My Third Reich

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While the Spanish Civil War was raging, far away in the German capital, late one night in Berlin, a dark figure slipped into the entrance of a building in a wealthy district, climbed the stairs, and knocked on the door of an apartment.

The male owner, dressed in expensive pajamas, pulled the door open. He looked with sleepy eyes at the man who had knocked. On a finger of the hand resting on the door was a very conspicuous ring with a six-pointed star. “Sir, who are you looking for?”

“Mr. Faiman sent me,” the man said casually.

“Please come in,” the owner said. Hearing it was an acquaintance, he stepped aside. As the man entered the house, he asked, “What does Mr. Faiman want that he would send you this late?”

“It’s like this. Mr. Faiman said you owe him a debt of fifty thousand US dollars,” the man said, casually picking up a photo frame from a tall cabinet with his hand. “Your daughter? Very pretty.”

“Thank you. She is my angel,” the owner’s face lit up when he spoke of his daughter, but he quickly asked with confusion, “I do indeed owe Mr. Faiman a debt of fifty thousand dollars, but when we made the loan, we agreed that I would pay it back next month. Does he want it now?”

“Yes! Mr. Faiman wants the money now,” the man nodded, placing the leather briefcase he was carrying on the coffee table.

“I don’t have that much here in the house. I only have about thirty thousand,” the owner said with some regret. “If you need to take it, that’s all I have.”

The man thought for a moment, then nodded again. “No problem, that will do for now. I’ll come back for the rest in a few days.”

After waiting a moment, the man noticed the owner hadn’t moved. He frowned and asked, “What are you waiting for? Go get the money so I can leave.”

“Sir, I need to see the IOU I gave to Mr. Faiman,” the owner said with some embarrassment. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but you see, thirty thousand dollars is not a small sum, is it?”

The man seemed to have a sudden realization. He pulled a contract from the inner pocket of his coat and handed it to the owner. The owner noticed that under his overcoat, the man was wearing an SS uniform. He didn’t think much of it. He saw that it was indeed the contract he had signed, nodded, and walked to a safe in the corner of the room, on top of which sat a pot of fresh flowers. He turned the combination lock.

However, when he turned back with the money in his arms, he found the man pointing a pistol at him. The man’s other hand was holding his now-removed overcoat, which he casually hung on the coat rack by the door.

“My God! You can take the money! Don’t be rash!” the owner cried, scared out of his wits. “I can give you all this money! Please don’t shoot!”

“Put all the money in the case. I’m taking it,” the man said harshly, pointing to the case on the coffee table.

“Okay! Okay! Don’t get excited! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” The frightened owner hurriedly put the money into the leather case on the coffee table. The briefcase was clearly quite large, looking like it could hold several hundred thousand dollars.

“I am indeed taking the money, but I’m also taking your life,” the man said with a cold, triumphant sneer after the owner had done as instructed and stood aside. “Because we need your death to build momentum for our next move.”

“You won’t get away if you fire that gun! This is the Jewish quarter!” the owner said, staring at the dark muzzle of the gun, his voice tinged with tears. Hearing the commotion, the lady of the house came out of the bedroom and saw the scene before her.

“Ah! Help!” she screamed instinctively.

“Bang!” The husband was shot and collapsed in a pool of blood, clutching his chest.

“No!” the wife cried out in terror, but it did not change her own fate.

“Bang!” Another shot, and the wife was also hit.

The man picked up the case, rushed into the room behind the still-struggling wife, and fired two shots at the girl on the bed who was still rubbing her eyes. As he fired, he shook his head with regret. “What a pity. Didn’t get to play with her before killing her.”

Then he turned, put another bullet into the wife on the floor, ran over and kicked the now-motionless husband, and then ran out the door. By this time, many people had poked their heads out into the hallway. They all saw an SS officer carrying a case run down the stairs, a wisp of smoke still drifting from the pistol in his hand.

“Murder!” A piercing scream and the five gunshots from before shattered the peaceful night sky. Lights gradually came on, and the Jewish residents living in the building and nearby put on their clothes and came out of their homes. They were already living on edge under Nazi intimidation and threats, so now they were exceptionally united.

The police cars arrived an hour later. A few sleepy-eyed policemen recorded the outrage and anger of the surrounding Jewish residents.

“They said they saw the Führer’s SS commit the crime. There’s more than one witness. They’re afraid we’ll be biased, so they’re still gathered here and won’t leave,” a policeman said to his superior. “The situation is very difficult.”

