Deutchland, Wach!

[unscratchedfoot]

Yeah Skypie!! After reading this I was tempted to write a story in half english/half japanese (*it would be nice if you put the translation in the brackets for us who know not a word of German*).

And continue the story please

[Micha]

Chapter 1:
<“Liegen Sie hier der vergöttertste König der Deutsch,”> (Please lay here, the most admired king of German ???)
should be:
"Hier ruht der grösste König der Deutschen, ..."

On a note: Otto von Bismarck has never been King, in fact there hasn´t been any King of Germany. Germany consisted of many kingdoms bound together to form a Kaiserreich, so the leader was a Kaiser (Emperor), not just a king. Bismarck however only has made it to chancellor, the right hand of the Kaiser.

“Deutchland,” he spoke in the ancient tongue that the walls warmed to, “Wach.” (Germany, be on the guard.)

I think you meant "wake up, Germany!", which would translate to "Deutschland erwache!". One more thing, Deutschland needs the <"s"> in it, for it sounds gay without it


Chapter 2:
< Um zusammen das gebrochene zu binden,
um die Verstorbenen zu erwecken,
die Dies das Schwert der Deutsch ist>

Um zu vereinen was zerbrach,
Um zu erwecken was erstarb,
dies das Schwert der Deutschen ist!

On a note: It would be much more realistic to turn it into Barbarossa´s sword. Bismarck was a politician, not a warrior. He never used a sword, and I doubt he could have. His weapon was diplomacy. Kaiser Friedrich Barbarossa however was the greatest of all German leaders. He unified the kingdoms to the first Reich, he defeated the eastern invaders, he was a real Warrior! Also there´s a legend that he will awake in his tomb and save the Germans when the times turn bad for them.

<“Welcome to the Volk Gefängnis.”>
Volksgefängnis. Just put them together, but don´t leave the genitiv "s" out

Chapter 3:
< Deutschland uber alles, Johan smiled back at the men who had so quickly come to accept him, above all the petty disputes, above every difference. Deutschland>
über alles. I know it´s popular in English to use "uber", but here such a word doesn´t exist. It´s "über" or "ueber".

<“Deutschland,” Johan stepped forward, lifting his fist, “Wach!”>
Again, it should be "Deutschland, erwache!"

Chapter 3: (you have two "chapter three"s )
<“He’s been gone a day, it usually take that long?”
The other men frowned, “Ja, Mein Kaiser.”
“Scheisse.”
He nodded in return, “ja.”>
Why the last line? You should cut it out, it doesn´t fit.

<“Uber alles, Uber alles!” resonated across the yard.>
Again, über alles, with "ü"...

<“Deutschland Leben.”> (Germany. Life. ???)
If you meant "Germany lives", it should be "Deutschland lebt."

Chapter 5:
<“Deutschland Leben?” Johan read, stepping out of the car.>
Again, "Deutschland lebt!" is the way to go

<“Ja, these are your Volk, Kaiser.”>
Volk is singular, people plural. So either you translate it all into German or you leave it English... Also if someone talked to the emperor only using "... Kaiser", he´d get shot. It´s either "..., Eure Majestät!" (Your majesty), "..., Mein Kaiser" (my emperor) or "..., Mein Herr!" (my master).

<“Deutschland Leben?”>
Again. Deutschland lebt...

Chapter 7:
<“Have you ever heard of the Volk Gefängnis?”>
Again, it should read "Volksgefängnis".

<“Gott in Himmel!”
Johan smiled in the back seat, “Ja.”>
Gott im Himmel! (just a minor thing, but still ... )
You shouldn´t answer "Holy Lord!" with "yes", it sounds a bit... arrogant...

<“Lassen Sie die Bastarde schleppen Sie hinunter nicht.”>
This is a part I didn´t understand. Could you please tell me in English what this should mean?

[SKILORD]

ahh... but scratch, that would take all the fun away!

