Rolf Hartmann presided over the first unofficial function of what would eventually become his provisional government. Dressed in a dark suit, he stood on the balcony overlooking the main hall of his mountaintop estate in the outskirts of Berlin, several miles north of Christoff Deppe’s estate. The complex, built with security in mind, included laser fences, security Orbs, plus a small army of his own forces. Every possible measure was being taken to protect the life of the man destined to rule over the German people, at least until elections could be held later in the year.
His selected guests had started arriving in the morning, some by car, others by helicopter shuttle service, from Munich, Berlin, Frankfurt, Bonn, and other regions of the country to attend this emergency summit destined to shape the future of Germany.
Hartmann surveyed the crowd below drinking cocktails, representing his most loyal followers, many of them his personal friends for decades, including the top commanders of the Luftwaffe, the Deutsche Marine, and the Bundeswehr. But there were selected foreign dignitaries in attendance, the diplomats sent by the nations that CyberWerke had brought back from the brink of financial chaos into solvency through unprecedented injections of capital and industry, literally turning around countries long forgotten by the world, particularly in Africa, South America, and parts of Asia and the Middle East. He also saw his friends in the French, Italian, British, Russian, and Dutch governments. All of them had advanced politically and financially thanks to CyberWerke.
Unlike Adolf Hitler, whose downfall lay in his impatience, in his uncontrollable desire for immediate gratification through raw military muscle—as in his pigheaded decision to invade the Soviet Union—Hartmann used economic power and influence to buy the cooperation of other nations, including those in financial trouble like Russia, while building a new generation of nanoweapons that would render those of the enemy obsolete.
Nanoweapons.
Hartmann clasped the balcony’s wrought-iron railing, his mind momentarily drifting to the events following the well-orchestrated attack at USN. First the mobile assembler, the most advanced machine on the planet—and one that would allow him to close the nanotech gap—had escaped. Even Hans Goering’s attempt to recover it had met with disaster, resulting in the death of his chief of security.
Hartmann briefly closed his eyes in silent mourning for his old friend and partner.
But Hartmann didn’t have time to grieve. He had to remain focused, remain on top of the rapidly developing situation. His mind switched to the events unfolding in Paris. He made a mental note to find another ally inside the CIA to replace the incompetent Nathan Leyman, whose idea to use CIA resources to track down the elusive network created by Savage had backfired.
“It is finally happening, Rolf,” Christoff Deppe said while standing next to his lifelong friend.
“Indeed,” he said. “It is indeed happening in spite of our recent difficulties.”
Deppe, dressed in a perfectly tailored Italian double-breasted suit, smoothed his tie with two fingers while adding, “It will not get in the way of our plans. Rem will see to it that the rogue American operatives are silenced. What are your current thoughts on the loose machine?”
“My position remains the same since the other day. It’s an American machine. Let the Americans deal with it. By tomorrow the international team performing the autopsy will issue their report, stating that the nanoweapons used at the Reichstag were American made. If that rogue assembler causes problems, the Americans will also be blamed for it.”
“A distraction,” mumbled Deppe.
“Precisely. It will keep the Americans—and the world for that matter—distracted while we consolidate our plans.”