Also I think their predecessors already existed since the 16th Amendment predates the POD and that whipped up a firestorm. Ditto for Civil Rights at every stage.
Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III
- Thread starter Peabody-Martini
- Start date
There are a number of types of SovCit, but all of them seem to be variations of the belief that the legal system includes a cheat code that grants invulnerability and often unlimited money. Trying to apply common sense and logic to their beliefs is like trying to nail diarrhea to the ceiling.
I have noticed that there is no John Birch Society ITTL, it is like the inspiration for them was Shanghai'ed, drugged, put in a box on a slow boat back to America...
It is noticeable how Ritchie refers to Manny and Suse Rosa by who their fathers are but that is because Ritchie see them through his experience in the military.
Depending on who else meets Manny and Suse Rosa they are going to see them in a different perspective.
Someone who is involved in politics will see Manny as being the son of the current Interior Minister of Germany and someone in the entertainment industry will see Suse Rosa as the daughter of the one the leading producers in Europe Gerta von Wolvogle.
By the way Las Vegas is only a four hour drive from Los Angeles and less then a hour by scheduled airline.
It is noticeable how Ritchie refers to Manny and Suse Rosa by who their fathers are but that is because Ritchie see them through his experience in the military.
Depending on who else meets Manny and Suse Rosa they are going to see them in a different perspective.
Someone who is involved in politics will see Manny as being the son of the current Interior Minister of Germany and someone in the entertainment industry will see Suse Rosa as the daughter of the one the leading producers in Europe Gerta von Wolvogle.
By the way Las Vegas is only a four hour drive from Los Angeles and less then a hour by scheduled airline.
That could see them invited to some low to mid level parties in LA, a couple of paparazzi snaps as a byline in a gossip rag which will be picked up by a clipping agency in Germany.
Next thing they know ...
IT'S WEDDING PLANNIN' TIME!!
Someone whose business is intelligence will see Manny as the son of the current Interior Minister of Germany, the son of (retired) General Hans von Mischner, the grandson of Manfred von Richtofen AND (ominously) the nephew of one Katerina von Mischner (a.k.a. the Tigress of Pankow & the Kaiser's personal assassin) who just happens to be on the FBI's persons of interest list,... and the CIA's,... and the ONI's,... and the <insert name of US government agency>... and proceed to crap themselves out of paranoia.
Part 128, Chapter 2167
Chapter Two Thousand One Hundred Sixty-Seven
16th August 1972
Silesia
“I think it looks wonderful” Ina said to Mathilda who was unhappy about what she was wearing. “Very practical.”
The girl gave Ina a look that said exactly what she thought of that.
A couple days earlier, Ilse and Ina had taken Mathilda into Breslau and she had bought the girl some clothes beyond what she had brought from Berlin. She had said that two peasant dresses and a pair of sandals were unacceptable. Mathilda had mentioned that she had been given a uniform to wear when she had been in Berlin at the State School, and that had included a pair of uncomfortable shoes that pinched her feet. It had been itchy and uncomfortable, so she had discarded it the first chance she got.
Ilse had not been happy to hear Mathilda had done that and she had frozen the girl in place with a withering glare.
“How do I know that you will not do the same thing with any clothes I get you?” Ilse had demanded sharply.
Ina knew there was a bit more to it than just having Mathilda throw away some clothes. If she had not liked spending a few days in the State School, she should try spending several years. Aunt Ilse had spent the first sixteen years of her life in various institutions like that one until her sister had found her as the result of an odd coincidence. Ilse had physically resembled Jehane Thomas-Romanova and was asked to play the role of body double. It was small wonder that Ilse was angered by Mathilda’s attitude.
Mathilda had sworn that she wouldn’t throw away anything that Ilse got for her. That had included a few dresses that she seemed comfortable in. Ilse had insisted that she get a pair of properly fitted shoes as well as some sets of clothes that were far better suited to roaming around in the forest like Mathilda had been doing. The pair of bib overalls and green flannel shirt that she was wearing today were a part of that. Ilse had suggested that the girl spend the morning assisting Ina. She was currently sulking in the passenger seat of the old VW Bergwind that Ina had bought at an estate auction a few years earlier.
“We are going to be treating a bad case of lumpy jaw on a Dairy” Ina said, “It is the sort of thing that I would think that someone your age would love to see, very gross.”
“My family has goats” Mathilda said, “I already know what that is.”