-

See, as Micha has demonstrated I don't speak any German either. Thanks man, as for the last bit.. I think it's supposed to be something like 'Don't let the bastards get you down.' Thanks, again.

[Micha]

Ah, then it should be "Lassen Sie sich von diesen Bastarden nicht unterkriegen!"

[Whoha]

the umlauts are a pain in the butt dont worry about them

[Whoha]

can't do the double s that looks a lot like a B either. Whats the name for that? shaffes?

[Micha]

Originally posted by Whoha
the umlauts are a pain in the butt dont worry about them

Wrong! If you cannot write them as they are, write them as we do in crosswords. The plain vowel plus an "e".

ä -> ae (alt + 132 or 142)
ö -> oe (alt + 148 or 153)
ü -> ue (alt + 129 or 154)

If you simply leave the dots out, you present yourself as a "stupid American". (quote from an American guy I had this discussion with)

Originally posted by Whoha
can't do the double s that looks a lot like a B either. Whats the name for that? shaffes?

You mean "ß". It´s called "eszett" (S-Z). It isn´t just "ss" but a "sharp S".

ß (alt + 225)

[Paddy]

what the

[Whoha]

Originally posted by Micha

Wrong! If you cannot write them as they are, write them as we do in crosswords. The plain vowel plus an "e".

ä -> ae (alt + 132 or 142)
ö -> oe (alt + 148 or 153)
ü -> ue (alt + 129 or 154)

If you simply leave the dots out, you present yourself as a "stupid American". (quote from an American guy I had this discussion with)


You mean "ß". It´s called "eszett" (S-Z). It isn´t just "ss" but a "sharp S".

ß (alt + 225)

bah thats still too much typing for this stupid American

[ChrisiusMaximus]

I dont mean to sound rude or anything guys, and Im sure your advice and help is of help to SKILORD, but all your posts are rather filling the thread and new readers may find it hard to follow the story when and if any future installments are added.

When and if being the operative words SKILORD

[Micha]

So... is there any chance that those changes get implemented in your story, skilord?

[SKILORD]

yeah, there's a very good chance. But I'm trying desperately to win a mock trial right now (A mockery of Newdow vs. The US Congress etc.) I'm also involved in several less amusing tasks that fill my final weeks of high school.

Dear Lord... the thought is terrifying.

[EQandCivfanatic]

enough talk, more story

[SKILORD]

Alright, edited.

I might even bring a new chapter.... you never know!

-

About the 'Kaiser' disrespect thing, Damien doesn't really think he's the Kaiser and really wouldn't respect him.

[SKILORD]

Parental Advisory: I break with the wiser aspects of my nature to allow the characters to be as angry as they are. I do not apologise for the graphic nature of this chapter nor for the cursing, I only warn you beforehand. It will drop from this, I assure you, and this chapter will probably be the bloodiest of them all. You have been warned.

The inside lights were off, Johan flicked the light on the top of his hat, peering suspiciously into the inexplicable darkness. The outside lights had been on.

He let out a short, high pitched whistle, turning his head back and forth. He stepped forward into the dark.

The Kaiser’s mausoleum wasn’t hard to find, it was a large and ornate building. He slipped inside of it, using his headlight to stare into the darkness, hoping for a shimmer. He pulled back the cloth he had wrapped the sword in, it was disappointingly light.

“Are you going to surrender easy, mein herr?”

The man was leaning against the door to the mausoleum, his cigarette glowed and from the faint lights from outside Johan could make out the identity.

“Edward, friend,” he spoke calmly, quietly, “They told me you were dead.”

Edward laughed, shrugging, “Call me lazarus.”

They were quiet there for a moment, escape routes raced through Johan’s head, each being discarded as quickly as it was conceived.

“What are you, Ed, MI-6?”

Edward laughed again, “Maybe. Maybe I am.”

Johan shook his head, “Who am I goin to tell, Ed? The other inmates back at the Geffanis?”

