Bismarck Survivor

by AusfPanzerkampf

Petty Officer Karl Essyn has died abord the Bismarck. He is reincarnated in a world similar to his own - though with one very major change. Now as the commander of a fleet of literal ship girls, Karl must weave his way through many difficulties and hardships to secure his comrade's dying wish - as well as to fulfill a few of his own.

8. Chapter 6 - Negligence or Otherwise

Chapter 6 - Negligence or Otherwise.

Rudolf yelped awake as a loud banging came from his front door in the other room. The pilot had been getting all of the rest he could get after the crash, and it had been around two weeks since then.

He shakily stepped out of the bed he was in. Located in a small room, it was a simple one person bed with a white pillow and fairly fluffy similarly colored blanket to go along with it. Rudolf stumbled onto the nightstand to the right of the bed and clicked a switch on the lamp which rested on it,

The lamp illuminated the surrounding area sufficiently for view. There was a window on the left wall which was covered by a set of closed blinds with very murky light from the now rising sun leaking in through small crevices through the blinds. Behind the bed was a large painting of Heinrich Himmler and alongside the lamp rested a few medical papers on the nightstand. There was also a door on the right wall from which the banging had come from. The door led into the living room and kitchen area, and through there one could exit.

Annoyed, he opened the door and stepped into the main living space. It was a simple little area, with a beige carpet on the floor which was cut off where the kitchen began. There was a CRT TV against the wall with a couch adjacent to it on the other wall, with a coffee table in between the two. There were various papers and books strewn about, and there was another painting on the wall. This time of the former Fuhrer.

The kitchen connected into the living room through a gap in the wall. There was no door dividing the two and it led directly into a well lit room with tiled floors. There was a counter, sink, fridge, gas-lit oven, dishwasher, and a toaster. Alongside all of the various counters and such, of course.

In all, the apartment was quite small, maybe about 700 square foot in total size. Not cramped, but not particularly large either.

Another bang came from the front door which connected into the living room on the right wall.

"I'm coming!" Rudolf called out to sooth whoever was in such an urgent mood on the other side of the door. He turned the dead bolt lock of the door and opened it up quickly.

He wasn't in the most presentable of attires. The 5' 11'' male was wearing a white t-shirt and black sweatpants. Bags were visible under his dark blue eyes due to the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before. There were various bandages around his arms, and a noticeable area of stitches on his forehead down to his eyebrow. Not only that, but his knee was in a brace which gave him a limp.

And in front of him stood a rather tall gentleman in SS uniform. He was 6' 2'' and wearing a Gestapo all-black uniform, a very noticeable red armband around his left bicep. The man had brown eyes and his hair wasn't visible under his cap. He was flanked by two soldiers in Feldgendarmerie uniform, who were both holding MP-52s

"Erm... any you are...?" Rudolf asked the Gestapo officer.

"Scharführer Walter Chemnitz of the Military Police forces. We're here to arrest you under suspicion of attempted assassination of Karl Essyn. Please, make this easy and don't resist."

Rudolf was dumbfounded by the last sentence. He took a few steps back as the two Feldgendarmeries rushed to either side of him and grabbed his forearms. His hands were put behind his back and he heard handcuffs click behind him and his movement was suddenly restricted.

"What the hell?! I-!"

Before he knew it, the former pilot was being rushed out of the room by the soldiers. He was forced to hang his head as the few civilians in the hallway of the apartment complex stared at the man, wondering what the hell he had done.

Or even if he had really done it.

Karl felt a tap on his left shoulder while he was pouring coffee at a designated coffee maker in the canteen. He put his half-filled mug down and turned towards whoever had poked him, two men in military attire standing behind him. They were both taller than him - though Karl was generally short - wearing full Gestapo uniform. Both of their caps were off and tucked under their right arms, however.

Upon Karl turning around, both men gave him the salute. Their heels clicked and their arms raised forward at an angle, hands straightened. Karl returned the salute in the same manner before all of three went at ease.

"And you two are?" Asked Karl as he went back to filling his mug.

The man to his left spoke up.

"We are with the Military Police of the Gestapo, working with the Kriegsmarine. I am Herr Oskar Knispel, Oberscharführer."