Then Mathilda fell silent for the next several minutes.
Ina just shrugged. If the girl didn’t want to talk then she wouldn’t force the issue. A few minutes later, she turned the Bergwind down a rutted lane. Eventually, they came to a ramshackle farmhouse and stopped in the yard out front.
Stepping out, Ina could smell the unmistakable scent of manure that filled the air. The Farmer was already waiting in the yard, so he watched as she pulled the duffle bag containing her tools and supplies, a galvanized bucket, and a hand pump with a rubber hose out the steel storage box bolted to the bed of the Bergwind. Like many of the farmers in this region, he was an older man with leathery skin and a beard that hung halfway down his chest.
“Good morning” The Farmer said, “Here for the cow?”
“Why else?” Ina said in reply.
“Your grandfather is well?”
“Yes”
“And you brought a helper” The Farmer said when he saw Mathilda get out of the car.
“The Lady felt that having Mathilda moping around that big house was bad for her, you know what they say about idle hands” Ina said, “Helping me would be edifying.”
“True” The Farmer replied as he started walking towards the barn. “I can see where she is coming from, my own grandchildren would do nothing but watch television all day if I let them.”
He just shrugged as if to ask, what can you do?
“I need you to fill this with water from the pump over there” Ina said to Mathilda who knew how to do that much.
The Farmer walked off and a few minutes later was guiding a large milk cow into the wooden crush that was set up for exactly this purpose. It was a cunning device that pinned the cow into place to keep her from moving so that Ina could work on her. The Farmer cinched the ropes tight, so that the cow was squeezed between the plywood walls. A yoke was placed around the cow’s neck to further isolate her head. Ina could see that the lump on the cow’s jaw was badly distended, which was why the Farmer had called Ina’s employer and they had sent her out because they knew that she lived nearby.
Putting on a pair of rubber gloves, Ina used a syringe needle to check if this really was an infection or something else. It was no surprise that it was an infection. Taking a scalpel with an extra-large blade. She cut into the lump and then stepped back quickly as the cow thrashed around. Watery pus sprayed out of the cow’s jaw. Mathilda made a face as she caught a whiff of the foul smell, Ida had long grown inured to this sort of thing. Reaching into the wound, she pulled dead tissue that was hanging out of the cow’s jaw away.
“I bet that Niko and Bas will be envious that you got to be here for this later” Ina said as she pulled a large bottle of iodine from her bag of supplies. From the look on Mathilda’s face, it was clear that this was incredibly gross even by farmgirl standards. Pouring the contents of the bottle into the bucket and placing the handpump into it, she looked at Mathilda.
“The wound is now going to be flushed out” Ina said with a smile, “You get to work the pump.”
16th August 1972
Silesia
“I think it looks wonderful” Ina said to Mathilda who was unhappy about what she was wearing. “Very practical.”
The girl gave Ina a look that said exactly what she thought of that.
A couple days earlier, Ilse and Ina had taken Mathilda into Breslau and she had bought the girl some clothes beyond what she had brought from Berlin. She had said that two peasant dresses and a pair of sandals were unacceptable. Mathilda had mentioned that she had been given a uniform to wear when she had been in Berlin at the State School, and that had included a pair of uncomfortable shoes that pinched her feet. It had been itchy and uncomfortable, so she had discarded it the first chance she got.
Ilse had not been happy to hear Mathilda had done that and she had frozen the girl in place with a withering glare.
“How do I know that you will not do the same thing with any clothes I get you?” Ilse had demanded sharply.
Ina knew there was a bit more to it than just having Mathilda throw away some clothes. If she had not liked spending a few days in the State School, she should try spending several years. Aunt Ilse had spent the first sixteen years of her life in various institutions like that one until her sister had found her as the result of an odd coincidence. Ilse had physically resembled Jehane Thomas-Romanova and was asked to play the role of body double. It was small wonder that Ilse was angered by Mathilda’s attitude.
Mathilda had sworn that she wouldn’t throw away anything that Ilse got for her. That had included a few dresses that she seemed comfortable in. Ilse had insisted that she get a pair of properly fitted shoes as well as some sets of clothes that were far better suited to roaming around in the forest like Mathilda had been doing. The pair of bib overalls and green flannel shirt that she was wearing today were a part of that. Ilse had suggested that the girl spend the morning assisting Ina. She was currently sulking in the passenger seat of the old VW Bergwind that Ina had bought at an estate auction a few years earlier.
