The sun danced over barely oscillating waves as it dipped into the ocean. Jakob tilted his face upward to absorb the damp, salty wind. It slipped around his face and torso. He squinted against the wind and sipped at a Schnapps. An agent approached timidly from behind, dressed in a tuxedo and wearing a speaker behind his ear. Jakob drowned the rest of his drink and turned around.
“Are you ready, Herr Schneider?”
“Yes,” he sighed.
“Do you really want to do this?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“Will you tell the truth?”
Jakob held his agent’s eyes in the dwindling light, starting for the cabin. “Of course.” He disappeared into the crowd of press reporters and cameras. The agent slowly put one hand to his face.
“Ja, Herr Kanzler.”

Fluorescent flashes lit up the interior of the boat. Shadows stretched across the wall, appearing for a fraction of a second. Jakob allowed the press to swarm onto him and remained silent. Questions were shot like rapid machine gun fire, each spurring a reaction in him, but he followed long honored advice: speak when heard. He was escorted to a podium and took a stance. The audience gathered and gradually became silent.
“I have something to say.”
Several tape recorders were extended and set off like time bombs.
“I have spoken with my doctor, and he has diagnosed me with mild schizophrenia.” He waited as the crowd froze in confusion, then exploded in questions.
“Herr Kanzler, how will this affect your administration?”
“I will rely on sufficient advice when needed.”
“Herr Kanzler, will you be receiving treatment?”
“I have begun medication.” He prepared to leave the podium when another reporter barred his way. He drew back, controlling himself. It was the reporter’s duty, after all, to find out everything. That’s how the world turned.
“Herr Kanzler, could you describe your other half? Could he threaten Germany?”
Jakob knew that the question was coming and suppressed a chuckle. There would be no laughing. After all, he was trying to explain to 75 million people that they were being ruled by a schizophrenic.
“Reporter, my answer is simple, yet difficult to grasp. I will tell you the truth, and only the truth.” The reporters froze again, tensely awaiting the answer. The sight of headlines across major German newspapers flashed by his eyes as he watched the reporters. “I share my mind and spirit with the man who shaped Germany today, who changed our future. I am one with the man who causes us eternal shame. The man, Adolf Hitler, is my ‘other half’ and seeks redemption through my actions.” Their silence sunk deeply in the room as he stepped out into his private quarters. As they began discussing again, the agents showed them to their own quarters for the night. However, for each room’s light that went out, a computer screen flashed on and a gamma-wave connection with major printing presses throughout the world were made.
Jakob sat on his bed, caressing his scalp, neck and shoulders. Beside him, ice popped in brandy. One the desk stood a lamp and a photo. Hitler glared at the ceiling, tilted back on a velvet folding prop. The new chancellor watched the photo thoughtfully, smiling for the first time that night. With a sip of the drink he adjusted his position so that he was directly in front of the picture. He took the metal frame up in his free hand and brought Hitler’s face closer to his own.
“You’re not such a bad guy after all,” he murmured. The picture was placed back onto the bedside table top. “Now the magic begins.”

Horst Meier enjoyed the stay at the cruise ship but was eager to report back to the Süddeutsche Zeitung press. He had not taken his PC with him to the meeting. After all, since the Chancellor had called all the major papers out to the middle of the Atlantic to make a statement he might not have wanted the formalities of modern technology to be brought along. His old tape recorder sufficed. As soon as the ship docked in Spain, he was on his way back to Stuttgart. It was three in the afternoon as he burst through the glass front doors of the building. Staff writers sat at computers, reciting articles into automatic word-recognition software. Several friends emerged with Herbert Bleibtreu, the top dog in the press, sucking on cold coffee. He spotted Meier and signaled him over, still in discussion.
“Alright, what have you got?”
Meier began to stammer, suddenly unable to relate the news. “Chancellor Schneider..he is..he said that he..Hitler..”
“What! Out with it!”
Instead, Meier brought up the recorder and thumbed the play button.
“I share my mind and spirit with the same man..” Discussion around the office suite suddenly stopped, each writer, editor, columnist and janitor turning to listen. “..the man, Adolf Hitler is my other half..”
“Holy shit!” Bleibtreu spat, sloshing coffee over his two hundred dollar shoes. “Holy shit, he’s nuts!”
“He didn’t look like it to me,” Meier said quietly.
“Why not?
“Well, he was calm, thoughtful and had self control when I confronted him about who it was.”
The tape recorder continued playing, rolling on in silence. A quiet hiss dominated the dead press. Bleibtreu slowly retreated to his office when Meier took half a step after him.
“So, can I have the article?”
He waited stiffly in the silence, looking into the eyes of his future. “Yeah, you can have it.”

