13/6 2020.
Germania.
Martin watched as the Japanese delegation viewed the portraits with an almost annoying interest. It was a little over 4 PM in the afternoon, and they were supposed to meet the Führer about two hours ago, right after lunch.
They all looked up at the portrait of one of the larger than life Führers of Germany. The gilded Reichmarshall.
"And here is our second Führer, Hermann Göring. One of our greatest leaders! A worthy successor to Adolf Hitler. He ruled Germany from 1964 to 1972. His greatest achievements include many expeditions into the perilous Congo, and bringing order to our nation after the death of Adolf Hitler, rest his soul. Had it not been for him, we wouldn't even be speaking in this building. Indeed, he was the one who also renovated the Reichstag, the Reichskanzlei and the completion of the Volkshalle. He even made this embassy complex we stand in now alongside Albert Speer!"
Martin spoke with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, trying to keep the delegates entertained even though he knew they didn't understand a single word of his broken Japanese.
He pointed to the portrait right next to Göring. The one showed a more humble figure, that of Albert Speer. "Now Speer was always a bit of a controversial figure in the Reich. But in the end, he proved himself loyal not only to the Führer, but to the German people, and ensured our nation's continued wellbeing. He proved himself a good Führer as well. Had it not been for Speer, we would have been mortal enemi-" Martin stopped himself. This kind of talk was not for someone of his rank. He swallowed a lump in his throat.
Martin kept on talking about the different Führers throughout the times. It was about all he was good for at this point, as the delegates were visibly becoming more and more bored by the second. He hoped it was enough to buy himself time until he got an update on their meeting with the current Führer. Truth be told, he knew very little about the Führers that came after Speer, most of them had been the rapidly aging old guard of the NSDAP, each one dying faster than the last. Even their current Führer was one of the last people who remembered a time before the city they currently resided in was not named Germania, but Berlin.
Just as Martin was coming up to the last portrait, he was interrupted by the door being slammed right open. It was none other than the Führer's personal secretary.
"Ah, right on time." Martin smiled weakly and finally began to speak in German again before swiftly walking towards the secretary. "Where the hell have you been?!" he whispered through gritted teeth, trying his damndest to keep a smile.
"We need to talk… Right now." The secretary almost demanded and yanked in Martin's sleeve.
"Damn right we do. Where is the Fuhrer?" Martin silently hoped that the translator following the delegates was not relaying the conversation to them right now.
The secretary looked at Martin with tired eyes, "Dead." he said simply and without warning. And though the translator did not quite hear him, the delegates did not need their german-for-beginners handbook.
Martin just looked at the secretary completely dumbfounded. His world almost shattered in that moment. In all his 30 years of service in the embassy, he had never been at such a loss for words. Usually, the death of the Führer came with more warning than this.
Still, he had a job to do, and like a true german, he planned to see it through to the end. "Gentlemen." Martin spoke to the delegates, not even attempting to speak in Japanese anymore, "I'm afraid I will have to leave you now, there is work to be done." with a grim face he turned his back to the confused japanese men who were still waiting on their translator for an explanation.
It is written into German law that upon the death of every Führer, it is not the people nor the army that must be informed first, but the Reichskanzlei. He was against the clock now. There was no time to waste.
'Tick tock tick tock…'
An hour later.
"What the fuck do you mean he's dead?" Gottfried bellowed through the empty room, save for him and his friend, currently sitting at his desk with the same solemn face he's had for the past 15 years.
"That's what the Reichskanzlei says, and that's what I'm telling you." Ulfric explained calmly, not even paying attention to the general's mad marching around the room.
"And why exactly, are you the one telling me and not the goddamn Oberkommando?!"
"Settle down Gottfried, it's only the death of the Führer." From the lower end of his desk Ulfric leaned down and got himself a group of papers, all perfectly folded and disgustingly clean.
"I will knock your fucking jaw off right now." he pointed menacingly towards the suited aristocrat. "Just the death of the Führer, he says"
"I don't see why you're so surprised, it's been happening every decade now. With how replaceable they've become, you would think Schmidt had some good ideas with democratizing the Reich."
"Be very careful what you say next, Ulfric. Suggesting such things as degeneracy and liberalization of the Reich earns you a bullet between the eyes, and as the highest ranking officer of the Heer in this room, it is my duty to put a swift end to any and all disobedience." Gottfried said as he adjusted himself in his seat. The sound of his medals clinking was the only sound in the room for a second or two.
"Is that so? And how exactly will you put an end to my disobedience?"
