Also he should talk to Kurt about using cavalry troops and see if that is a good idea or if this is just someone IOTL remembering reading about and seeing pictures of the SADF patrolling on horseback in the 70;s and 80's.

There would have been sufficient ability for the German Army to recall the use of mounted infantry by the British with some success during the 2nd Boer War, particularly among colonial troops and especially the Australian Light Horse units. Considering ITTL Australia's good relationship with Germany, there would be the opportunity for the Army to interview Australian light horse veterans about tactics and operations in the last South African War.
 
I think that for the ground support mission that the Luftwaffe is planning is a bit of overkill using jets, but the Luftwaffe does have justify expenditure of having jets.

Note that this is also an excellent chance to try the new toys under real conditions, as well as to develop COIN tactics.
 
Part 53, Chapter 716
Chapter Seven Hundred Sixteen


25th February 1949

Berlin

One thing that Helene would never forget was the look on Hans face when he got out of the car and saw her standing on the stoop of her parent’s house. When he’d left it had been early August when he’d left, and Helene hadn’t even been aware she was pregnant at that time, but she must have been a month along at that point. Now seven months later things were a bit more obvious. “Remember that weekend when Manfred was at Marcella’s and we had the house all to ourselves?” Helene asked. That was purely speculation on her part, but it did line up nicely.

“Not going to forget now, am I?” Hans replied, “You have to admit it was a nice weekend.”

Helene just rolled her eyes at that. Yes, it had been a nice, romantic weekend but she could have lived without what had come after. She was about to say something tart when Hans kissed her, as best he could around her belly. While she was still in his arms she whispered, “This is never happening again, I’ve already made the appointments for you” into his ear.

“Poppa!” Manfred yelled and hugged Hans around the knees. Picking up his son, Hans realized that Manfred was bigger and heaver than he remembered. Ilse, Gia, Douglas and Kat were standing in the entryway with Uncle Klaus and Helene’s Mother letting them have their moment. He really was home.

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

Kat was pleased on the drive home. Hans homecoming and the dinner that followed had gone well. Helene was in better spirits than she had been in months. That had gone far better than some of the other areas of her life. Her protégées had taken the whole notion of solidary a touch too far and had been entirely too proud of their dubious accomplishment. Fortunately for them, no man wanted to admit that he’d gotten beaten to a pulp by three angry young women.

Kat had pieced the story together from what she’d heard from the Police and what the girls themselves had said. While all the girls had come from backgrounds of abuse, neglect and abandonment, Magdalena Foerstner, Leni to her friends, had survived some incredibly horrendous things even by that scale. From a father who regarded her as a mere possession when he hadn’t been neglecting to feed her or forcing her to beg in the streets to a mother who was almost entirely absent from her life. Early on she’d discovered she could escape into the fantasy of books and by the time Kat had discovered her, she was a voracious reader. The difficulty was in what Erma Tangeman had described to Kat as repeating patterns. Leni, more than any of the others had difficulty forming healthy relationships. Mixed with the information that Tangeman had pounded into the girl’s heads, the education and marriage come first message that Tangeman had favored, it became problematic. Simply put, Leni had a terrible tendency of being attracted to jerks and the other girls felt compelled to help. This time, she’d dated a fellow student at University who’d only been interested because he wanted to get in her pants. When she said wait, he’d dumped her immediately.

The others had then retaliated, and Kat was left needed to have a strong word or two with them. Part of the problem was that Kat herself did sort of agree that the individual in question did deserve the beating that he’d received. She also agreed with Asia, Leni needed better taste in men.


Washington D.C.

They had finally had a break in the case that was provided by the laboratory. The sniper in the Truman shooting had made a mistake that was so obvious that they might have missed it. Gun oil of all things. The sniper or whoever had reconditioned the rifle for him had used an off the shelf brand that was unavailable in Germany. While that still left a large pool of suspects, it narrowed the range considerably and eliminated the German Military, but the Germans had still stuck around observing and helping with the investigation wherever they could. Then John remembered that they were in this to look for their lost Colonel. He was reminded of the US Naval Academy at Annapolis going all out for the remains of John Paul Jones and realized that was exactly what this was. While it didn’t fit for shadowy outfits like the ones based out of Judenbach to erect a shrine like the US Navy had, he could imagine that they had plans for something else fitting their ways but equally audacious. There was however a rub.

“The US Military doesn’t have organized Sniper training?” Sven asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Most of the Generals don’t like snipers” John said, “Ours or yours. The US Marine Corps has been talking about setting something up but for them it’s a matter of funding.”

“So, we need to find an Army or Marine sniper who is not officially listed as such?”

“You make that sound extremely terrible” John replied.

“He does have point” Ed said, “It would be easier if we had a list like that, just see who came into a great deal of money lately.”

