A World in Flames - an international DDA 1.1 1936 AAR

[Commander-DK]

A World in Flames

An International DDA 1.1 1936 AAR

AAR INDEX:

Prologue
Chapter 1: Germany's Gambit
Episode I - Operation Winter Exercise
Episode II - An unpleasant surprise
Episode III - Politics
Episode IV - Transfer
Episode V - Sins
Episode VI - The die is cast
Episode VII - Remilitarization
Episode VIII - Guesswork
Episode IX - Options
Episode X - 'Grandfather England'
Episode XI - Counter-orders
Episode XII - Watch in the woods
Episode XIII - The Führer speaks to the world
Episode XIV - Eavesdropping
Episode XV - Sinister conversations
Episode XVI - The business of intelligence
Episode XVII - The pass
Episode XVIII - Mobilisation
Episode XIX - Shuffling the pieces of the board
Episode XX - Machinations
Chapter 2: The League of Nations
Episode I - The Council convenes
Episode II - The debate begins
Episode III - Heir to the throne
Episode IV - International Law
Episode V - The German offer
Episode VI - Waiting
Episode VII - The trap
Episode VIII - The Franco-Soviet pact

[Commander-DK]

Introduction notes

This is my first attempt at writing an AAR. Although I will be playing as Germany, the story is intended to be “international” featuring main characters from most of the major and also a few minor nations. It will be text heavy in a mix of 3rd person narrative and history book style. I intend to illustrate it as much as possible and include screenshots once the tactical and strategic situation becomes interesting.

I have run a few test games but so far never played Doomsday beyond the summer of 1940 and the fall of Yugoslavia. This will be my first game experimenting with Surface Action Groups (look out Royal Navy!), rockets (look out London!) and nuclear technologies, so I am very exited about how it will all turn out.

For roleplaying purposes I will not play as efficiently as possible but strive to use a variety of units, brigades, vessels and aircraft models. I am not necessarily playing to win but to see where the story goes. To help me in this endeavour, I have included a number of new historical and fictional events to take the game in interesting new directions. How this will work out I guess we’ll see.

Game notes

Doomsday Armageddon, patch 1.1
• No IC takeover
• Tech team takeover

Difficulty Settings: Normal / Aggressive
• Allies get +40 % IC, +20 % resources
• Comintern get +30 % IC, +20 % resources
• Neutrals get +20 % IC, +10 % resources

Mods and modifications:
• DAIM mod
• Hallsten’s Retire Old Guards event for Germany
• Design und Grafik Mod
• Various leader portraits, flags and shields from SMEP Mod
• Infantry sprites by Halibutt
• Naval, air force, armour and mech sprites by BeBro
• Paratroopers increase speed from Improved paratroopers model and onwards
• Paratroopers, mountaineers, marines and cavalry can attach more brigade types
• Anti-tank brigades increase SA and HA and suffer no speed penalty from improved model and onwards
• Light armour brigade is a 1941 tech
• Change of terrain type in different provinces
• Added various events of my own making or modded existing ones

Acknowledgements

Finally, before I begin I would like to acknowledge the inspiration I have had from reading the following great AARs at the forum:

Kanitatlan – “A German Mechanised Strategy”
Tachikaze – “Last Stand of the Eagle”
Seigneur_Vauban – “In the Shadows of Destruction”
UKMJ – “World at War”
The Yogi – “Where the Iron Crosses Grow”, “Empire of Fu Manchu” and “The III Reich in World War III”
And especially “For King and Country” by Draco Rexus, which has been both a joy and an inspiration to read.

And I would also like to acknowledge the help I have gotten, when I have posted questions about strategies, production, modding units and events and a million other things at the HoI2 and Doomsday forums. There are many people to thank, but in particular a warm thanks goes out to:

blue emu
PNEawf
Shadow_Kotten
DirtyCommiePuke
Mork
Zeekater
Thisletooth
BeBro
john heidle
Gormadoc
Daelyn75
Wobbler
von_Ysselstein

OK! Now that’s all out of the way, let’s get started on this AAR!