“We are going to be treating a bad case of lumpy jaw on a Dairy” Ina said, “It is the sort of thing that I would think that someone your age would love to see, very gross.”
“My family has goats” Mathilda said, “I already know what that is.”
Then Mathilda fell silent for the next several minutes.
Ina just shrugged. If the girl didn’t want to talk then she wouldn’t force the issue. A few minutes later, she turned the Bergwind down a rutted lane. Eventually, they came to a ramshackle farmhouse and stopped in the yard out front.
Stepping out, Ina could smell the unmistakable scent of manure that filled the air. The Farmer was already waiting in the yard, so he watched as she pulled the duffle bag containing her tools and supplies, a galvanized bucket, and a hand pump with a rubber hose out the steel storage box bolted to the bed of the Bergwind. Like many of the farmers in this region, he was an older man with leathery skin and a beard that hung halfway down his chest.
“Good morning” The Farmer said, “Here for the cow?”
“Why else?” Ina said in reply.
“Your grandfather is well?”
“Yes”
“And you brought a helper” The Farmer said when he saw Mathilda get out of the car.
“The Lady felt that having Mathilda moping around that big house was bad for her, you know what they say about idle hands” Ina said, “Helping me would be edifying.”
“True” The Farmer replied as he started walking towards the barn. “I can see where she is coming from, my own grandchildren would do nothing but watch television all day if I let them.”
He just shrugged as if to ask, what can you do?
“I need you to fill this with water from the pump over there” Ina said to Mathilda who knew how to do that much.
The Farmer walked off and a few minutes later was guiding a large milk cow into the wooden crush that was set up for exactly this purpose. It was a cunning device that pinned the cow into place to keep her from moving so that Ina could work on her. The Farmer cinched the ropes tight, so that the cow was squeezed between the plywood walls. A yoke was placed around the cow’s neck to further isolate her head. Ina could see that the lump on the cow’s jaw was badly distended, which was why the Farmer had called Ina’s employer and they had sent her out because they knew that she lived nearby.
Putting on a pair of rubber gloves, Ina used a syringe needle to check if this really was an infection or something else. It was no surprise that it was an infection. Taking a scalpel with an extra-large blade. She cut into the lump and then stepped back quickly as the cow thrashed around. Watery pus sprayed out of the cow’s jaw. Mathilda made a face as she caught a whiff of the foul smell, Ida had long grown inured to this sort of thing. Reaching into the wound, she pulled dead tissue that was hanging out of the cow’s jaw away.
“I bet that Niko and Bas will be envious that you got to be here for this later” Ina said as she pulled a large bottle of iodine from her bag of supplies. From the look on Mathilda’s face, it was clear that this was incredibly gross even by farmgirl standards. Pouring the contents of the bottle into the bucket and placing the handpump into it, she looked at Mathilda.
“The wound is now going to be flushed out” Ina said with a smile, “You get to work the pump.”
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I have better taste than to post links, but there is a wealth of videos on YouTube that revolve around abscesses on cattle and they are every bit as gross as depicted.
There are so many different facets to this latest posts.
Ilse has the most connection to Mathilda in regards to the experience of being in a State School but Ilse would be well advised not to make a point about how much harder it was when she was Mathilda's age because Mathilda has no point of reference for it.
Ina's doing veterinary work in her grandfather's "realm" just adds to the influence that the Kurfurst has among the people there because it shows through his granddaughter that he cares about them and takes an interest in them.
Ina will find out that she has a new helper for the rest of the summer.
Mathilda seems to have competitive streak against Niko and Bas which will be very interesting if they all go to the same school together and add Gretchen Eun-Ji Schultz to that mix things will get very interesting in the Chinese way for the school.
Ilse has the most connection to Mathilda in regards to the experience of being in a State School but Ilse would be well advised not to make a point about how much harder it was when she was Mathilda's age because Mathilda has no point of reference for it.
Ina's doing veterinary work in her grandfather's "realm" just adds to the influence that the Kurfurst has among the people there because it shows through his granddaughter that he cares about them and takes an interest in them.
Ina will find out that she has a new helper for the rest of the summer.
Mathilda seems to have competitive streak against Niko and Bas which will be very interesting if they all go to the same school together and add Gretchen Eun-Ji Schultz to that mix things will get very interesting in the Chinese way for the school.