“Perhaps” Sven said, “But if I had planned that assassination I’d make sure such a man wouldn’t live to spend a pfennig of that money.”

That was harsh, but John couldn’t disagree with the hard, cold logic. The man they were looking for was very likely to already be dead.
 
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Two possible avenues of investigation:

First, AFAIK the US Army and Marine Corps paid enlisted soldiers an additional $2-$5 per month for qualifying at the Expert level therefore an initial list of 'persons of possible interest' could be derived.

Second, the American community of truly world-class marksmen is not very large and a significant fraction of them either attended the National Matches at Camp Perry or would be known by those who did. A contingent of English-speaking German snipers attending the Matches as observers might pick up word of somebody who had dropped out of sight.
 
A man who was good enough to plan for something like that might have taken precautions; snipers like to have an exit strategy. The ones who hired him may be ruthless, but they aren't stupid, so they would know that their shooter might escape a hit...and if he did, would likely go looking for whoever did it.
Finding out if a marksman has ended up dead or missing, or if any enforcers have croaked lately, will be a good line to investigate. Missing might be dead--or might be that he's left the area, or even the country. Like in Day of the Jackal, whoever does that job can never work again.
 
Doesn't Helene know that it is the duty of every German women to bear as many children as possible for the Father.... wait that is an alternate timeline where Germany looses WWI and becomes a dystopia where unspeakable crimes against humanity are committed.
 
Covering up an assassination attempt by trying to murder your assassin is not a good plan. It just adds more potential failure points to the plot.

I am surprised this isn't on the Evil Overlord list somewhere.
 

FBKampfer

Banned
Covering up an assassination attempt by trying to murder your assassin is not a good plan. It just adds more potential failure points to the plot.

I am surprised this isn't on the Evil Overlord list somewhere.


Depends. Sometimes additional complications are necessary when the alternative leads only to bad outcomes, or has a high chance of failure to begin with.


Complication is not the same as difficulty, and complication does not inherently increase the odds of failure.

Frankly, if I were the one planning the hit, everyone below a certain level gets iced as soon as they come in to get paid. No money trail, no hunting everyone down, etc.

Team/individuals involved come in for debrief/payment, reliables with silenced SMG's take the whole lot out all at once, everyone goes into a van, and that van goes into the ocean at a remote location along the coast.
 
Covering up an assassination attempt by trying to murder your assassin is not a good plan. It just adds more potential failure points to the plot.

I am surprised this isn't on the Evil Overlord list somewhere.
It is on the list but it's way below the important stuff, secret lair, incompetent henchmen, monologueing, over complicated plans etc.
 
Luckily a certain American sniper who could have been a very dangerous opponent is only 7 years old at this point.
 
Helene, Helene, shouldn't you have discussed those apointments first with your husband before making them?
"Hello hubby, I aranged your Castration!" Great welcome Message.
(I'm aware its a hyperbole)
 
Part 53, Chapter 717
Chapter Seven Hundred Seventeen


1st March 1949

Berlin

Helene had to have done her homework beforehand, God knows she had months to do it while Hans was in South Africa. The saving grace was that Soren and Jost were in South Africa otherwise he would be sure that they would have dozens of off color comments to make about this. He could just imagine Jost making cracks about him being able to easily sing the high notes of the National Anthem and Soren telling him that he’d still be able to chase squirrels through the park even though it obviously wasn’t the same thing as what they would be alluding to.

Apparently, Helene had spoken to the University Clinic and they had referred to a specialist. A Urologist with seeming no sense of humor and completely unaware of the irony of his name, Doctor Franz Blank. Having worked with English speakers for the last several months Hans was acutely aware of that detail. He could just imagine the smile on Helene’s face and the light in her eyes as she had made this appointment.

“So, Herr von Mischner” Doctor Bank said, “Your wife told me that with your second on the way the two of you have decided that you do not want any more.”

Actually, Helene had decided. Hans and Helene had been talking about this in the months prior to his deployment and the latest pregnancy, she’d had a choice made for her and she wasn’t taking no for an answer because of that. Helene had made it clear that he was being given the choice of this or a having Helene performing the same surgery on him with a rusty butter knife. “Something like that” Hans replied.

“Your wife couldn’t join us?” Blank asked.

“She is due to have her baby at any second and has been advised to stay in bed until it’s time.”

“Very well then” Blank said, “This is just the consultation today where I explain what we are going to be doing and letting you know that even with a simple outpatient procedure like this there are risks.”

“Okay” Hans said with some trepidation.

“I read in your file what your profession is” Blank said, “I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t warn you that we’ve had some incidents where individuals needlessly trying to maintain the appearance of masculinity have done stupid things. I would advise against that.”

“Such as?” Hans asked, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“I can’t go into specifics, but don’t try to jog home afterwards” Blank said with a completely straight face.

