Paul and Werner sat together at a table, sowhere beneath the tailor shop. It was a small room, sparsely decorated, only a big wooden table in its center and a single light bulb hanging above it.
Paul lit a cigar, the glowing tip giving off a faint light.
"We are the only ones in this century who know how bad that is for your health, Paul." Werner noted with a raised eyebrow.
"I would say you only live once, but that would not be true for us. So yes, I don’t care." Paul answered.
"You have changed."Werner said, mustering the broad, shouldered, cold gazed, Paul.
"We all do."Paul said.
"Has the letter reached you?"He asked, switching the topic.
"It has, Fischer. It ca to the shop three months ago. You did not receive my answer?" Werner asked, visibly confused.
"Your answer?" Paul frowned. "I did not."
He suddenly slamd his fist onto the table, making it creak. "It was Klausemann, that rat!" Paul growled, his anger evident.
"Klausemann?" Werner repeated.
"Yes. Klausemann. An Oberst who helped the Spanish sniper that tried to kill . Another spy. He was also responsible for field mail." Paul said, grabbing his cigar again.
"An actual Spanish sniper?" Werner asked, bewildered.
"It seems we have a lot to discuss." Paul sighted.
So ti later
The once blank table was now covered with dozens of papers, letters and notes.
"So you are telling the first spy and the second one are connected? Both tried to kill you and both of their trails lead to a mysterious old Arican man?" Werner asked in disbelief, reading a statent from General Marqués.
"It appears so." Paul answered coldly.
Paul and Werner shared a long look. Paul’s cigar crackled in his hand.
"And why would so random Arican want dead so badly?" Paul asked with a dangerous tone. "An Arican we don’t know, we never t, who is not even known in our original history. None of this was ntioned in the tiline we ca from."
"They could have been sleeper agents. Maybe never activated, or maybe they completed all missions without leaving traces. Or maybe our presence changed sothing." Werner said, rubbing his forehead. "There are too many variables, Paul."
Silence followed. Paul took a deep puff, then spoke slowly.
"What if there are not too many variables? What if that man knows and knows you? What if we know him as well, Werner? Has that thought never crossed your mind?" Paul asked, raising his eyebrows. "I told you the story of the U-boat...."
Werner froze in thought, then raised his head abruptly. "Are you saying..."
"What if that man is not an unknown figure but our Arican friend we have known for years?" Paul continued, venom dripping from his voice.
"Jas." both n said at the sa ti.
"Could Jas be the old man?" Werner asked, picking up another docunt.
"Why should our transmigration be restricted only to the young selves of our ancestors. Maybe we were just lucky. Maybe Jas ended up in an older body." Paul analysed, his eyes narrowed.
"True, but look here." Werner pointed at a passage. "Marqués clearly states that Klausemann intended to flee to the United States. To the old man and to that man’s boss."
"You an the old man is a lackey?" Paul asked skeptically.
"Could be." Werner muttered.
"Could be. We simply don’t know." Paul said, stroking his chin. "I think I will inform Heydrich. I trust him."
"Gestapo, trustworthy?" Werner asked ironically.
Paul smiled faintly.
"Either way, we will find out who wants dead. And he will share that fate, truly." Paul said.
"That he will." Werner muttered.
"What about the stocks?" Paul asked, switching the topic.
"They are going as expected." Werner laughed. "Honestly, I don’t know why I am still working as a tailor."
"It is a good cover." Paul said, taking the sheet Werner slid over.
3.76%Rheintall
2.31%Krupp
3.29%sserschmitt
1.76%BMW
2.85%rcedes
0.87%Porsche
4.56%...
"That is only the beginning. We have managed to gain serious influence and wealth in the last ten months. A teoric rise for a tailor and a major." Werner joked. "And it keeps growing."
"Good work." Paul nodded. "I will et the Rheintall chairman tomorrow as a private person, not as a Wehrmacht officer."
"What for?" Werner asked.
"Here." Paul pulled another folder from his leather briefcase.
Werner took it, flipped through it, and froze.
"Is this...?" Werner whispered, stunned.
"Yes. They are not perfectly accurate, but they are key technologies and ideas the country will only develop decades later." Paul replied with visible satisfaction.
"Unbelievable. I knew you were an engineer in the Bundeswehr back in the two thousands, but I did not expect this level." Werner said, still staring at the sketches.
"And when do you et him?" Werner asked.
"Tomorrow. After the chairman." Paul answered.
"A busy man." Werner smirked. "Slowly I feel guilty."
"Don’t. You are still climbing the ranks." Paul said, encouraging him. "I asked Heydrich to contact his friend in the SS. He will put in a good word for you."
"Still, it is the SS. It is not pleasant to be among those madn." Werner sighed, glancing at the SS uniform hanging in the corner.
"You know it is necessary." Paul said, watching a worn out notebook lying in the corner of the table. The book bore a strong resemblance to the one he had found in his barracks when he woke up for the first ti.
"I know." Werner replied coldly.
"There is another thing." Paul began. "I have begun to sow discord and to reach out to unhappy people."
Werner’s eyes lit up. "Who did you get? So junior officers? That Erich or Hans you told about?"
Paul lowered his cigarette. "General Sperrle."
Werner paused for a mont.
"General Sperrle." he repeated. "General Sperrle?"
"Yes, he was quite open in criticising Hitler, so it was an easy ga." Paul answered. "Furthermore I befriended Hasso von Manteuffel and Wolfram von Richthofen, they are supporting us too."
"That’s unbelievable, to think they had that in them." Werner said, laughing.
Paul slid his glove down. "That’s our sigil."
Werner glanced at the silver ring with interest.
"Will I get one?"
"Yes. Here." Paul leaned in, handing over a ring.
"Great." Werner said, putting on the ring and mustering it from all sides.
The two n talked a bit more until Paul stood up.
"How about we go grab a drink. It’s been long since we had one. The next ti would be in eighty years?" Paul joked.
"It has been a long day. There are too many questions still unanswered." Werner sighed. "Let’s go." He grabbed his coat before exiting the small shop.
Paul followed, being greeted by a snowflake falling onto his cheek.
He stopped and watched his surroundings.
The landscape had transford in light speed, bearing the spirit of winter. Snow was falling down continuously from the sky, painting the world white. Much to the happiness of the kids, who were already playing in the little snow that had reached the ground.
Paul watched them for a second or two, without any change of mimic, betraying no emotion, before he turned back and followed Werner once again.
The kids watched the back of the man with big, interested eyes...
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