The Hohenzollern Empire 5: Holy Phoenix - An Empire of Jerusalem Megacampaign in New World Order

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The End of History, Part 29

Frankfurt – January 23, 1943

Anne used to love school. She used to love learning. But lately everybody at this “school” had been lacking in both. It had begun four years ago, back when the Angeloi first began their takeover of the Reich. Loyalist resistance in Frankfurt had been quickly crushed when the Frankfurt Police Department, incensed by the “murder” of their conveniently pro-Angeloi chief, joined forces with the local military barracks to “root out socialist anarchists.” Then came the “purge of moral corruption.” She clearly remembered the first headline of the state-run Das Zeiten after Die Zeiten had been shut down: “SOCIALIST CORRUPTION AT ALL LEVELS OF SOCIETY, REPORT FINDS.” Then the purges of people began. The few surviving unions were shut down. Troops were sent in to suppress strikes. Tanks began patrolling the streets.

The reach of the Angeloi slowly crept into Anne’s life. Police officers in Angeloi uniforms, armed with submachine guns and .50-calibers mounted on motorcycles, monitored everybody on her block, randomly asking for identification. Anybody who didn’t have an ID was promptly bashed over the head with a baton and dragged away for “interrogation,” though they were never seen again. Occasionally, the police stormed a house and arrested everybody inside as a “socialist terrorist.” The entire Jacobsen family had “disappeared” after one such raid, but they were soon replaced with the intensely nationalistic Gottlieb family, and nobody dared talk about the Jacobsens after their neighbors brought up their name at the housewarming party and “disappeared” a week later. Then they started barging into Anne’s house and randomly searching everything, flipping through Anne’s notebooks and journals to look for “subversive thoughts and ideas.”

They didn’t stop there. At school, Frau Joanna and Herr Daniels suddenly didn’t show up for class in January. Granted, Anne wasn’t fond of Herr Daniels, who always picked on her and her circle of friends for some reason, but the woman they had replaced him with was even worse. Frau Anderson (not the usual Andersen) looked to be a blonde woman in her mid-thirties. She spoke with a soft Anglo-Saxon accent, which set off the first alarm bells. Anne was prepared to overlook this, though, as she told herself she wasn’t racist. She’d at least be more tolerable than Herr Daniels.

She wasn’t.

On her first day as Anne’s social studies teacher, she walked up to the chalkboard and scratched out two words: “AUGUSTINIAN CODE.”

“Under what circumstances should the imperial government be prepared to suspend the Augustinian Code?” she asked, turning back to the class.

“None,” said Anne, “The Augustinian Code, as outlined by Kaiser Friedrich Augustin IV in 1444, is supposed to be absolute and binding. Not even the Kaiser may suspend it.”

“Incorrect, Frau Frank,” said Anderson, looking at her class roster, “That is a very simple and unsophisticated view. For example, say someone kills your parents. A suspect is found and thrown in jail. A month later, a policeman conducts an improper search which turns up evidence that exonerates the criminal. Should the criminal go free?”

Anne shuddered in her seat. She couldn’t help but remember that day two years ago. Shots ringing out in her own home. Blood staining the curtains and floorboards. People screaming. Bodies falling. Evil men standing over her, taunting her weakness. Flames roaring and engulfing everything around her. Her fists clenched. She started sweating. Was this what Anderson wanted? If so, she was really cruel to be doing this.

“Yes,” she said, “But the police shouldn’t conduct an improper search to begin with—”

“Also incorrect,” said Anderson, “You know, given your grades, I expected better of you, Frau. The proper response is to throw the offender into jail as well. It would reflect badly on society to release a criminal, even one who had been wrongly imprisoned.”

“But doesn’t that just support my claim that the Augustinian Code is—”

“Other ways that the Augustinian Code may be superseded?” interrupted Anderson.

Norbert eagerly put his hand up. “Shouting fire in a theater?”

“Excellent, Herr Norbert,” said Anderson, smiling, “The Augustinian Code is not absolute, as the Augustinian Court has over the last century. Can you list more examples?”

Norbert put up his hand again, but he didn’t wait to be called on. “Endangering law enforcement officers or military personnel. National security. Libel. Slander. Lese-majesté. Leftist and anarchist propaganda. Fake news with the intent to misinform and subvert. Incitement to violence and revolution. Republicanism. Threats against the Kaiser. Threats against the Chancellor. Moral corruption of society. Obscenity.”

Anne felt sick. She couldn’t believe what she was listening to. Not even Herr Daniels would preach this madness.

She put her hand up again. “I don’t get it. I really don’t. At this rate, it sounds like the Augustinian Code is optional. We’re supposed to follow it entirely. And the examples that were brought up are very ambiguous, allowing anybody to interpret it however they choose.”

“That is a common misconception, brought on by decades of socialist corruption of our government institutions,” said Anderson, “The Augustinian Code was written in the 15th century. If we were supposed to follow it literally, we would have remained in the Dark Ages, constrained by its barbaric laws. It is logical that the Augustinian Code would be revised over time, as had been done notably in 1836.”

“The reason the Kaiser decreed the Augustinian Code was to prevent the Reich from falling into the chaos of a divided Europe like it was in medieval times by giving all Romans equal rights and protections. The Kaisers have always intended that the Augustinian Code be revised over time not to limit those rights, but to expand and protect them under new circumstances. The Kaiser’s role in the government is to make sure that the Augustinian Code is enforced properly, protecting all citizens.”

“Yes, yes,” Anderson replied, waving at her, “The old Kaisers did intend for the Augustinian Code to bring stability and order to the Imperium, but…”

Norbert smiled wider, knowing what she was about to say.