Then, the man to the right. "Herr Erich Lindau, Scharführer."

Karl took a sip of his coffee. "What does the Military Police need with me? Is this about the crash?"

"Yes, Herr Essyn." Oskar answered. "We will not beat-around-the-bush with you. Said simply, your pilot Rudolf Ruhrig is suspected to have intentionally caused the crash to end your life in what we are investigating as an assassination plot. Some private investigators have brought such information to our light, fortunately, and we wanted to ask you some series of questions pertaining to the matter."

Karl was taken aback a bit, putting his hand on his chest somewhat dramatically. "Rudolf...? Seriously? Why?"

Karl wasn't sure what to say at first. He didn't believe Rudolf would be the kind of person to do such a thing. After all, he was the one who retrieved his watch and practically saved his life. But, he hadn't known the man for very long, and perhaps the Gestapo were correct in their statements. So, he decided to let them speak.

"We are not sure why." Erich said. "His motives are unknown currently, though we believe it might have something to do with..."

Karl gave an odd look as Erich took a step closer. He whispered into his ear. "...Siren influence."

"Excuse me?" Karl's eyes narrowed as Erich stepped away. "What do you mean - wait, wait. Actually. Just, start at the beginning. Tell me everything."

"It will take a bit." Erich warned.

"I have time. Will I need a seat?"

Erich, Oskar, and Karl sat around a circular table near where they originally met, the counter where the coffee machine was barely 30 feet away. Karl was eating a donut because he eats a lot and Erich had helped himself to a bottle of water.

"We had originally started the investigation under suspicion of job negligence, which would have caused the crash. Truth be told, due to the nearby storm, Rudolf should not have taken off in the first place as per policy. However, that's not the problem. Our problem initially was the fact that he had set off into the ocean to go around it, and not over land." Oskar explained.

"How is that a problem?" Karl questioned.

"Well, of course, Sirens are only active over the oceans and seas. Henceforth, most planes take as many over-land routes as possible, only going over the sea when absolutely required."

Karl nodded, obviously a bit tired which showed itself now that the conversation was going. It was a few minutes before 7 AM and he hadn't fully woken up yet, just now having his coffee. "But- Rudolf told me that there was a storm he had to go around. He said going around it over the ocean would have been faster."

"Well, -"

Suddenly, a female voice was heard coming from the side of the men, and everyone looked towards it.

In came a groggy looking Bismarck, wearing half of her uniform. Below the waist everything was in order, with her black skirt and thigh highs and all that. However, above the waist was literally just a white long-sleeved undershirt with a small coffee stain on the collar.

See, it was the second saturday of the month. Also known as Bismarck's Day Off. Hence, she couldn't be bothered to actually get her uniform on proper. She obviously tried, but gave up halfway through doing so. If you asked Karl, he didn't really mind such an attire, mainly because of the fact the shirt did quite a bit to make an exposé of her well-endowed chest.

As well as that, her blonde hair was scruffed up down her back, with a few locks going over her shoulders. Small strands of said hair stuck out like rusted nails from an old plank of wood, though were hardly noticeable.

She approached the men, looking at Karl specifically, then to Erich after. "Whats going on?" She inquired to the group.

"These Gestapo men believe Rudolf intentionally crashed my plane after my visit to Japan." Karl said, swiftly and in a somewhat disbelieving tone.

Bismarck's eyes widened a bit and she turned her attention over fully to the two Gestapo officers. Oskar nodded and Erich was the one to speak.

"Exactly that. We have good reason to believe so as well."

Bismarck, curious now, pulled up a chair (despite there being one already at the table available) and sat down with the men next to Karl. She crossed her legs and leaned into the table a bit to listen.

Now with a group totalling four, and after Oskar and Erich introduced themselves to Bismarck with a salute and a handshake, the officers continued making their case.

"Anyhow." Oskar began. "Negligence, as said, was our original concern. However, upon the inclusion of a private investigative group, new evidence pointing towards the potential for an attempted assassination is substantial enough for his arrest and further questioning."

Karl sighed and took a sip from his coffee mug. Bismarck just sat and listened intently.

Karl, after his sip, spoke up. "When did you arrest him?"