[Commander-DK]

Prologue

Following the Nazis’ rise to power in March 1933, Germany had undergone drastic changes. Public construction projects, expansion of the automobile industry and development of the Autobahn system had reduced unemployment and raised living standards throughout the Reich. Nazi ideology and propaganda was gradually spreading to all levels of society through youth movements such as the Hitlerjugend and the ever more dominant presence of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party (NSDAP or Nazi party).

Having secured the loyalty or at least obedience of the industrialists and the officer corps of the Army by purging the socialist tendencies of Ernst Röhm and the 700,000-man strong SA in the Night of the Long Knives in 1934, Hitler continued by reintroducing conscription in March 1935 as yet another step towards completely renouncing the Treaty of Versailles. The expanding armed forces (Wehrmacht) were divided into an army (Heer), navy (Kriegsmarine) and an air force (Luftwaffe).

Without consulting their French allies, the British brokered the so-called Anglo-German Naval Agreement on June 18 1935, allowing Germany to construct a new navy including both submarines and battleships of up to 35,000 tons. The agreement also dictated that the Royal Navy withdraw from the Baltic Sea, leaving the German Kriegsmarine as the dominant power in these waters and securing the free flow of Swedish iron ore to the German rearmament industry.

Stunned by the unilateral actions of their British allies, the French desperately turned to the League of Nations and to the Soviet Union to protect the delicate balance of power on the European mainland. A new Soviet-French mutual assistance pact was an attempt by the French Prime Minister Pierre Laval to signal to the German government that any further aggression could result in a war on two fronts. However, the vagueness of the treaty made it a hollow diplomatic threat – but one that Hitler skilfully used to justify Germany’s continued expansion of her armed forces for defensive purposes.

In October 1935 Italy invaded Abyssinia in Africa in a war of conquest. The League of Nations was powerless to act without armed forces of its own and attempts by Britain and France to put an end to the fighting by secretly proposing to split Ethiopia and give part of it to Italy resulted in a major political scandal. As the year 1935 draws to an end, Germany stands proud in the face of the victors of World War I and is ready to take the next step towards complete renunciation of the Treaty of Versailles.

[Commander-DK]

Chapter 1: Germany’s Gambit

Episode I – Operation Winter Exercise


January 6th, 1936
Büllowstrasse 4, Berlin
Office of Ludwig Beck, Chief of the General Staff

‘This is madness’, Werner Freiherr von Fritsch said.

‘I agree, but there is very little that we can do at the moment’, the chief of the general staff, Ludwig Beck, sighed. He was sitting behind his desk while von Fritsch paced up and down the floor of his office in frustration. ‘The Führer has ordered me to proceed with the planning of Operation Winter Exercise, despite my cautioning him that we do not have the strength to resist, if the British and French intervene. And they will intervene’.

Von Fritsch stopped his pacing for a moment and looked at his colleague and friend. ‘Has he named anyone yet?’

‘Well, as Oberbefehlshaber des Heeres it is your choice of course, but I have been informed that the Führer deems generalleutnant von Reichenau as just the right man for the job’.

‘von Reichenau’, von Fritsch snorted, ‘that slimy Nazi worm!’.

‘Easy now’, Beck cautioned, then realised that if the Gestapo actually had some way of listening in on conversations in his office they would probably have arrested him by now.

‘Do we have a set date?’ von Fritsch asked.

‘Yes. The morning of the 14th. I will be by your office the day after tomorrow to start going over the operational planning in details’.

Von Fritsch gave Beck a pained look. ‘We are not ready’.

‘I know’, Beck answered. ‘Which is why – when this thing falls apart – we will need to act swiftly if we are to save Germany’.

Von Fritsch looked at him with a mix of surprise and suspicion. ‘Ludwig… what do you mean exactly?’

‘Let me show you’.

Oberbefehlshaber des Heeres Werner Freiherr von Fritsch

Chief of the general staff, Ludwig Beck

[rcduggan]

good luck!

