"Today we received the news that Adolf Hitler has announced the annexation of Czechoslovakia. Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain has condemned this act sharply, calling it a betrayal of peace."
A radio crackled inside a British home.
"Clementine, could you turn that off?" a man said, his face hidden behind a thick newspaper. The irritation in his voice was unmistakable.
"How surprising," he muttered, reaching for the pipe resting on the table. He turned the page of his newspaper. The headline read: Peace of Our Time? Not for Hitler.
The man lowered the paper with a sigh and slowly stood, shaking his head.
"French foreign minister…" the radio continued, before the sound was abruptly cut off by a firm press of a hand.
"Winston? What was it?" a woman asked, now standing in the doorway.
"Nothing, dear," he replied, sitting down again and lifting the newspaper. He turned another page and paused.
A large photograph filled the page. It showed a German tank advancing, dark smoke billowing from its engine.
In that moment, the image seemed to come alive. Not in Winston Churchill's kitchen, but thousands of kilometers away, in a forest somewhere in Czechoslovakia.
The roar of the tank echoed through the lonely woodland. Its tracks churned through the mud with considerable speed.
Atop the tank sat a Wehrmacht Oberstleutnant, binoculars raised to his eyes. He lowered them, letting them hang from his neck.
With a brief hand gesture, the column pressed on, increasing its pace.
The cold wind bit against the man's cheeks.
In Paris, at the headquarters of the General Staff, a door flew open. A man hurried inside, closing it behind him with urgency. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold outside air.
"The Germans did what?" he demanded in French, his tone heavy with anger.
"Mr. President, we have only just received the intelligence ourselves," a general replied, stroking his mustache.
"How has Britain reacted?" another older man asked.
"They have condemned it, but of course they refuse to act," Albert Lebrun said, sitting down heavily.
The president turned toward the window and sighed.
Paul, too, was looking out of a window. He wondered how Hasso was faring at that very moment. He himself had not gone to Czechoslovakia. He knew there was nothing to gain there, not in this political invasion. Only real war could accelerate the climb. For now, the ladder barely existed.
His car rolled into the driveway of a familiar mansion.
"Good day," Paul said, shaking the hand of the Rheinmetall CEO. This time, however, he was not alone.
"Good day," Paul repeated, shaking another hand, then another. Dozens of men, clad in expensive-looking suits, had gathered on this fateful afternoon. Unbothered by the events unfolding across Europe, or perhaps sheltered by their distance from them, they met quietly.
"Herr Jaeger, the recent economic reforms, if one can even call them that, are unacceptable, to say the least. This state control is suffocating," one of them said, clasping his hands together.
"I understand, Herr Goldmann," Paul replied calmly. "I, too, have tried to persuade the Führer to grant you more freedom. But he was quite… persistent."
He sounded as genuine as possible.
Paul had positioned himself as a kind of lobbyist for the German economy, at least on the surface, claiming to represent their interests. The truth, however, was far simpler.
There had been no such conversation with Hitler at all.
Paul was playing the angel while depicting Hitler as the Devil, and it was working. For his plans, Paul needed their funds, so he was playing the long game.
"This is utterly disgraceful. What does the Führer expect of us? To just sit still?" one man asked, his fist hitting the table, the expensive cutlery shaking.
"And when the war happens, he plans to nationalize all your companies," Paul added, fueling their rage.
"What?!" Another man jumped up, the hair he had left bouncing wildly as he cursed. "We can't let that happen."
"But what would you do?" the Rheinmetall CEO asked, clasping his hands, remaining sane.
"We would need to object…"
Paul sat there, leaning back, watching the discussion silently. That's when he suddenly noticed someone else completely disconnected from the discussion, staring at him.
It was Emil Merwin, the Rheinmetall CEO, his eyes looking deeply at Paul. The two men shared a silent understanding and stood up slowly, leaving the heated discussion without even being noticed.
"Well played," Merwin said.
Paul tilted his head, playing confusion.
"Oh, please. I'm not like those fools," Merwin said, almost spitting as he glanced back at the room. "You will buy even more of their shares, promising to save them from nationalization by Hitler. In the end, they get nationalized by you."
Paul watched the man before him for a moment, thinking about what to answer.
"You are indeed smarter than the rest, Herr Merwin, but you are in the same predicament, so you have no reason to talk like that at all," Paul said sharply.
"Indeed, I am, but I also still retain some common sense, and that means I can choose whose feet I will kiss. Which giant will steer me," he said, squinting his eyes. "Your plans are in direct opposition to Hitler and, in the end, to Germany, Herr Jaeger. If that is how you intend to enrich yourself and weaken Germany, then you will receive not my full support, but instead my full opposition."
"Against Germany?" Paul asked, laughing. "Was it not me who gave the blueprints, technologies that have accelerated Germany's arms industry by years? Blueprints I have more of. Was that to weaken Germany, Herr Merwin? No. Did it weaken Germany?" Paul asked, stopping.
"No…" Merwin began, getting interrupted.
"Exactly. It strengthened Germany, and that is what I intend to do," Paul said, leaning against the railing of the veranda.
"Strengthening Germany, yet opposing Hitler, are you talking about a coup?" Merwin asked, his eyes wide.
Paul turned around, his eyes bearing something dangerous.
"What if I am?"
"A lone Oberst? Although I admit you have economic influence in Germany, you are nothing but an ant that has received a little bit of fame," Merwin said, shaking his head.
"Quite harsh words. Then tell me, what was I to you three years ago? I was an Oberstleutnant back then, commanding a lowly squad of ten men. Look where fate, no, where I brought myself, in only three years. Where will I be in another two, perhaps one year, Herr Merwin? I can answer that for you," Paul said, stepping closer. "Far out of your reach," he whispered.
Merwin looked at the young man before him with wide eyes.
"Never, never…" He suddenly began laughing loudly. "Never have I met someone as preposterous as you, but also so convincing. Can you guarantee my position?"
"So it's all about personal gain," Paul said, smiling, before nodding.
"To hell with it. I will support you," Merwin said, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it himself.
"What I lack is not economic strength," Paul began.
"What is it?" Merwin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Political strength. That is what I need from you. You, like all the others, are also members of the NSDAP in the Reichstag."
"The Reichstag? You want the Reichstag? But for what? We both know it is only an empty instrument of Hitler's power…" Mervin said, the creases on his forehead visible.
"You will understand when the time comes," Paul said.
"But right now I need to make a deal," he began. "I will provide you with increased funds, and you will increase production even more. With the production targets being met earlier than anticipated…" Paul paused, tilting his head. "Who knows what Hitler will do…"
The man looked at Paul with wide eyes.
"You are sure there will be a war, aren't you?" Mervin asked.
"You aren't? Why else did the armaments orders skyrocket so much in recent years? There will be one…" He answered.
"And you intended to make it happen earlier," Mervin finished Paul's sentence, muttering like a ghost.
Paul did not answer.
War is chaos, and chaos is a ladder. One I intended to climb to the top, one step at the time. Once I reach the summit, everything will be easier, Paul thought, walking back toward the house, leaving a baffled old man behind.
Then suddenly he stopped.
"By the way, I have a gift for you."Paul said, stopping and pulling out a piece of paper out of his breast pocket...
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