to be a club that they would gleefully pound her over the head with. That meant that the coming weeks were not going to get better.

Jack had made it clear that because most of the sources that Gloria Steinem had were public records there wasn’t much that they could do to block publication. Then Jack had the nerve to ask if Kat had hired anyone to mind her interests regarding her personal story, because if she didn’t tell it then someone else would. That had really set Kat off. Twenty minutes later, Kat had run out of steam and Jack acted like if nothing untoward had happened. Instead, he had calmly reminded her that he had other clients and asked if they could wrap up the conversation. Getting yelled at by an angry client was just another day at the office for him. Kat was left sitting in her office feeling like an idiot with her throat raw and the children, who had been playing in the parlor, learning a few new swear words.

That had been a few days earlier, now Kat was in her room with the door locked and the curtains closed. Sitting in the darkness at least gave her a chance to sort her thoughts. In the past she had usually come up with a solution or at least waited for things to work out on their own. That wasn’t working though, instead she had her thoughts swirling around in her head and she was growing increasingly agitated. She kept finding herself thinking about her conversation with Nancy, the same conversation that had turned out to a complete mistake. Of all her friends, Nancy was the one who knew the most about public relations. However, all Nancy wanted to talk about was her own personal issues. She and Tilo had been going around in circles over whether or not they should try to have another baby. Nancy had told Tilo that if nature forced their decision again then he could look forward to spending the rest of his life sleeping on the couch in the study. Tilo had then turned around and pointed out that if they had another child in the house, they would need to convert the study into another bedroom. For someone as supposedly smart as Tilo was, he certainly had a knack for saying incredibly stupid things.

That had not been what Kat had wanted to talk about. Instead, she had gotten a promise from Nancy that the next time she was in Berlin that they would go have lunch and talk about what Kat’s options were in depth. Something that would be difficult over the phone. Now Kat couldn’t get the subject of Nancy’s personal life out of her mind because her own children were knocking on the bedroom door and yelling to get her attention. Even Marie, who didn’t really want anything, had joined her two older siblings because she thought it was what she was supposed to do or something. They were cute when they were tiny, Kat suspected that it was that aspect they Nancy was interested in. Then they got older and started to have opinions and started talking… Nowhere near as cute.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Three


3rd July 1959

Peenemünde

Sigi was sitting in the command bunker following the countdown and feeling a bit useless. She had made the mistake of going home while on leave and had ended up getting in an argument with her mother over the identity of her father. Once again, Sigi had listened to her make a comment about that man’s identity and had confronted her directly over the matter. All Sigi’s mother said was that he was dead and that Sigi was better for it. This had been a constant source of aggravation for Sigi, her mother seemed to delight in saying things about her father but seemed to be intending to take that information to her grave.

The noise that thousands of residents of the Pomeranian Coast woke up to was shattering as the rocket sled shot down the track breaking the speed of sound. It was the third attempt to get the bird to fly after two previous attempts had failed rather spectacularly. It was whispered that the program had been getting funded so that Eugen Sänger and Irene Bredt wouldn’t be tempted to take the technology elsewhere. There was also the chance that Silbervogel might just work and even if it didn’t the odds that useful technology would emerge from the project was too great to get rid of it entirely. Either way, they needed a successful test flight or else the project was finally going to get the axe.

Sigi was here today as the observer from the Raumfahrer Program, apparently everyone else senior to her had better things to do. At the same time, Albrecht had briefed her on the sensitive political nature of the project. It had emerged from a theoretical exercise in Wunsdorf-Zosen regarding the possibility of another war with the United States during the Soviet War. It was a worst-case scenario that had needed to be explored because of the Navy operating in close proximity to US held islands in the Pacific.