Article after article around the world rolled out, each tainted one way or the other. Some said the German Chancellor was insane, others that he was a neo-nazi that was insane, and many defended him. Meier kept close watch on the progress, privately rooting for Schneider the whole time. He had seen the Chancellor’s eyes and was sure that they were sane.
“So..what are you saying?” Bleibtreu asked one morning over coffee. “That he’s a sane schizophrenic?”
“Yes, I believe he knows what he’s doing.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Haven’t you seen him on TV? He can decipher right and wrong. Would an insane schizophrenic ask for an outsider’s advice when making a decision? Especially an emotional one? He’s a schiz, he knows he’s a schiz, but still wants to live his life as a Chancellor. Because he can.”
“It’s not my place to decide whether or not the Chancellor is fit enough to control Germany.”
“He’ll prove himself.”
Bleibtreu blew softly on the top film of coffee, hunched over in thought. Meier stood from the table and excused himself. The boss nodded and waved, still blowing and thinking.

Weeks later, Chancellor Jakob Schneider took a stance at the podium, this time facing 100 times as many people as before. Surrounded by agents and bodyguards, he closed his eyes in the brief moment before he spoke. Hitler’s sharp eyes pierced through time, prodding, silently demanding. As the last of the audience filed into place among live TV cameras and gammaphones, he opened his eyes. Some reporters were watching him carefully and curiously, taking notes.
Idiots.
He would have to listen to Hitler directly to get this to work, or it all might fail at once. It would certainly be the press which would do him in.
“My country, you have read in the papers and seen on TV gossip about me being a neo-nazi, or at least an insane one. I have decided to clear up my earlier statement-perhaps many of you have forgotten: I am your Chancellor.”
He waited for it to sink in, then resumed.
“Now that you understand my situation, I’ll step into more personal business. I have been diagnosed with mild schizophrenia. Normally, this would be endangering to my actions, but I have made sure that there will be advising over every decision I may make. Whether or not I am nuts, I leave it to you to trust me. My doctors and advisors, somehow, have decided that I am qualified to continue my office.
“I have contacted my other half and spoken to him about my problem, that he got the wrong guy. As you all probably well know, that other half of me has identified himself as Adolf Hitler. Naturally, there’s a potential threat. However, I have brought proof that Hitler has changed. Dr. Rasmußen?” Jakob took his seat, replaced with his professional psychological analyst, renowned for working for major world leaders.
“Well, this is quite an extreme situation, but there is proof that he shares a mental link to the treacherous totalitarian dictator, Hitler. I have kept my wits to explore Chancellor Schneider’s psyche and have run dozens of experiments with the newest technology, the ‘DreamCatcher.’ Essentially, I have elaborate proof that there is indeed another being present, and that he is Hitler.” The crowd stirred. He called over it, “I also have recorded something that Hitler has said, a statement.”
Here it is, Jakob thought. He had gotten word that Hitler made a statement, and that it was in turn recorded, but the doctor had saved it for the Big Moment. He stiffened slightly in his seat.
“Could we have the audio…?” the Ph.D. asked over his shoulder. The sound of a deeper, more powerful voice rose in the speakers. The voice was Jakob’s but the accent was trilled with rolling “r”s, a barking cry.
“I have come again; I aim reach to whoever hears me, and for the thousandth time, I ask blindly for another chance. Please, let me through, Jakob, let me come alive. I will not fail you.”
Each word was absorbed into the audience. A chill ran through Jakob’s spine. Before the reporters could regain themselves, Adolf continued:
“I have seen from a sightless eye my deeds. I have been punished severely by our Lord. And in His eyes I have repented to such an extent that He has given me a second chance. Now, all I ask of you is to be the receiver of such a gift. Be my receiver, Jakob.”
He sat bolt upright in his chair, grasping the armrests tight enough to make it creak. The ambassador from Holland turned to him, blinking in surprise. Jakob saw nor heard anything of what was going on. Deep in unopened rooms, in the moldy pitch black of a dusty psyche, a flashlight flicked on. That was all he could see.