Edward pushed himself off of the doorframe, “There are other agencies. Some of them are better than MI-6.”

“So you’re one of those?”

Edward stepped forward slowly, “Maybe, John, Maybe I am.”

The handcuffs glittered in the light of his head lamp, “You wouldn’t do that to a friend, would you now?”

Agent Rhodes grinned, “Why did you come here John, you couldn’t have thought we would have left that little knife.”

“No, I didn’t think you would have.”

“Why’d you come here then?”

“I figured there would be someone here who knew where it was.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah,” Johan grinned, “Just like you.”

“What did you plan then?”

“I had some grandiose plans about overcoming the fellow and beating the information out of him,” Johan pulled a pocketknife out of his pants.

Edward stepped back, spreading out open palms, “You gonna try?”

“I imagine so, I don’t have a better option.”

Edward nodded, “yeah.”

They paused, staring at each other for a moment.

“So, you know where it is?”

“No.”

Johan shrugged, “Well, it can’t hurt to ask.”

Edward stepped forward, holding the handcuffs out, “Let’s make this easy John.”

“It’s Johan,” with a grin he shot his foot out, catching Edward neatly in the side of the knee, dropping him. He grabbed Edward on the way down, pulling him in front of himself and slipping the pocketknife right over the Brit’s jugular.

Bullets stared at him through barrels of hidden guns, Johan could feel their stares, he held his human shield close.

“Tell them to fall back.”

Edward breathed heavily, pain thrusting itself up from his knee.

“F*ck you, you g***amned Kraut.”

The knife came off of the jugular, Johan thrust it into the top of Edward’s shoulder.

“Why the f**** did you do that,” Edward screamed slipping to the ground.

Johan brought his hand back to the throat, lifting his hostage back up, “Call off your dogs.”

“You think I can’t stand this?”

“I don’t care one way or the other.”

“You think you can get away with this?”

“I think that if I don’t, I’ll die. One way or the other it works for me.”

Johan began to edge his way towards the door, keeping his back firmly against the wall.

“You pissed off the wrong motherf***er, I’ll tell you that. You sure as hell better get me killed, Ed, because if you don’t I swear that there will come a day that Berlin burns every f***ing Union Jack she’s ever seen.”

“You Krauts, all talk.”

Johan jabbed the pocketknife into his torso, off to the side, away from the heart.

“Don’t f*** with me, Ed, don’t. Where’s the sword?”

Johan was creeping towards the open door, he realized there would be guards out there somewhere too, and no wall to press his back against.

“I don’t know, how the f*** would I know?”

“You’re in charge of all of this, Ed, Where’s the sword?” Johan reached all the way down to the broken kneecap, slipping the knife in with all the delicacy of a surgeon.

“Yeah,” Edward flailed about, “Alright, I know, f*** you.”

“Wrong answer,” the knife began to move up, without being pulled out of the cut, extending it sloppily up his thigh, getting caught and forced up.

Edward screamed, kicking himself up with this unharmed leg swatting at the German with his unharmed arm. They reached the door.

“You wanna tell me?”

“F*** you.”

Johan threw the body out the door.

-

Rifles barked, screaming outrage into the tall grass outside the excavation, searching for the German and finding nothing but grass and dirt. Most of the gunmen were attempting to call for an ambulance, propping Agent Rhodes up and slapping bandages onto his cuts.

“You’ll live, sir.”

“Will he?” Edward asked.

“We haven’t found him yet, sir.”

“He came out of the door with me.”

“We can’t find him, sir.”

Edward shook his head, “F***in Kraut didn’t disappear.”

“Yes, sir, we know.”

-

The gunmen from inside were running out, hurtling themselves towards the door, focused, intent.

They didn’t notice the shadows, the glint of the knife and the dark figure, Johan realized that they probably wouldn’t.

It wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

He slipped out of the shadows, slamming his knife deep into the throat of the man in front, making a clean, smooth grab for the rifle that he held out in front of him, yanking it free and pulling it to his shoulder, firing a burst into the line of gunmen and throwing himself to the side.

In the shadows he paused just long enough to flip the rifle to fuill automatic, aiming for the muzzle fires that sent out bullets that couldn’t find him. A couple of swings silenced the men who didn’t have any cover.

The door was suddenly dark as the gunmen outside started to file politely in, Johan hardly had to try to kill the first group.

They stopped coming in so quickly then, pointing their guns in without even looking and firing, a few more shots., Johan grabbed a body and began to drag it deep into the site, he knew just the spot. He kept firing, hoping they wouldn’t even notice it was a retreat.

-

“I limped off after he shot me, sir.”

The gunman was bleeding from the leg, the thigh, it wasn’t a bad injury, compared to most he had gotten off rather well, the bullet hadn’t even caught, but had simply torn a streak out.

“You might have stayed there, and he might not have gotten away.” The gunman from outdoors sneered, “You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”

The man he had found inside hung his head low, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Go report to Agent Rhodes, he’s outside waiting for his ambulance.”

“Yes sir.”

The pain wasn’t so bad as he had anticipated; he could still use his leg, mostly. It kept the men who didn’t know the fellows under their own command away from suspicion, Johan grinned to himself as he limped to the door.

The ambulance was there, a pair of orderlies were lifting Edward, in a stretcher, into the back.

Johan exaggerated the limp, “I’ve been hit, I’ve gotta come along.”

An orderly offered him a hand, the gun swung around to face the inside of the ambulance.

-

The outdoor gunman came out from the excavation site, there were three men tied up, lying in the door.

“Where’s the ambulance?”

An assorted and confused mumbling rose from the bound mass.

Johan von Bismarck drove off, armed and dangerous, hostage in tow.

-

“Where’s the sword, Ed?”

The rifle barrel was pointed directly between his eyes, the ambulance was long gone and they sat alone in a dim and moldy apartment.

“F*** you.”

The rifle was raised to Johan’s shoulder, tight, the aim was perfect, like a fish in a barrel, “I’m not bluffing, you know that.”

Edward shook his head, “I know, you f***in shot yourself, you’ll have no trouble with me.”

Johan moved his rifle to the Shoulder, blood was already seeping out from the cut, “I’ll take you to a hospital later.”

The bullet fired out, glancing the shoulder, leaving a streak of red on the wall.

Edward started to curse, screaming profanity.

“Where’s the sword?”

“F*** this,” Edward exhaled deeply, “It’s in the museum’s storage, why the f*** didn’t you just look there first, you know where it would be.”

Johan smiled, pulling his rifle back.

“Had to make sure.”

Edward growled, “And you got to kill some of us, didn’t you, ye sadistic German bastard.”

Johan grinned, “Those dead will speak for me, they will whisper on the streets, they will scream in anguish from every dark alley. Britain will hear the screams and tremble.”

“So you’ve dropped yer conscious somewhere along the way?”

“Maybe so.”

-

The blood was still on the steps to the hospital, the patient was in traction, an IV stuck into his arm, the bleeding finally appeased. The doctor shook his head, this guy was in bad shape.

A glare boiled out of the broken and pained features while the doctor assured Agent Rhodes that the drugs would kick in any moment.

“The s*** I do for my country, huh doc?”

The doctor shook his head, he couldn’t imagine how the country had been served by whatever his patient had done to get himself into this mess.

"The mouse takes the cheese, doc, every f***ing time. The mouse takes the cheese."

A quiet delerium began to play itself across the insides of Edward Rhode's eyelids.

[unscratchedfoot]

Wow, we're being introduced to Skipie style intrigue for a change. Something bad is going to be waiting for Johan at the museum no doubt.

Isn't anyone else reading this rubbish... whoops... I mean exhilirating stuff?

Keep the material coming.