Part 128, Chapter 2168
Chapter Two Thousand One Hundred Sixty-Eight
18th August 1972
Breslau, Silesia
The statue in the center of Breslau was of a soldier, he was standing with a rifle slung over his shoulder. Even before Mathilda saw the face, she could see that the man’s posture radiated exhaustion. The face was blank, expressionless. That seemed very eerie to her.
“That is a monument to a battle that was fought here thirty years ago” Ina said when Mathilda asked about it. “Opa burned down the house to keep the Russians from capturing it.”
“Oh” Mathilda replied, as she followed Ina to the car.
“My father was here, or at least he must have been because his Unit was” Ina said, “Of course, it is one of those things that he never talks about.”
With that, Ina unlocked the door to her car. It was a VW Bergwind, the strange vehicle that was the size of a compact car but had a cargo bed like a lorry. They were fairly common out in the countryside, here in the city it got them weird looks. Not that Ina cared though. She had come into the city to submit the week’s paperwork and Mathilda had come along. There also had been an errand that Ina had needed to run in the University’s Administration Center. Both those things had been outside Mathilda’s experience. The first had involved a large veterinary clinic and she had been amazed that so much effort was going into caring for animals. The second involved a massive building that was empty for the most part. Ina had told Mathilda that she ought to see what the University buildings and the streets that surrounded them looked like during the school term when everyone was not off on holiday. Mathilda figured that she would just need to take her word for it. Though after seeing Berlin, she already had a good idea of what the crush of humanity felt like when there were thousands of people in one place. Ina had told her that she was currently a Veterinary Technician and was studying to become a Veterinarian. Mathilda wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but was happy to take her word for it.
Minutes later, they were on the road out of Breslau. There was music playing on the radio that was being sung in a language that Mathilda didn’t understand. Ina seemed to love the song though and was batting her thumbs on the steering wheel in time with the drums. Instead, she just looked out the window as the houses grew more and more scattered as they passed out of the ring of suburbs that surrounded the city. Mathilda was looking forward to getting back to the Richthofen Estate, playing with Freyja and her puppies was a big part of her day, no matter what had happened over the previous hours that made it all seem to go away. According to Ina, part of the long-term project involving the Akita bloodlines involved Freyja because they figured that another Spitz breed like the Siberian Husky was the best choice. The Japanese had attempted to use German Shepherd or Saint Bernard dogs for that purpose in the past, but the results had not been great.
“Christian asked how you are doing” Ina said, “I told him that you were assisting me and being a big help.”
“You talked to Christian?” Mathilda asked, “Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Ina asked in reply, “I talk to him on the phone every couple of days if he remembers. They keep him pretty busy in Potsdam.”
This was news to Mathilda. She had met Christian Weise weeks earlier when he had come with Wulfstan to talk their father out of some sort of idiocy. Later she had snuck into the Potsdam Barracks, much to everyone’s consternation, Christian had been one of the people arguing on her behalf. He was Wulfstan’s Koryonos, though Opa had told Mathilda that the term Feldwebel was used these days. It meant more or less the same thing. If he was talking to Ina all the time, then that meant…
“Christian is your suitor?” Mathilda asked.
Ina heard that and laughed.
“I think he would like to be” Ina said, “But like most men he is a bit scared of Opa.”
“He should be” Mathilda replied.
Ina found that amusing. Even Mathilda had heard much said about Manfred von Richthofen, though he insisted that all the children on the estate refer to him as Opa, a term for Grandfather, regardless of if they were of his blood. A great warrior and hunter in his youth, he certainly deserved to be given all respect due to him. Trying to measure up to a man like that by courting his granddaughter would be daunting.
“If Opa didn’t approve of Christian then he would have sent him packing the times he has come to visit” Ina said, “There is also the House Order medal that Opa gave him, that was as close to an endorsement as that old goat would give anyone.”
Mathilda’s mother had told her about the complex dance that went on between men and women as they progressed from introductions, to courtship, and eventually to marriage. She had said that one day Mathilda would experience that for herself. Living in an obscure corner of the Baltic Coast where she saw the same people every day and all of them were far older than her that had been little more than an abstraction.
18th August 1972
Breslau, Silesia
The statue in the center of Breslau was of a soldier, he was standing with a rifle slung over his shoulder. Even before Mathilda saw the face, she could see that the man’s posture radiated exhaustion. The face was blank, expressionless. That seemed very eerie to her.