“They set out the Augustinian Code because general and absolute rights were much easier to write than a clear distinction between what is allowed and what is not. Take the protections of speech and religion. They’re supposed to protect us by preventing any religious or cultural group from being marginalized and persecuted. However, the first and foremost role of government is to secure stability and order for as many citizens as possible. If we don’t have stability or order, we don’t have a country. If the government wants to do something that makes us unhappy, that would be fine if they’re doing it to protect us. That’s why subversives like leftists and Muslims are locked up. They have no respect for our lives and want to destroy our civilization. If we lock them up, they lose their right to speak in public, but everybody else can live in peace, with their right to speak in public still intact. More people have their rights intact than taken away.”

Rita put up her hand. “Does that mean they can do anything they want,” she asked, “If they claim it’s to prevent chaos in the future?”

“Yeah,” added Anne, “This sounds like you’re saying that national security is more important than the Augustinian Code. How can you protect our rights by suspending them?”

Anderson shook her head in disappointment. “I thought we were getting somewhere,” she said, “In case you forgot, Friedrich the Great, Friedrich the Glorious, and Saint Wilhelmina executed traitors and purged subversives from their courts. They sent the Inquisition to root out subversive and non-Roman ideas like Islam and Catholicism, destroy heresies like Iconoclasm and hateful ideologies like socialism intended to destroy our civilization and traditions. They deported and resettled millions of French, Poles, and Arabs, and millions more were directly and indirectly killed. They didn’t believe in absolute freedom, not when it threatened the Imperium. Absolute freedom is anarchy, which is what those socialists want. Speaking of which, take the so-called Loyalists and their socialist masters…”

Anne tried hard not to vomit.

“Socialists had taken over one of our oldest allies, Russia, over twenty-five years ago,” continued Anderson, “They began imposing their godless anarchy over society. The rich and middle class were deported or executed. Churches and temples were looted and burned. Nobles were slaughtered in the streets. Poor farmers were forced from their homes and onto collectives. The Mongols of Yavdi were forced to adopt the Slavic alphabet and give up their language and culture. Their leaders Trotsky and Molotov have made it clear that they want all of us Romans dead. The Chinese are another threat to our Imperium. They want to take over the world, upsetting centuries of the natural order of thigns, and impose their will on everyone. Both of these threats have declared war on our civilization and way of life, not just on the Imperium as a nation. The so-called Loyalists used that opportunity not to express their solidarity and unity with their Roman brethren but to continue their war on their own Imperium. They sabotaged the security measures set up to root out subversives, allowing Russian, Chinese, and Loyalist saboteurs and agitators to flood into our country and spread havoc. They endangered their fellow citizens, dooming them to slavery and fates worse than death under the Russians and Chinese—”

“They did it to show that our rights were being TAKEN AWAY IN THE NAME OF NATIONAL SECURITY!” screamed Anne. “They did it because the government treats everybody as a terrorist and a subversive.”

“So they want to prove that they’re better than us, that none of us are terrorists, that they aren’t terrorists as well,” said Norbert, “So they act like terrorists? So they commit terrorism? Are you a terrorist? Do you defend terrorism?”

“God, no!” Anne shot back. “Committed terrorism? The Loyalists and the Resistance are two separate entities. The Resistance can be terrorists for all we care. But the Loyalists are not. They’re enemy combatants fighting for their vision of the Reich, making sure not to target civilian populations whenever possible. How is that terrorism?”

Anderson crossed the room and loomed over Anne, her arms crossed and her face cross. “Anne, you seem to think that nothing has changed in the Imperium. You need to understand that we are at war now, at war for the very soul of the Imperium and its people. We are not only at war with the godless equalists and barbaric nationalists but also our traitorous brothers, who in betraying the Imperium are even worse than the equalists and nationalists. Tens of thousands of our friends and relatives lie dead across the Imperium. This is a time not for more division but for national unity in the face of the violent insult our nation is suffering—”

Anne suddenly stood up. “National unity? The whole point of the Reich is that we’re the country where dissent is welcome, because suppressing dissent leads to division, and division leads to chaos, and chaos takes us back to the Middle Ages. If we only have one opinion, with no alternatives, we can’t decide if it’s good or bad.”

“Anne Frank,” said Anderson, “I think you know where Herr Schmidt’s office is. You will present yourself to him for an official apology and appropriate discipline immediately. I will not have my class disrupted by disrespectful if not treasonous behavior. For someone who claims to love Roman values, you’re willing to suppress those that do not agree with you. I should be reporting you to the authorities as a subversive, but I understand that my presence here may need some getting used to.”

Anne was fed up. She grabbed her backpack and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. An hour later, the bell rang, and Anne trudged out of school. Rita was waiting on the sidewalk, past the crowds of staring and jeering classmates. Norbert stuck out his leg, but she sidestepped him at the last second, to the annoyance of his friends. She wanted to punch him in the face, but she knew that would just make things worse.

“Anne, they tell me you’ve been raising hell again,” said Rita, “Do you have any idea how much trouble you almost got me in?”

“Relax,” said Anne, “They’re not going to pursue any charges, thank God.”

“That’s because of me,” said Tobias.

The billionaire strolled over to them, wearing his usual crisp business suit, while kids scattered and stared at the sudden appearance of someone they usually saw only in the papers, and in a not so child-friendly light.

“Get in the car,” he said, gesturing to a waiting limousine, “Now.”

Both girls obliged. Tobias got in the passenger’s seat, while Alfred drove off.

“What you did there was very brave Anne,” said Tobias, “And also very stupid. You know how many Angeloi I had to bribe and promise deals just to get your punishment down to a two-day suspension?”