[KuriousK724]

this is thrilling! although i cant fully enjoy it cause of class.... well back to autocad... looking forward to the next tvma installment!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Hey SKILORD I heard you been looking for me well here I am !

Excellent stuff, truly excellent, they should make a film of this !!

I thoroughly enjoyed reading that chapter, please please please keep the goods coming

[SKILORD]

Thanx for the support, I'll get the next chapter up asap.

(I'm graduating from high school soon, I'm a little busy)

And I'm trying to start up 'Wonderland'

[SKILORD]

I've got the next chapter almost entirely written. I'd finish it but its on another computer.

Anyway... I'm thinkin of youse guys.

[unscratchedfoot]

hurry up

[SKILORD]

It was convenient to have a gun, it occurred to Johan as he approached the tall fence of the Museum storage area. He smiled at his acquisition, which hung limply from a shoulder strap, as he slid a wire cutters out from his pack.

He was dressed entirely in black, the little belt pouch was black, he slid like a ghost through the slit in the fence, it was slender enough that it wouldn’t be noticed by a pudgy, overpaid museum guard. He had been here before, escorting pieces he had unearthed, he knew the sort.

There was a light on the end of the gun that he now clenched against his shoulder, it was off, he felt it necessary not to be noticed. He shot through the darkness, keeping himself low, peering deeply into corners before venturing them. He knew where they would have put the sword, unless they were trying to trick him. If it was a trap, as he suspected, they had no intentions of tricking him.

He crawled up to the roof of the building, using the maintenance ladder, he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t have this entrance covered, but it seemed a better chance to take.

The rifle peered over, he was holding it in one hand and hoping that he could hold on if he had to fire.

The roof was silent, empty, black.

Johan pulled himself up, his rifle now at his hip as his free hand stabled him.

He looked around, a little confused. They’re just trying to confuse me.

He walked over to the ventilation outlet, sliding the cover off and lowering himself in. His legs wouldn’t reach the bottom, and he started to wonder if this had been such a good idea.

He tried to pull himself up, his average sized arms strained against the weight of the rest of his body, the metal sides of the ventilation opening dug into his flesh.

He cursed.

He let go.

-

The bottom of the long metal shaft was dark, he rubbed his hand along his rifle, checking it for damage.

Finding none he flicked on the light, letting it dash down the ventilation shaft before flicking it back off.

He started to crawl forward, his gun perched on his shoulder and pointing into the dark.

-

He was lost, and he wasn’t very surprised by this. The dark alleys of the ventilation system had few openings, and the only way to drop lower was to drop all the way to the floor, a good fifty feet if he guessed right from his memories.

He cursed under his breath, the tunnel creaked.

His head jerked around as the aluminum tunnel began to droop with him inside of it.

He darted forward, up an incline. The tunnel stopped creaking as he darted towards a nearby ventilation hole. He peered through it.

He saw the top of a box, illuminated by the moonlight that peered through one of the immense windows near the roof at this point the didn’t care where it was, he only hoped that the Limey’s weren’t close enough to see him.

He kicked out the grill and slid down.

He took a quick look around the warehouse, there was no light but the moon. He started to crawl down the front of the box, down the front of the massive shelves that held myriad bounties from the modern raids into ages past.

As silently as he could manage he slid down to the stark cement floor.

There was no noise besides him, he lifted his gun up to his shoulder and started to look around him, identifying his location.

He saw an immense stone structure, and it occurred to him that he had broken into the wrong building.

-

He grabbed a fire hose, severing it from its source, cursing as he did so.

He went across the small street, avoiding the flashlights of guards making their lazy patrols, and climbed up the maintenance ladder.

He looked inside a large window near the roof, there was no light, he pulled on it until it lifted, propping it up with a metal extension.

He shook his head, tying the hose to the extension.

