As I thought, as they moved on, the family was fleeing to West Germany. I hoped they made it.
This was Thursday. I thought about trying to push through to Potsdam and doing the deed tomorrow morning.
After thinking about it, I decided to stick to my original plan. I needed time to scope out the area. Taking advantage of the ride was good, but I couldn’t let it weaken my overall plan. I had the time.
Based on that I walked another ten miles and started to hunt for a place to spend the night. I was tempted by an abandoned farmhouse, but who knew what went on during the night.
Instead, I picked a spot under one of the dependable fir trees. I decided this far in to keep a cold camp, no fire. I would miss the coffee in the morning but I didn’t want any wood smoke in the area.
It was a good thing as during the night I heard vehicles moving. They were unloading something at that abandoned farmhouse. There were guards patrolling the area but they stuck close to the trucks and building.
They left and in about an hour another group showed up and collected whatever had been unloaded.
I was then able to get to sleep until daybreak. After taking a good look around I checked out the farmhouse to see if I could get an idea of what had been going on.
There was a carton of Lucky Strikes on the ground. Apparently, this was an exchange point for a cigarette smuggling organization. I made a note on my location as best as I could. I would have it passed on to MI6. They may be able to use this information.
It was an easy walk to the edge of Potsdam. From there I worked my way around to Herr Konig's farmhouse.
I found a good hiding place to set up camp about a mile away. I then crept closer to the house to spy out what I could. Nothing was happening until six o’clock, right on schedule Herr Konig arrived home.
He had a driver and a guard. They were the other two guys from the bridge. What luck, I then retreated to my hidden camp and spent the night.
On Saturday there were people coming and going all day. It was a catering service doing set up on the lawn. They were pitching tents and setting up chairs. A small bandstand was erected. He must be having a party Saturday night.
I watched from a distance that evening as his guests arrived. With them were guards with Doberman pinchers. They set out on a patrol around the house.
They only came out about twenty-five yards from the house. I was the better part of two hundred yards away so I felt safe. The wind was blowing toward me so the dogs shouldn’t get my scent.
It was still daylight as the guests arrived so I didn’t have to worry about a flash. If it was dark I wouldn’t have been able to take any pictures. The guest congregated and talked.
Just before dark, a speech was made by a fat guy and then an award was presented to Herr Konig. After that, a small band played polka music. All in all, it looked like a fun party.
One note that all wasn’t right in Herr Konig’s world was a side meeting between him and the fat guy. They had moved away from the party but still were in my camera range so I snapped away.
Herr Konig told the fat guy something and the fat guy went ballistic. Konig held his hands out as though he was trying to placate him, but the fat guy wasn’t having it.
I have no idea what it was about but I don’t think it was career-enhancing for Konig.
I retreated to my hideout and had a good night's sleep. Sunday Konig left his house. It appeared no one was home. I waited for several hours and then walked up to the house. I then paced off the distance from where the car would pick him up to my shooting spot.
I was shooting from a slight rise. It had enough of a drop behind it that I could be out of sight in seconds. My intention was to take my shot, duck back out of sight. Wait a few moments then check on my targets.
I then went deeper into the woods until I came across an open field. I paced off the same distance as my shot, then left a large branch as a target. I then proceeded to spend half an hour practicing at the exact distance.
I had another cold camp and settled in for the night. At daybreak on Monday, I was awake and ready to go. Of course, I had to wait another two hours until I heard his transportation show up.
My last thoughts as I was getting ready was that some would look at this as first-degree murder. I certainly had shown up with a plan to kill Herr Konig.
I viewed myself as a soldier in a war I hadn’t started. I hadn’t started it but I was trying to finish it. Would these guys ever take a hint?
These thoughts flew through my mind as I drew my bow. The yard-long arrow had a war point, designed to penetrate and kill.
My shot was true taking Herr Konig in the center of his chest. I ducked back and nocked another arrow. I counted to five then raised back up.
The guard was out of the car and bending to Konig’s body. I let loose and hit him square in the back. This time I stayed