"Three hours ago, just about." Oskar said, looking over to the clock. "Around 4."

"What a wake up call." Bismarck commented, causing a bit of a chuckle to come from Erich.

"We weren't the ones to do the arrest." He said. "That was another Gestapo squad, one of our many arrest-orientated forces. Me and Oskar are here just to ask questions."

"Will you ask others around the base?" Bismarck inquired.

"Those who were connected to Rudolf, yes. That being said -" Erich pulled out a notepad from his pocket and opened it, flipping to a page. "- He was assigned to the Graf Zeppelin, no?"

"Mhm." Both Karl and Bismarck sounded. Erich nodded and pulled out a pen, scribbling something onto the paper.

Bismarck grew a tad bit worried. Graf Zeppelin was a personal friend of hers and the fact the Gestapo agents were asking about her gave her a small anxiety that she could get caught up in this. As such, she spoke up yet again.

"Will Graf Zeppelin be pulled into the investigation?" She said in her familiar calm voice.

"Seeing as Rudolf served aboard her, most certainly. However, I doubt anything like charges or judicial action will be brought against her."

Bismarck felt a bit of weight lifted off of her chest, though she still had some on there. Whether that was a small amount of fret for her comrade or her breasts, she wasn't too sure.

"I must ask -" Karl blurted out, catching the attention of Oskar and Erich. "What is this investigative platform you called in?"

"Oh. Griffin-und-Kruyger? I believe that's what they're called." Erich answered.

"Who are they?" Asked Karl, and Bismarck's eyes narrowed a bit with a small hint of what could be guessed was suspicion - though no one at the table noticed.

"A military assistance group of the sorts. They manufacture goods for the Wehrmacht, provide oils for the Luftwaffe, general assistance to us in the Gestapo, they have a political alliance with the SS. The whole nine-yards of a military for-profit company." Oskar told the two.

"So, like Porsche or Krupp?" Questioned Karl.

"Just about, yes."

"Mm." Bismarck leaned back in her chair a bit before standing. "I'm going to go get some coffee myself, continue without me."

Karl nodded in acknowledgement, Oskar and Erich adding a small respectful smile to their own. Bismarck returned in kind and walked over to the coffee machine with obvious intent.

Karl looked back to the men. "This group, Griffin-Whatever-The-Hell... what exactly did they uncover?"

Erich began. "Well, I'm sure you know that Rudolf was formally in the Luftwaffe."

"Yes, of course. He told me, actually."

"Mhm. Well, he was stationed off the coast of France shortly after the initial invasion. His primary job was to provide escorts to our bombers as well as defending our ports against naval and air attacks. All-and-all, standard stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"But there's a twist, I assume?"

Erich nodded. "There always is. See, in February 1940, Rudolf was shot down over the English Channel by British anti-aircraft fire during a rather botched attack on shipping lines. He crashed into the ocean, and was never recovered."

"Uhm..." Karl's eyes narrowed a bit in confusion. "He died?"

"Well, apparently not. Instead, Rudolf went off the books. Best part, during that time, Rudolf wasn't Rudolf."

"Eh?!" Karl was even more confused. "Stop storytelling, just say what happened."

"Alright, Alright." Erich put a hand down to defuse Karl. "Rudolf Ruhrig is the new name of Martin Gotwen. The pilot who was shot down."

"Wait- wait - wait. So, Rudolf, Martin, whatever. He goes down over the Atlantic and is probably captured by the British. Simply put he is declared dead but actually goes on the run or something? Or ends up collaborating with the Brits - but, for what reason?" Karl tried to explain, mainly to himself.

"We believe Rudolf-slash-Martin was either captured by the British and sent back later on into Germany as some sort of spy, or was able to survive the crash and defected from the Reich, only to later come back. We've deemed it unlikely the British would care to assassinate you, so it only leaves the possibility of some other group radicalizing him, whether after a capture or after he fled. Nonetheless, Rudolf-slash-Martin returned to Germany at some unknown time at least two years ago under a different name and general alias, joined with the Kriegsmarine, and became a pilot on the Graf Zeppelin. There is almost a decade's worth of an information gap, but this alone is enough to prosecute him."