[Commander-DK]

good luck!

Thank you. It is a good feeling to finally be under way. Hopefully I will be able to post another update tonight.

:-) Jesper

[Sir Humphrey]

Looks like a good start.

[Marchalk_Zjukov]

Looks good, you do not see a roleplaying AAR every day.

Good luck!

[Commander-DK]

Episode II – An unpleasant surprise

January 6th, 1936
Broadway Buildings 54, London
Military Intelligence Section Six


Sir Hugh Sinclair was looking out his office window at the traffic in the street, still covered in snow, when it knocked on the door. ‘Come in’, he said and took another sip of his tea. ‘Ah, Gideon, please come in’, he said when a young man popped his head in the door. Sir Hugh sat down in his comfortable leather armchair and placed his cup on a saucer. ‘What is it?’

‘Well Sir’, the young man said with an embarrassed look on his face ‘this came for you yesterday. I was so busy with the report on the Italian advance in Denakil… I… I forgot to give it to you’.

‘Really?’ Sir Hugh said dryly as Gideon handed him a folder marked TOP SECRET in bright red letters. He flipped it open and began reading the first page. ‘This came in yesterday?’ he asked with a frowning forehead.

‘Yes Sir, that’s correct. From the “Passport Control Officer” at our embassy in Berlin. We have been expecting a report on the new heavy cruiser KMS Graf Spee, which is supposed to launch for her first operational tour tomorrow at Wilhelmshafen. But this report from our agent in the Reich Ministry for Weapons, Munitions and Armaments also mentions that the Jerries have laid down the keel for five new warships. Two of them looks like they will be Scharnhorst-class battlecruisers, but the other three are something even… bigger’.

‘Hmm’, Sir Hugh grunted as he read on, then suddenly exclaimed: ‘Good Heavens! This can’t be right? An estimated displacement of more than 40,000 tonnes? 50,000 tonnes with a full load?’

‘I am afraid it is true sir’, Gideon replied. ‘We don’t yet have the projections for what type of armaments a ship of that size will be able to carry, but we have to assume they will be a match for our own. The Queen Elizabeth, the Revenge and even the Nelson class are all approximately 28,000 to 38,000 tonnes. The only thing we have ever even contemplated building in that scale was the N3-class, the designs for which were scrapped in 1921 with the Washington Naval Treaty’.

‘This is a direct violation of last summer’s naval agreement’, Sir Hugh said with bitterness in his voice. He had been one of the few to speak against the treaty, his opinion ignored by a political establishment that saw the Bolsjevik Soviet Union as a far greater threat than Hitler’s goose tripping bullies. Idiots.

‘Yes sir. It is rather a bold move, if I may say so. We’re guessing…’

‘Guessing?’, Sir Hugh snapped as he looked up from the papers. ‘Young man, if you expect to remain in Six, I would advice less guessing and more knowing’.

‘Yes Sir’, Gideon replied, not knowing what else to say.

After an uncomfortably long pause, Lord Sinclair finally broke the silence. ‘Gideon, I am going to take this over to the Admiralty and see if I can convince Ernle to come with me over to Downing Street’.

‘Yes Sir’. The young Six agent was relieved that his director apparently was not angry.

‘Apparently, Anthony has been arguing with the Admiralty and the General Staff about the Italian business in Abyssinia, saying that we mustn’t “provoke” the other powers of Europe. I’ll be back later to talk to you about forgetting top secret security briefs. In the meantime, here’s the key to the archives. There are three crates of reports from India from last year that still need to be properly catalogued and filed. Get to it’.

‘Yes Sir’, Gideon sighed.

[Commander-DK]

Sir Humphrey: Thanks a lot. Glad you stopped by.

Marchalk_Zjukov: Well, I have been playing RPG's for 17 years now, so of course I had to find a way to include it in my favourite strategy game . Thanks for the encouragement!