“I had to say it,” said Anne, “That wasn’t teaching. It was propaganda. She told us that the Augustinian Code doesn’t matter!”

“And your words almost constituted treason,” said Tobias, “In case you forgot, we live in a dictatorship that suppresses dissent and is eager to lock up just about anybody as a subversive or terrorist. Just stating the facts can get you sent off to a reeducation camp or, even worse, killed like your parents. This is a country where fake news is real and real news is fake.”

“At least my parents died believing in a just cause,” said Anne.

Tobias glared at her. “You’re really stubborn, you know?” he said. “One of these days, it’s going to get you killed. But not today. While I’m alive, my job is to protect you. Anne, you have to understand that sometimes we have to make compromises to get through tough times…”

“Compromises?” said Anne. “Is that what the Loyalists and the Resistance do? Compromise? If they compromise, we might not be at war, but we’d all equally suffer under the Angeloi. We can’t compromise. I can’t compromise, not now, not ever. And if I die, so be it.”

“Anne, I’m your father,” said Tobias, “I don’t want you to suffer. I’ve seen many friends and relatives suffer. You can’t end up like them.”

“You’re not my father, Tobias,” said Anne, “My father died at the hands of the Angeloi. His death needs to be avenged.”

“Anne, please!” shouted Rita. “You can’t take on the Angeloi on your own. You’re just a kid. And we can’t let you get hurt again. We care about you, Anne. We really do.”

“The world is a dangerous place now,” said Tobias, “We can’t afford to lose each other, not after all of us went through. My responsibility is keeping you safe. And I’m going to do that.”

“But—” began Anne.

“No buts,” said Tobias, “We’ll discuss this at home.”

They continued driving.


Vienna – January 23, 1985

“I have been waiting for this moment for thirteen years,” said Olga.

“You know, if you’d been preparing for years you could’ve prepared a less cliched monologue,” said Diana in awkwardly phrased Russian.

“Shut up!” said Olga. “Why are you making this so difficult? I am the Firebird!”

“Firebird? Really?” Diana rolled her eyes. “Does everybody need a cool codename nowadays? Back in my mom’s day, she only needed to be called the Valkyrie. And you’re not really helping yourself get out of the clichés. Speaking of which…”

She moved between Olga and Anne. “If you want to get to my mom, you’ll have to get through me first.”

“You’re an idiot,” said Olga, “You’re unarmed.”

“I’m the Valkyrie’s daughter, actually,” countered Diana.

“Actually—” began Anne.

“Not now, Mom,” continued Diana, “For the supposedly best assassin in the entire KGB, you’re awfully talkative, not to mention young. Aren’t you a little young to be an assassin?”

“Your mother was much younger than me when she became the Valkyrie,” Olga countered.

“Actually—” began Anne again.

“Oh, tell me all about it,” said Diana, “Oh wait, you’re too busy trying to kill my mom. But you’re too busy monologuing like every other villain. How did you know my mother’s age when she became the Valkyrie? That’s kind of creepy. Assassins are supposed to be stalkers but not creeps. That takes away from the whole espionage thing.”

“For my potential killer, you’re not doing a good job,” said Anne in perfect Russian, “You talk too much. I’d get the job done instead of monologuing. Is this your first mission? I remember being nervous like this when I was your age.”

“I…what? No!” said Olga. “This is all a distraction, isn’t it? Trying to buy time for reinforcements to arrive? That itself is cliched, as cliched as monologuing. And besides, there are no reinforcements coming to save you. I’m standing on your colonel’s dead body. His troops are either dead or captured.”

“Actually,” said someone, “You forgot me.”

Olga turned around and saw Angela pointing a pistol at her. She laughed.

“Ha! And who are you?” Olga asked.

“The name’s Hansen,” said Angela, “Angela Hansen.”

Olga laughed again. “You do know that you didn’t switch the safety off, right?”

Angela blushed, her arms wavering. She shook in place, the fear getting to her head. Right at that moment, Diana lunged at Olga, tackling her against the wall. Diana punched Olga in the face as hard as she could, but Olga quickly hit back with equal force. Anne ran over to Angela’s side while Diana and Olga fought.

“Give me that,” she said, pointing to Angela’s gun. Angela quickly obliged.

“Shouldn’t we be running now?” said Angela.

“The one time none of us shouts ‘run!’, we don’t run immediately,” muttered Anne, “I suppose shouting that does make you run with a sense of urgency. But I need to get something first.”

Anne ruffled through Horst’s pockets, taking out his dog tag, wallet, keys, and gun. “His family is probably going to want us to bring something back from him. And we need his car.”

That being done, they ran towards the stairs, where Elisabeth Alexandra and Victoria Louise waited for them.

“Ready to go?” asked Victoria Louise, obviously impatient.

“Where are your bodyguards?” asked Angela.

“Dead,” said Victoria Louise, holding up a gun.

Meanwhile, Diana crashed into some stretchers, cursing as she reached for a tray, which she slammed against Olga’s head.

“Yeah, let’s get going now,” said Angela.

They ran down the stairs as fast as they could, Anne occasionally looking behind her to see if Diana followed. After a few long heartbeats, Diana burst into the stairwell and joined them, panting heavily. Anne tossed her Horst’s gun.

“She’s not that far behind!” she said.

“Yeah, we kind of figured,” said Anne, “You’re getting slow, Anna. That was hardly your personal best. Even your dad can do better.”

“Save the criticism for later, Mom!” shouted Diana.

They reached the lobby and ran outside, where they found Horst’s car surprisingly intact, given the state of the hospital and the surrounding street.

