“I imagine so,” Stewart said, lying. “It’s quite… imaginative.” Now she could look closer, she was struck by sudden ostentation. The room looked tasteful, but only on first sight. Very much like Hitler himself.
“Now, I imagine that you want to ask a few questions,” Hitler said genially. “I will listen and even try to answer.”
Suddenly disgusted, Stewart asked the first question. “Why did you try to exterminate the Jews?”
“The Jews are a plague on society,” Hitler said firmly. “Their creation of Israel in the false future is proof of that. Their manipulation of finances destroys thousands of lives, in Germany and elsewhere. One day they will all be gone, and then the true Aryan race will live again.”
“Historians have said that the existence of an Aryan race has been proved a myth,” Stewart said. Hitler’s eyes glittered. “They wondered what research you conducted on the subject.”
“I thought about it for a very long time, unfurling the Jewish manipulations, to uncover the truth that they have hidden from us,” Hitler said. “The proof of Jewish plots is simple; the Jews have never been able to form a state that was strong and proud, even according to your own files Israel could never have survived without Western support.”
Stewart gave up and approached from a different angle. “You have begun destroying the Poles as well,” she said finally. “What have they done to us?”
“The Poles have served the Jews well,” Hitler said. “They conspired with the Jews and the French to keep Germany down, and much good it did them! The French didn’t even let them prepare their army in time to attempt to resist us, did they? And then the French surrendered after we kicked in the rotten door.”
Stewart stared at him. “But your forces are exterminating them,” she said. “Why?”
“Because, thanks to your people, we now know that the Poles will prove a bane for us in the future,” Hitler said. His voice, discussing horrifying details, was calm and composed. Stewart realised suddenly that Polish lives meant nothing to him; perhaps German lives were worthless to him as well. “We are handling the problem before it can ever become a problem.”
Stewart wanted to run, she wanted to hide. “Where do you see your alliance with Stalin going?” She asked desperately. “It’s not as if you can co-exist, can you?”
Hitler smiled. “For the moment, we have a common enemy,” Hitler said. “Between us, we will reshape the world in our image.” He looked up at Stewart. “Although sharing the world is not impossible,” he said. “You rule over vast lands and we would be more than willing to trade.”
Stewart couldn’t think, couldn’t decide what to say. She settled on a neutral question. “Can I remain in Berlin for the moment?”
“Is the interview over so soon?” Hitler asked mildly. “I do have a message for your people and your leaders.” Stewart adjusted the camera. “We are aware that you possess weapons of mass destruction that can do considerable damage to Germany, although they would be unable to crush the Reich. If you use such weapons against us, we will deploy our own weapons against you, weapons of a destructive power different, but no less dangerous. We have the weapons ready to deploy; we will use them if you attack us with your own weapons.”
“I’m sure that the politicians will take that into account in their calculations,” Stewart said, feeling fear running through her body. “Can I remain in Berlin?”
“Of course,” Hitler said. “I would be very interested in reading your stories of Berlin life during the war.” Stewart realised that he didn’t understand her profession; she wondered if any German did. “You may stay in Berlin as long as you wish.”
Roth snapped to attention as Hitler escorted Stewart out of his office. The young reporter seemed… flustered, a strange mix between fear and… something else.
“Thank you for bringing her,” Hitler said. He was always polite with subordinates who were beneath his political notice. “You may escort her back to her quarters.”
“Jawohl, Mein Fuhrer,” Roth barked, taking Stewart’s arm. She held it gratefully; he realised that she was trembling. “Right this way.”
Stewart said nothing as he led her along the corridors. She’d been given a room that had once belonged to an SS group leader who’d been sent to Poland, one barely decorated. He opened the door for her, she pulled him inside.
“Stay,” she said, her hands already tearing at his clothes. Before Roth could object, she undid his trousers and started work on his underclothes, before tearing away at her skirt. He wondered absently if she wanted to be taken standing up, or bent over a desk, but she pulled him into the bedroom, stripping off the rest of her clothes as she moved. Roth undid his jacket, dropping it on the floor as her body was revealed; she was even better naked than he’d felt. Roth felt his gaze run over her body and he smiled; this was going to be good.
“Take me,” she breathed. He sensed her desperation, and her mounting excitement, and could resist no longer. Pushing her down on the bed, he pressed his way into her with desperate energy. She moaned as he entered her, pulling him to her.
Roth wasn’t a virgin, he’d used SS whorehouses and he’d even been engaged for a while, but Stewart tore his breath away. She really was very good.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Iranian Nemesis
The Kremlin
Moscow, Russia
17th September 1940
Stalin was in a good mood when Molotov entered, waving the Foreign Minister to a seat and passing him a fine cigar. Molotov tensed; whatever Stalin wanted was going to be bad, he was certain of it. A wave of Stalin’s hand indicated a steaming samovar of tea, brewed just the way that the dictator liked it. Molotov was not reassured.
“The advance into Finland progresses well,” Stalin said. Molotov nodded; information was power in the Soviet Union, particularly if you got it first. “Comrade General Koniev reports literally blasting the Finnish Mannerhiem Line out of the ground.”
Molotov allowed himself a smile, showing his approval. For once, it wasn’t faked; the Red Army had learnt a great deal from the Winter War. Being humbled had taught the army a great deal – and the files from the future had suggested the most competent commanders. The NKVD had been kept busy as loyal, but incompetent commanders had been placed in positions where their incompetence would do little harm.
“Indeed, we should be in Helsinki within a week, and the Finns are already preparing their underground resistance,” Stalin continued. “Of course, we shall serve them as we served the Poles and the Tatars, how will they live without their food and drink?”
“Comrade, how will the fascists react?” Molotov asked, with real concern. In the original future, Finland would have joined the fascists in an attack on Russia, something that the new attack was designed to prevent. “They have vital interests in Sweden, and this will take our forces close to them.”
“We will, of course, recognise their pre-eminent position in the region,” Stalin said smoothly. “After all, we have no real interest in the region, apart from a defensive barrier. They can have Sweden if they want it; we have no interests there.”
Molotov relaxed slightly. “The Swedes will probably end up playing us off against the Germans,” he said.
Stalin shrugged. “It’s a matter of small concern,” he said. “Now; Comrade Porpov informs me that we will have the military build-up well underway in a month, including the new T-34 tank and the fleet of military trucks. For the moment, Operation Peter will have to proceed with what we have on hand, but the Persians have so little with which to fight us.”