"Jesus Christ." Both Karl and the by-that-point formally silent Bismarck said in unison. Had Rudolf lied to Karl about him being shot down over France in the late 40s? Wait - if that was the case, how did Rudolf know Karl was from another world? Was Rudolf telling the truth from before and this is all some massive misunderstanding?

No, no. The Gestapo were clean in their investigations and Karl knew that. This wasn't a misunderstanding. Something along the line was raising massive red flags. Karl himself was different from the 'real' Karl in this world, having replaced him with barely a week's worth of a gap between the first Karl's 'disappearance' and the current Karl arriving. Was Rudolf in a similar situation?

Karl wasn't about to bring up the whole 'I'm from another world, sent here to fulfill my comrade's dying wish' thing. He didn't want to be taken to a mental institution, after all. Instead he sat back in his seat and took a steady sip from his coffee to recuperate himself.

"So, did Rudolf do it?" Asked Karl. "Is the Gestapo confident in his guilt?"

Oskar stroked his chin. "At the very least, Rudolf can be charged with potentially lethal negligence during military duty, resulting in serious injury of a High Command Officer. That's a big sentence, carrying almost 30 years hard labor. Fact of the matter is, Rudolf should have waited for the storm to pass before to take the overland route instead, and not just go around the storm on the shorter side. Sirens like storms and reside around them. It's a common fact, Rudolf would have no excuse to not know that. He either was ignorant of that or intentionally risked his and your life to kill you. His disappearance as well is quite suspicious. People don't just vanish for 10 years and reappear under a false name for no reason."

"Well, Negligence or otherwise, Rudolf screwed up, and is no-doubt being imprisoned." Erich said in a matter-of-fact tone to the group. Karl sighed and nodded in understanding, and Bismarck stayed quiet.

"Now, Bismarck, Karl." Oskar's voice once again came up. "I would like to request permission to question around the base about Rudolf. It's really just formality with these kinds of cases, because assassination plots are a very troublesome thing and must be dealt with at the fullest extent."

Bismarck took a second to think. "...Will any of the girls be prosecuted or anything of the sort?"

"Assuming you're referring to Graf Zeppelin, unlikely. Graf Zeppelin has already been cleared beforehand, Rudolf was just one of many pilots who used her flight deck. Unless someone straight-up admits to helping Rudolf out with an assassination plot or something like that, we don't have any basis to arrest any of the ship girls. So, fret not."

Bismarck nodded.

"You, Karl?" Asked Oskar.

"Hm. Sure, but please try not to disturb them too much."

"Very well."

The two Gestapo men got up and nodded to the pair who returned in-kind with their own nods. They said their goodbyes and various formalities, and they left the canteen to begin further questioning.

Bismarck let out a sigh as Karl finished his coffee. He looked over to the female and pinched his nose.

"This is so out-of-hand." He groaned out. "The paperwork... augh."

"Court cases are the worst." Bismarck vented. "But, do you believe he did it?"

Karl sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll see if I can visit him or something, ask him about it. I don't feel like he did it, but the evidence I guess says otherwise."

"Will you try and defend him in court?"

"I'll put my two-cents out there, I suppose."

"Mm." Bismarck stood, smiling, and patted Karl on the shoulder, earning something akin to a purr from the now-stressing commander.

"Hhr~..."

Of course, Karl did it unintentionally and Bismarck opted to not speak of the odd noise which admitted from his lips.

"Excuse me, miss." Oskar walked over to the right flank of a 5' 10'' female with short beige colored hair with red streaks down a few certain locks of it. She turned over with a tilt in her head, her arms crossing under her chest.

"What is it?" She asked, her eyes narrowing a bit as she looked over the taller man a few times.

"Roon, is it?" Oskar asked. Roon nodded

"Yes, yes, the one and only."

"Well, I'm Scharführer Erich Lindau of the Gestapo. We have a few questions to ask concerning your Kommandant's recent crash."

"Huh?" Roon's eyes seemed to slightly light up at the mention of the word 'Kommandant'. "What about Herr Kommandant? Is it his health? Has there been complications?! Is he dead-"

"Ma'am, no - no. Herr Karl is just fine. It concerns the means of the crash and the pilot of the plane, who's name is Rudolf Kapsee."

