Chapter Nineteen

The first week of January 1964 had passed almost unnoticed in Berlin. Like most of Germany the capital of that country was mostly concentrating on what was happening in the Middle East and Kelso couldn't help but be amused by the sight of the Germans running around like headless chickens. He knew that like any Government at times like this their leaders were at least internally consistent in their actions but the population...

Kelso only had to look at the newspaper headlines to see that the whole country was unable or unwilling to decide what to do. In Australia the right-wing press would demand heads, the left-wing press would demand that diplomacy be tried before the bombers flew and the rest of the country would be incredibly angry.

To the Australians in particular and the Commonwealth as a whole the status of Embassies and Diplomats was sacred. He was sure that the Poms would react with anger eventually.

The Germans on the other hand...

Some were demanding that Germany follow and support the British in whatever they did, some demanded that the German Government denounce British Neo-Imperialism and everything in-between, though the latter extremist group was luckily a very small minority.

He shrugged even though he was alone in the room. Whatever happened, the Germans would be faced with the reality that the world extended beyond their borders and that they would have to deal with the fact that they were still more than a fifth-rate South-American Banana Republic that had no international standing whatever and could thus ignore what was going on around them.

The door to the room in the precinct flew open and slammed against the wall, nearly tearing itself off the hinges. In came Wachmann with a huge grin on his face.

“Well, at least one good thing is coming out of this bollocking in the desert!” he exclaimed and as he stepped aside he could see two constables dragging a man with a bruised face, bleeding lips and dressed in a once smart suit.

“This particular gentleman did what?”

“This particular character was standing in front of the American consulate and was suggesting it be burned to the ground as the Yanks are of course definitely in cahoots with the Arabs.”

Kelso winced. That was something the Germans or any other nation could do without, but hot-headed idiots were a fact of life as much as, say, India dominating the Imperial Cricket League.

One did not burn down Embassies. Period.

“So why is he here and not with the chaps working that case?”

“Because when they searched him,” Wachmann said and stepped aside so that the constables could manhandle the suspect into the room and through a door into the adjoining interrogation room,

“Because when they searched him not only did they find materials with certain illegal insignia on them in his pockets but also a scrap of paper with the name of our most recent arrest from a few days ago written on it.”

“Let's be about it then, Wachmann.” Kelso said and waited for the German to lead the way into the interrogation room.

“You know what, Kelso?” Wachmann said as he was on the verge of opening the door. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Of course.” Kelso replied.

“Let's let him steam for an hour. While we do that could you hop back to your quarters and change into something more..ehm..representative as a member of her Majesty's Royal Australian Military Police?”

“Whatever for?”

“Well,” Wachmann said with a impish grin on his face, “that sort of scum only talks when they are either pissed up to their gills or so angry they damn near explode, and if he really has something to do with those murders then an Aussie like you and a German like me coming for him at the same time will make him go up faster than a moon rocket.”

Kelso smiled and only nodded before he left.

~**---**~

Four hours and sixteen minutes later the door to the interrogation room opened and the man's inner bile threatened to flow over as he saw not only a policeman adhering to the Bonn traitor Government but also a man in the full No.2 Pattern Uniform, complete with the black-blue-silver shoulder patch of the Allied Berlin Brigade on one side and the Australian flag on the other.

“Where is my lawyer?” he asked first, but instantly realized that he had made a mistake, something that was clearly shown in the looks of contempt shown on the faces of the men on the other side of the table.

“So,” the policeman said, “now you, following a group of dimwits openly encouraging the overthrow of the Democratic Basic Order[1] now suddenly wants to use it's organs. Tut tut tut. So anyway, we had to consult with Brigadier Stanton and we are here now.”

Wachmann glanced at Kelso and the Australian saw that Wachmann was convinced that he had the chap in the chair, almost at least.

Kelso spoke good but heavily accented German, which he rarely used mainly because quite a few Germans could barely stand his accent. Today however it was an asset and not a liability.

“So, this may surprise you but we aren't here about you setting fire to the Yank Consulate. We are here because of this.”

Kelso shoved over the piece of paper with the name written on it.

“Now,” Wachmann took over, “you and the other scumbags of your political persuasion won't rat out one of their own, but you see, the Berlin Brigades are being somewhat unnerved at what your adherents have been doing.”

Brigadier Stanton, the Englishman who was the senior Allied Officer in Berlin as of yesterday was not unnerved, merely annoyed that it had taken so long to get anywhere, yet he still trusted the local police, after all it had been at least a decade since the Brigade had been a true occupation force.

Wachmann however knew that the Neo-Nazis would be making their own facts, and the suspect didn't disappoint.

“YOU!” he yelled and sprang to his feet.

“You betrayed Germany! And dear god I hope that he kills a lot more of you than he has since he left...”

The suspect

“So you do know who it is.”

“I won't tell his name to a traitor!” the suspect spat, but Wachmann smiled thinly. Now to have a bit of a prod....

“I can only say that if you don't talk to me I will have no choice but to hand you over to him.” he said, pointing at Kelso while he did so. He saw how the suspect began to go red in the face.

“After all, the Allies have the last say and....

The suspect stood and had leapt over the table almost before Wachmann and Kelso registered that he was no longer seated. He punched at Kelso, but the MP was able to deflect the punch and Wachmann who had half-expected it stepped forward, grabbed the suspect by the shoulders, half-turned and kneed him in a very sensitive spot.

When the man doubled over on the floor in pain in fear of never having children Wachmann stepped closer and said: “You talking now?”

He did. And outside the room Wachmann's superior decided he had heard nothing at all. Sometimes doing so was good for the service and the community. And anyway, the football league was about to start up again, with his beloved Herta BSC about to give those bloody Bavarians the thumping they so richly deserved.[2]

What he did see and hear was that after a few minutes Wachmann and Kelso came walking out of the room with a look of purpose on their faces.

He knew that soon someone would part with his liberty and a few of his teeth or maybe more...

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Comments, questions, rotten Tomatoes?

[1]Demokratische Grundordnung, also known as one of the guiding principles for the Federal Republic. When the Communist Party was banned one of the reasons stated (and that have to be stated to ban any form of political association) is that one of their goals was it's overthrow. This is also cited as a reason why our domestic security organs are watching groups like Scientology.

[2] It's as if the Glasgow Rangers were to thump Manchester United.