Anne got in the driver’s seat, while Victoria Louise sat in the passenger’s seat and the other three got in the back. Anne got the car started within seconds, which was surprising, given that every other car on the street had been at least slightly damaged. She quickly shifted gears and floored the gas pedal. The car sped off just as Olga ran onto the street and fired two quick shots at them. One bullet pinged off the roof. The other zipped through the rear window, spraying shattered glass and causing Angela to pull down Elisabeth Alexandra’s head. Then they rounded a corner and lost Olga.

“Everybody okay back there?” asked Anne.

“Yeah, we’re fine, aside from the fact we’re being chased by a monologuing equalist child assassin who fancies herself the anti-Valkyrie,” muttered Angela.

“I’m fine,” said Elisabeth Alexandra.

Diana looked down and found blood seeping into the fabric of the car seats. She leaned forward and reached back, revealing a gunshot wound in her lower back.

“Oh, isn’t that just great,” she muttered, before slumping over into Angela’s lap.

“Frau Hansen, I assume you know first aid,” said Anne.

“Yes, Director,” replied Angela, digging around the car for a first aid kit. When she couldn’t find one, she simply tore off part of her lab coat and wrapped it around Diana’s waist, trying to put pressure on the wound.

“Help me lean her forward,” she said to Elisabeth Alexandra, “That way she won’t bleed out.”

“How long until we reach the safehouse?” asked Victoria Louise.

“Just another fifteen minutes,” said Anne, “It’s up along the Danube, near UN Island, and without traffic it shouldn’t take long. We’ll be in good hands there. The place is run by some old friends of mine who know what they’re doing. We’ll go there and wait for the extraction.”

“Extraction?” said Elisabeth Alexandra. “The colonel said there was no extraction planned. He blamed it on bad weather or enemy air superiority or whatever.”

“He’s dead now,” said Anne, “And I’m certain there will be an extraction, given it’s to extract you and your mother. Imagine the PR nightmare if both you and your mother were killed or, even worse, captured. Your father would do anything to get you out of here, and he won’t care if a little snow or fog got in the way. Horst was an idiot to keep us in that hospital. In any case, Nina will give me the details. Right now, I have to drive.”

The car zipped through the streets, lurching over every pothole and crater and around every burnt-out vehicle. As Elisabeth Alexandra applied pressure to Diana’s wound, Angela looked out the window, watching the desolate landscape flash by. It was weird, seeing a normally busy and loud place so empty and quiet like this. It was hard to describe such a strange feeling, a feeling that one normally wouldn’t feel, a feeling that one could only find in such a deserted place that was once filled with people. One got the sensation that one was walking not through the streets of modern Vienna but rather among the ruins of ancient Babylon. Such was the extent of the destruction and abandonment if a once populous region.

It felt like an eternity, and Angela didn’t know when they arrived at the safehouse, only Anne knocking on the door. “Hello?” she said. “Open up, I’ve got wounded!”

“How was the drive from Constantinople?” came a woman’s voice from within.

“There was little traffic, but I could’ve done better with an umbrella,” replied Anne, looking very much annoyed. “Do I have to remind you that I hate countersigns?”

There was a pause, and then Angela heard the door unlocking and revealing Nina Novakova.

“Sorry, Anne, I know you hate countersigns, but protocols are protocols,” Nina said, “I had to be sure you weren’t compromised in any way. And that means countersigns.”

“You got to be kidding me,” said Anne, “I’ve been in a coma for two months, and you think I’ve been compromised?! Nina, come on, we’ve known each other for what, thirteen years?”

“Well, I thought you were still in your coma,” said Nina, “I had to be sure somebody wasn’t playing a recording of your voice. And you had to be sure this place wasn’t compromised.”

“I don’t think my Walkman is that good, fortunately for Dad,” joked Elisabeth Alexandra.

“Unless you think my daughter or I somehow became godless self-hating equalist traitors, I think you shouldn’t worry about spies,” said Victoria Louise, “Especially after we escaped some actual godless self-hating equalist assassins.”

Nina remained silent for about ten seconds. Then Angela heard some clicks as Nina unlocked the dozens of locks on the door, and the door swung open. “Please, I shouldn’t keep you out in the cold much longer.”

Alek Novak appeared next to her. “Don’t worry, we’ve stocked up on food,” he added, “We’ve got coffee waiting for you.”

Everybody hurried inside as quickly as they could, Angela and Elisabeth Alexandra propping up an unconscious Diana by her arms. They quickly laid Diana on the nearest couch, and Nina brought a first-aid kit for Angela to use. While the royals and Anne went to get coffee, Angela spent a while cleaning Diana’s wound and changing the bandages. Luckily the bullet had missed all of the major organs and blood vessels, or her task would have taken all night, and she had no desire to work all night in such unsanitary conditions. Besides, she didn’t have the training needed to do more than stitching up wounds. The Athanatos just needed some rest.

Anne walked into the room, holding a cup of coffee. “I saved some coffee for you,” she said, “Want some?”

“Leave it on the table,” said Angela, “I don’t feel like drinking now.”

“Seriously?” said Anne. “You saved us all back there. You deserve it.”
“I was just doing my job,” said Angela, “Isn’t that what the Hippocratic Oath is? Do no harm?”

“But you pointed a gun at that assassin, and you gave us time to escape,” said Anne.

“And I was an idiot to leave the safety on,” said Angela, “I should’ve known better.”

“At least you had the guts to try,” said Anne, “I’m impressed.”

She looked to Diana. “Is my daughter going to be okay?” she asked.

Angela nodded. “She’ll pull through.”