Jakob had been in office for two years with the press swaying both directions over the schizophrenia-both for and against him. In his third year, Jakob started the Deutscher Frieden, or “German Peace.” Due to skirmishing in the streets from a dramatic landslide loss between two local soccer teams, which turned into rioting. Once Jakob received word, he had the whole thing worked out.
As he reclined in a cozy winged chair, he sipped on a smooth and warm white wine and listened. The fire flowed and licked around several logs. A small knot popped and hissed. Hitler dwelled in the darkness, pacing, squatting to rest, pacing again, trying to reach through. His eyes were on a pinhole of light. Jakob controlled the hole. Consciously, Jakob looked inward at Hitler. He reached down and allowed a firm hand to grab his own. It was time.
Well, I’m pleased to know that you’ve changed your mind, Adolf said.
“I really need to talk to you.”
What’s there to say? You know what I’m all about. You tell me.
“I know that you want the Deutscher Frieden. I know it’s your idea of clearing your image-”
-Wrong. I’m going to change the world, Jack-o.
“You already tried that, old man. How do you intend to change the world now?”
Through your position. If you could just do a few favors for me-
“That’s where you’re wrong. I refuse to give into you, Adolf, after what I know you’re cable of doing.”
So you don’t believe me. You don’t think I’ve been redeemed. You didn’t believe me when I explained myself. Hell, you might as well not believe the fact that I’m talking to you right now.
“I can’t accept any mission, any favors; I’m not going to do anything for you.”
At least let me explain.
“Alright, explain.” Jakob’s eyes were on the fire.
“The Deutscher Frieden. I want all of Germany to be peaceful. Not just some soccer teams. Spread the peace. It’s all I ask.”
“Spread the peace.”
“Exactly! Imagine…all of Germany is in peace. No offense, no defense against the Russians, no regard for old regrets like me. Just the future: a country of peace.”
“You know I can’t let down the missile defense against the Russians.”
“Would they have a reason to bomb you when your own bombs are stored away?”
Jakob thought about it, shaking his head. “Never would anyone allow a country to become so defenseless.”
“Do you think that countries will automatically open fire simply because ours is defenseless? Do you think that they’ll invade us like the Golden Horde?”
“Who the fuck knows? There could be another Hitler out there.”
“The day there’s someone whose ambition equals my own I’ll let you know, young man.”

Still fuming, but calming down a little, Jakob poured himself another glass. Behind him came a knock at the door. An agent stepped in and crossed to the chair.
“Deutscher Frieden committee chairman here to see you, sir.”
“Show him in.”
Jakob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, thinking about what Adolf had said. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made.

At first, it seemed impossible to get the German defense down. However, with Adolf’s help, Jakob spread the word of peace. The Christians saw their Chancellor as a second Messiah, the Jews as the first. Nationwide acceptance to the new approach encouraged Germany to export one third of their weaponry to both the United States and to Russia. The other two thirds were detonated deep under the Pacific Ocean. Both East and West Germany coexisted and passed the peace movement to Switzerland, Austria and Poland. Megatons in nuclear warheads were destroyed in deep space; to such an extent that countries lost count. Guns over 45 caliber or with automatic fire were melted and the metal used for major structures made by the government. Possession of them was illegal. Chancellor Jakob Schneider looked on as the Deutscher Frieden blossomed all over Europe. After several months, 18 countries were officially completely disarmed. Eventually, the majority of the small countries around the world either voluntarily joined the force or was persuaded by governmental coup d'état. The Superpowers hung on another year and declared permanent disarmament. The Frieden party was dominant in Europe, deciding each action. Most events were humanitarian. A few countries refused to resign their weapons, and riots resulted. Liberals, conservatives, teens and adults marched the streets with signs, yelling at the national capitols day and night.
“But isn’t that a step towards violence?” Jakob asked the still, black room.
It’s a step towards peace.
“They’re threatening to overthrow those government!”
What else can you do with those war hawks? For peace to reign, war must be destroyed.
“It’s murder all the same.”
Think of it in the long run.
In time, those governments were also dissolved. The media, the unified government of the world, the major divisions of all societies were gradually converted to a peaceful state. A government was appointed for the entire world, each country represented. Major diplomats met in Perth, Australia, to write the Constitution of the World Union.
And it was fair.
Chancellor Jakob Schneider was elected Emperor of the World Union, for he had started it all.