“What’s the scene like?” the officer in charge asked with a frown.

“Five shots were fired at the scene. We’ll need the autopsy report to determine the specific type of handgun,” a policeman reported. “The safe was opened, and the money inside is gone.”

“Call the SS duty office and ask them what the hell happened tonight,” the officer said, quietly taking a step back to instruct the policeman behind him. “Use the old method. Remember to note if they say they need to ‘verify’ or ‘inquire.’ Those two words are very important! Understood?”

“Sir!” a policeman ran over in a hurry.

“Now what?” the officer asked, annoyed and impatient.

“The SS is here! They received a report that someone was impersonating an SS officer to commit a crime!” the policeman panted.

“This is confusing me. What kind of mess is going on tonight?” the officer said with a wave of his hand. “Come with me to take a look! Let’s see what’s going on.”

A few policemen arrived at the entrance of the alley, where about three rows of Jewish residents were crowded, facing off against more than thirty SS soldiers at the mouth of the alley. The SS soldiers held their rifles at the ready, glaring coldly at the unarmed residents. Due to their training and ruthlessness, their emotions were clearly not affected by the agitated crowd.

When the police officer on duty reached the mouth of the alley, pushed through the crowd, and looked at the row of SS soldiers with their guns, a cold sweat dripped from under his helmet down the back of his neck. “Ge-ge-general. What brings you here?”

Standing behind the two rows of soldiers, surrounded by several SS officers, was none other than Reinhard Heydrich, a General of the SS (this was not a Wehrmacht rank) and one of Führer Akado’s most favored confidants.

“Heil Führer!” the police officer said, suddenly realizing his lapse in etiquette. He quickly raised his right hand and saluted. “Long live the Greater German Party!”

“The killer escaped?” Heydrich asked, frowning as he fiddled with his leather gloves. These gloves were a birthday gift from the Führer himself, so he always cherished them and was never without them.

“General, he had indeed escaped by the time we arrived. There are eyewitnesses who say he was wearing an SS uniform…” the police officer said quietly, moving past the soldiers to get as close to Reinhard as he could.

“That was a disguise! There was a case with the same method in the 7th district yesterday! Deliberately firing a gun in a Jewish quarter late at night, deliberately being seen in the uniform. Otherwise, do you think I would be standing here in the middle of the night?” Reinhard snorted coldly, narrowing his eyes. “A vicious frame-up, but I have to admit, very effective.”

“Yes, yes!” the police officer said, smiling obsequiously and bowing. “This humble servant will arrange for police forces to protect the nearby residential areas! To prevent such incidents from happening again.”

“Mm, go and do it,” Reinhard said with a wave of his hand, dismissing the police officer. He then gave some orders to the officers around him, got back into his small car, and left the alley under the protection of several other vehicles. As soon as he was gone, the guards also slung their rifles, jumped onto a truck, and disappeared down the street in a few minutes.

The next morning, at the Führer’s Residence.

“It’s those damned Junker aristocrats again! Haven’t I given them enough?” Akado threw the newspaper in his hand onto the sofa with a sharp crack. “Should I learn from Stalin and hang all these damned bedbugs from the lampposts?”

“Akado! What has made you so angry? You have an important banquet with Miss Mercedes in a little while. Don’t be upset before a meal! It will affect your stomach,” Anna said, walking over to tidy up the newspaper and placing a hand on Akado’s shoulder to soothe him.

Akado pointed to the newspaper in Anna’s hand. “Yesterday, the Nazi Party won an election in a city and is now openly questioning my foreign policy! What’s worse, they are even pompously using the communists’ playbook to negate my economic policy! The infuriating thing is that a group of Junker aristocrats there has come out in public support of Hitler!”

“It’s just one small city, after all! We still control the whole of Germany, my dear Führer,” Anna whispered, her red lips close to Akado’s cheek.

Akado turned his head and gently kissed her luscious lips. He forced a smile and said, “It’s not good news that those two sides are colluding. If they stir up some uncontrollable trouble, I’ll have to divert my energy to deal with it! They’re truly a bunch of disgusting cockroaches that don’t even bite!”

He then sighed. “They’ve used the momentum from this incident to seize the right to speak in a city. This is very detrimental to the party… Take a message to Reinhard. Tell him to catch the killer as soon as possible! If this continues, our credibility will be questioned, and we will lose the support of the Jewish people.”

“Yes, my Führer!” Anna said with a smile and a salute, then walked out of Akado’s office, her round, shapely hips swaying.