“I’ll take over,” she said, “Go get some rest. We’re eating dinner soon.”

“Is it dinnertime already?” said Angela. “It still feels like lunchtime.”

“Time flies when people are dying,” said Anne, “Believe me, I know.”

“Time also slows down when you’re trying to save them,” said Angela, “I helped out with some surgeries at the hospital. It felt like I spent days in the emergency room at one time.”

“And I felt like I spent an eternity and an instant in a coma,” said Anne, “It was a strange feeling, almost like I was dead. On one hand it feels like I’ve been out for years, and on the other it feels like seconds.”

“Your daughter must’ve been worried about you,” said Angela.

“I bet she was,” said Anne, “Your parents must be as well. Have you called them yet?”

“The public phone lines are down,” said Angela, “I can’t reach them.”

Anne motioned to a phone in the corner. “The Athanatoi phone lines are secure and should still be intact,” she explained, “Call your dad or something. Let him know you’re okay. He’s probably worried sick about you.”

“Yeah, maybe I should,” said Angela, “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”

Leaving Anne to look after Diana, she walked over to the phone and dialed home. Surely somebody was home to take the call.

“This is Erich Hansen,” came her dad’s voice, “I’m not available right now, so please leave a message after the beep.” Beep.

“Hey Dad,” she said, “It’s me, Angie. Sorry for not getting in touch sooner. I just want to let you know I’m okay and in a safe place. If everything goes well I’ll be home tomorrow. I love you, Dad. See you soon.”

She hung up and tried his work phone, which he had reminded her to never dial unless it was a complete emergency.

“You’ve reached the office of Assistant Director Erich Hansen,” came Erich’s voice again, “I’m sorry that I missed your call, and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Please leave a message after the beep.”

Angela left another message, asking whoever got it to tell her dad, and hung up. Usually, her dad would have answered one of the phones. He was probably out of office, most likely on some assignment somewhere. He must be worried sick about her. She could only imagine what her mother and siblings were thinking. What about the rest of her family? Her cousins, although she hadn’t gotten in touch with many of them recently, were still family. They were probably also worried about her.

“Trying to call someone?” asked Elisabeth Alexandra, walking up to her.

“Yeah,” said Angela, “My parents. They’re really worried about me.”

The princess nodded. “I understand,” she said, “The last time I talked to my dad, he was really worried about me and my mom. I should’ve heeded his advice to stay in Constantinople instead of coming to visit Mom.”

“Your Highness, you’re the heir to the Reich,” said Angela, “I’m just a girl from Nantes.”

“Call me Elisabeth,” said Elisabeth Alexandra, “And that doesn’t mean your parents love you any less. You’re still their daughter. They’re still worried about you. It’s just that the rest of the Reich is naturally worried about me, because of who my dad is. Because I’m the crown princess, everybody knows who I am. It’s annoying at times.”

“Seriously?” said Angela. “I thought you loved being famous.”

Elisabeth Alexandra sat down next to her. “That’s what everybody thinks of me. You know, sometimes I’m tired of the fame, the recognition. I can’t have a normal life. It’s all balls, parties, ceremonies, state visits, and other stuff royals do. I went to a regular school, but I was always surrounded by bodyguards. I couldn’t go to prom because of security reasons, and they couldn’t clear my prom date to visit Blachernae without getting mobbed by paparazzi. My dad almost couldn’t go to the father-daughter dance because the RAF called in a bomb threat. I’ve always been surrounded by paparazzi wherever I go. I can’t go to the mall or to anywhere else with my friends without my picture being splashed all over the papers and fueling gossip. It’s all so infuriating. There are times when I envy kids like you. You can go about your life without the entire Reich looking over your shoulder, live without worrying about everybody watching, go home knowing that your family cares about you because you’re family, not royalty. You get to be a normal girl, doing normal things, having your own life for the sake of your own life, not having obligations that the world holds you to.”

Angela nodded. “And you’re telling me this, because…”

“Because I’d like to thank you,” said Elisabeth Alexandra, “For saving us all. I’m saying this as a person, not the crown princess.”

Angela smiled. “Does everybody have to thank me?” she said. “Like I told the Director, I was just improvising.”

“I know when people improvise,” said Elisabeth Alexandra, “I’ve done plenty of that as a kid, out of necessity. What you did, pointing a gun at an enemy combatant like that, not caring about your safety, that was just brave. People don’t just improvise that.”

Angela hesitated. “Uh, thanks,” she said, “You know, I never expected to be thanked by you, of all people. I mean, to you I’d be nobody.”

“On the contrary, you’re more than a nobody,” said Elisabeth Alexandra, “You’re an example of the best of us in the worst of times. You saved us all, even though you could’ve died. Now, you can keep thinking you were doing your job, but we both know that you did way more. I mean, if you were just doing your job as a doctor or nurse or whatever, wouldn’t you have fled the hospital as soon as the gunfire drew close? Look, I’m not some snobbish aristocrat, contrary to what impression the Capets give off.”

“We’ve got dinner ready!” called Alek.

She smiled warmly and turned to leave. “Now, we should go eat,” she said.

“Elisabeth?” called Angela.

“Yeah?” said Elisabeth Alexandra.

“Thanks again,” said Angela.

Elisabeth Alexandra smiled wider. “Oh, please,” she said, “I should be thanking you. It’s not very often that I get to thank people like you.”
 
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Reactions:
Olga's monologue only failed because she didn't have them all strapped up to some strange contraption meant to cause their deaths after an excruciatingly long time. :D
 
No one used the literal deus-ex-machina in the room. :rolleyes:
 
Olga may have been foolish, but who can resist a good monologue?
 
