An elegant black limousine stopped in front of a large iron gate. A soldier, armed with a Karabiner rifle, walked toward the luxury car, stopping at the back window. When the soldier saw the passenger's face and collar, he instantly stiffened and saluted.
"Good day, Herr Major!" he said, quickly opening the gate.
The car continued its way toward a large, 1920s-style mansion. The door opened, and the man stepped out, his meticulous black leather boots crunching in the thin layer of snow. He put on his leather gloves and grabbed a briefcase before closing the door.
At the entrance, an older gentleman was already waiting. When the two men met, they shook hands.
"Major Jeager," the older man said, surveying Paul from head to toe.
"Chairman," Paul answered, bearing a stoic expression.
An attendant gestured for the two men to go inside.
Paul brushed off the thin layer of snow that had collected on his uniform before stepping through the doorframe.
The attendant took his long coat, and another housekeeper led Paul and the chairman into what seemed like an office.
When the attendant closed the door, Paul glanced at the rich furniture and decorations defining the room. Giant bookshelves, a large grand table, and an expensive-looking carpet covering the parquet. The floor-to-ceiling windows granted a majestic view of the estate's garden.
The chairman sat down behind the table, gesturing for Paul to take a seat.
"So, Major Jeager, I am a busy man, so I will be direct. Why have you requested to meet me today?" the chairman asked, clasping his hands.
"Please, Herr Jeager. I am not here as a representative of the army. I am here as a private citizen, Chairman."
"Well, Herr Jeager, why do I have the pleasure?" the chairman asked impatiently.
Paul only smiled slightly before placing his briefcase flat onto the table.
"This is…?" the chairman asked, surveying the case.
"The future," Paul said, opening the briefcase slightly and rotating it toward the chairman.
The chairman gave Paul a questioning look.
"It speaks for itself," Paul said, grabbing a cigar from the table.
"May I?" he asked.
"Of course," the chairman waved it off, already focusing on the documents again.
The chairman's facial expression shifted into astonishment after about ten minutes. Then his eyes slowly filled with exhilaration, and even his mouth could not hide his amazement. After thirty minutes, when he was nearly finished, his expression carried a tinge of surprise, even fear.
"Herr Jeager… this is…" he muttered. "How?"
"Whenever I was free in Spain, I would take notes on what could be enhanced. Equipment, technology, concepts. I wrote down everything, and I was always interested in this kind of field. This is somewhat a hobby of mine. I thought these could give you some inspiration," Paul answered, lowering his cigar.
"Inspiration…" the chairman repeated. "If even a fraction of this is feasible, then, and of course I would have to ask my engineers, but if it is, then it could boost the defense industry. It could boost Rheinmetall three or four years into the future."
What I am feeding them is only a fraction. I could not control their hunger. If I had given them more, one just has to look at him. Paul thought, analyzing the greed in the chairman's eyes.
The longer the silence, the more skeptical the chairman's expression grew, until he could not stand it anymore and pulled Paul out of his thoughts.
"I know what comes now, Herr Jeager," the chairman began. "What is it that you want?" he asked.
Paul did not answer for a moment, letting the tension reach its melting point. When a small drop of sweat fell from the chairman's head, splashing onto the table, he finally moved.
Paul raised three fingers.
"Three things," he said.
The chairman's eyes squinted. "Those are?"
"Firstly liquidity. I want 1 million Reichsmark," Paul said, letting the enormous sum hang in the air.
The chairman's eyes widened and he gulped hard.
"Secondly, shares. As you know, I already control about three percent of the company. I want another three," he said, smiling slightly.
For the chairman it looked more like the devil smiling at him than Paul.
"Lastly," Paul began. "A favor."
The chairman sighed loudly.
"Herr Jeager, you know that your demands are extreme," the chairman said, clearing his throat. "As a major shareholder, you should know that our revenue last year was only about 40 million Reichsmark. One million is absurdly high."