"With a bullet between the eyes you daft cunt."
"Indeed. Anyways, before you kill me, let's figure out what to do now. I've got a few thoughts on who the parties will try to elect next." he began placing the papers next to one another on the table, they were dossiers, files on all notable members of each faction currently occupying their one-party state.
"You never did take me seriously." he put his gun back in the holster and walked closer to the table to get a better look. His jackboots' steps echoing throughout the small office.
"Our first candidate would be Heinz Bauer, local representative of the Speerites." Ulfric pointed to a picture of a scrawny man with a balding head, his cheeks barely full of meat you could see the definition of his skull.
"You really gotta stop using those nicknames…" Gottfried commented with a sigh
"He's an alright man, morally, but in terms of business interests there's little difference between him and an ant in a colony."
"I can see that, look at his eyes, you'd think his mother got fucked by an otter or something."
"Indeed." he moved onto the other dossier. "Next would be the representative of your favorites, the Göring boys." Had he not known Ulfric as good as he did, Gottfried would almost assume that was a joke.
"Wenzel Schuster…" Gottfried read through the file. The name sounded familiar. "Wasn't he-"
"Our old boot camp instructor, yes. Come a long way from making you clean the latrines every night."
"Crusty old son of a bitch. Remember that time he caught us playing cards in the barracks? Almost had us all sent to the firing range."
"As targets, yes I remember."
Moving on, they scanned over the dossier of the technocrat leader. "Waldo Beitel, I don't know much about him, german scientist from Louisiana, though from his records he's still pure-blooded." Ulfric tapped a finger on his forehead trying to recount all the information. "Besides that, he's your typical fat scientist type, loves to think about inventing, doesn't actually want to do it. Perfect for R&D. I think I know what the Brauns like about him."
And finally, the file Gottfried seemed the most anxious of reading. "And, of course, our dear friends in the conservative faction. Headed by the ever-vigilant falcon Kurt Bormann."
"Fucker is still riding on the success of his dear granddad, isn't he?" Gottfried asked with a laugh.
"Like a feudal lord, stuck in the past."
"Well this little rundown you've given me is great, but why? I already know you're with the conservatives, no matter how much both of us hate that little shit Bormann."
"Why indeed Gottfried." he hated whenever his friend got that tone about him, it always led to trouble, and he would be the one paying for it, this time however it wouldn't be just scrubbing latrines.
"The reason I told you this before anyone outside the Reichskanzlei was the same reason the Reichstag is currently on fire." he got up from his well-made leather armchair, engraved with gold and encrusted with jewels from the congo. "We are currently going through what would in layman's terms be considered a fucking shitstorm, if you will pardon my french."
"No shit, but it's not like we can do anything about it. And before you start giving me some grand speech about how I would be the perfect man for the job let me remind you that my wife still makes me sleep on the couch every night. So how will I be able to rouse a crowd of people."
"I sometimes admire the high image you have of yourself Gottfried. But no, I do not think you would make a good Führer."
"You son of a bitch."
"What I do think however, is that none of the people we just looked at are fit to be Führer either."
Gottfried raised an eyebrow. They weren't new thoughts by any means, but Gottfried could only guess where this might be going. "You aren't suggesting that-"
"No. I have no wish to be the Führer Gottfried, nor do I have any intentions of placing myself in first place in the upcoming race for the top. The person who shall become Führer will be whoever the Reich deems them to be. Yet despite that, I have no intentions of standing idly by whilst old men in suits continue to rattle on about the old days while our country slowly starts to rot away. Let Bormann have the fucking seat for all I care, or let Schuster or any of these old farts come in to take the crown. But they won't be there for long, the old guard is dying, you know it, and I know it."
"Hold it." Gottfried stopped him before he could let another one of those big words enter his ears. Ulfric was known as someone who would often get into long, dramatic tirades about any topic, truly, the life of a politician suited him better than that of a man in uniform ever could. But that didn't mean Gottfried was about to deal with this pansy bullshit for any longer. "Stop trying to run circles around me with fancy poetry, just tell me what you want to do."
"I want the two of us to work together, and show the Reich the tumor beginning to grow in its body. If we're successful in this, someone useful might just turn around and start leading our country down the right path."
"So this entire little plan of yours is based-"
"Based on the combined skills of my political efforts and based on the combined muscle of you and your soldiers."
Gottfried narrowed his eyes, and for once, he spoke completely seriously with his old friend. "If you're actually suggesting that we coup the government, I will shoot you right here and right now."
"Please, I'd never stop so low, not yet anyways."