To Olga’s defense, everyone knows a villain is only as good as their monologue.
 
OLGA
you had one job! ONE JOB!

What did happen to Norbert when he got older?
 
What did happen to Norbert when he got older?

That question assumes Norbert survived the rath of Anne. I don’t see him surviving the civil war, especially because how evil he is acting.

Evil characters haven’t exactly have a long life expectancy in this story.

That being said, he better die like all his fascist traitor comrades.
 
The End of History, Part 30

Anne stood on a meadow on a hill somewhere. Her bare feet treaded on dry grass. The wind blew through her hair. The sun shone down brightly on her. Birds chirped and sang, interrupting the calm rhythm of the wind. She was wearing her favorite blue dress, the one Rita bought her over thirty years ago. She last wore that when Diana was little.

At the bottom of the hill, there was a town. She walked through the streets of downtown. The place was completed abandoned. Cars lay abandoned at the curb. Shops were closed. She saw nobody inside or outside. Where was everybody?

She looked up at a flagpole and saw a Soviet flag proudly fluttering. She looked down and found herself surrounded by dozens of townspeople, all silently staring at her.

“Welcome to the European Union,” said Olga, calmly strolling past the townspeople, “Enjoying your stay?”

“What are you doing here?” demanded Anne.

“I’m telling you the future,” said Olga, gesturing to a map of the Reich on a whiteboard. It was more like a map of Europe, because the Reich didn’t exist on it. Nor did any other currently existing country, for that matter, including Russia itself.

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“What is that monstrosity?” Anne said.

“That is the future,” explained Olga, “The natural outcome of the failed experiment that is the Reich. The liberation of the oppressed peoples of Europe from capitalist Roman slavery. The final stage of progress. The end of history and the beginning of a truly equal society.”

“This is just part of my imagination,” said Anne, “That is a terrible map. I mean, why did you balkanize Russia as well? And the Occupied Territories? Did you put any effort into this mess of impossibilities? I know this is a dream, you idiot.”

“That just makes things better, doesn’t it?” smiled Olga. “It means you know how this war is going to end. You know the Reich’s going to lose. That’s why we slaughtered a hundred thousand of your men, right? That’s why your armies faltered here, right? That’s why we took this city, right? You do read the papers, right?”

“All a temporary setback,” said Anne, “The papers will reflect that.”

“Look at you,” said Olga, “Denying the truth. Your conscious mind may keep denying the natural course of progress, but your unconscious mind has already accepted it. It knows that the Reich is a failed state, built on contradictions that will now bring it down. It knows that there is no such thing as a Roman nation, a Roman people, but rather a German nation, a German people, a Greek nation, a Greek people, a French nation, a French people, Italian, Czech, Slovakian, Croatian, Serbian, Hungarian, and so on. The time for the Reich is past. The time for a Europe and freedom for its peoples is coming.”

“And if we don’t share your views?” said Anne.

Olga smiled wider. “Then you will all die.”

She disappeared before her eyes. There was a bright flash and then a roar. The buildings around her caught on fire and blew away under the onslaught of a shock wave. Her body burned and tore apart as the blast rippled through the town, incinerating around it. The last thing she saw was a mushroom cloud forming over what remained of the town.

Anne gasped for air and clawed at her bed, shaking herself out of the dream. She glanced around her twice, making sure she was still in the safehouse. Then she reached under a pillow, finding that there was no gun underneath it. Diana must’ve taken it while she was asleep. Wait, wasn’t she still recovering? She must be getting old.

There was a knock at her door.


Vienna – January 24

Angela knocked on Anne’s door. “Frau Director?” she asked. “Nina’s serving breakfast.”

“I’ll be right there,” replied Anne.

Angela headed downstairs to the dining room, where Elisabeth Alexandra and Victoria Louise sat at a table. The elder Kaiserin sipped tea and read yesterday’s copy of Die Zeiten. The younger crown princess helped herself to a cup of coffee and listened to music on her Walkman.

“What’re you listening to?” asked Angela.

“Oh, the usual, Michael Joachim,” said Elisabeth Alexandra.

“Personally, I prefer Prinz,” said Angela, “Michael’s a little too over the top.”

“And Prinz isn’t?” said Elisabeth Alexandra.

“You know what? He probably is,” said Angela, “Maybe I forgot. Haven’t been around a radio in a while.”

“Kids these days,” said Victoria Louise, “You should be listening to real music.”

“And what’s your definition of real music, mom?’ said Elisabeth Alexandra. “Strauss?”

“No,” said Victoria Louise, “The Kaferen.”

“I didn’t know you were a Lennon fan,” said Angela.

“I’m more of a McCartney fan,” replied the Kaiserin.

“I never thought I’d say this, but heresy!” replied Angela.

Elisabeth Alexandra laughed sarcastically. “Accusing my mother, the most powerful woman in the Reich, of being a heretic? You’ve got guts, kid.”

Just then, the radio crackled to life. “Guest House Victor 324, do you copy?” radioed a woman on the other side. “Over.”

Nina picked it up and adjusted the antenna. “Copy that, this is Agent Novakova,” she said, “The packages are secure. Awaiting further instructions. Over.”

“Agent Novakova, be advised there is an evac occurring at noon,” continued the agent on the other end, “Rendezvous at UN Island and prepare for extraction. Copy? Over.”

“Copy, over and out.” Nina put down the radio.

Diana walked into the room, a slight limp on her left leg.

“Got some sleep?” asked Angela.

“Enough,” said Diana, “I was more worried about Mom, though.”
“You worry too much, like your dad,” said Anne, walking in after her, “I’m fine.”