"Oh? Rudolf?" Roon knew the name somewhat, having hearing in passing sometime after the crash. She held a slight disdain for the man, as he was the one responsible for Karl's safety. Obviously, he had failed, so he was deemed unworthy of life in her eyes. "What do you need to know?"

"Well, nothing in particular that might concern you specifically. Just general questions."

"Ah. Well, what's the problem with him anyhow?"

"Just about to get to that." Oskar took out a pen and notepad to take, well, notes. 'We have reason to believe Rudolf intentionally crashed the plane to kill Karl in an assassination plot."

"Wha-?!" Roon's eyes went wide and she placed a hand on her mouth. "He tried to kill Der Kommandant?!"

"It's not confirmed, but all directions point to it, yes."

Roon's fists began to ball up and she released her arms from under her chest, now by her side. "What do you need to ask...?"

Oskar felt a shiver go down his spine. "Uhm. Well, we simply wanted to ask you three basic questions. Did you know Rudolf at all before or after the crash?"

"No." Roon answered. "Nothing beyond his name."

"Has any suspicious figures been lurking around the base?"

"Not from what I could tell, no."

"Has anyone suddenly left or joined the base or have replaced Rudolf in some capacity?"

"No, I do not believe so."

Oskar honestly no longer wanted to be around Roon anymore. Something about her put the man on edge. He took the notes required and decided not to ask any further questions. Leaving with a formal nod, Roon excused the man out of her presence. Her head then darted towards the Headquarters.

She needed to ensure Karl's safety.

Meanwhile, Oskar was on the flight deck of the Graf Zeppelin, sitting down on a convenient chair which was propped up near the superstructure. He was taking notes as Graf Zeppelin herself spoke with him, standing in front of him as she recounted all she could about Rudolf.

"I never really spoke with him all too much. He was assigned to me only 2 weeks prior to the initial flight, as I had recently been refitted to account for a small number of bombers as well as a slight expansion of my flight deck to accommodate their take-off distances. He didn't raise any red flags or anything of the sort. Rudolf just kept to himself, kept his workstations tidy, his plane in repair, and yada yada."

Oskar looked up to the female who was leaning against the wall of the superstructure, near a door which led into it. "Did he volunteer to fly Karl?"

"I was asking around for anyone who could and he offered his services. He didn't specifically request it I'd say, just mentioned he was up for the job."

"Ah." Oskar took a few notes. "Would he have had any sort of resentment against the Kriegsmarine or anything? Was he at all rude to superiors or acted like a recluse?"

"Not that I know of, no. He wasn't rude to any superiors and though he normally kept to himself, he wasn't an outright recluse. Rudolf didn't socialize much, but wasn't anti-social."

"So, he was just ordinary?"

"Yes." Graf Zeppelin let out a sigh. "Will this be all?"

Oskar nodded and stood up, putting the notes away. "I would like to request permission to search his quarters of the ship, as well as anywhere that he might have normally resided."

"Permission granted, but why?"

"We need to make sure he didn't leave anything damning behind. Maybe a note from a conspirator, a manifesto, the written out plan, something along those lines."

"Mm. Please be responsible of the ship if you do so."

"Absolutely."

Oskar and Erich were busy in the former living space of Rudolf, shuffling their way through his various personal belongings which he kept inside of it. It hadn't been touched since the initial crash, with Rudolf having moved back to a proper apartment soon after he left the hospital. Hence, any evidence was untouched. It was a very small space, only maybe 10 by 8 feet. Because Rudolf wasn't a permanent resident, but only was 'visiting' the Graf Zeppelin for a few months before being transferred elsewhere, he actually had one of the more decent living spaces.

Only problem is...

"Does this dude keep nothing personal on him?!" Erich said aloud in annoyance, shutting one of the very few books he kept in the small space in a desk upon finding nothing of interest within it.

"I guess not." Oskar answered the non-question Erich had asked. "We've only found his identification papers, a few books, and his hygiene products."

There was a pile near the door of such products, papers, and books which were haphazardly thrown to the side. Erich added to said pile with the book he had closed, titled 'AIR ADVANCEMENTS' by G.W. Mann. A few hundred page book looking over the various advancements in aerospace technology through the 1920s onwards - including diagrams, historical photos, and other such information.