“Is that a joke?” Hans asked.

“I would never joke about such a serious matter.”

“I see” Hans said, suddenly remembering that Kat had been extremely enthusiastic about picking him up from the hospital later this week. Kat driving and very likely with two or three of her foundlings in the back seat while Hans sat there with the worst case of blue balls in his life…

Suddenly the sort of jokes that Jost and Soren might make didn’t seem so bad.

“It’s good you are taking this matter seriously” Blank said.


2nd March 1949

Near Helen, North Georgia Mountains, Georgia State, USA

It had taken the entire weekend, but they had managed to get through and eliminate tens of thousands of suspects. The US Army and Marine Corps had offered cash incentives to Soldiers and Marines to earn expert marksmanship badges. The man they were looking for had made a shot from over a mile away, that was far beyond merely expert. There were various competition shooting matches, the most prestigious being held in Camp Perry in Ohio. As they discovered the people who ran those competitions were less than inclined to cooperate with the FBI, a hangover from the stained legacy of J. Edger Hoover.

Curiously, it had been Sven Werth who’d gotten that cooperation through Piers Sjostedt. A single call from General Patton and they had the list of names that had needed. Then all day Monday had been spent making phone calls. They were looking for someone who’d suddenly come into a great deal of money and/or dropped out of sight recently. By evening they had a prime suspect and they were on their way to Atlanta. The air of the city itself had felt heavy, like when a thunderstorm was about to break.

Sven looked out the window of the car he was riding in. As a BII agent and as an Officer in the German Federal Police he’d traveled extensively. Even so, what he was seeing in these small American towns was a shocking amount of poverty even by international standards and there was evidence of brutally enforced segregation everywhere. The man they were looking for, Jonas McCrae, had a cousin who owned property somewhere in these hills. There were three cars, ten FBI Agents along with Sven and Gunther. There was another car that the FBI didn’t know about, but it was Sven’s hope that wouldn’t be needed.

Getting out of the cars on the road, they walked up narrow track that supposedly led to the cabin back up in the hollow. The idea was that they would take McCrae by surprise, but with the amount of noise they making Sven doubted that would happen. If McCrae was canny enough to keep himself alive when his former employers probably wanted him dead, then he was unlikely to be taken by surprise. Which meant that…

“Halt” Sven said to John, everyone else stopped as well. “Mind where you step.”

John saw that a trip wire was just ahead of his feet. As he watched Sven followed the wire to the tree where a mousetrap contraption had been nailed to it with what looked like a pistol cartridge. “That’s it?” John asked.

“No” Sven said, “There’s that as well.”

John noticed that there was a wire strung between the trees about five or six yards ahead, four to five feet off the ground. Once the surprise was lost, whoever set off the first trap would attempt to rush the cabin. Running headlong into that.

“Watch for traps, spread the word” John said to Ed, who nodded. It took a few minutes before they started moving again, only to stop again when they found the bear trap. It took more than two hours to make it the mile from the road to the cabin. Standing at the edge of the clearing. They spent a few minutes debating how they should take the cabin. Stepping into the bright late winter sunlight, they only made it a few steps.

“That’s far enough!” A reedy voice yelled. Sven knew that this must be McCrae, while they had been slowed down coming up the hill he’d circled around behind them. Glancing over his shoulder he saw that McCrae had a Browning Automatic Rifle aimed at them.

“We’re only here to ask you a few questions” John said.

“Think I was born yesterday” McCrae said, “That’s a load of hokum.”

This situation was a mess, but John noticed that Sven and Gunther seemed totally calm.

“Here’s what’s going to happen…” McCrae started to say only to have what felt like a rifle muzzle touch the back of his head.

“What’s going to happen, Herr McCrae is that you will come with us quietly and answer the FBI’s questions” Sven said.

“What’s going on here?” McCrae asked as the Browning was roughly taken from him.

“This is Matthias Schmied and Fritz Shafer, the men you attempted to frame for murder” Sven said. McCrae looked over his shoulder at the two men who’d come up behind him without making so much as a whisper. The younger one was aiming a carbine of some kind at him and the older man was holding the Browning.

“God almighty” McCrae muttered.
 
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NICE! I'm sure the murderer is in for a bad time; this is pre Miranda. The FBI might be wondering how the Germans got into position, and why they weren't informed that they were there--but they lived :)
How did Hoover get vacuumed off this life?
 
NICE! I'm sure the murderer is in for a bad time; this is pre Miranda. The FBI might be wondering how the Germans got into position, and why they weren't informed that they were there--but they lived :)
How did Hoover get vacuumed off this life?
Hoover was an (reluctant) asset of the german Abwehr that got made. He's lobsterfeed now.
 
Thanks. I remembered that he'd been compromised, but not that he'd been a cleaned-up loose end. I'm as fond of him as some are of MacArthur or the Alaska class cruisers.
 
