Saturday, November 2nd, 1935: London SW1

The German Embassy was located in Carlton House Terrace, just north of St James's Park. It was located in Prussia House, a merged pair of classical terraced houses built over a century previously.

Georgia Taylor had made her way with her group from Charing Cross tube and was now standing next to the Duke of York Column.

Looking at the building, Georgia saw something had changed. Instead of the red, white and black tricolour of Imperial Germany, what was flying from the flagpole on the roof was something different.

It had the same colours, but now a black swastika was in the white circle on a red background.

She gulped slightly.

"Well... Herr Hitler must be even more powerful than I thought. He's managed to make the Nazi Party flag the official national flag..."

Andrei's eyes narrow as he looks at the new flag, and his muscles tense a bit, but otherwise he retains his normal neutral expression.

"Perhaps it is for the best that the Circus Gleich no longer tours Germany," he says.  "Few of its members fit with Herr Hitler's ideals."

Jock noted the new German flag, but he didn't have anything in particular to say about it. He awaited Georgia's lead.

Georgia took a breath and then started to walk towards the entrance.

"The Ambassador here is an old Prussian civil servant and greatly respected here. Not an ardent Nazi. If I can get in to see him, we'll be in a lot better position for the trip to Germany."

They reached the entrance and walked into the reception area, where a dark-suited man with closely cropped hair was sitting in front of a book.

"Good morning", Georgia said, "We'd like to see the Ambassador please."

The man looked at her and replied with the clipped tones of a Nazi in a bad mood.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Er, no... but I'm sure that the Ambassador will be interested in our proposal for a press visit."

She indicated to Dick to take over the conversation here.

"Good afternoon, Mein Herr. My name is Richard Dixon, reporter for the Daily Mirror, the most popular and fastest-growing journal in the British Empire. As I'm sure you know, the Mirror has stood firmly alongside Sir Oswald Mosely and the BUF, the British Union of Fascists, for some time and, consconsequently, we are a great friend to the German Reich.

"My editor has sent me to represent the newspaper in an endeavour vital to your Reich and our own Empire. In short, he wishes for a party of our journalists, including myself and Miss Taylor here and our photographer --perhaps one or two others-- to spend a brief time in the vicinity of Breslau to report on the economic and societal wonders being performed there by the Reich government.

"Frankly, it is the intent of the Mirror to dispel the lurid propaganda of the opposition press that Germany is oppressing the workers there and instead paint a picture of the great strides being made in transforming the lot of the ordinary folk (or Volk, as you prefer) to bring them into a glorious new era."

He gives the man his most appealing smile.

"Now, do you think your ambassador would appreciate our plan?"
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"The Ambassador is in meetings all day," the receptionist said, "But I will find our Cultural Attache for you to see... please take a seat and wait."

Behind them were a bunch of chairs next to a table, where various books and magazines were placed. Georgia moved over and started to look through them.

Most of them were in German, but she found an English copy of the notorious antisemitic forgery that was The Protocols of Zion.

"Suggest we don't tell them we're bringing a Jew with us," she whispered to Dick.