Oskar moved over to the bedding, which was a metal slab sticking out of the wall with a mattress on top. Nothing too special. It had already been searched a bit, evidenced by the messy blanket work and thrown down pillow, but they hadn't looked under the mattress. Oskar put two hands under the mattress and lifted upwards with a 'hng' - it was heavier than he expected.

"Hey!" He called out to Erich who rushed over. There was a journal. It was small and thick, a flat carpenter's pencil marking a page in the middle. Erich grabbed it and Oskar put the mattress back down. Quickly, Erich began to flip through it.

"Dates and journal entries. Seems like a diary of some sorts." He commented. "Half of it is filled. Lots of writing."

"Bingo." Oskar snapped his fingers with a smile.

Rudolf sat in a bland concrete interrogation room illuminated by bright white luminescent lights on the roof. He was sitting by a table, his feet shackled to an iron chair embedded into the floor. There was a mirror to his left which he assumed was a one-way window, and to his right was a heavy metal door.

He had his head down on his desk, having sat there for hours at that point. The near blinding light prevented him from going to sleep comfortably, which was truly like torture.

The metal door creaked suddenly as it was unlocked from the outside with a 'clack', opening slowly. Rudolf's head rose, eyes narrowed. In came a familiar face to him - Scharführer Chemnitz.

Chemnitz took off his cap and put it down on the table as he entered. A guard closed the door behind him and Chemnitz sat down in a chair adjacent to Rudolf. He brushed his graying hair over to the side. He was an older man, around in his 60s, with indented cheeks and a tall, lean figure. His Gestapo uniform was adorned with a few awards, notably the Iron Cross.

"Well if it isn't my good friend." Rudolf said, sarcastically.

Chemnitz didn't answer, reaching into his pocket and taking out Rudolf's journal from the Zeppelin. Rudolf went a bit wide eyes, his irises locking onto the diary.

"Rudolf, I must ask... when is the last time you've taken a mental integrity evaluation?"

"...What? I don't know, 2 years ago maybe?"

"And I assume they found nothing out of the usual with that evaluation?"

"Yeah...?"

Chemnitz nodded silently and opened the journal up to the first few pages. "Because last I checked, the only people that mention past lives and 'other worlds' are fiction writers, children, and those with mental instabilities."

Rudolf pinched the bridge of his nose. "Listen... Christ, listen..."

"Listen to what, Rudolf? Are you saying this is all untrue? Some odd book you've been writing?"

"No..."

"Is it just some sort of escapism? A fantasy?"

"...no."

"Then what is it then, Rudolf? I mean, you speak of, and I quote 'the old world' where you were a fighter pilot, shot down during a fictional conflict in France, 1944, that never happened. Against the Americans, no less."

"It happened. It was supposed to happen."

"Hm?" Chemnitz' head tilted to the side a bit, curious about what he meant.

"...Listen. I knew that if I told anyone this in a serious light, I'd be seen as a crazy person. Mentally unfit. Unstable. But, you have to believe me here. Martin - my old self here - isn't me. Not this me, at least."

Chemnitz sat back in his chair a bit, placing his cupped hands on his lap. His brown eyes narrowed a bit. "Rudolf, what do you mean?"

"The Sirens, for example. They're not of this world. That's undebatable - they came from somewhere we could probably never truly understand. The idea that there are people not of this earth, from alternate versions of history - it shouldn't be a foreign idea. I come from one of those realities. A reality where the Sirens never came, where the war with the British continued and spiraled out of control. Far out of our control. We were losing, even. I was shot down over France, near the Ardennes. It was with a last-ditch counter offensive against American forces that went sour."

"And you expect me to believe you come from an alternate reality similar to that of the Sirens...? Where the Reich was losing a war, no less?"

"...No, no. I don't expect you to believe it. I just want it over with. I know no matter what I say, you won't take me seriously. But I'm not going back on what I said." Rudolf crossed his arms. "I'm not Martin. I'm not an assassin. I'm not a criminal in the first place. I was a pilot who was shot down."