“That is a monument to a battle that was fought here thirty years ago” Ina said when Mathilda asked about it. “Opa burned down the house to keep the Russians from capturing it.”
“Oh” Mathilda replied, as she followed Ina to the car.
“My father was here, or at least he must have been because his Unit was” Ina said, “Of course, it is one of those things that he never talks about.”
With that, Ina unlocked the door to her car. It was a VW Bergwind, the strange vehicle that was the size of a compact car but had a cargo bed like a lorry. They were fairly common out in the countryside, here in the city it got them weird looks. Not that Ina cared though. She had come into the city to submit the week’s paperwork and Mathilda had come along. There also had been an errand that Ina had needed to run in the University’s Administration Center. Both those things had been outside Mathilda’s experience. The first had involved a large veterinary clinic and she had been amazed that so much effort was going into caring for animals. The second involved a massive building that was empty for the most part. Ina had told Mathilda that she ought to see what the University buildings and the streets that surrounded them looked like during the school term when everyone was not off on holiday. Mathilda figured that she would just need to take her word for it. Though after seeing Berlin, she already had a good idea of what the crush of humanity felt like when there were thousands of people in one place. Ina had told her that she was currently a Veterinary Technician and was studying to become a Veterinarian. Mathilda wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but was happy to take her word for it.
Minutes later, they were on the road out of Breslau. There was music playing on the radio that was being sung in a language that Mathilda didn’t understand. Ina seemed to love the song though and was batting her thumbs on the steering wheel in time with the drums. Instead, she just looked out the window as the houses grew more and more scattered as they passed out of the ring of suburbs that surrounded the city. Mathilda was looking forward to getting back to the Richthofen Estate, playing with Freyja and her puppies was a big part of her day, no matter what had happened over the previous hours that made it all seem to go away. According to Ina, part of the long-term project involving the Akita bloodlines involved Freyja because they figured that another Spitz breed like the Siberian Husky was the best choice. The Japanese had attempted to use German Shepherd or Saint Bernard dogs for that purpose in the past, but the results had not been great.
“Christian asked how you are doing” Ina said, “I told him that you were assisting me and being a big help.”
“You talked to Christian?” Mathilda asked, “Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Ina asked in reply, “I talk to him on the phone every couple of days if he remembers. They keep him pretty busy in Potsdam.”
This was news to Mathilda. She had met Christian Weise weeks earlier when he had come with Wulfstan to talk their father out of some sort of idiocy. Later she had snuck into the Potsdam Barracks, much to everyone’s consternation, Christian had been one of the people arguing on her behalf. He was Wulfstan’s Koryonos, though Opa had told Mathilda that the term Feldwebel was used these days. It meant more or less the same thing. If he was talking to Ina all the time, then that meant…
“Christian is your suitor?” Mathilda asked.
Ina heard that and laughed.
“I think he would like to be” Ina said, “But like most men he is a bit scared of Opa.”
“He should be” Mathilda replied.
Ina found that amusing. Even Mathilda had heard much said about Manfred von Richthofen, though he insisted that all the children on the estate refer to him as Opa, a term for Grandfather, regardless of if they were of his blood. A great warrior and hunter in his youth, he certainly deserved to be given all respect due to him. Trying to measure up to a man like that by courting his granddaughter would be daunting.
“If Opa didn’t approve of Christian then he would have sent him packing the times he has come to visit” Ina said, “There is also the House Order medal that Opa gave him, that was as close to an endorsement as that old goat would give anyone.”
Mathilda’s mother had told her about the complex dance that went on between men and women as they progressed from introductions, to courtship, and eventually to marriage. She had said that one day Mathilda would experience that for herself. Living in an obscure corner of the Baltic Coast where she saw the same people every day and all of them were far older than her that had been little more than an abstraction.
Apparently Mathilda is warming up to Ina and the way Ina is not talking down to her.
Probably Hans, Soren, and Jost has seen that statue in Breslau and maybe at the dedication for it and their reactions to it maybe less than family friendly.
There is going to be a brutal selection process on what puppies are going to be selected to be bred as the need for a consistent standard in size, shape, color of the coat and it's pattern is going to be the primay concern going foward.
Mathilda could be given one of the puppies not selected just as Nella and Nan got the runt of the litter from the time Rauchbeir sired a litter.
This is a way to tell Mathilda that she always has a home at Opa's because it is also her puppy's home.
