Kesselring shook his head. “I had hoped to spare you this,” he said grimly. He picked up a folder and passed it over. “I’m sorry about this.”
“I bet you are,” Roth muttered, opening the folder. He read the preliminary notes quickly, and swore. “This can’t be real…”
“It is all that remains of the smallpox weapon project,” Kesselring said. “Notice what happened to give the project its sudden boost.”
Roth read the report. It was cold and clinical, referring only to the ‘subject,’ until the final paragraph. It made grim reading; he wanted to vomit. He’d done terrible things for Himmler, including using Jewish prisoners to clear up after the first nuclear strike, and this was worse.
Subject Stewart was interrogated several times for information on the use of smallpox in 2015. Her resilience, weakened by starvation, involuntary blood donations and repeated rape, was low; she gave what information she had freely. Many common viruses in our time were apparently wiped out or reduced to almost nothing in the future, therefore suggesting that any deployment into the 2019 Britain would be disastrously lethal for the citizens.
Subject Stewart seems to possess no skills or experience that will be useful for the advanced weapons project. It is therefore recommend that she be terminated as soon as sufficient stocks of her blood have been built up.
“I’m sorry about that,” Kesselring said. Roth realised grimly that he was sincere. “As far as we know, she was killed in the nuclear blast that destroyed the smallpox research laboratory.”
Roth didn’t hear him, clutching the report until his hands started to bleed from paper cuts. He dabbed at them with his handkerchief, feeling pure pain flowing through his body. A single thought was running through his mind; she’s dead, Himmler killed her…
“That’s what Hitler’s – and then Himmler’s – regime meant,” Kesselring said coldly. His sympathy had vanished. “That’s the fate he had in store for her all along.” He placed a hand on Roth’s shoulder. “He was willing to court the destruction of our nation in order to use her blood to create such horrible weapons.”
Roth closed his eyes in pain. “What do you want me to do?”
“End the war,” Kesselring said. Roth almost laughed through the pain in his heart. “Help us to circumvent the SS’s lock on what remains of the communications network.”
Roth spoke grimly, feeling his pain congeal into rage. “It can’t be done,” he said. “The SS controls all of the communication nodes. How did it ever come to this?”
Kesselring shook him. “We need help,” he snapped. “Germany needs you to end this war.”
Roth looked up at him. “But… there’s only one way to do that,” he said. “I’ll have to kill the Fuhrer.”
“I’m afraid so,” Kesselring said. “You’re one of the few people trusted with a weapon in his presence.” He held up a hand. “First, however, we have to organise a transfer of power, and we don’t have much time at all.”
Professor Horton studied the map with a mixture of feelings. Awe; the attack had been on a scale that dwarfed even Iraqi Freedom. Concern; the supply lines were far from perfect. Fear; the Germans might just dispose of him before the British Army could take Berlin.
Himmler paced from side to side, his famous stillness broken at last. “Well, Herr Professor,” he snapped finally. “What do you make of it?”
“They’re trying to march to Berlin,” Horton said, in the certain knowledge that German strategists would have made the same deduction. It wasn’t difficult; what else could they be doing?
“Yes, but when?” Himmler demanded. “When will they have the ability to break out of their positions and lance their way over the fatherland?”
“I honestly have no idea,” Horton said. Himmler scared was almost as bad as Himmler angry. He spoke softly. “They won’t take long,” he admitted. “They’ll have fixed most of their logistics by now.”
Himmler looked up at him. “So, what happens to the Reich now?”
Horton shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “What manner of agreement have they signed with Japan?”
“I have no idea,” Himmler said. “Ambassador Takji was most unhelpful; they have betrayed us completely!”
Horton sighed. He wished that there had been more information on what had happened in Japan; all they knew was that there had been some kind of coup. “They didn’t have a choice,” he said finally, understanding suddenly. Himmler was scared for his own personal survival.
“They could have died,” Himmler protested. “Everyone fails me; the Wehrmacht, the Luftwaffe, the Kriegsmarine… they all failed me!” He paced grimly. “I will leave Germany,” he said finally. “They will fight to the death to cover my departure.”
Horton had expected it – Himmler had attempted to flee in the original timeline as well – but it was still a shock. He knew that there were no words he could use; Himmler was completely self-centred. Thousands – perhaps millions – of Germans would die in the next month, just to buy Himmler a chance at escaping the Reich.
Ten Downing Street
London, United Kingdom
3rd June 1942
Hanover allowed himself a sigh of relief as the final significant German position in the Netherlands, dug deep into Amsterdam, was destroyed. Caught between a very hostile population and an invading army, afraid of failure – and of losing his wife who was in the hands of the SS – the commander of the force had fought bitterly, if futility. Finally, a concentrated bombing raid had shattered his defences, and the Royal Marines had mopped up the handful of survivors.
“We hold most of the Netherlands,” General Cunningham said. He wasn’t just briefing Hanover himself, but also President Truman through the video link. “While there are doubtless a few Germans left around, they no longer pose a threat. Our forward positions, poking our way towards the Ems, have been reinforced, although we have called off future offensives until we have managed to reinforce.”
Hanover nodded. “How long until the forces in place are sufficient for further advancement?” He asked. “I have a nasty feeling that Himmler has more tricks up his sleeve.”
Cunningham nodded. The hail of rockets against Britain – and proto-ICBMs from Russia against America – continued without a pause. The need to ensure that none of the missiles carried something worse than high explosive was wasting resources; noticing that most of the missiles were exploding in flight wasn’t reassuring anyone.
“We have moved ten divisions, mainly infantry with one armoured division, over now,” Cunningham said. “We’ve used the armoured division and four of the infantry units to secure our borders, and the remaining infantry to finish destroying German holdouts. In the next few days, we hope to have the remainder of the force brought over, now that we have a port working and taking ships.”
President Truman coughed. “How are the locals taking the invasion?”
Cunningham smiled. “They’re very glad to see us,” he said. “They killed a lot of particularly unpleasant Germans themselves before the advancing columns reached the cities. The remains of the civil administration have placed themselves at our disposal, so we won’t have to worry about their loyalties. Unfortunately, we do have to worry about feeding them; the Germans tore up their food supplies pretty bad and they were on short rations anyway.”
Armin Prushank nodded. “General, we can begin shipping over supplies at once,” he said.