Chapter 113 Resolution

In the office, Alexander was doing small paperwork to pass the time. He had just finished the outline for creating a version of his Central Intelligence Agency that will prevent an event such as this if it ever comes in the future.

Finishing the current paperwork, Alexander took the last puff from a cigarette before crushing it in the ashtray. He scratched his chin, now covered in stubble from days without using a razor. A male family trait of the royal bloodline to inherit rapid facial hair growth for regal beards as Thomas soon discovered in Alexander’s memory.

The idea of the Central Intelligence Agency is simple: have agents working domestically and abroad and observe the scene and the politics unraveling in the host nation. If the development of the example state is perceived as a threat, the intelligence agency will act accordingly to protect the national security of the Ruthenia Empire.

The Ministry of Internal Affairs is doing a good job maintaining the peace Ruthenia has been enjoying since the day the Black Hand cells were flushed out of the land, now the only thing that is keeping them out is the constant vigilance of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The infamous terrorist organization will stop at nothing until they get what they wanted, and that is changing the world order.

They think that by removing the monarchy that had ruled the lands for over centuries, then true peace, freedom, and equality will follow. Alexander would say that they are delusional. The irony of preaching those ideals all the while committing acts destabilizing it. And when they get to power, they will forget everything that they’ve promised and carry on in their own selfish ways instead.

If they succeed. Then the whole country may be under their control, and the people will become puppets once more. They may still keep some semblance of democracy, but most of the populace would be slaves to the whims of whoever is the head of the Black Hand.

It will only work if the people are in a desperate state, where they have nothing to eat, or when they feel like they are abandoned. But not in Ruthenia, not when he is in charge. They must have been pissed off by him exterminating them and now they want revenge by using a third party that will make Ruthenia sweat.

Though he must admit, Ruthenia couldn’t win a decisive war with the Deutschland Empire, as they are the most technologically advanced in the military, though this is not him saying that technological superiority guaranteed victory but Ruthenia isn’t in a state of having a war with another nation for now.

It’s been almost a year since Alexander became the head-of-state and most of his plans are still under construction, having a conflict right now will be devastating to Ruthenia. Speaking of Black Hand, he must say that their plan of involving Ruthenia in military conflict with Deutschland is somewhat stupid.

Yes, they’d use his technology, the television, but surely there must be someone in their government smart enough that this is just a plain terror attack, not an attack by a state.

Deep in his thoughts, Alexander’s table vibrated as the telephone on it rang. Alexander quickly picked it up. “Hello?”

A man’s voice spoke on the other end.

“Your Majesty, we have an incoming call from Berlin, would you like me to patch it through?”

From Berlin? What does the Deutschland Empire want from him right now?

“Yes by all means,” Alexander responded, “Connect us immediately.”

Alexander sat in anticipation, the phone ringing again. It could be important, he knows there might have been a development, where the Deutschland government would probably demand an answer. What could it be, another explosion? Give him a break.

“Alexander! It’s me…the Kaiser,” Wilheim’s voice came from the phone. The line went quiet before continuing, ” I have something important I need to share with you.”

Alexander hummed a bit, trying to decide whether this is good or bad news. “What is it?”

“Well, our investigation team has contacted me just now, reporting that many of the televisions confiscated for public safety have been discovered to be heavily tampered with. This lead them to investigate the warehouses where the television sets are stored before distribution. They have found evidence that the warehouses are believed to have been breached or worse, infiltrated.”

“Breached? Infiltrated?” Alexander leaned forward on the desk, his interest piqued. “Who could’ve done that?”

It was a rhetorical question but still, Alexander wanted to hear his answer.

Wilheim sighed defeatedly before answering. “We think it’s the Black Hand…”

Upon hearing his word, Alexander wanted to laugh out loud and make a fool of his uncle, that this attack was obviously a terror attack, but he couldn’t do so. Still, thanks to that, he was able to heave a sigh of relief.

“That’s great!” Alexander exclaimed but suddenly realized his mistake. “I mean…it’s great that you’ve cleared us out of suspicion, that the Ruthenia Empire has nothing to do with the attack. I acknowledge the tragedy, no one wants that to happen except those dirty pests who call themselves Black Hand…”

“But still…we are continuing with our investigation into this matter. Now I called you because we have found that they did something out of ordinary on your television. The investigation team said that they laced it with a bomb that could be detonated remotely. I have the technical report and I believe your men will make better sense of it than I…”

“I understand, Your Majesty. The Imperial Dynamic Systems will do everything to help with the investigation. Now, if it’s the Black Hand, do you have any idea of where could they be?”