"So, that's your final statement? You won't go back on that?" Chemnitz said, standing up and putting the journal back in his pocket.

"Yes." Rudolf answered.

Chemnitz shrugged and nodded. He put his hand up to signal for the door to be open. Which, it did with the same 'clack' of the lock and creak as it opened from before. Chemnitz grabbed his cap and slid it over his head. He didn't look back to Rudolf as he left - who already had his head back down.

A few hours later: Chemnitz, Oskar, Erich, and one other were in a room together. It was sizable and well furnished, with a bookcase and table, leather chairs and carpet. Two large wooden doors allowed entry and exit, with the sun coming in through slits in a slightly closed window.

"So here's the deal." Chemnitz spoke up first. "Rudolf refuses to go back on what he said. He insists this other world exists, that he has no connection beyond looks to Martin, as well as the refusal to acknowledge or accept the assassination prosecution. We put him through another mental evaluation after I left and everything was clean. He was above average when it came to his intelligence, held no overarching delusions, and was perfectly capable of rational thought, common sense, and everything in between. Absolutely nothing of note - perfectly normal."

The other man in the room, named Leon Trier who was sitting by the table with Erich and Oksar while Chemnitz spoke, rested his chin on his open palm. "So, he totally, rationally believes what he is saying?"

"As I said, there are no signs of delusion. To him, it makes sense, and he talks about it as if so. Normally, people saying such things would go on about something like, say, religion, speaking as if they were God or they knew God. They will persist in these beliefs and even become vocal to others about it. But Rudolf has yet to speak of it unless specifically asked."

"What does the journal even specifically talk about?" Oskar said.

"The first 10 days noted within it speak about Rudolf's apparent past. It seems he planned that one day it would be read, because he wrote about himself in an autobiographical sense. It talks about what happened if the War had continued and the Sirens had never invaded the seas of Earth, and it's decently detailed. That part ends when he details his crash over the Argonne forest in 1944 by an American fighter, a crash which killed him. Then, he apparently had awoken in said forest around three years ago and returned to his hometown of Munich, where he quite literally rebranded himself."

"Rebranded?" Erich asked in a confused tone.

"Assuming he is in fact the pilot Martin and the journal is either fiction or schizophrenic ramblings, Rudolf completely recreated his identity. He put in a request for a new ID, drivers license, a new Social Security number, the whole nine yards. He claimed identity theft and wished for new versions of each identification method given back to him, and he got it all. Rudolf went through all the right steps with full legality, never once technically submitting a 'fake' name because he had the proper government documents to back up said name. It's not illegal to get a name change, after all."

Leon let out a slightly annoyed sigh. "That's under the assumption that Martin was previously known to be his old identity. With a decade or so between Martin's death and Rudolf's emergence, pretty much no one would even know of Martin unless you went looking - which the Gestapo did and ended up finding."

"Still. We can't get him on some sort of identity fraud because he legally acquired all the documents he needed. Plus, the negligence charge is 100 percent in our favor, and if we can prove Martin and Rudolf are the same people - which we will - we can also charge him with military desertion. Those two charges alone would add up to 50 to 60 years hard labor. It wouldn't be hard after that to tack 'attempted assassination after radicalization by unknown group' onto it. That decade is completely unaccounted for and we can goddamn use our imagination to create whatever evidence we please."

"And after that?" Leon said.

"...Well, after that." Chemnitz sat down at the table finally, crossing his legs. "We can go ahead with infiltration. With Rudolf out of the picture and with the required reasoning, we can get one of the dolls into the personal guard of... what's his name?"

"Karl Essyn." Erich answered.

"Yeah, Herr Essyn. It'd be a government requirement to ensure his protection, to allocate him a personal guard. Though, Leon, have you decided who the guard would be?"

Leon stroked his chin at the question a bit. "Either 40' or 44'." He spoke in some sort of coded language. "Depends on which is in operability first."

"So that's the plan?" Erich asked the group. Leon nodded, as did Chemnitz. Oskar, however, had a bit of doubt.

"What if, at the end of the day, he ends up refusing the proposition?" he asked, referring to something seemingly unrelated to the conversation. Though, just as important.

Leon looked over to him. A smile came upon his face.

"Well..."