The saving grace was that Soren and Jost were in South Africa otherwise he would be sure that they would have dozens of off color comments to make about this. He could just imagine Jost making cracks about him being able to easily sing the high notes of the National Anthem and Soren telling him that he’d still be able to chase squirrels through the park even though it obviously wasn’t the same thing as what they would be alluding to.

I half expect his tank to have something like a set of those truck nuts hanging from them if Jost and Soren catch any wind of it
 
Part 53, Chapter 718
Chapter Seven Hundred Eighteen


7th March 1949

Kyoto, Japan

The last letter from Freddy had filled Suga with envy, he’d said that his parents were sending him to a Berlin Gymnasium for his secondary education. She was aware that many girls her age complained about having to go to school every day, yet Suga would love nothing more than to do that if for no other reason than to have real friends. In response to Freddy’s letter Suga had written back that she was happy for him and left it at that. Instead she wrote about the cherry blossoms that were in the process of blooming until she felt she needed time to come up with more to say.

Putting aside her letter to Prince Friedrich Suga turned to the stack of newspapers. The daily newspapers from around the globe were still dominated by the news that the FBI had made an arrest in the shooting of the American President Truman. Suga had been encouraged to take an interest in world events by her tutors. That was beyond exclusively the things that interested her. The assassination attempt in America was one of those things. An attempt on the life of a political leader wasn’t exactly something unexpected from her perspective, she regularly saw the layers of security that surrounded her father and herself.

The article she was reading in the New York Times was interesting though. It detailed how a team of FBI Agents had tirelessly worked to follow a trail of evidence to the State of Georgia where they arrested a suspect. They also mentioned the German Bundesinterne Intelligenz who had provided able assistance in response to the attempt to put the blame for the assassination attempt on the German military. It was their hope that this would provide the framework for cooperation in the future. Suga knew diplomatic double-speak when she saw despite her age, the German Empire and the United States didn’t have the best relationship these days.


Augusta, Georgia

Once they had the suspect in custody he’d talked about everything in what Sven assumed was an attempt to save his own skin. He’d been observing the interrogations until Senior Agent John Aleshire had gotten what he had needed. It sounded like something from a pulpy thriller, a shadowy cabal attempting to kill a national leader and frame it on another country. The part that Sven was interested in, the rifle, had been passed to Jonas McCrae in Little Rock, Arkansas, by a gunsmith who’d been purposely kept in the dark. The gunsmith said he’d picked up the rifle from the Port of New Orleans in mid-November and had been paid to restore it to working condition. That was where Sven had a break of his own in the missing person case. The gunsmith had reused the crate that the rifle had been shipped in. The crate, with the shipping label still on it were found in the storage space in the back of the gunsmith’s shop. He now had a place to start an investigation in Russia and this time the Russian Government would have no choice but to cooperate.

Before Sven and Gunther rejoined the others in their group who were departing for Berlin that night John had asked a simple question. “Want to go with us when we arrest some bad guys?”

As if Sven would need to even be asked. Seeing justice carried out was why he’d become a policeman.

While not all the conspirators would be present in this place that Sven had learned was a golf course and private club enough would be around to lean on to give them the rest. These men were the powerful captains of industry and the holders of vast wealth. They’d assumed that put them above the law or the concerns of ordinary people. As Sven watched them getting hauled out in handcuffs and marched past the press he saw the looks on their faces when they learned how wrong they were. The FBI Director had flown down from D.C. to personally oversee this circus and was currently giving a lengthy statement to the press.


Berlin

As it turned out Hans was wrong, Kat had not brought any of her girls with her when she’d picked him up. She’d not even bothered to give him any guff over the matter, but he could see the wheels turning behind her eyes and the slight smile on her lips. She was thinking it the entire time and she knew he knew that, so she didn’t feel the need.

Tonight, might be the first time that he’d not felt the need to keep an icepack in his shorts after a couple of days, but that didn’t mean he was having an easy time sleeping. Helene was also having to get up every couple hours to use the bathroom. “Practice for a few weeks from now” She said half-jokingly.

“Don’t even joke about that” Hans replied. As he got back into his side of the bed with a groan. “The things I do for love” He muttered.

“You love me” Helene said in a delighted voice.

“And right now, there is so much to love.”

“Real funny” Helene said, “Any word about how long they’re giving you?”

“Just that I’m here until my family matters get sorted” Hans said, “I don’t know what your father has on the people who approved my leave but apparently he used it.”

“It’s good that he put it to a worthy cause then” Helene replied.

Helene knew that Graf von Richthofen didn’t particularly care for Hans, considering him to be something of a dope. If she had to guess, it was probably her mother leaning on her father that had prompted him to call in some markers, so that the OKH would send Hans home for a few weeks.
 
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