The result was that the Luftwaffe had issued an order for a bomber that could hit targets within the Continental United States. The atmosphere of suspicion that had prevailed in the years since had seen to it that the “Antipodal” Bomber projects had never really gone away, the term Amerika Bomber was never to be said by anyone, ever. Oddly, it was Silbervogel, long regarded as the greatest longshot of the entire program that was now regarded as having the greatest chance of achieving the original order’s aims. Among other things, any bomber capable of reaching the United States didn’t need to carry a large bombload. It just needed to carry one bomb and deliver it with enough accuracy to hit a city, that would be more than enough. If they could get it work, that is.

“We have successful separation” Sigi hear one of the technicians call out, all she could see was the cloud of steam on the western horizon where the rocket sled had run out of track.

Now came the wait over the next few minutes as they waited to see if the latest version of the Silbervogel disintegrated like the previous two attempts or skipped off the top of the atmosphere like Sänger and Bredt had calculated it would.


Breslau, Silesia

With her family moving to Berlin, Helene knew that she would once again be splitting her time between Breslau and Berlin, or at least far more than she had been doing. The announcement of the move had raised a few eyebrows. It seemed like everyone in Silesia had memories of the people who had been sent to Berlin, in theory to represent them, only to become creatures of the capital and unresponsive to their constituents needs. It was obviously a worry that Helene might do that despite whatever promises she made.

That was what drove her meet with as many from her constituents as she could while she was in her office. One of them had been a Polish farm family who lived near Kattowitz, recently their eldest daughter had failed to come home from school. They didn’t think that the local police were taking the matter seriously enough and were hoping that Helene could do something about it. All they had been told was that the fifteen-year-old had probably run off and if they figured out who she was shacked up, then with they would find her.

Apparently, she wasn’t that kind of girl. They never were, Helene thought to herself remembering what she had been like at that age. And the mother was certain that something awful must have befallen her daughter. Again, that was something that parents always tended to think.

Helene almost dismissed them until she remembered the conversation that she’d had with Kat a few days earlier. Some American Journalist had written her biography and had done exhaustive research into her life. It was hardly a surprise that it had been someone from across the Atlantic who had done that. No one who was within Kat’s easy reach would have dared.

Normally, Helene wasn’t inclined to gainsay the local police, they tended to know their local communities and they were probably correct about where the girl had run off to. However, Kat had been wallowing in self-pity the way she always did whenever things were not going her way. Perhaps an excuse to leave the city was exactly what she needed. Kat spends a couple days in Silesia, clearing her head in the process. She then tracks down the girl, preferably before her parents became grandparents. She would probably rip the rake who had lured the girl off a new asshole, but then everyone knew that Kat only happened to people who deserved it. Justice would be done. Helene would look good because she had brought the Emperor’s own personal investigator, who happened to be Helene’s sister-in-law, to settle the matter quickly. It was perfect.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Four


4th July 1959

Kattowitz, Silesia

As Kat walked from her car to the front doors of the hotel, she was cursing under her breath about laziness, stupidity, misogyny, incompetence, nepotism and inbreeding. All of which had been on full display when she had been trying to take charge of the situation because she had been the only one who had the first clue as to what they were doing.

The body of Martyna Dunajski, the girl who Helene had asked Kat to find had been discovered in a field just hours before she had arrived in the small farming village just a few kilometers to the north of Kattowitz. The local police had tromped all over the scene and Kat had ended up having to pull rank so that at least a proper autopsy could be performed. The local police had been about to give the girl’s body to the family. If Kat had been forced to take it back from them, it would have turned the entire community against her. As it was the Village Mayor, the Chief of Police, not to mention most of the District Council all had the same last name and they looked at Kat as if she was intruding on their business. Worse of all, one of those twits had basically said that it must have been the work of a Jew with absolutely no evidence to back that claim.

Kat could see why the family of the girl had gone to Helene for help. Even with the turn of events, the local authorities were more worried about being seen as having been wrong than they were about figuring out the truth. Even without a Pathologist looking at the body Kat had recognized that the girl had been strangled, petechial hemorrhaging and ligature marks were something she knew entirely too much about. Then whoever had done this had savaged her, repeated postmortem stab wounds, dozens of them, and God only knew what else. The lack of blood revealed that she hadn’t been alive for that. Small mercies.