I have included an index of all posts at the end of the first post in the AAR. Hopefully that way readers can quickly catch up with new episodes along the way.

:-) Jesper

[Uffz. Steiner]

This AAR takes a promising start. Very well written! I wish you good luck and fun for this.

[son of liberty]

Sounds interesting, good luck. Invading switzerland perhaps? Then an assassination of hitler?

[Ksim3000]

Well, I think I shall jump onboard for the ride. Looking forward to this.

[Veldmaarschalk]

Finally, you have started . Good luck with it !

[Commander-DK]

Episode III – Politics


January 6th, 1936
Paris

The rain was falling heavily as Max Addison crossed the Pont de la Concorde and turned right following the riverbank of the Seine. He had only been in Paris for a month and still had not gotten used enough to the city’s sudden showers to carry an umbrella with him.

He turned left at the Tuileries Gardens, its trees standing bare of leaves against the grey January sky. Crossing through the park he came to the Rue de Rivoli, the commercial street named after Napoleon’s early victory against Austria in 1797. Across it, the Rue de Castiglione stretched northwest to the Place Vendome and he walked briskly now as falling rain was threatening to soak right through his coat.

When he reached the square, Max turned left again and ran across it to the front entrance of the Hotel Ritz. A doorman in a stylish uniform held the door for him and gave him a polite nod as Max hurried past him into the hotel lobby.

The reputation of the Ritz was nearly legendary among the socialites of the 1930ies Europe. Here, princes of finance and genuine aristocrats rubbed shoulders with movie stars, famous artists and the political elite. It was a place of extravagant parties and opulence coupled with trademark discretion and a warm, albeit expensive, hospitality that made the Ritz feel like the only real home abroad to an entire generation of expatriate Americans.

Of course, the crash of the Wall Street stock exchange and the following Great Depression had put an end to the favourable post-war exchange rates that in the 1920ies had permitted a host of aspiring writers and artists in Paris to live well on even a meagre allowance from their families back in the States. That was why Max Addison had only stayed his first night in Paris at the Ritz and now lived in a small one-room apartment above a paper and book store just off the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Champs.

He still liked to come here as often as possible, for two reasons; firstly because the bar at the Ritz was frequented by most reporters of the foreign press in Paris and secondly because the hotel received and held his mail for him. It was a tradition that had started almost a decade before and a service that lots of foreigners still made use of, when they were in the city on business.

To Max Addison it was equally important that it sent a signal to people he knew in the States that he was doing well on his own ‘over here’. He had arrived in France in early December 1935 as the new foreign correspondent in Europe for the New York Times.

Already he had done a number of articles on the Italian invasion of Ethiopia and the Hoare-Laval scandal that had resulted from the attempt by the foreign minister of the United Kingdom, Samuel Hoare, and French Prime Minister Pierre Laval to negotiate a settlement.

His editor at the Times, however, was a man named Walter Browning, who either did not understand the significance of or did not care about European affairs. Much to the annoyance of Addison, his articles had been reduced to small paragraphs in the “foreign news” section.

Addison walked into the bar situated next to the lounge and took off his coat. The walls had rich wood panelling and the air was heavy with cigarette smoke. He looked around and found Pierre sitting in a comfortable leather armchair at their usual table, sipping what could only be a dry martini.

Addison himself was a Scotch man but to Pierre Coquard – one of Le Temp’s premiere reporters – nothing beat a well-made dry martini. Addison walked to the bar and ordered a Macallan before joining Pierre at the table.

‘Well hello. Nice of you to finally turn up’, Pierre said with a wry smile as Addison sat down.

‘It’s this lousy weather. I damn near drowned getting here’, Max replied as he handed his coat to a waiter and got his drink. ‘So, what’s new in the world?’ he asked and nodded at Pierre’s newspaper.