"Chairman. As you said, this information is extremely valuable. I promise it is more valuable than 1 million Reichsmark, more valuable than 40 million Reichsmark, more valuable than 400 million Reichsmark. This is no deal that is advantageous towards me," Paul said, taking a puff of his cigar.
"Besides, I can also go to your friends, Krupp for example," Paul began. "Can you guarantee that they would not pay that much?"
The chairman clenched his jaw. "Still, it was me who you first came to."
"Because I like Rheinmetall and because I cherish you personally, but that will not hinder me from visiting your concurrence next," Paul said, clenching his hands.
The chairman fell into thought for a moment, looking at the ceiling.
"Half," he said after a while, lowering his head and gaze again. "Five hundred thousand Reichsmark, but four percent shares. That is technically more than a million."
Paul too thought for a moment, although only to keep up appearances.
"I agree," he answered, meeting the chairman's eyes.
"What about the favor?" the chairman asked, worry in his eyes. "What does it include?"
"Anything," Paul said, his eyes cold as stone.
"That is madness!" the chairman nearly shouted. "You cannot expect me to simply…"
Paul stood up without another word, picked up the briefcase and turned toward the door. When he was halfway there, he paused and glanced back.
"I am off to Krupp. I will be making a deal with them, containing all my work and my other ideas as well," Paul said, placing his hand on the door handle.
The chairman's eyes, still burning with anger, widened with pure shock.
"WAIT!" he shouted just before Paul stepped through.
"There is more?" he asked, his voice trembling between fear and greed.
"There is," Paul answered calmly. "There will be more and more. A steady supply."
The chairman studied him for a long second, his jaw shifting as he made a decision he could never take back.
"I agree to all conditions mentioned before. Of course only if my engineers approve. I will call you."
Paul smiled slightly. "Please do so, Chairman. Good day."
He closed the door behind him.
A few minutes later the chairman stood at the window, watching the black Mercedes limousine roll out of the snowy courtyard, his thoughts drifting in mysterious directions.
Unknown to him, Paul was watching the mansion as well, lost in his own thoughts.
"How did it go, Major?" his driver asked.
"Well, it went well, Hans," Paul said, observing the young man's profile from the side.
Hans had been assigned to him by Oberst Schwarzer, whose division Paul was still officially part of.
"Next is the Reichstag, right?" Hans asked excitedly.
"Mhm," Paul answered, writing something down in his notebook.
"I admire you, Major. Meeting the Führer is nothing an ordinary soldier can even dream of. I think it is a great honor," Hans said, his eyes full of longing.
Paul shook his head slightly, still looking at the page in front of him, before finally closing the notebook.
"He is also a human like us, Hans," Paul said, holding back words he could never speak.
They continued in silence until the massive Reichstag came into view.
The car slowed down and stopped at the checkpoint.
This time security was far more serious. Heavily armed SS soldiers filled the guard post, two of them approaching the car. When they reached the back window, they saluted Paul sharply.
"Good day, Major. Your papers, please," one of them asked with routine in his voice.
"Good day, soldiers," Paul answered, handing his documents through the window.
The guard passed them to another soldier, who inspected them carefully. He took out a small book, checked something, then raised his gaze to Paul. After a brief glance, he nodded to the first guard.
"Open the gate!" the guard shouted.
"You are expected, Major Jeager," the soldier said, reverence in his eyes.
The car rolled forward and reached a separate parking area.
When Paul stepped out, the cold wind of winter struck him like a blade.
He walked through the snow, his dark, elegant uniform forming a stark contrast with the white landscape all around him.
Paul soon reached the grand staircase of the Reichstag, deserted except for the guards. His silhouette moved up the steps one by one, slow and deliberate, his coat fluttering lightly in the wind.
His solitary figure quietly reached the top, facing the legendary building.
Two guards stood at the entrance, two massive pillars flanking them. They straightened immediately and saluted when they saw him. One of them stepped forward and opened the door.
Paul officially stepped inside the heart of the Reich for the first time in both of his lives.
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