Still shipping Christian and Ina but until Ina finishes her education it is going to be on the back burner and Christian may find himself being pushed to go in to Officer traing.
Probably Hans, Soren, and Jost has seen that statue in Breslau and maybe at the dedication for it and their reactions to it maybe less than family friendly.
There is going to be a brutal selection process on what puppies are going to be selected to be bred as the need for a consistent standard in size, shape, color of the coat and it's pattern is going to be the primay concern going foward.
Mathilda could be given one of the puppies not selected just as Nella and Nan got the runt of the litter from the time Rauchbeir sired a litter.
This is a way to tell Mathilda that she always has a home at Opa's because it is also her puppy's home.
Still shipping Christian and Ina but until Ina finishes her education it is going to be on the back burner and Christian may find himself being pushed to go in to Officer traing.
Part 128, 2169
Chapter Two Thousand One Hundred Sixty-Nine
18th August 1972
Washington DC
A Friday afternoon was usually the most boring time of the week. Everyone knew that hardly anyone read the Saturday Editions, so whenever the movers and shakers in DC had something that they knew they were obligated to release in a statement they typically did it on Friday evenings to limit public response. Things could not have been more different this week at the Washington Post as Bob Woodward was still trying to figure out exactly what he had just witnessed. He had tried to explain it to his Editor but had been met with disbelief. His source for the story he had been working on over the last week had been gunned down by the Director of the Goddamned FBI in cold blood. At the suggestion of his source, he had brought along photographer to a place where he could watch the meeting unseen. The photographer had captured the shooting and what had followed. What they had was nothing less than John Aleshire planting a gun on the body of Woodward’s source.
They had the who and what. Both of those were bombshells. What they didn’t have though, was why this had happened and if they went to press with just what they had, they were in danger of getting scooped by whoever got the rest of the story first.
That was when Woodward noticed the package on his desk. A note attached simply read; This is the rest of it, have fun.
It only took a few seconds after opening the damned thing that Woodward discovered the shocking identity of his mysterious source, but it was the photographs and documentation that caused the blood to run from his face. This wasn’t simply a case of one cold blooded murder. There were names, dates, and financial records that spelled out exactly what had happened and why. This wasn’t just any bombshell; it was a fucking atomic bomb…
A few hours earlier.
For his entire life, John Dillinger had known that a Death Sentence was inevitable. He just figured that it wouldn’t play out the way that it did. His Doctor had called him at the V8 Club as he had been preparing for what was expected to be a wild evening as an up-and-coming American band was scheduled to appear that night. They had been expecting a packed house, Electrola was there to record the show and there was even a team there to broadcast the event live. Something about how the Doctor had told him that he needed to drop everything and come in immediately had raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
At least the Doctor had the decency to tell him to his face what the verdict had been. Pancreatic Cancer, inoperable and there were few treatment options available. He had been told very matter of fact that he had at best a few weeks to put his affairs in order. For Dillinger, that simply wasn’t good enough. To die quietly in a corner of Berlin, with a Jazz funeral and no one knowing that it was a prison that he had been trapped in for decades. He wanted the story known and some measure of justice for himself. The trouble was that most of his jailers were dead or had long retired. In America, they had figured that he had drowned in the San Francisco Bay years earlier. That thought gave him a sudden idea. It wasn’t the people he needed to go after, but the institutions that they had built. For years, he had been the fly on the wall at the meetings of “Imperial Shipping” and had half-heartedly maintained an “insurance policy” against a rainy day. Well, it was pouring.
He had all the evidence of what Johann Schultz considered his proudest achievement. It wasn’t until he had asked about the man in question that he had realized just how releasing that information the right way would blow apart both the BND in Germany and the FBI in America. Both were institutions he had reasons to dislike after so many decades. Booking a flight to New York had been simple enough. He had burned his passport and anything else that connected him to his life in Germany shortly after landing. John Ellis had ceased to exist at that moment and for the first time in years he was back to who he had once been.
Traveling to Washington DC had been simple enough. He had spent the following week passing information off to that kid Woodward, who had eagerly eaten up whatever he had fed him. Finally, he had passed a bit of information to John Aleshire of the sort that he couldn’t afford to ignore. Sitting on a park bench in the National Mall near the Washington Monument, Dillinger couldn’t help but notice that it was a nice day. Normally this time of year, Washington DC was uncomfortably humid. Today, wasn’t so bad. There was a bit of something in the air that suggested that Autumn was just around the corner.
