Chapter 64: Necessary Vigilance
"Yes, Leader."
As Joseph straightened to leave, Jörg rose from his seat and pressed down the man's raised hand.
"Send someone to the police headquarters and find Vito. I want plainclothes officers, specifically those who have already joined the Progress Party, assigned to these locations."
He handed Joseph a list.
Joseph lowered his eyes to it. He did not recognize a single name, but the addresses alone sent a chill down his spine.
Kurfürstendamm. Unter den Linden.
These were all places frequented by important political figures in Berlin. And the few suburban addresses on the lower half of the page were even more revealing.
A thought surfaced in his mind, so sharp that it made him ask before he could stop himself.
"Leader... are we going to take the next step?"
Jörg crossed to the window and pushed it open.
The late autumn wind swept in at once, carrying away the heat gathered in the room and calming the intensity in Joseph's voice.
He shook his head.
"Just necessary precautions."
If his memory was correct, President Ebert would die early next year from heart trouble and failing health.
In the original course of history, that would have been a tragedy, but nothing more.
In this world, however, because of him, because of the butterfly effect he had unleashed, it could become something far worse.
Ebert was not merely his patron.
He also bore, on his own shoulders, the greater part of the pressure directed at Jörg from the government, and even from within the army itself.
If Ebert fell, Jörg had no doubt that certain men would leap forward the instant a vacuum appeared.
The hardliners in the Reichswehr, for one.
Men who had spent half their lives inside the army and the state would understand the moment instinctively.
Once Dawes Stock was listed, and once the money was in place, the reforms targeting the Reichswehr would begin in earnest. When that happened, old cavalry doctrines and ancient battlefield habits would be put on the block like livestock. Hooves, sabers, and worn out theories would be crushed beneath steel tracks and modern logistics.
That would be the moment those men would be at their most dangerous.
And that, in Jörg's judgment, would also be their best chance to seize power.
Seeckt's previous handling of the hardliners had already revealed one thing clearly enough: he still retained sympathy for them.
And Jörg was no longer the inexperienced newcomer who had first stepped into the army.
His prestige had grown. His authority had grown. His influence had grown.
That would only make it more likely that Seeckt, when forced to choose, might drift toward the conservatives rather than stand beside the young reformer he himself had nurtured. No man ever surrenders power willingly, not completely.
And there was another problem.
Although Seeckt had indeed trained him, it had ultimately been Hindenburg who brought him into the military world.
That meant Seeckt could never be fully certain that Jörg was his man.
And if that uncertainty remained, then he could never be counted on to raise the butcher's knife against his old comrades for Jörg's sake.
Of course, all of this was still only the worst possibility.
"Understood, Leader. I'll leave at once."
Joseph had finally grasped the gravity of the matter. He tightened his overcoat and turned toward the door.
But before he could leave, Jörg placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close.
"If something unexpected happens while I'm out of the country, contact Guderian and Vito. You understand what I mean?"
Joseph's expression sharpened.
"I understand, Leader."
"If nothing happens beyond a few probing tricks, then leave it alone. I'll deal with it when I return."
Joseph's eyes hardened. Beneath the seriousness there was now a trace of something fiercer.
"Yes, Leader."
He bowed deeply, then departed, leaving Jörg alone before the open window.
Outside, the wind had grown colder. Far colder.
Jörg looked into the darkening night and murmured to himself,
"I hope it all unfolds in a better direction."
...
On the other side of the city, inside a private wine cellar, beer flowed from an oak cask through a newly driven tap.
Foam surged from the spout into a waiting mug, filling the room with the pleasant scent of fresh malt and yeast.
Drew, still dressed in a riding coat, turned the valve with practiced ease and handed one of the mugs across the table.
"Try it. Tell me how it tastes."
Seeckt, who rarely allowed himself such moments of leisure, slipped the stack of joint letters into his coat pocket. Each of them contained complaints from officers in various military districts, all voicing dissatisfaction with Roman's exclusive grip on reform.
He took a sip and allowed himself a faint smile.
"It's good."
Drew lifted his own mug, sampled it, and shook his head.
"Still a touch short. A few more days in the cask and it would have been better."
Then, as though speaking casually, he said,
"Do you remember, Seeckt, our years in the Guards Grenadier Regiment? You took first place in every physical trial back then."
At that, Seeckt's face softened with the faintest trace of nostalgia.
"Of course I remember. The regimental commander was delighted. He gave me two mugs of beer and started calling me Athlete."
Drew barked out a laugh.
"And the beer was foul."
"Horrible," Seeckt agreed. "I always suspected he had mixed in something fit only for horses. I thought I was drinking stable runoff."
Drew took another swallow.
"After that, when you were promoted, it was my turn to suffer. I finally escaped that damned regiment and transferred to the cavalry. I served as a divisional commander for a few years, and then the war came."
His expression shifted.
"At first we were unstoppable. Our horses carried us so far that the hooves nearly reached Paris itself."
Then his voice dropped.
"Then the war was lost."
He stared down into the dark beer in his mug.
"And now, perhaps, the day is coming when old men like us will be purged."
Seeckt did not answer at once.
By now he understood perfectly well why Drew had invited him here.
He set down his mug and said quietly,
"No, Drew. Cavalry will not disappear."
"You can't know that." Drew's reply came at once. "That Roman you've indulged so much in the Reichswehr certainly doesn't think so. I've heard enough about his armored doctrine already, even secondhand."
He snorted.
"A heap of iron shells replacing cavalry? It would be laughable, if it were not dangerous."
He leaned back and fixed Seeckt with a hard stare.
"As a friend, let me offer you advice. Be careful of that young man."
"He was brought in by Hindenburg. His power inside the Reichswehr is growing too quickly, and that will not end well for you."
Seeckt shook his head.
"You are overthinking it. Roman is a genius. He knows where the lines are. He has his own insights. Disagreements of opinion are natural, especially in a young man."
He took another drink.
"If he wants to experiment with a few armored divisions, let him. There is value in testing new methods."
Drew's hand tightened around the mug.
"And if the cost of that test is the cavalry itself?"
His voice had lost all warmth now.
"You may be willing to accept such a price. I am not."
To Drew, cavalry was not merely a branch of service.
It was blood, memory, inheritance, and pride.
It was family honor carried from one generation to the next.
"I'm tired, Seeckt," he said at last, standing. "We'll speak again another time."
Then, before leaving, he turned back one last time.
"And one more piece of advice, old friend. I am not the only man in the army dissatisfied with this genius of yours."
"He is talented, yes. But you would do well to look beyond his talent and see his ambition, and to ask yourself how much of it your own favoritism has fed."
After he left, Seeckt sat alone with the taste of beer still on his tongue.
For a moment, he said nothing.
At last, he only sighed.
"I will be careful, Drew. Goodbye."
But the moment Drew stepped out of the cellar, his face changed.
He summoned a trusted subordinate and lowered his voice.
"Get word to our people in the other military districts. I want another joint statement of dissatisfaction drafted and circulated. We must pull Seeckt fully onto our side."
His eyes were cold now.
"If that boy leaves, all of us benefit."
The subordinate nodded at once.
"It will be done, sir."
Then he hesitated before adding,
"Several high ranking officials from the government want to meet with you about Roman. What should I tell them?"
Drew's mouth curled into a thin smile.
"Tell them I'm available at any time."
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