At the moment, all Kat wanted was to take a shower and sleep, but she knew that she would have to make some phone calls first. Sven Werth and whoever he knew who could help. Then Helene to let her know her exact level of displeasure for getting her involved in what this looked like it was. What she had seen was seldom the sort of thing that just happened once. Kat had the sickening feeling that a close examination of public records would reveal that there had been others. Oskar Dirlewanger had killed dozens of times before the police had gotten wise to him, Kat feared that she was looking at a similar pattern. And that was in the middle of a large city. How many times had the local police gone after a convenient scapegoat like she had already seen them try to do once? Then she would have to explain this to Douglas.


Near Petaluma, California

The races were illegal, but no one present cared about that. Two county roads, Old Adobe and Frates met in a T intersection near the ruins of the old Spanish fort that once presided over the plains to the east of Petaluma. Frates ran straight as an arrow for several miles. A narrow strip of blacktop with ditches that ran up either side. It wasn’t without considerable danger, but that was the point. It also meant that if the City cops came out from Petaluma or the Sheriff’s Deputies came down Old Adobe Road, they would be seen several minutes before they got here.

It was a warm Saturday night in the summertime meant that the local Rock & Rollers and hotrodders were out in force for the drag races that happened once the cops chased them away from cruising up and down Petaluma Boulevard earlier in the evening. Jonny obviously wasn’t about to get involved with that. It wasn’t just because he had left his Ford Coupe in Upstate New York and he was driving his father’s old gutless Dodge, but because Gloria had wanted to see his old haunts when they had come out to California this week. He simply didn’t want to risk getting busted while she was with him. To his amusement he saw her with her notepad out a few times as they had made their way through the social strata of the scene, if he had to guess it must be like watching chimps at the zoo. It certainly felt that way to him. However, everyone knew that John Casey was back in town and there was clearly a celebratory aspect to that.

The problem that Jonny had was that as much as he enjoyed seeing old friends, he was starting to realize that he had outgrown this whole scene. In New York he was off doing important work, here his friends were still doing the exact same sorts of things that they had been doing years earlier when they had all been in school together. For Gloria it was simpler than just revisiting old times. A telegram had arrived from Ireland addressed to her publisher from Katherine von Mischner’s Lawyer confirming the contents of Gloria’s manuscript. It also warned her that the Countess was an extremely private woman who had not been happy to have so much of her dirty laundry aired like this. It was suggested that Gloria avoid traveling in Europe until she got over it. Traveling to California had been an escape from all of that for her. Jonny told her not to worry too much about it. The Countess was a one-star General, and someone like that didn’t seek you out, you went to them.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Five


9th July 1959

Moscow, Russia

“Seriously, if I had to stay in Silesia for another second, I was going to kill someone” Kat said, “So much provisional bullshit and turf wars that were going on. It seemed like they were more interested in defending their slice of the pie as opposed to getting to the bottom of what has been going on.”

Having Kat show up at her front door was a rare treat. Kat reminding her that her thirty-first birthday was a few days earlier was decidedly less welcome. Gia had been trying to ignore her birthday, pretend that it was just another day. The world had not been allowing her to forget it so easily. Everyone wanted to wish Grand Duchess Jehane Alexandra Thomas-Romanova, Princess Royal of Russia, a happy birthday whether she liked it or not.

It had been when Gia had asked Kat what she was up to that her entire demeanor had changed. The frustrations of the previous days had boiled over. Apparently, Kat had gone to Silesia in order to find a girl who had turned up dead before she even had a chance to start looking. Despite Kat’s battles with local authorities, she had made progress by getting the preliminary findings of the autopsy and starting a proper investigation. It was obvious that whatever the Pathologist’s findings were, they had really set Kat off and she wasn’t going to let this go.