He’d be an easy target for a little while, but he wasn’t prepared to go through the hell of the ventilation systems again. He grabbed the line with one hand, using the other to hold on to his rifle. It was an intimidating posture that did little to help him, he had only a feeble hold on the hose and his control of the rifle would have been better if he had just let it hang. If anyone decided to start firing at him he would probably kill himself with a combination of the fall and stray bullets. He repelled down the wall.

The rope stopped about fifteen feet too soon, Johan realized that he would have to get better at espionage if he intended to bring about a revolution like this. He started swinging himself out, hoping to reach the nearest storage shelf.

The window swung shut.

The rope gave, dropping him suddenly down right above the ground.

The noise still rang in his ears, screaming that he had been found, that the English were on their way, he pressed his back against the wall and pointed his gun around.

There was no response.

He shook his head, peeling himself away from the wall and dashing silently through the halls. The swords.

He grinned, searching through the carefully preserved artifacts, examining each label until he found the one he wanted.

There weren’t any Englishmen around.

It was almost too easy, Johan grinned and picked the sword up. It was perfectly balanced.

He slid it into the scabbard he had brought, it was a poor fit but he would have time for details later.

Now all he needed were the crown jewels, he grinned, those were held in the Empress’s Throne room, besides the Russian crown and under the English.

He slid open the door, too giddy with excitement about the ease of his grab of the sword to check for the flashlights.

One of the beams caught him.

“You there!”

-

He ran. The bigger man wasn’t as fast, and he fell behind, but there were certainly reinforcements coming. He also realized that he had run in the opposite direction of his original incision, he didn’t think he could waste the time to make another.

A bullet bit the dust next to his feet.

“The next one won’t miss,” the fat man assured him, wheezing sloppily.

“I don’t want to shoot you.”

They stood in the dark, the moon casting disapproving eyes upon them, Johan’s rifle hung at his waist, his finger gripping the trigger tightly.

“You won’t. You can’t get that thing up to your shoulder before I hit you, you can’t hit me from your waist.”

Johan took a step back, the handgun in the other man’s palm rose threateningly, he stumbled a few steps forward, “don’t test me.”

Johan shook his head, chuckling to himself, “You’re pretty ballsy for a night watchman.”

“I’ve seen my share of burglars, you aren’t that impressive.”

The reinforcements were coming, Johan wouldn’t have time much longer.

“Dammit.”

He shot from the waist, clipping the guard in the leg.

He lifted it to his shoulder, slamming a bullet into the guard’s shoulder.

Johan von Bismarck wasn’t a very good burglar, but he slipped into the night.

-

The gurney wheeled madly through the hall, Edward sat passively in his cot, watching nurses hurry up and down the hall, arms full of supplies.

“Excuse me,” he asked a nurse who was passing by, “What’s going on?”

“A gunshot victim, two rounds, from the museum,” she turned her head back to the front, attempting to escape.

“’mam, did they catch the b****** who did it?”

She took a moment more to look in on him, “No.”

She left, caught up in the weight of the man’s struggle, Edward Rhodes grinned happily, all things were coming to pass as had been planned. Magnificent.

“The Mouse takes the Cheese, every f***ing time.”

[SKILORD]

New chapter up soon.

I guess you guys don't like that chapter, I have an idea of why. I'll fix things for the next one.

[unscratchedfoot]

.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Yes I like it, sorry its taken me a while to read this and reply.

Its great, your leaving the chapter with enough of an incentive for us to come back and read the next.

The last bit where Rhodes Grins to himself is superb, nice intrigue, in fact very nice intrigue, well done.

[SKILORD]

I'm gonna try to get a chapter (2 if possible) up today and/or tomorrow before I set off on my Senior Trip.

[Paddy]

Originally posted by unscratchedfoot
.

you have quite a way with your words

/me pour Scratch a cold beer

[SKILORD]

I don't have my 'A' writing game on tonight, but I felt obliged to give you a chapter since I won't be back for a good while.


-


The lights were flashing, and the bar was packed, women were dancing on the far side of the room, on top of the bars. Johan shook his head; the underbelly of Berlin was a lusty place.

