1980. General Hochstühl and Colonel Von Unterscheisse had yet to cede control of dual-facing legitimate and criminal organizations. Second generation Germans neared twenty-ninth birthdays. All four had proverbial fingers deeply rooted into each segment of Miami's power structure; legal, political, and social.
Shifting of society's consciousness away from God progressed unabated. Those who coveted money and power were susceptible; forgoing eternal existences in favor of the same families who controlled Hitler and Mussolini. Enough time passed for low-functioning hippies to mature into unwitting Nazi sympathizers. Reliance was placed on wayward souls who'd reached certain levels of success.
In the early morning hours of Christmas Eve 1979, Arnie McDermott, a Black man employed as a vice-president of a bank headquartered in Liberty City rode his motorcycle home. He'd just left a Christmas party held at the bank for executive officers. A teetotaler, the man did not drink and had no reason to fear for his life.
The Germans infiltrated the police union years earlier. Outsized contributions funded families of slain officers. Supplements to salaries of high-ranking cops doubled and tripled incomes.
Arnie was young and brash. He saw potential simmering in his community. All people needed was an opportunity. He'd known men from his grandfather's and father's generation who spoke proudly of how their community worked hard to close the wealth gap with those more fortunate.
Many nouveau-riche millionaires existed throughout the country. Several possessed the aptitude to secure printed money that sloshed through the economy since 1971's removal of the gold standard.
All of Arnie's bosses were older men who no longer possessed vim and vigor. Affecting change in their city rested with younger generations. Some thought their young protégé championed a fool's errand. Others hoped he to be the one capable of bringing prosperity to their community.
All encouraged success.
Hochstühl and Von Unterscheisse knew a man possessing such charisma influenced people. Both witnessed Hitler manipulate frenzied crowds. They witnessed the same quality in the young banker. Success was counter to the despair required to subdue populations.
That night irreparably harmed race relations in Miami.
Two squad cars held four policemen. They lay in wait for Arnie to leave the party. Opportunity and motive were manufactured by those possessing agendas beyond law enforcement.
The man brought his motorcycle to a stop at a red-light at the intersection of Northwest 22nd Avenue and Northwest 62nd Street. A legal right-hand turn was made. All blinkers and taillights functioned perfectly. There was no reason for officers to affect a traffic stop.
They did anyway.
When Arnie got off his motorcycle, he naturally stood beside the seat and lifted it to remove the motorcycle's registration.
All four officers exited patrol cars, and drew weapons. Each squatted into firing position; facing their mission's target.
Arnie threw up his hands. "I don't have a weapon. I was just getting my registration and insurance papers."
Officers relaxed defensive stances. The banker'd communicated quickly and clearly. Onlookers offered sympathetic witnesses. All four walked toward the banker. A quartet of individual minds calculated contingent measures.
Defenseless, Arnie smiled as cops closed the gap; encircling him. He held out his driver's license, registration, and insurance card. "Here."
Without saying a word, the officer who stood behind the motorcyclist struck a disabling blow with his nightstick; across the back of the man's head. The impact sent the banker to his knees. Falling further, he ended up face-down on the asphalt.
Flurries of strikes to the man's head and torso took the banker's life in short order.
The beating continued until all men became exhausted. Suppression of a threat was never a consideration.
Officers witnessed Arnie's skin turn pale. Each knew he was dead. Not one checked for a pulse. The senior officer strode calmly back to the squad car, and called for an ambulance. It was a dead-at-the-scene situation; no need to hurry and place citizens in danger.
Faux benevolence created a façade hiding true motives. It was incumbent upon the few who controlled the many to maintain illusions.
Officers feigned sympathy for the man who ostensibly lost control of his motorcycle, and died as a result of injuries.
Critical investigation ceased after initial inquiries.
The community, supported by a dozen witnesses, demanded a trial.
All four officers were tried at once. The Germans fully funded defenses through seemingly unlimited contributions to the Police Defense Fund.
Plausible was a union defending its members.
Questions were asked as to how the defense team was paid. Layers-upon-layers of corporations and subsidiaries made donations. Copious, small contributions aggregated into consequential and monopolistic circumstances. Jurors became tainted by cash.
Three days of rioting led to more deaths. All totaled eighteen people died in addition to Arnie McDermott. White men on their way home from fishing trips. A plumber in the area to work a job. Riots spread from Liberty City, into Black Grove, Overtown, and Brownsville. Everyone who died as a result were innocent; including the banker at the center of the firestorm.
All four Germans stood in executive offices of their warehouse building; safely away from the turmoil they stoked.
Into the distance the men witnessed black smoke resulting from riots. Celebratory shots of schnapps were consumed. Cheshire-cat-like grins resonated satisfaction within vapid men. Divide-and-conquer strategies wouldn't cease until they lost effect. The men were above the fray. Shadowy figures stayed that way; as would successive generations of mentally-ill offspring.