The golden film on top of the wine rolled lazily within the goblet. Jakob leaned forward to inhale the sweet perfume of the Liebfraumilch. Before him, a fire cracked, hissed and popped. Things had changed inside. Hitler was proud. He no longer spoke, because there was no need. He could execute his thoughts directly through Jakob. On the night of July 24th, 2020, around 9:30, Jakob became tired and spilled his wine. Hitler was there, flowing like water into every crevice, every corner of Jakob’s psyche. Dark hatred slashed through 90 years and tore Jakob in two. When he awoke three days later, in the infirmary, he was no longer Jakob Schneider. He was Adolf Hitler.

Posters’ corners flapped in the cold Hamburg wind. Some were sprayed over, others partially torn, but most displayed a single, solid black peace sign. Along the lengths of buildings throughout thousands of countries there were the peace signs. Engraved in stone on governmental buildings, carved into tree trunks, spray painted on cars, doors to buildings, entire walls and bridge supports, scrawled sloppily in chalk over sidewalks, there were the peace signs. Against his advisers, Jakob took a lot of time off from office to roam the city streets. Not much had changed in a century. There was the advancement of technology and scientific research, but the streets felt the same. The potential for human unity was everywhere. Adolf took flights to various major cities across the world and strode those streets as well. There were endless streets, endless people. Each one was a blessing.
This time it would be different. He personally saw to it that violence for no reason was crushed. The magic of the world was that the party had succeeded in uniting everyone. There had been problems, some reluctant countries, but they were dissolved with their own weaponry, then the weapons themselves were destroyed. Iraq’s population was decimated.
But it was good, now.
Hitler stepped to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk, smearing a sign and blinking ahead. A hand resting in one pocket slowly firmed as it fingered a pencil and snapped it. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees. He glared down at the peace sign and trembled.
“Ach du Scheiße…” [“Oh, shit.”] He took the hand from his pocket, unconsciously flicking away the two pencil pieces and slowly swiped one hand down over the peace sign.
“Ach du liebe Scheiße…” [“Oh, holy shit.”]
Mechanically standing again, he continued a stiff walk along the street. His eyes darted from the walls to the ground. A ride pulled up, discreet yet bulletproof. Adolf swung a leg in, sat and slammed the door shut. The driver jumped and peered over at him.
“Is something the matter, sir?”
“Die Welt. Die ganze Welt.” [“The world. The whole world.”]
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Los!” [“Go!”]
The driver interpreted the hand gesture and floored it.

Confusion followed the new Emperor wherever he set foot. Advisors no longer tried to penetrate his shield. Psychologists stormed from his office, bidding feverish and final “Good-day”s to the secretary. The Emperor had changed.

Adolf sat alone on the gigantic bed in his suite, looking at his picture and smiling. Those times had been harsh. Harsh for the Jews, harsh for the Nazis, harsh for the Amis. They were also the days that changed history forever. That was the last war the world had seen, the last major one. However, nothing was learned. Nothing was learned because the Amis had won. He replaced his photo and sipped on Jakob’s nightly brandy, thinking. The main reason for war in the first place was lost when the war ended. His purpose was lost. His kind was lost. His people.
Thank God I had committed suicide when I did. Thank God, he thought, watching the ceiling.
It seemed for centuries that he had repented his life to go to Heaven, all ending in the mixed blessing of being re-assigned to Earth. Of all the people to become! Yes, it was a blessing. It was a blessing to land in a powerful man, to become the source of power once again. It was worth repenting under that God. Now it was time to get back to work.
He sipped on the brandy again.
Now that he had the power, he could fulfill his dreams. He could fulfill Germany’s dreams.