‘Not much. Our new Prime Minister Sarraut is talking about the economy. He wants to institute a new labour programme to fight unemployment in the cities. Since the riots two years ago in the Place de la Concorde (1) the left wing is actually resembling some sort of united front with the communist PCF, the socialist workers of the SFIO and the Radical-Socialist Party working together now. If Sarraut, who is a moderate centre-left politician, cannot control them by improving conditions for the poorest workers, the intellectual anti-fascists of the CVIA might join the working class in a bid for power of a more...revolutionary nature. Sarraut might even have to include the PCF in the government after the next election to keep them happy. You can imagine what the employers’ trade union thinks about that’.

‘Yeah’, Addison nodded. ‘So Sarraut needs to demonstrate that he can improve working conditions and stabilise the economy without giving France away to the communists or he might loose his new office again quickly?’

‘Exactly. He needs a demonstration of strength’, Pierre nodded then sighed as he turned to the sports pages. ‘Another butchers’ match. Remi Tissot knocked out Joel Monteil in the third round. They think he is ready for the Olympics next summer’.

‘Middle-weight, right? Is he any good?’ Addison asked.

‘Possibly’, Pierre answered. ‘I wouldn’t know really’. Unlike Addison, who was a boxing fan, Pierre Coquard’s singular fascination in sports was horse racing. Every week during the season he would go to the tracks at the Hippodrome in the Paris suburb of Maisons-Laffitte, and in the off-season from November until March he was thoroughly miserable.

The two reporters sat in the Ritz Bar until late in the evening, talking about world events, sports, women, the night life in Paris and whatever else men talk of when they are young and the world is open to them. Little did either of them know that events would soon be set in motion that would dominate the future of the entire world for years to come.

(1) The 6 February 1934 Crisis

French Prime Minister Albert Sarraut

[Commander-DK]

I would like to thank all readAARs and lurkAARs who have stopped by my AAR. I hope you have enjoyed it so far. Please feel free to comment on the story, the layout, font size - whatever - although I understand that I will probably need to post at least ten times more before you get a real sense of where this is going

Feedback to the recent comments:

Uffz. Steiner: Thank you very much. I hope you will continue to stop by.

son of liberty: Well, I don't want to give too much away too early, but there is definetly a shortage of loyalty to the Führer in some parts of the army high command

ksim3000: Glad to have you onboard!

Veldmaarschalk: Well, I knew I could not keep you waiting forever Seriously though, I am glad to have gotten this thing under way. When Armageddon 1.1 came out, I knew it was now or never.

Thanks for the encouragement everyone!

I am going on a short trip to France to do some climbing tomorrow, but I will be back on Monday the 16th and will of course post an update as soon as possible thereafter.

Have a nice summer! (in Denmark we are drowning in rain... )

:-) Jesper

[Commander-DK]

Episode IV – Transfer

January 9th, 1936
Öbisfelde Bahnhof, Wolfsburg, Germany

It was already getting dark when the train pulled into the railroad station at Öbisfelde, some 15 kilometres east of Wolfsburg. The stop was only long enough for some papers to be checked and the driver to make a visit to the men’s room at the station. Strangely enough the platform was almost devoid of passengers; as if someone had made en effort to make the train pass through with as little notice as possible. But then again, this particular train was not intended for ordinary passengers.

Most of the men were chatting, playing cards, reading letters from home or trying to catch up on some sleep. The last few days had been hard on all of them. Unterfeldwebel Ulrich Wetzelberge was looking out the window at the snow falling quietly in the cool evening air. It made him think of childhood winters in Bavaria, skiing with his father and his two older brothers. He smiled to himself, as he remembered how his brothers Karl and Heinrich had always been competing with one another, racing down the mountain side, sometimes hitting a tree or almost running off a cliff. But that was a long time ago.

Heinrich had joined the army in 1928, four years before Ulrich, as a cadet and was now an instructor teaching at the Mountain Warfare School in Bad Reichenhall. Karl had joined the clergy and become a Catholic priest in a small parish. He had seen neither one of them in over a year – his Christmas leave had been cancelled when the 2. Panzer-Division had been put on alert in the middle of December.

