In a mere three months after Bruno had introduced the Volkswagen Type I, the vehicle could be seen everywhere on the streets. The fact of the matter is, an affordable automobile built for middle-class families and filled with comforts that weren’t even found on the majority of luxury vehicles found in the Reich other than those latest models sold at exorbitant prices from Daimler Benz, made the people’s automobile the most popular car in the world.
So much so that the factory couldn’t keep up with the current demand. And though this was a temporary problem, Bruno did not mind it in the slightest. He would not, of course, jack up the prices despite the limited supply and high demand.
After all, it was meant to be an affordable option for middle-class families. And that would be counter intuitive. Considering the overwhelming wealth Bruno currently possessed, extracting the most profit possible was not really a concern for him. He was, after all, a man of humble nature, and was seldom tempted by avarice.
Which itself was a rarity among mankind. Nevertheless, it was perhaps because these Volkswagen Beetles were so prominent in the Reich, that it was no surprise that when it came winter, there were many parked along the streets of Berlin.
The night sky was blotted out by clouds and snowfall, so much so that the city of Berlin was unusually illuminated for the time of the day. After all, the streetlights simply could not escape into the darkness of the universe, rather their brightness was captured within the clouds, and thus made the city abnormally well lit.
This was less than ideal for a man like Erich who stepped outside of his government issued Type I beetle, whose paint job was as black as night, just like the rest of the Type I’s as they were sold in a single color to reduce costs.
He, along with several other men, dressed in black tailored suits that were worn beneath leather trench coats, opened up the trunk of the vehicle, where several firearms were on display. Erich pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one such device where he took a long drag, all the while picking up an MP-34 submachine gun from the automobile’s storage compartment.
After doing this he racked the charging handle, ensuring a 9x19mm round was properly chambered before flicking on the safety, where he slung the weapon around his back and took the cigarette from his map, nimbly keeping it held before his fingers as he spoke to the agents beneath his command.
“The target is living in that building over there… Our informant in the SDP tells us that after failing to gain any seats within the Reichstag during the election, he has progressively become more unstable…
We were alerted to possible plots against the Kaiser and his family, having been spoken of by our target to his trusted friends, and it is time we do something about this socialist prick before something happens that can never be forgiven.
Are you men ready? Because our orders are simple, apprehend the target and extract him back to headquarters, where he will be properly interrogated by our specialists in order to acquire information about his treasonous activities. Failure is not an option, understood? You are all aware of the price such a thing would entail…”
The Agents of the Kaiser’s Secret Police were quick to salute their director, whose sadistic streak was so legendary that he commonly personally led operations within the city of Berlin. They knew what would happen to them should they allow the target to escape, and because of this, they had brought serious hardware to ensure this was not a reality.
After all there was no telling what a man accused of high treason and seditious activity was capable of. Hence why when they began grabbing their weapons from the trunk, it was no surprise that they were firearms currently issued to the military.
One man pulled out a Gewehr 43 rifle, which was mounted with a 4x optic. He would be taking up a post on a nearby fire escape to ensure that he had eyes on the entry point of the house. While a machine gun team would be posted at the rear of the target’s residence.
The individual men of the fire team that would be kicking down the door of the single-family home were equipped with MP-34s for the most part, however the breacher was carrying a Domestically produced Browning Auto-5 Riot shotgun.
These men were also naturally wearing the proper load bearing equipment to sustain their urban operations, which was over their black leather trench coats. Giving them a rather menacing looking paramilitary appearance.
After ensuring that all rounds were properly loaded, and that every man was in position, Erich stacked up against the front door of the house. Not even giving the resident proper warning, as he nodded to the Breacher, who shot three slugs into the door’s lock, allowing the men behind him to burst into the house unannounced where they shouted at those inside.
“Police! Put your hands up and get down on your knees or you will be fired upon!”
Shortly after shooting open the door, Erich found a small child who was quickly secured by one of the other men as he swept through the building with his submachine gun. All the while, the kid’s wailing echoed throughout the building.
“Mommy! Daddy! Help!”
Erich did not care in the slightest as he eventually found his target, and his wife, in their bedroom, huddled together in fear. Erich quickly shouted at the man in a concerned tone.
“Paul Singer! Drop the weapon! Now!”
This, of course, elicited confusion by the Marxist leader, and his wife, because neither of them were armed. And Erich had entered the room before any of his comrades could. Because of this, Paul made the mistake of opening his mouth.
“I–”
*bang bang bang*
Erich sprayed a burst of lead into the target’s chest, killing him on the spot as he fell against the wall, his blood staining the wallpaper behind him. The departed’s wife shrieked in horror as she watched her husband gunned down without cause in front of her. Only for Erich to smirk sadistically at the woman, as he aimed down the sights of his submachine gun and unloaded on her as well.
By the time the rest of his team entered the room, they were busy clearing the rest of the house, and ensuring that the leader of the SDP’s children was safely apprehended. They witnessed Erich standing there callously with a cigarette in his hand. The two deceased parents of the children they had just escorted out of the building were lying dead on the floor. The target had a revolver in his hand, while the man’s wife had a knife in hers.
Though the men knew exactly what had happened, they chose not to speak of it. Erich was a man known for a ruthless ferocity towards the enemies of the state. It was specifically why he was chosen to be the director of the Stasi.
The fact that he chose to come out on missions like this was simply because he personally liked to send Marxists like Paul Singer to Death’s embrace. And the man was very good at covering up his abuse of power.
The deaths of Paul Singer and his wife would be written off as an act of unlawful resistance against the proper authorities of the German Reich, and would be used publically as an excuse to disband the SDP and arrest its members for high treason.
Only a few individuals in the government would know that the deaths of Paul Singer and his wife, as well the disbanding of the SDB were premeditated, and carried out by Erich and his death squads, not under the orders of the Kaiser or his administration, but by Bruno himself.
Though the SDP’s public image had been thoroughly ruined as a result of Marxist atrocities in the east, Bruno would never allow them to grow and fester under the façade of being center-left. No, they had to be rooted out completely. And considering Erich’s loyalty to him, it was a simple matter to ask the man to abuse his authority as the Director of the Kaiser’s Secret Police on his behalf.
Not even the Kaiser, or the current Chancellor, would ever become aware that the downfall of the German Reich’s largest and most influential left wing party was deliberate, let alone a product of a Machiavellian plot orchestrated by their most talented general.
In fact, nobody would ever believe it, as Bruno was sleeping peacefully in his own home, while his orders were being conducted by his close friend and personal attack dog. After all, men like Erich, whose sense of empathy and compassion had been entirely eroded by the horrors of wars, had their uses. But they needed to be kept on a tight leash.
And the holder of this leash was not Wilhelm, but Bruno. Despite the fact that Erich was operating as the Director of the Kaiser’s Secret Police.