For a party to lie dormant, it must appear dead for a while. Its eyes will be closed, its volition nullified. It will rest. It will ferment, strengthen and deepen its cause. The longer it is dormant, the stronger it will be when it awakens. During dormancy, the party members themselves won’t recognize that the party is still alive. When it arises from its slumber, depending on how long it will have rested, the party will make a full comeback. The Nazi party never existed in the Neo-nazi party. It existed as the Nazi party alone.
The party that opened its eyes was no Neo-nazi party.
Hitler didn’t attempt to restrict the members. He ignored them during the day while urging them at night; he secretly funded and armed them. The party saw a gradual growth in power. It was terribly weak at first, wobbly in the knees as it stood and stretched. It sunk its roots in the German Fatherland. Small processions trumpeted, danced and drummed their way through the streets. Politicians fashioning themselves after historic Nazi propagandists and equated the Nazi party with the World Union. After the Fourth Reich spread its wings, it took flight.

Year: 2035
Emperor Jakob Schneider laid a hand on the podium, watching the crowd file in.
A giant swastika stretched across the golden backdrop, flanked on both sides by red seas of Nazi flags. Each country’s ambassador wore the Green uniform with a band on the left arm. Not a word was spoken as they took their seats. Jakob looked on as the hall slowly filled. The hand not on the podium flipped through some papers and drew one.
“Welcome, my friends,” he said as the last were seated. “I have come to you today to speak of magic, to speak of God, to speak of the future.
“There has been a rapid growth of the Nazi party. Many of you have seen guns for the first time in fifteen years. Now is not the time to worry about what they will do to you. Now you must consider what they can do for you. Here arises the beginning of a magnificent Empire, guarded against inhumanity. Now is the time when I ask each of you to look into yourselves. I looked into myself and found Hitler. Whom do you see?
“I want to take some time to describe my best friend. He is sharp in the eyes. they are large and round, fierce and sensitive to the dark. He will see through the dark. His body is small but perfect. His wings fold behind him, covering soft down. Powerful talons grasp a pine branch, flexing and scratching small gouges. He cocks his feathery head and spins it about to look at you. He was worshipped by many nations and now by all. He is the eagle.
“My friend spins his head away and slashes his eyesight through the world about him. He takes his wings and slowly stretched them at his sides. Then he raises them and jumps from the branch. He soars upward through the trees and above them, higher and higher until he reaches the sun.”
Jakob was no longer reading from the paper, but looking above the audience. He recomposed himself and became grave.
“I suggest to my world that you accept this defense against evil. It may be the only way that we’ll ever have. I don’t want a single person on Earth, three generations from now, to know how to operate weaponry, or to know that any of our ancestors ever did, but our survival lies in the Nazi party. If we are ever to achieve a utopian state, we will have to defend ourselves and crush our enemies.”
All around him, as a gigantic ocean, applause rose in a roar. Many threw their arms out stiffly, screaming. Eventually, the entire audience saluted their Emperor. The body of people became lined with rigidly protruding arms. Jakob’s voice became husky, trembling and hysterical.
“Sieg..”
“Heil!” The audience responded in unison.
“Sieg-”
“Heil!”
“Sieg-”
“Heil!”
A spirit of love, peace and hope filled the hall until it seemed like a thick cloud of intoxicating gas, choking nerves and reason. Hitler began to weep.