But it was not until three days ago that something had actually happened. Their company commander, Hauptmann Faerber, had ordered them to prepare the 1st company for an immediate transfer – destination unknown. Rumour in the battalion was that they were heading south for some sort of joint exercise with other units of the Heer.

This morning they had held a parade on the grounds at their barracks in Berlin, the entire 2. Regiment had been lined up and their division commander, Generalmajor Heinz Guderian, and the commander of the entire I. Panzer Armee, Generalleutnant Paul Hausser, had been there to inspect them.

2. Regiment of the 2. Panzer-Division on parade

Afterwards the company had proceeded to the nearby railway station and the tanks had been loaded on open railway wagons, secured and covered with heavy-duty tarpaulin. The men of 1st Company had been pleased to see that real passenger cars and not just box wagons had been provided for their use. The officers had their own wagon, while Ulrich and the other Unteroffiziere had to ride with the men in the back. Not that he minded though. The camaraderie felt between these men was strong – a natural consequence of hard training and the knowledge that they belonged to one of the Reich’s most prestigious formations, the Panzerwaffe.

He looked around at the men and smiled. Across from him sat Conrad, the driver of his LKA – Landswerk Krupp A – a light tank with twin MG13 Dreyse machine guns, reading a copy of the Völkischer Beobachter. He and Conrad had been a team since Panzertruppenschule in Münster three years ago, where they immediately became good friends. Several times he had accompagnied Conrad on weekend leave to visits to his family in Küstrin and he had come to regard them as his own family.

Sitting around him cramped together in the compardment were the other men of his platoon. There was their platoon leader, Oberfeldwebel Heinz Baum, a stern disciplinarian of Prussian descent. His driver, Bruno, was busy as usual braggin about his many women to the rookie of the platoon – 17 year old Johann.

Johann’s tank commander was Willi Beck, a carefree young man who could usually be found at the centre of any lively gathering singing and laughing loudly. At the moment, though, he was reading an edition of Faust quietly by the window.

Behind him, the fourth tank commander of the platoon, Sepp Bergmann, was playing cards with some men from 1st platoon. Sepp never missed an opportunity to supplement his meager army wage with some gambling profits.

His driver, Günther, was watching them, rubbing his fingers in an oily rag. Günther was notoriously unkempt for a soldier in the Wehrmacht, always featuring a soiled, oil stained uniform, but Sepp did not care about his behaviour because Günther was nothing less than a mechanical genius – some would say the best in the entire division. Heinz disapproved greatly and just barely tolerated the pair.

The train’s signal whistle blew and with a slow, hissing groan the engines started moving the train once more out of the railway station. Ulrich leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to try and get some sleep. Wherever they were going, he felt he was going to need it.

[Commander-DK]

Well, I am back from a nice holiday, climbing the mountains of Northern Italy. If you ever get the opportunity to visit the region Trentino just north of the Garda Lake - do so! It is beautiful and the climate is nice and the food excellent.

I was very happy see that so many have visited the AAR, while I have been away. Please feel free to comment on the story or my style of writing. I hope you can keep up with the many new characters I keep introducing. A lot more are coming and I am considering doing some sort of "main character index", but I am afraid it will remove some of the suspence if I divide characters in important ones and less important ones from the beginning.

Thanks to readAARs and lurkAARs!

Next update will hopefully be sometime this weekend.

:-) Jesper

[Commander-DK]

Lots of people read this AAR it seems, but for the last couple of posts responses have been almost non-existent. I would really appreaciate comments of any nature - just so that I know how you like the story so far. I am guessing the story has fans - so please, let's hear from you!

This next episode is a little bit... different. I hope it will stir some of you readAARs and lurkAARs into commenting.

How it all fits into the grand scheme of things will be revealed later. I hope you enjoy it.

:-) Jesper

[Commander-DK]

Episode V – Sins

January 12th, 1936
Soho, London


She opened the door to her room, stepped inside and let him in with a smile. He followed through the door, which she closed after him. As if to stress their privacy she turned the key and locked it. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking around inquisitively. She moved to the window and lit a few candles before she pulled the drapes closed to shut out the noise and lights from the street.