“For goodness sake, Mom, you were in a coma yesterday!” said Diana.

“Not anymore,” said Anne.

“Good news, everybody,” Nina interrupted, “We’re getting out of here. They’re sending helicopters to pick us up at noon.”

“About time they got here,” muttered Diana, “We waited here long enough.”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to stay here with your mom,” said Elisabeth Alexandra.

“Funny, I was going to say the same about you,” said Diana.

“Regardless of who’s to blame, they’re coming for us,” said Nina, “It’s about ten right now. We’ve got to reach the extraction point by noon.”

“The only problem…” said Nina, putting a map on the table, “Is that between us and UN Island are at least three thousand enemy soldiers waiting to kill us. Even without traffic getting there won’t be easy.”

“We split up, then,” said Diana, “We go in three cars. Me, Nina, and Alek will draw the troops away from the royals, Mom, and Angela and give them a route to UN Island. We’ll break through the troops and meet up at the destination in time for extraction.”

“Anna, you’re going with the Kaiserin,” said Anne, “You’re still recovering. You’re in no shape to fight that many enemies. I’ll go instead.”

“Mom, don’t worry about me, I’m an adult now,” said Diana, “I can handle myself. And I don’t want to risk them killing or capturing you. You’ve only been conscious for a day. I should be out there, not you.”

“I agree,” said Nina, “The Director is more important. We can’t risk it. We’ve got one shot at getting out of here, and—”

The window shattered, and Angela heard a bullet impact flesh. She looked up and saw Alek, who had just walked into the room carrying a pitcher of water, stop in his tracks. Blood leaked from a neat whole in the dead center of his forehead. The pitcher shattered on the rug, water spilling everywhere. Then he went limp like a rag doll and crumpled to the floor.

“Sniper!” shouted Nina. “Get down!”

As she hit the floor, Angela grabbed a spoon and tried looking through at who was shooting. Sure enough, she made out the image of Olga perched on a rooftop opposite the safehouse, holding what seemed to be a sniper rifle. Olga fired again, and another bullet shattered one of the coffee pots on the table.

“I thought bulletproof windows were standard Athanatoi procedure!” said Diana.

“Budget cuts!” replied Nina. “Blame Wilson!”

“Yeah, blame the war hawk for cutting military spending!” replied Elisabeth Alexandra.

More bullets raked the room, and suddenly the gunfire stopped. Angela slowly stood up and looked out the window. Olga was changing weapons to something…bigger.

“Hallway! Now!” she shouted.

Instinctively, everybody scattered for the exit. Angela had barely gotten out when a rocket slammed into the room, throwing debris everywhere. They didn’t stop running as soon as they got out of the room, but Nina did.

“Get to the garage,” said Nina, “Get in the cars and do what we planned.”

“Nina, I already lost Alek,” said Anne, “I’m not losing you too.”

“If they’re close enough to attack the safehouse, we won’t get far like this,” said Nina, “Get the royals and civilians to safety. I’ll draw their fire away from you.”

“No, you can’t do this!” said Anne. “Enough people have died already!”

“You can’t save everybody,” said Nina.

“Horst’s father said that,” said Anne, “Horst told me that a few years ago. But no, times have changed since then. We are at war again, and we need everybody who can fight! I am not losing you again, not in Prague and not here!”

“Anne, somebody has to provide a diversion,” said Nina, “You saved me in Prague. I’m just returning the favor. And besides, I have papers to burn.”

“No, Nina,” said Anne, “Please don’t do this.”

Nina smiled sadly. Then she handed Anne her Athanatoi badge. “Tell my kids that I died avenging Prague.”

Without another word, she ran off in the opposite direction.

“Nina!” Anne shouted. “Get back here! Nina!”

“Mom,” said Diana, pulling her back, “We need to go. Now!”

Anne turned around. “If Nina doesn’t come with us, we’ll be one car short. It’s the royals and Angela in one car and Diana and me in another. One diversion isn’t enough.”

“I can drive the third car,” Angela offered.

Anne stared at her. “You’re AD Hansen’s daughter, right?”

Angela nodded.

“Erich’s a good friend of mine, and I see where you get your stubbornness from,” said Anne, “But you can’t do that. You’re a kid, and I don’t like putting kids in danger. I don’t want to explain to him why I got his daughter killed.”

“It’s our only shot at getting the royals to safety,” said Angela, “Would you rather sit here and wait for them to close in? I’m a fast driver. They won’t catch me.”

Anne nodded. “You’ve got guts, kid,” she said, “You remind me of my younger self. If you really want to do that, then go ahead.”

“Mom, I really don’t think—” began Diana.

“I don’t think we have a better choice, Anna,” said Anne, “And I don’t think we have time for a second opinion. Let’s go!”


Nina finished tossing the last of the Athanatoi’s paper files in the furnace and walked over to the pile of tapes she had assembled on a nearby table. As she started tossing the tapes in as well, she heard a gun click.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your head,” Olga demanded.

“After what you guys did to us in Prague, I don’t think so.” Nina grabbed a tape and flung it at Olga’s face, throwing off her aim.

A bullet pinged off the roof. Nina flipped over the table and kicked it at Olga, tapes spilling in all directions. While Olga was busy extricating herself from the tape reels, Nina reached for a nearby gun. Olga grabbed her gun first and fired. A bullet tore through Nina’s left leg, and she collapsed in pain.

Nina cursed in Czech. She couldn’t help it, as those were the only swear words she learned in the Occupied Territories, and they sounded more appropriate for the situation than the German swear words anyways. She crawled away from the assassin, desperately reaching for her gun.