“You have a lot of nerve” Dillinger heard a voice growl. Looking up he saw John Aleshire, AKA Johann Alscher. Dillinger had sent him a copy of a document that spelled out exactly how Aleshire had worked to stymie the investigation into the murders of J. Edger Hoover and Clyde Tolson.
“No one likes to learn just how short the leash they are on is” Dillinger said as he stood up to look Aleshire right in the eye. “You think that your friends over there will like hearing this conversation?”
There were a pair of G-Men standing just out of earshot. Dillinger had been out of the country for decades, but those pricks still looked exactly the same.
“What the Hell do you want?” Aleshire demanded. It was clear from the look in his eye that he was basically a trapped animal. Which was exactly what Dillinger wanted.
“A man who I had the unfortunate privilege of having as my jailor was fond of saying that even criminals can be patriots” Dillinger said, “I might be an old crook, but at least I am not one of worst traitors in history. Judas Iscariot and Benedict Arnold ain’t got nothing on you.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about” Aleshire lied.
“Oh, bullshit” Dillinger replied, “You have spent your entire career looking over your shoulder, waiting for this day.”
That was when Aleshire changed tact. “If you are so smart and if I am what you are accusing me of. What does any foreign actor gain from having me in this position?” He asked, pretending that Dillinger didn’t know exactly what he was.
“Just having your butt in the Director’s chair is a triumph for your old friend Johann Schultz” Dillinger said, and Aleshire’s face had the blood drain from it. “Did you know that the Kaiser knighted him for his service? What do you think that you are going get? The gas chamber or the electric chair?”
Dillinger could see that he had really gotten under Aleshire’s skin with that last comment.
“Think about it” Dillinger said leaning forward and the tone of his voice needling Aleshire. “Everyone else gets to have their legacies and reputations intact. You get shit because that it all you are and ever will be.”
Dillinger laughed at that as Aleshire face grew red, eyes filled with rage.
“Do your wife and children know?” Dillinger asked poking Aleshire in the chest. “Or will it come as a surprise when they have to change their names and move far away. Perhaps your friends in the BND will offer to relocate them to…”
The shot came as a surprise, but it shouldn’t have. Dillinger felt himself crumple to the ground. He caught a glimpse of a reflection where he had told Woodward to wait. Looking up, he looked down the barrel of Aleshire’s gun and the finger that was tightening on the trigger. If Aleshire were smart he would have turned that gun on himself, Dillinger thought to himself just before the gun went off.
18th August 1972
Washington DC
A Friday afternoon was usually the most boring time of the week. Everyone knew that hardly anyone read the Saturday Editions, so whenever the movers and shakers in DC had something that they knew they were obligated to release in a statement they typically did it on Friday evenings to limit public response. Things could not have been more different this week at the Washington Post as Bob Woodward was still trying to figure out exactly what he had just witnessed. He had tried to explain it to his Editor but had been met with disbelief. His source for the story he had been working on over the last week had been gunned down by the Director of the Goddamned FBI in cold blood. At the suggestion of his source, he had brought along photographer to a place where he could watch the meeting unseen. The photographer had captured the shooting and what had followed. What they had was nothing less than John Aleshire planting a gun on the body of Woodward’s source.
They had the who and what. Both of those were bombshells. What they didn’t have though, was why this had happened and if they went to press with just what they had, they were in danger of getting scooped by whoever got the rest of the story first.
That was when Woodward noticed the package on his desk. A note attached simply read; This is the rest of it, have fun.
It only took a few seconds after opening the damned thing that Woodward discovered the shocking identity of his mysterious source, but it was the photographs and documentation that caused the blood to run from his face. This wasn’t simply a case of one cold blooded murder. There were names, dates, and financial records that spelled out exactly what had happened and why. This wasn’t just any bombshell; it was a fucking atomic bomb…
A few hours earlier.