It was fortunate that Kat had a few favors to call in while she was in Silesia. The Richthofen family name blew away most of the official resistance that Kat was subjected to. It tended to wilt away when confronted with the prospect of getting on the wrong side of the Graf. She also had her brother as a resource. According to Kat, Hans had referred several file clerks to her from his ranks of part-time soldiers, who were more than happy to help if it counted as time in service. Currently she had them going through records trying to find other killings in Silesia, Bohemia and South-Western Poland that matched the modus operandi of the killing of Martyna Dunajski. The fact that Kat had taken the time to remember the girl’s name showed just how personally she was taking this. That had been when it was discovered that there had been six others that seemed to match, going back at least five years. Just they had happened geographically and chronologically far enough apart that the local police couldn’t see the pattern.

That news had been what had prompted Kat to get on the first plane to Moscow.

“There is also that stupid book” Kat said.

“What book?” Gia asked.

Kat waved her hand dismissively. “This American I was nice to thought it would be fun to write to write about me” She said, “She got ahold of far more information than I would like.”

Gia struggled to keep what she was thinking from her face. Poor, shy, long suffering Kat and the things she tried so desperately to hide about herself. All the things that others saw in her that she couldn’t see in herself. The woman who had welcomed many girls into her family and had done her best to see that they had the best possible start in their life. She had risked her life repeatedly for larger causes and was generous to a fault. Yet when pushed, Kat admitted that she was convinced that death followed wherever she went, and she feared that her children might one day catch a glimpse of the darkness that she thought was at her core.

“Don’t you pay attention to what is going on in the cinema Kat?” Gia asked, “Movies about the Soviet War and the Pacific War are all the rage, there have already been movies that have featured characters who look a lot like you and your brother. How long until Babelsburg drops the pretense and just makes Kat Mischner, the movie.”

“They wouldn’t dare” Kat said, her words dripping with acid.

“You have to decide how you want your story told” Gia said, “I had to keep the world thinking that I had died with my parents so that the Stalin and Beria wouldn’t send half the NKVD after me. I didn’t get to tell my story on my terms and look how that turned out. You think I’m comfortable with being a prisoner of the role that I’m forced to play here in Russia? Holy Saint Sasha, the pure unspoiled, boring virgin Princess who suffered so terribly at the hands of the Bolsheviks or whatever bullshit spin my cousin is putting on it this week.”

That caused Kat to wilt a bit, only three people besides Gia herself knew that she wasn’t pure and wasn’t exactly a virgin. Kat, Douglas and Asia, who had secretly been Gia’s lover for a time more than a decade earlier. While Gia remained unsure about her sexuality. There had been plenty of men who she had fancied, but she remembered how simple things had been with Asia. She had dared not explore that part of herself further. The risk of scandal was too great if she had continued her relationship with Asia. If she took a man into her bed and got pregnant… The thought of any son of hers inheriting the dread illness that she had watched slowly kill her Uncle when she was a little girl was too much to bear.

“I sorry” Kat said, “I forgot about… I’ve been meaning to talk with Nancy on this subject, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“I wouldn’t put that off” Gia replied.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Six


20th July 1959

Tempelhof, Berlin

“Then he walks up to me and says that he already has a girlfriend, but his mother had said that he had to introduce himself” Kiki said, “Why did he even bother?”

Berg found Kiki’s personal life, or lack thereof, amusing and Kiki could see that play across her face even if she didn’t say it aloud. As much as Kiki disliked admitting to it, things had grown increasingly comical over the prior months. Living on the Humboldt Campus had plenty of drawbacks, among those were the young men who only saw the superficial aspects of her title and family for starters. Kiki had recently confided in Berg that she sometimes regretted asking Benjamin to stop seeing her. She had told Kiki that the relationship she’d had with Ben had progressed to a point that she might not have been ready for. The decision to end it had been Kiki doing what she had felt at the time was right for her, second guessing herself now was pointless.