Olga kicked the gun away. “Don’t try it,” she said, pointing her gun at Nina’s head, “I don’t want to kill you. But orders are orders, and I have targets to capture. Anybody who stands in my way is to be interrogated, if they have information, or killed, if they don’t. Where are they?”

“You’re a spy,” said Nina, “You should already know where they’re headed.”

“You’re right,” said Olga, “So why should I keep you alive?”

Nina stared at Olga’s face. Something seemed off about Olga. Something familiar…she had a flash of memory, back to Prague thirteen years ago. Buildings collapsing, people crying out, soldiers and tanks firing into crowds, Anne firing back at them…children screaming as their parents died around them…jets screeching overhead…

“…Olga?” she said. “Is that—”

BANG.


Three cars screeched down the deserted streets of downtown Vienna, distancing themselves from the safehouse as fast as they could. Anne and Diana drove in front. Elisabeth Alexandra drove with her mother in the middle. And Angela, behind the wheel of Horst’s car, was right behind the royals’ car. Horst’s car was the only one that wasn’t bulletproof. Apparently, Athanatoi-issued cars weren’t affected by the budget cuts, but Horst’s car wasn’t bulletproof. She didn’t care about that. What she needed to do was to draw the enemy away from the royals. Getting out alive came next.

They approached an intersection, and they turned in different directions. The handheld radio on the passenger’s seat buzzed one more time.

“Gott mit uns, all of you,” radioed Anne, “Over and out.”

“Gott mit uns,” muttered Angela. She shifted into top gear and floored the throttle, the tires screeching against the pavement.

Of course, although the enemy would gladly shoot at the car as it was right now, she needed more enemies to shoot at her. And for that, she needed to expand the distraction. She needed more people to know there was a distraction. She loaded a tape into the car’s radio and hit play.


“Too soon, Liz?” said Angela. “Or Ellie, or Beth, or Alex, or whatever you call yourself.”

She rolled down the window. “COME AND GET ME, COMMIES!”

Several minutes passed without anything happening. Just when she was about to wonder if anybody was going to take the bait, Angela heard a motorcycle rev its engines and noticed movement in the mirror. Somebody was turning onto the street behind her. She glanced behind and saw Olga in pursuit, an assault rifle in one hand.

“Why do I have to get the assassin?” she muttered.

Before she could get an answer, Olga opened fire, and bullets raked the back of Horst’s car. She ducked and swerved from side to side, dodging as much of the gunfire as possible. One tire lurched as it ran over a pile of rubble, causing Angela to swipe another car. At least Horst wasn’t around to complain.

The bullets kept coming, shattering what was left of her windows and those of the buildings they drove past. More bullets pinged off cars and brick walls, tearing through metal and wood as well as rubble. Angela shifted into a higher gear and hoped to outrun Olga. Thankfully, Olga stopped firing at that point to reload. But she didn’t slow down. The motorcycle drew closer and closer.

Angela didn’t know if she could escape Olga, and she didn’t even know why she was coming after her. She wasn’t an important target. Why was she not going after Anne or the royals? After all, she was just a regular girl from Nantes.

Olga finished reloading and opened fire.
 
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Olga's monologue only failed because she didn't have them all strapped up to some strange contraption meant to cause their deaths after an excruciatingly long time. :D
Technically occupied Vienna counts as a large strange contraption meant to cause their deaths eventually.;)
No one used the literal deus-ex-machina in the room. :rolleyes:
Wilhelm's gone, and Diana doesn't want her mother to fight. Don't think there's anybody else that qualifies as a literal deus-ex-machina.:D
Olga may have been foolish, but who can resist a good monologue?
Anne, of course.:p
To Olga’s defense, everyone knows a villain is only as good as their monologue.
Don't blame her. It's her first mission. Of course she'll have a horrible and overly complicated monologue.:p
OLGA
you had one job! ONE JOB!

What did happen to Norbert when he got older?
That question assumes Norbert survived the rath of Anne. I don’t see him surviving the civil war, especially because how evil he is acting.

Evil characters haven’t exactly have a long life expectancy in this story.

That being said, he better die like all his fascist traitor comrades.
Originally I planned Norbert to be a one-off character, but my plans for him changed. I'll write a follow-up for him in a couple or so updates which should wrap up his arc.;)
You could've just posted Wagner's Gotterdammerung.:D
 
That map, a map of an Ultra-Balkanised Europe I take it?

It truly is a eyesore beyond all comparisons.
Yeah. That isn't even the fully balkanized one. The even more fully balkanized one is even more of an eyesore.

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Even though this is much better for my purposes, I didn't use it because of the anachronistic names.
 
Yeah. That isn't even the fully balkanized one. The even more fully balkanized one is even more of an eyesore.

Wg6rz4y.png


Even though this is much better for my purposes, I didn't use it because of the anachronistic names.
My eyes! They burn! :eek: Also, I wonder if this would be considered Voltaire’s Hell. Please don’t make one that’s even worse. :p
 
I was about to say that Italy should be way more balkanized than how you had it. That other map is more appropriate, if a complete eyesore. What a terrible Europe. :eek:
 
I am not sure if the red things are one country or just a bunch of different ones.

And even worse, I don't even know which is worse.
If you mean the red line around the HRE, I’m pretty sure that’s just the borders of the empire. The dotted lines are probably lands that break/broke off from the empire as one set of them outlines the Italian States.
 
If you mean the red line around the HRE, I’m pretty sure that’s just the borders of the empire. The dotted lines are probably lands that break/broke off from the empire as one set of them outlines the Italian States.

I was referring to the red splotches all over the empire like a bad case of the chicken pox. I think they are either imperial cities or church holdings, but it may be some big trade state.