“We don’t know, we’re still looking…”

“Then may I suggest something, Your Majesty? This will help.”

“What is it?”

“Assuming that this a remote detonated bomb, they are likely using an ultra-high frequency to transmit radio waves to each bomb. Now, this ultra-high frequency needs to be set up on the roof, so look for a building that has a radio tower on top. Typically, a small radio tower has a range of 6 to 9 kilometers. This will narrow your search to a 9-kilometer radius with Berlin at its center. So everything inside within the radius could be one of the hiding spots of the Black Hand. Now we have shared this information with the Austrean Empire and they are finding them right now as we speak,” Alexander concluded.

“Wow…I do not know whether to be impressed or terrified by what you just told me. I’ll connect you with our investigation teams so you can relay to them what you just said.”

“Wait…Your Majesty, there’s something else I would like to ask of you.”

“. . .What is it?”, Kaiser Wilhelm furrowed his eyebrows as he readies to hear his cocky, but oddly intelligent, nephew.

“An immediate release of all Ruthenian citizens living in Berlin. And to those who were harmed and killed, we want the Deutschland Empire to acknowledge their misery and compensate the family…Now you might be saying I’m asking for too much but if you think about it, those people didn’t do anything wrong. The Black Hand used them. We can’t return the lives of those who have lost, but we can acknowledge it. We will do the same to your people who’ve lost their lives in the explosion.”

There was a silence on the telephone, then Wilheim replied, “I understand. I apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you…However, the scars caused will take a long time to heal among the Deutschland people, there will be discontentment and I will need your cooperation if the worse comes .”

Kaiser Wilhelm let it sit in with his nephew that not everything in life will go as planned. Even Alexander’s innocent introduction of a new entertainment device to the world and the televised coronation of Alexander have been both marred by hostile outside influences.

“My dear nephew…” Wilhelm continued the conversation

“I know it’s late and rather bad timing as it is…But I would like to congratulate you on your ascension to the throne, Your Majesty.”

After saying that, Wilheim hung up, Alexander stared blankly at his telephone. Does that mean this is settled? This tragedy that shook him to the core is finished?

Alexander collapses backward in his chair as he looks up at the ornate ceiling.

Breathing heavily as he felt a giant weight lift away from his shoulders.

‘Heavy indeed is the head that wears the crown.’, somewhere in his mind spoke.

“This is like a dream.”

***

While the issues of television terrorism have been partially resolved in Europa.

Things are starting to get rather nasty in the US.

As news of the incident flooded the airwaves and newspapers.

The extended sobriety of the US populace used to regular consumption of alcohol brought on by prohibition has some side effects.

Side effects like bad tempers and sudden racial hatred.

A man on a soapbox is now exhibiting said side effects with fantastic fanaticism.

“Hear me! Hear me! You all have heard and seen how those dirty Ruthenians are always drunk and have come to steal our jobs! But now they seek to steal our lives by planting bombs in our radios!”

The man gestured towards a crowd who has quickly gathered around him,

“They say they are men of God with their own orthodox church! Nay, I say! They brew and sold us hard liquor that ruined lives! They kill us with drink and now they kill us with bombs!”

The people among the crowd who somewhat agree with him on some of the immigrant Ruthenians are still seen drunk in the daytime or they are just competitive racists racing to try and hate every people on the planet including their own cousins. Especially those with blue hair.

“Should we, the people of the US, allow such barbarians to stay in our great nation?”

“. . .No!” some of the people yelled, having their reasons to kick out the Ruthenians.

“Should we let them kill us with liquor and bombs?”

“NO!”

This time a large amount of the crowd agrees. Nobody wants to be blown up by ruthenian terrorists.

“Then should we agree to kick them out ?”

“YES!”

The crowd roared, believing the end of their troubles by kicking out the Ruthenians.

“Then march with me! We will call the government to kick out the ruthless Ruthenians from our homes!”

And so the wheels of democracy revolve.