The crowd at the bar was mostly around a single man, a wiry figure who was wearing a baseball hat that read ‘Freiheit.’ Johan grinned, Timothy Rommel.

Rommel was associated with every story that Johan had heard of the Volkgeffanis before he had been there himself. He had been in command of a tank battalion and was leading them through maneuvers in the desert. He had come across the gefannis. He had quit the army and gone mercenary, he was a dark hero, but the only hero Germany had had for the last years.

Johan reached into his trench coat, grabbing the hilt of his sword, he drew the eyes of the crowd. “Guten Abend gute Herren.”

There was a parade of clicks as dozens of guns were pulled and presented by the crowd, Johan grinned.

“I am here in the name of the Monarchy.”

There was a nearly synchronized chuckle from the bar.

Johan shook his head, yanking the sword out of its scabbard. He held it out, offering it to Rommel.

Rommel shook his head, “What’s this?”

“The sword of the Reich.”

Rommel guffawed, taking it and reading the inscription.

“A magnificent forgery,” he propped it against the bar, “shoot him.”

“Wait,” Johan backed up, reaching for his rifle under his trench coat, “My name is Johan von Bismarck, I’m here to start a revolution.”

Timothy shook his head, lifting his hand towards the eyes that looked to him for a signal.

“You think it hasn’t been tried before? Do you think that the Reich has been sleeping so peacefully for these years? Deutschland Lebt nicht.”

Johan shook his head, “You know better than that, Deutschland lives in prisons across the backcountry of this nation,” Johan pulled up the sleeve of his coat, presenting his scars, “I’ve been there.”

Rommel shook his head, stepping over to Johan, inspecting the scars.

Rommel looked at him, “I’m not going to have you shot, you’re harmless to me, leave this place.”

Rommel turned away, beginning a walk back to the bar.

“What if I pay you?” Johan asked in desperation.

“To kill people?” Johan nodded as he heard the chuckle, “How much a head?”

“A thousand.”

The men at the bar grinned, laughing.

“Try again.”

Johan winced, “Ten Thousand.”

Rommel shrugged, “Who’re the marks?”

“A few officials, Brits.”

“You don’t have that money, do you?”

Johan frowned, “I can get it.”

“I’ll need it in advance.”

Johan frowned, “You want a list?”

“Be back tomorrow with at least one kill’s worth and the list.”

-

The metal suitcase flapped against his leg. Johan shook his head, if he didn’t pull all of this off he was a dead man, the loan sharks would ensure that. He would bleed eighteen thousand dollars if he had to.

“Guten Abend,” One of Rommel’s men cracked the door.

“I’ve got enough for three kills.”

The door swung open, “Welcome then.”

Rommel stood on the other side, “Who’s warrants are you signing here?”

Johan shrugged, “The mayor, The governor, and Edward Rhodes.”

“Edward Rhodes?”

“He’s MI6.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’s f***ed me over a few times, got me sent to the geffanis, tried to kill me.”

“It personal?”

“A little.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

Johan shrugged, “I don’t have it in me, we used to be friends.”

Rommel shook his head, “A Brit and the Kaiser?”

“I didn’t know back then.”

Rommel chuckled, “give me the cash.”

He handed it off to one of the men, who propped it open and started to inspect it.

“So, you gonna get the people involved in your little insurrection or just have some people assassinated?”

“I have a plan.”

Rommel shook his head, “I like you kid, you remind me of myself when I was your age.”

“I’m not that young.”

“It’s not the number of years you’ve been here, years are a number, its your age. I remember it. I thought I could make a difference, help change England from the inside.”

“Just make the hits.”

-

The villa of the governor was located outside of Berlin, in the almost tropical side of the Rine River. The governor had the queen’s authority over the province of Berlin, named after its capital and including the former German cities.

A bodyguard held his rifle tight to his hip, peering suspiciously out the window.