Jakob brought his hands behind his head while stretching out on his soft bed. A ceiling fan spun slowly over him in the muggy Vietnamese afternoon. A cup of Brandy slowly dissolved two ice cubes. Lost in thought, the Emperor’s eyes searched the ceiling for answers. When none came, he closed them.
The Fourth Reich was a blind success. Billions of people were party members. The few countries that put up a fight were destroyed, but their induction only strengthened the World Union. Jakob could not see anymore. What little there was to see he simply felt. A vast Empire stretched out before him like the wings of an eagle, masses of people striving only to further unite the world. Yes, it was a blind success. Still, he was afraid that the World Union might crumble. With their absence of weapons, if one country were to become belligerent, they would either be powerless or the most powerful. The world had known this but kept silent about it. Jakob was startled out of a daze by a phone ring.
“My Kaiser, there is a problem,” an agent said over the secret line.
“I’ll be right there,” Jakob responded and dressed quickly. Several men crowded around in the lobby. Upon seeing Jakob, the four of them shot out their hands.
“Sieg heil,” they barked. Jakob returned the salute.
“He’s in there,” one of them said, pointing at the door.
“Who is he?”
“We don’t know yet, my Kaiser. We found him trespassing. In the storage.”
He entered the small room and saw a man sitting alone in the center, facing away from the door. His wrists and ankles were tied to the chair legs. Immediately, Jakob turned back to the doorway and angrily but silently signaled a man over.
“Why is he tied up?” he hissed.
“He could have been a potential threat, my Kaiser.”
“Untie him.” He stood by to watch while the agent knelt at the man’s sides. “Leave us,” Jakob said. When the door was safely closed, he remained behind the chair.
“Who are you?”
“Horst Meier, Press reporter.”
“How did you get yourself into this mess? What were you doing?”
“Snooping around. I was-”
“-Doing your job?” He made his way slowly around the chair to look at Meier.
“Doing my job.”
“You certainly look familiar.”
“I’m the reporter back on the cruise ship, my Kaiser. I asked you who your other side was after your statement that you were schizophrenic.”
“You were doing your job then, I suppose?”
“Yes, my Kaiser. I do what I am told.”
“What were you told to do today?”
“I received instructions to investigate the matter of the huge underground storage here under the cities of Saigon, Hòn Nga, Chu Yan Kao, and Bi Doup. I was told to discover what is stored here.”
“And did you?”
The reporter raised his eyes, slowly. “Yes, my Kaiser, I did.”
Jakob straightened himself and calmly studied a white wall. “You found out what was stored in the underground storage,” he said to himself, thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Meier waited in silence and watched his doom. The Emperor paced slowly in front of the chair, smearing his mouth and chin with one hand.
“You were instructed to reveal to the press your findings, reporter?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Which newspaper?”
“The Süddeutsche Zeitung.”
“Germany,” Jakob said, reeling back in surprise.
“And a diligent addition to the World Union,” the reporter said, smirking. Hitler snapped to the young man and took him up in his fists. Meier kept his cool, silently holding his Emperor’s eyes. Slowly, he was released.
“You’re going to cause me a lot of trouble, you know that?”
“Yes, my Kaiser.” Jakob resumed his pacing while Meier followed him with his eyes. After an eternity, the Emperor spoke.
“Do you agree with the Süddeutsche Zeitung’s opposition of me?”
“At first, my Kaiser, I did disagree with my boss, which is why he has sent me on my mission. Now, he has successfully proven his point. We, America and Italy have rebel presses.”
“Your boss a stubborn man.”
“But strong, my Kaiser, and diligent.”
“How much does he pay you?”
“Sir?”
“Come on, how happy are you with your job?” he growled in frustration.
“I’m doing just fine. Yourself?”
“Do you want to die?”
“No, my Kaiser.”
“Then follow my rules, do what I want you to do, and believe in me.”
“I’m sorry, my Kaiser, but I just can’t do that.”
“Do you have a family?”
“Yes, five children, a beautiful wife.”
“Would they be happy if the man of the house returned one day with a few extra thousand dollars in his pockets?”
“No, not a few thousand.”
Jakob held the eyes of the reporter, twitching.
“A few million dollars?”
“Three million dollars would please them.”
“But would it please you?”
“Oh, yes, it would please me as well.”
Jakob had been leaning into him and drew back, breathing again.
“So, there it is.” He raised his voice to call through the door. “Guards!” After they entered, he gave one last look at the reporter before meeting the men at the entrance of the room. “I want you to give this man a check for three million dollars.” Continuing without waiting for a reaction, he stepped outside with them. “I want you also to escort him to his hotel, the airport, a ship, anywhere he needs to go, and be nice about it. Be fucking nice.”