“It was so that he could tell his mother that he did, and she would stop getting after him to meet a nice girl” Berg said mildly, “As opposed to whoever his actual girlfriend is.”

“A nice girl who comes from Royalty and presumably receives money from her family” Kiki said flatly. It was the whole “nice” part when accompanied by people’s assumptions that was getting on Kiki’s nerves. The absurd truth was that the money that Kiki received from the family trust went almost entirely towards living expenses and every last pfennig had to be accounted for. The only money she really had that she was able to spend freely was from the weekly pay she received as an Obersoldat in the Medical Service. Even that didn’t go very far because if Kiki did something fun like going out with her friends, she would be inevitably stuck with the bill sometime during the night because everyone assumed that she was rich. And because she was so nice, she always just ate the cost without complaining.

“I’m just glad that is the only area where you need to learn to tell people no” Berg replied, “Something will be working in the future. Fortunately, you will be spending the Summer Holiday with your friend Marcella, apparently she has no trouble in that regard at least.”

Kiki didn’t respond to that, going back to her meal was safer. Especially after she had made the mistake of telling Berg about what had happened a couple of weeks earlier.

Zella had recently gotten a bit of a slap in the face from people who she thought she was friends with. The Moondogs had put out a single that was a minor hit in their native UK and it had gotten some radio airplay in Germany. She walks in Sunlight sounded like the typical poppy song that record companies demanded, except when one actually listened to the lyrics beyond the chorus a different picture emerged. It was actually quite scathing, the girl the song was about skipped through life with her head in the clouds, well insulated from the harsher realities that ordinary people endured. It also implied that Zella was a tease. Yet one more example of the dozens of infuriating contradictions that had to be negotiated.

This time, Zella was hoping that her father wouldn’t find out. Because she was planning on dealing with the Moondogs in her own way the next time they came back through Berlin. Kiki knew full well that getting a talk from Markgraf von Holz might have seemed harsh, particularly when he showed the even a small amount of the power he possessed. However, Zella was far more vindictive, had more patience than her father and was every bit as good at making plans. One day the Moondogs would get a reminder about this, at the worst possible moment for them.


Potsdam

“You did well, starting the investigation and then referring it to us” Sven said to Kat as she sat down in the chair opposite his desk.

It didn’t feel that way to Kat, she felt like she had failed. Having examined every bit of available evidence, they had not been able to determine the identity of the killer. That evidence was also nightmarish in nature. The Pathologist in Breslau that determined that after killing through strangulation, the perpetrator had mutilated the corpse while having intercourse with it, postmortem. Kat could have lived her whole life without hearing that. If that wasn’t enough, the Pathologist suspected that the Killer was engaging in cannibalism as well. Beyond that, she had whole lot of nothing in the case of Martyna Dunajski. There were also apparently six other girls whose cases she had been unable to bring herself to examine too closely yet.

“Also, I wouldn’t be quite so harsh in my assessment of the police in rural Upper Silesia” Sven said, “The best and brightest don’t get assigned to places like that, so they are in over their heads. There is a reason why the Federal Police exist and this mess you discovered is exactly that.”

Crimes committed across jurisdictional lines. In this case, the States of Silesia and Bohemia as well as the Polish Protectorate, had to be investigated without getting caught up in provincial politics. Kat remembered that much. She was also aware that her own role was a bit murky. The Emperor had appointed her to the role she currently played, but because she was effectively outside the chain of command of the Federal Police even if they did see her as one of their own, it was very possible that her actions would be seen as suspect. That was why one of the first things she had done was bring in Sven Werth even if the investigation had not reached a conclusion.

“I’m aware of that” Kat replied, “They are just infuriating though.”

“Especially when someone like you comes to town” Sven said, “You tend to be about as subtle as a Panzer Regiment.”

“I just wanted to get this monster” Kat replied.

“We will” Sven said, “We now know he’s out there and justice will eventually be served.”

