Chapter Two Thousand Two Hundred Eleven
12th April 1973
Münsingen Proving Grounds, Württemberg
The 76th Motorized Artillery Brigade was doing a number on the hill that the 8th Dragoon Brigade was conducting a mock attack on as a live fire exercise. That included the 140th Regiment and Manny was watching through his binoculars as the big 15-centimeter “Evergreen” howitzers were dropping high-explosive shells onto the hilltop. If someone were uneducated, they would think that nothing could survive a bombardment like that. After having lived through the Battle of Paso de San Francisco and been on the receiving end of that sort of barrage, Manny knew better. The man standing next to him, the American who was acting as an Observer in the name of peace and international cooperation, clearly did not. Despite the fact that he was wearing the uniform of US Army Special Forces Studies and Observation Group. Captain North seemed to personify what Manny’s father had told him about how it seemed like a big mouth was almost always attached to an empty head or at least a closed mind. The night before at the formal reception, North had asked Manny about the PLM that he had been wearing. That question was a major faux pas that someone in North’s position should have known better than to ask. Manny had sarcastically replied that it came as a set with his Patagonian War victory medal. North had then asked if they really did things that way and Manny had no idea if the American was really that dim or if he had been yanking Manny’s chain.
It was then as the StuG VIIIs from the 103rd Motorized Artillery and the SpZ-4 APCs started grinding forward as the towed artillery and mortars got into the act. Everything from 10.5-centimeter howitzers and 8-centimeter mortars all the way down to the 55-milimeter “Commando” mortars that had evolved from the old Japanese Knee mortars and 40-milimeter rifle grenades. A huge amount of earth was getting churned up. The StuG remained mostly unchanged in form since the late 30’s, the hull was now the same as the Panzer VIII Leopard I and Krupp had made them by the thousands. The ability to provide direct artillery support to advancing Infantry was always welcome. That much was happening as the three Regiments of the 8th started their charge. As heavy infantry they were all about momentum, once they got moving anything that got in their way was quickly obliterated.
For Manny it was a matter of keeping up with the Company he commanded while making sure that the American he was saddled with was on an extremely short leash as he had been ordered. If the High Command didn’t want North to see anything, why had they saddled Manny with him? As it was, Manny hadn’t even bothered to learn North’s first name and the arrogant twit had not even noticed. He didn’t seem to be the type to see what was going on just past his nose. Like todays live fire exercise having little to no coordination in combined arms for example. As the General in charge of this mess, Uncle Stefan had said that he wanted the men to have a chance to blow off steam after a long winter spent in the Fritz von Below Barracks in Wunsdorf-Zossen. Shooting off several million Marks worth of explosives would do the trick nicely. At the same time, Stefan was with his Staff observing the “battle” looking to see just who showed a bit more initiative than others. In a couple days they would come back and do a more credible job of it when the international observers were gone. Hopefully, they would take those who were easily impressed merely by blowing things up with them.
Looking over his shoulder, Manny saw that Captain North was following him closely. It was rather obvious where he fell among the observers.
Los Angeles, California
“They found him guilty” Big Mike said as he sat down in the passenger seat. The suspension of Frankenstein rocked under his weight.
He knew that Mike was talking about Dicky Scott because the jury had been in deliberation. From here it would the penalty phase of the trial and no matter how it turned out Dicky would be thrown into a cage and wouldn’t be getting out alive. The only question was the method by which that would happen. After decades of irrelevance or the Chamber after the appeals process had run its course.
“Whatever happens next, our involvement is over” Ritchie replied as he pulled a folder of papers out of the center console. “We lock that one up and move on to the next dozen sick fucks.”
Mike chuckled when he heard that. “This is because of the briefing this morning?” He asked, “The Rabbit?”
Of all the absurd things that they had been told during rollcall at the start of the shift, it had been to be on the lookout for a grey or blue Volkswagen Rabbit. There had been hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of cars that matched that description which had rolled off assembly lines over the last decade. No actual description of the suspect beyond his car, but to consider him armed and dangerous. Delightful. Whoever this guy was, Ritchie’s hope was that he would get popped somewhere far away where he wouldn’t become Ritchie’s problem involving multiple appearances in the Courtroom and way too much drama. Since becoming a policeman, Ritchie had learned that getting the headlines wasn’t worth the cost to him personally.