Smoke began to creep out from under the door of the closet.

The bodyguard went over to inspect it.

He opened the last door he ever would.

-

The explosion shook the glass in the governor’s office, “What the f*** was that? Get an explanation.”

The bodyguard who had been in the office stepped out, looking down the hall, shouting an order to a man on the other side.

He turned back into the room, looking to the governor, who looked back blankly.

His face was pale, a bullet hole through his chest. There was an object on his desk that hadn’t been there a moment before.

There was an open window on the other side of the office, he realized a moment before he was blown away with all the potential evidence in the room.

-

The rifle smelled like wood polish, the scope was clear, he could see the Mayor through the window of the limousine.

“F***in limey.”

The window was bulletproof; there wasn’t any sense in shooting yet. The air was thick and warm on top of the building; the sun was setting to the west.

The car came to a stop and the mayor stepped out.

“Guten nacht.”

-

The hospital was dark, Rommel grinned as he found the right room. He pushed open the door.

Agent Rhodes was lying asleep on his bed, he was in traction. It would be an easy ten thousand.

The silenced handgun was only a few feet away from Rhodes.

A hand armored with plaster swept it out of the way; Rhodes pulled his other hand around, a gun in his grip.

Rommel dropped to the floor as the gunshots tore into the wall that had been behind him. Agent Rhodes pulled his leg down and dragged himself up.

Rommel rammed himself into the bed, forcing it onto its side and forcing Rhodes onto the floor, the bed between them.

Bullets started to blast through on either side, each man hoping to get a lucky shot on the other.

Rhode’s gun clicked empty, a few moments later Rommel’s followed suit.

“You’re not much of an assasin, are you John?”

Rommel grinned, “I am an excellent assassin Mr. Rhodes.”

Rhodes laughed on the other side of the bed, “I didn’t think he’d have it in him himself. So who are you, a second rate bounty hunter? A lackey?”

Nurses were beginning to creep down the halls.

Rommel slid around to Rhode’s side of the bed, “I’m a professional, and I always get my mark.”

Rommel pulled out a Bowie knife, charging at the man who was covered in plaster casts.

Rhodes threw himself onto the bed, rolling it back and rolling himself off of it onto the other side.

Pain burned through Edward’s nerves, scorching a trail to his brain. He could hardly see straight, he threw his useless gun at the assassin and hobbled to the door.

He cast an eye over his shouler, “The infamous Major Rommel.”

Rommel walked slowly around the bed, whose worn sheets hung in disarray, “Are you ready to die Mr. Rhodes?” he growled.

Rhodes stumbled across the hall, a nurse was at the edge, she wouldn’t help much even if she got there in time, he grinned, leaning against a glass case that held a fire extinguisher.

He hopped to the side, yanking open the case and frantically grabbing the extinguisher.

“That won’t do you much good Mr. Rhodes.”

The spray shot out of the extinguisher at the assassin. Rhodes aimed for the face, hoping to blind him.

The assassin threw the knife out of the icy mist, missing pitifully. Edward ran down the hall.

Timothy Rommel wiped his face clear of the extinguisher fluid as his mark escaped.

It was more than the money now.

It was a personal matter.

-

“Deutschland,” Johan muttered into the camera, “Erwacht.”

He smiled as he turned off the recorder, he had spent four hours crafting the video that he hoped to carry his message, that he hoped would incite the people of Berlin, of Germany. He had broken back into the excavation site, revealed its location to the curious viewers, explained its heritage, explained his heritage, explained his scars, and the impotence of theVolk.

His latex gloved hands slid the tapes into bulky manila envelopes, networks’ addresses were delicately printed on them.

He went out to the car, he had some mail to deliver.

[SKILORD]

I'm sorry about missing umlauts, by the way (to das German speaker) but I'm typing this up on Word and it's wearisome.

I'm sorry I'm such a lazy slob.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

nice developments SKI how long you going to be gone for