Kat had always liked Sven’s certainty in that regard, but she was also aware that it wasn’t always true.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Thirty-Six


5th August 1959

Washington D.C.

Everyone knew that President Harriman was well read, however the latest issue of the New Yorker wasn’t what anyone quite had in mind. Considering the article in question, it was something that should have been anticipated considering the events of a few months earlier. Today, as the daily briefing concluded it was what the President wanted to talk about.

The New Yorker had conducted an in-depth interview with Kaiser Louis Ferdinand as part of the public relations push that the royal family of the German Empire had engaged in over the previous months. If only he came across like his grandfather had, the belligerence that Wilhelm the 2nd was known for had successfully united the American people in a way that had not happened since then. Instead, the current Kaiser dressed like a businessman and came across as perfectly reasonable. Inside the Oval Office itself he had discussed arms control, space exploration and trade policy with President Harriman

It seemed absurd that as the President of the United States, Harriman might hope for some outside force to help unite the country and push aside the inertia that Harry Truman had warned him about, but there he was. The country seemed to be standing still while pulling in a thousand different directions. Perhaps if the Soviets had won the public would have a common enemy, then things might be different. The German Empire though was a strange dichotomy. Countryside that was little changed from how it had been over the previous centuries, the sort of thing that was featured on tourism brochures, and the cities that most Americans who made their way there found totally alien. Many things that that were relegated to the shadows in America, seldom talked about unless in the form of condemnation, were very obviously so present as to not be worth mentioning having lost all novelty. That might have the holy rollers nickers in a twist, but it was hardly something that the country would unite around.

Then there was the interview in the New Yorker.

“He stated that while he is paying for his daughter’s living expenses while she is in college, any extras beyond that come from her pay as the equivalent of a Private First-Class” Avril said, “He also mentions how the girl is generous to a fault.”

Everyone around the table remembered the girl who had come to the White House in the company of her father. She had come across as shy and soft-spoken, coming across as somewhat younger than how old she said she was said to be. The background information provided said that she had opted to go on to college early. Small wonder that her father suspected that she might be at risk of being taken advantage of by older students in her class.

“Well Sir, they do have a different way of looking at things” The Press Secretary said, “I couldn’t imagine one of my daughters being encouraged to basically join the National Guard. Which I believe this is equivalent to.”

“That isn’t the point” Harriman said, “The symbolism of making a teenaged girl live on a tight budget, even if she wasn’t who she was that would be a heavy lift. How do you think things like this play with the public?”

“I can understand that Sir, but we are a very different country.”

“I never said we weren’t” Harriman replied, “But this one thing is emblematic of the problems we face. How do we get this country to lead the world again? Especially when others seem to be doing it by example.”


Ramatuelle, France

Kiki was absolutely exhausted as she made her way from the car to the front door of the house. It was in the middle of the night, the air still felt warm and Kiki could smell the salt of the sea close by. Even though she must be just as tired, Zella was looking around the entry. Peering into the darkened rooms, trying to see what the house was like. In the sitting room, Zella could see the distant lights of what looked like a small town or village in the distance.

She had gotten through the final examinations to finish the term and then had to pack everything in her dorm room before getting put on a train to France. All of that in just a few days. Zella and Aurora had come along, but they had not had nearly as many things to do before they left. For the two of them, this trip held a far different meaning than it did for Kiki. They would be joining her at University in the fall, which was why this holiday sort of marked the end of their childhood. This was especially true for Aurora who was easily the most sheltered of the three of them.

With some annoyance, Kiki saw that Lea Bäcker was supervising the unloading of their luggage. She had been put in charge of Kiki’s protection detail while they were in France, she was the logical choice. That didn’t mean that Kiki was thrilled about needing bodyguards.

“Wait until tomorrow morning” Lea said, “You will just be blown away by how beautiful the villa is Kiki.”

Kiki would need to take her word for it. Right now, sleep and doing as little as possible for the next few weeks was all she cared about.