She turned to look at him. He was handsome. Good. It wasn’t a requirement but it made her part a lot more enjoyable. He was still standing in the middle of the room, looking around at her room, her closet, her table with the mirror where she put on her makeup and the screen she used to change her outfit behind. Finally, he looked at her bed and then back at her and their eyes met.

Is he nervous? Or just shy? He wasn’t exactly young, perhaps in his early thirties, so she figured that he had been with a woman before. If not, she was prepared to teach him all he needed to know. She almost giggled.

‘Why don’t you pour us both a drink’, she said in a sultry voice as she walked past him and went behind the large screen in the back of the room. ‘I’ll be right back’. She started to undress and could hear him pour two tumblers of gin and then turn the radio on to some music programme. I wonder if he moans a lot?

She snickered as she took off her dress and petticoat and let her hair hang loose over her shoulders. She looked at herself in the large mirror behind the screen. She was wearing a sexy black bra that lifted her beautiful bosom and a pair of matching panties and a girdle with a pair of expensive stockings. Despite her years her stomach was flat and her thighs slim and fit. She nodded with satisfaction to the mirror as she made the final adjustments to her undergarments before she stepped around the screen to face him.

He had their drinks in his hands and handed her one as she stepped towards him. They touched glasses and drank a sip. ‘Cheers’. He had taken off his overcoat but nothing else. Let’s see if we can’t make you relax a bit love. She took his glass and put it on the table with her own. The radio was playing some loud jazz song more suited for a dance hall than her bedroom, she thought.

‘Just relax’. She stepped up close to him and put her arms around his neck. She could smell his aftershave mixed with the smell of cigarettes and the gin on his breath. Slowly she pulled her head closer to his and extended her lips to touch his in a passionate kiss. As she felt his arms finally closing around her and holding her tight, she moaned softly and kissed him again. At the same time she took another small step to press her breasts and lower body against his.

Then she felt the pain. A terrible, burning, excruciating pain in her back.


*************************************


The blade would have struck her in the heart, killing her instantly, if she had not taken that small extra step towards him. For part of a second, her look at him registered only the shock and pain. Then he had to shove his fingers down her throat to prevent her from screaming out loud.

He stabbed her again, but she was twitching and the blade only grazed her. Then blood gushed out and Smith knew that it would not be a tidy kill. It never was when you failed the first stroke.

She was twisting and turning now – far too much to kill her with a single stab. Smith could not hold her steady because his one hand was in her throat and in the other he held the stiletto. Without taking his fingers out of her mouth he grabbed her jaw with his thumb and pushed her back up against the wall. She was panicking now and tried to get free, so he smashed her head hard against the stone. It made a loud thud and Smith was thankful he had remembered to turn on the radio.

For a moment he hesitated. It would be better if she died on the bed – that had been his original intent – but he was certain he could not get her all the way to the bed without screaming. He tightened his grip on her jaw, pressed her head upwards against the wall, exposing her throat, and swung the stiletto in a sweeping arch above his head. It tore out most of her throat because the stiletto is a stabbing weapon unsuited for slashing and the throat was not Smith’s favourite location to strike.

He jumped back instantly to avoid the spurt of blood. Her eyes went hazy and then her knees gave in. Smith took a step forward to catch her before she hit the floor. Slowly he dragged her body across the floor and threw her on the bed. Methodically he tore off her panties and cut open her bra, exposing her breasts. The coroner would discover that she had not been raped but that did not worry Smith. He knew that many sexual assaults were not consummated. The police would chalk this one up to some lunatic madman.

He looked around the room and went to a small sink in the back, where he washed his face and hands and combed his hair. Smith then emptied the tumblers in the sink, washed them and using a small towel put them back in the bar without leaving any prints. He also wiped off the radio with a handkerchief but left the music playing.

He then put on his coat and a pair of gloves and discretely left the apartment.