Chapter 81: Preemptive Strike
"Ethan, contact Cardolan in my name and tell him to summon the company representatives on this list. I want them in Hamburg next Monday."
Jörg folded one list away, then drew out another from inside his coat.
"It is time for the secret military research center in Soviet Russia to begin operating. It has sat idle for an entire month already."
The second list was even more astonishing than the first.
It was exhaustive, almost unnervingly so. Familiar names like Krupp Armaments and Rheinmetall were there, but so were firms Ethan had barely even heard of, Junkers Aircraft Works, Zeiss Optics, and several others that never appeared in ordinary military briefings.
As his eyes moved down the page, one marked name after another, Ethan could not help wondering whether he and Jörg truly belonged to the same species.
He had never once been ordered to collect information on this scale. If all of this had been gathered by Jörg himself, then the difference between an ordinary man and a genius was greater than the distance between a man and a dog.
He tucked the list away carefully.
"Understood, sir."
Jörg gave a slight nod.
Ethan turned the wheel, and the Imperial Eagle swept through Berlin toward the Berlin Higher Court.
Though the trial was closed to the public, reporters had already packed the square outside like bees swarming a flowering tree. Camera flashes burst one after another, each newspaper desperate to capture every arriving car. Through the window, Jörg noticed not only German papers, but foreign agencies as well.
Now that the news blackout had been lifted, many eyes were fixed on this trial.
The public had only been given fragments. But reporters with deeper sources had already sensed that something was wrong the moment Hindenburg, newly elevated, removed Commander in Chief Seckt with such speed. They wanted the truth behind the official statements.
Hindenburg himself had once suggested another approach to Jörg. He had wanted damaging details about Seckt exposed, enough to draw the press into a frenzy and turn the old commander into the central villain of the affair.
Jörg had refused.
Not because he lacked the heart for it, but because his position had changed. At this height, he had become his own pillar, and that meant he could no longer think only of the immediate gain. If he publicly branded Seckt a traitor, then when he formally stepped into command, his reputation among the General Staff and the field armies would be crippled from the outset. It would make the coming military reforms even harder to impose.
Seckt had indeed intended to stage a coup. That much was beyond dispute. But among the Reichswehr, the old general still held real prestige. Many officers did not want to see him bear the full stain of treason.
That did not mean Jörg intended to show mercy to Seckt's faction.
A purge was still necessary.
And it had already begun.
The Staff Secretariat had been dismantled piece by piece, and the half retired old men who once whispered policy into powerful ears had already been exiled into irrelevant idle posts. Their claws had been pulled.
Next would come the cavalry.
That was one of the real reasons he had come here today.
Officially, he had invited the senior officers of the cavalry units to attend the trial as observers. In reality, it was a demonstration, and every one of them understood it perfectly.
The Royal Cavalry Regiment's rebellion provided him with the ideal excuse. That regiment had been formed from the finest elements of various mounted branches. If such a unit could turn, then other cavalry formations could be said to harbor the same danger.
The implication was obvious.
No one dared stay away.
Because if they did, he would not even need to summon them a second time. He could simply arrange for them to be investigated as suspected accomplices and dismiss them on the spot.
Though he was, on paper, still only commander of the First Armored Division, in reality he had already taken over the functions of the commander in chief. The only thing missing was the formal appointment letter Hindenburg had promised to send that very evening.
The car came to a smooth stop before the courthouse.
Jörg stepped out.
Guderian, who stood only a single order away from full divisional command, came forward at once.
"Jörg, the cavalry officers are all waiting on the second floor. Shall we go up now, or later?"
"Now."
Inside the court building, two judicial staff members about his own age hurried forward to receive him. Though they belonged to a completely different branch of power, that did nothing to diminish his status. A man who had climbed to the summit of the Army at twenty five was something even Berlin's elite could scarcely imagine, much less equal.
And the two men escorting him were hardly insignificant figures themselves.
Though the examination system of the Reichswehr judiciary was no longer as restrictive as it had been under the Empire, entry into Berlin's higher courts was still no easy matter. Germany followed the civil law tradition, not the Anglo American model of juries and common law, and judicial officials held substantial authority. Without the noble convenience of a von before one's name, a commoner who passed into this circle could be called one in a thousand without exaggeration.
And now, even such men could only cluster around him with deference.
Sometimes, Jörg thought, fate really was everything.
If he had not been born into an aristocratic military family, if his ancestors had not once ridden beside the Wilhelms, if his father had not left him both name and standing, then perhaps he would have had to begin with examinations too, clawing his way into the German power structure like everyone else.
Where would he be now, if that had been his starting point?
Certainly not here.
Certainly not standing on the edge of absolute military authority.
In any age, a powerful family bought great convenience. Building from nothing, even in a time of upheaval, was never simple.
Fortunately, in the injustice of aristocratic privilege, he happened to be one of its beneficiaries.
When he entered the room upstairs, every conversation stopped.
The officers seated there all wore grave expressions. Not one had touched the black tea set before him. The moment Jörg appeared, they rose as one.
"Colonel Jörg, do you have instructions?"
He did not answer immediately.
Instead, he crossed the room at an unhurried pace, sat on the central sofa, and took a small sip of tea. At that same moment, the courtroom broadcast drifting in through the open window announced Drew's suicide out of guilt.
To Jörg's ears, it sounded quite pleasant.
To the cavalry officers, it was another matter entirely.
Drew had been one of their own, not merely an old general, but almost a symbol of the mounted branch itself. A few younger officers, those who had once enjoyed a closer relationship with him, visibly twitched at the sound. One of them even rose, clearly intending to shut the window.
Before he could move, Jörg lifted his eyes and glanced at him.
The officer froze in place, his hand hanging awkwardly in midair.
Jörg calmly took another sip of tea before speaking.
"If I am not mistaken, you are Mr. Jenofa Nott, commander of the First Cavalry Division."
Jenofa stiffened. "Yes... Colonel Jörg."
"It seems," Jörg said mildly, "that you are reluctant to hear this regrettable news."
Jenofa's face tightened at once.
"No, Colonel Jörg. I only thought the noise outside might interfere with your speech."
Jörg shook his head.
"It does not interfere with me."
He set the cup down with deliberate care.
"In fact, I think it serves a useful purpose. It gives us all time to reflect."
His gaze swept slowly across the room.
"The Royal Cavalry Regiment was assembled from the finest elements of the mounted arm, and yet even that unit allowed itself to be exploited by men with private ambitions. In the end, it became a blade pointed not at Germany's enemies, but at Germany herself."
No one spoke.
"Drew wanted to turn the Reichswehr into a platform for grievance and private resentment. He imagined he could use a coup to silence every new voice, every new idea, every force that threatened the world he could no longer preserve."
Jörg leaned back slightly.
"He failed."
The silence grew heavier.
"And now," he continued, "it is time for us to have an honest conversation."
.....
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