Jakob didn’t sleep that night. He was too busy thinking, worrying, imagining and remembering. Gray streets of Berlin filled with Jews, all trudging slowly in the muddy snow. Store windows broken, doors marked with yellow chalk. Glorious years. Himmler took care of the Americans for a little while, but eventually they came. They would always come. He was startled by the phone again.
“My Kaiser, we must see you.”
“In a minute,” he said into the receiver. His face was white and weak.
Downstairs, several copies of the Süddeutsche Zeitung were opened, each with as many as five readers crowded around at a time. Nervous murmuring filled the lobby.
Hitler snatched a paper and glared down at it.

EMPEROR PROTECTS HIDDEN WEAPON STORAGE UNDER SAIGON, HÒN NGA, CHU YAN KAO, BI DOUP.

He hurtled it to the ground and stormed off, half running. Four agents followed.

“Marie, just shut up. No, don’t cry, you know how I hate it when you cry.”
“Just tell me what’s going on!”
“The article I published yesterday…the Kaiser bribed me with three million not to publish it. I accepted the money and double-crossed him.”
“Oh, shit, honey-”
“It is time that someone stroke out against him. If I am caught all the better. I’ll go out shooting. We can’t live on as a people like this. The money is hidden in an account.”
“All three million?”
“Should be. Here’s our check. He said to cash it at bank # 482, look for a clerk with sunglasses.” Marie sunk into a chair, holding her face and cried.
“You’re going to die.”
“Oh, come on, there’s not much of a chance that they’ll catch me. I can blend in to any crowd.
“They’re probably on their way.”
“Then I’ll be seeing you.” Meier reached down and held her chin, pulling her face up.
“I love you, Horst,” she said.
“I love you too, Marie.” With a deep hug he left, a suitcase in one hand and baggage in the other. He stepped out into a gorgeous day and squinted in the sun. A gentle wind form the Alps soared across the land. He had called a taxi and climbed in, casting a glance in both directions. The streets were bare.
“Hi, thanks for coming all the way out here so early.”
“No problem. Are you in an emergency?”
“Yeah, actually, I am.” He said, trying to hide to hide nervousness. “Look, I’m in a hurry, so can you step on it?”
“Hell, yeah! Where to?”
“The airport.”
Meier was in the backseat and propped his arm up along the headrest to keep an eye out. Through many streets there was a lot of traffic, so with constantly swapping tailgaters he didn’t see any followers. In the countryside, however, he noticed one car following very distantly, almost out of sight. They had passed a dozen exits and the car continued. With each turn-off the car continued, and Meier’s heart sunk a little more. He expected them to come after him, but not so soon.
“Hey, can you drop me off at the next exit?”
“But what about-”
“Don’t worry, I’ll call another cab. I just remembered something that I need to take care of near here.”
Their taxi turned off the Autobahn to a rest stop, and he paid the money, his eyes on the way they had come. The taxi pulled out of the parking lot just as the black car followed into the exit ramp.
“Shit,” he grunted and went to the nearest building. Options raced through his head. He couldn’t call the cops anymore, and calling home wouldn’t help. Instead, he went around to a shaded corner and knelt to the dirty tiles, opening his bag. He drew out a Glock 9 mm and loaded in nine rounds, glancing up as the car pulled into a stall. Three men stood from the car, drawing guns of their own. The taxi was merging again with the Autobahn, never even pausing on its way.
“Horst Meier? Are you here?” A soft voice called. He straightened against the brick wall, raising the pistol.
“We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to discuss some issues with you..”
Meier raised one hand slowly and muffled the gun while cocking it. The click was barely audible.
“…The Kaiser is concerned with your behavior. He would just like to discuss some issues he has with you…” The men were searching around the building and repeating the same series of statements, calling, cajoling. One man drew near. Meier kept track of the grinding footsteps, and had a mental image of his location. After an eternity the footsteps were directly around the corner.
“We’re not going to hurt you…” The man whirled around the corner behind a gun and Meier blasted at his face. The shot echoed in the building. Immediately the others swung in through the entrance. Meier shot two more while the third got him from behind, putting a shot in the leg.

-continuted