For his entire life, John Dillinger had known that a Death Sentence was inevitable. He just figured that it wouldn’t play out the way that it did. His Doctor had called him at the V8 Club as he had been preparing for what was expected to be a wild evening as an up-and-coming American band was scheduled to appear that night. They had been expecting a packed house, Electrola was there to record the show and there was even a team there to broadcast the event live. Something about how the Doctor had told him that he needed to drop everything and come in immediately had raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
At least the Doctor had the decency to tell him to his face what the verdict had been. Pancreatic Cancer, inoperable and there were few treatment options available. He had been told very matter of fact that he had at best a few weeks to put his affairs in order. For Dillinger, that simply wasn’t good enough. To die quietly in a corner of Berlin, with a Jazz funeral and no one knowing that it was a prison that he had been trapped in for decades. He wanted the story known and some measure of justice for himself. The trouble was that most of his jailers were dead or had long retired. In America, they had figured that he had drowned in the San Francisco Bay years earlier. That thought gave him a sudden idea. It wasn’t the people he needed to go after, but the institutions that they had built. For years, he had been the fly on the wall at the meetings of “Imperial Shipping” and had half-heartedly maintained an “insurance policy” against a rainy day. Well, it was pouring.
He had all the evidence of what Johann Schultz considered his proudest achievement. It wasn’t until he had asked about the man in question that he had realized just how releasing that information the right way would blow apart both the BND in Germany and the FBI in America. Both were institutions he had reasons to dislike after so many decades. Booking a flight to New York had been simple enough. He had burned his passport and anything else that connected him to his life in Germany shortly after landing. John Ellis had ceased to exist at that moment and for the first time in years he was back to who he had once been.
Traveling to Washington DC had been simple enough. He had spent the following week passing information off to that kid Woodward, who had eagerly eaten up whatever he had fed him. Finally, he had passed a bit of information to John Aleshire of the sort that he couldn’t afford to ignore. Sitting on a park bench in the National Mall near the Washington Monument, Dillinger couldn’t help but notice that it was a nice day. Normally this time of year, Washington DC was uncomfortably humid. Today, wasn’t so bad. There was a bit of something in the air that suggested that Autumn was just around the corner.
“You have a lot of nerve” Dillinger heard a voice growl. Looking up he saw John Aleshire, AKA Johann Alscher. Dillinger had sent him a copy of a document that spelled out exactly how Aleshire had worked to stymie the investigation into the murders of J. Edger Hoover and Clyde Tolson.
“No one likes to learn just how short the leash they are on is” Dillinger said as he stood up to look Aleshire right in the eye. “You think that your friends over there will like hearing this conversation?”
There were a pair of G-Men standing just out of earshot. Dillinger had been out of the country for decades, but those pricks still looked exactly the same.
“What the Hell do you want?” Aleshire demanded. It was clear from the look in his eye that he was basically a trapped animal. Which was exactly what Dillinger wanted.
“A man who I had the unfortunate privilege of having as my jailor was fond of saying that even criminals can be patriots” Dillinger said, “I might be an old crook, but at least I am not one of worst traitors in history. Judas Iscariot and Benedict Arnold ain’t got nothing on you.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about” Aleshire lied.
“Oh, bullshit” Dillinger replied, “You have spent your entire career looking over your shoulder, waiting for this day.”
That was when Aleshire changed tact. “If you are so smart and if I am what you are accusing me of. What does any foreign actor gain from having me in this position?” He asked, pretending that Dillinger didn’t know exactly what he was.
“Just having your butt in the Director’s chair is a triumph for your old friend Johann Schultz” Dillinger said, and Aleshire’s face had the blood drain from it. “Did you know that the Kaiser knighted him for his service? What do you think that you are going get? The gas chamber or the electric chair?”
Dillinger could see that he had really gotten under Aleshire’s skin with that last comment.
“Think about it” Dillinger said leaning forward and the tone of his voice needling Aleshire. “Everyone else gets to have their legacies and reputations intact. You get shit because that it all you are and ever will be.”
Dillinger laughed at that as Aleshire face grew red, eyes filled with rage.
“Do your wife and children know?” Dillinger asked poking Aleshire in the chest. “Or will it come as a surprise when they have to change their names and move far away. Perhaps your friends in the BND will offer to relocate them to…”
The shot came as a surprise, but it shouldn’t have. Dillinger felt himself crumple to the ground. He caught a glimpse of a reflection where he had told Woodward to wait. Looking up, he looked down the barrel of Aleshire’s gun and the finger that was tightening on the trigger. If Aleshire were smart he would have turned that gun on himself, Dillinger thought to himself just before the gun went off.
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Von Schmidt basically forced him into helping the Abwehr (and later BND) with a threat of extradition, I am guessing what woodward received was the proof of aleshire's treason (and his own identity) but not the autobiography that is still in Sarah's hands.