Both sides were preparing for a major zone of conflict to break out in the next few months. And it was universally understood by all the parties involved in the Great War that it would occur within the Alps. As Italy was the weakest link of those that remained at war with the Central Powers.
However, while minor skirmishes were occurring on the front lines that had held firm in a bloody stalemate for the course of a year, more intense engagements were occurring in the far east. The Royal Thai Army had joined with the Imperial Japanese Army to catch the British and French in the region off guard.
And were currently attacking French territories in South-East Asia from both sides. However, that was not the only theater of operations where war was being fought in the region. Within the Indian Subcontinent, a familiar face stood within the markets of Delhi.
His pale white skin and fire red hair were a dead giveaway to his foreign origins. Even so, he dressed in the attire of the locals while walking through the city streets. His ability to blend in with a foreign land, despite his obvious heritage being European, was truly commendable.
Maximilian even walked straight past the Soldiers of the British Raj, whose rifles were loaded, and slung around their backs. They did not think anything of this foreigner in a city filled with primarily locals.
After all, trade had recently been picking up as a result of the war. Whatever else may result from battle, it was always good for business. At least for certain countries, and because of this, more than a few foreigners were walking the streets of Delhi these days.
At least enough for it not to be suspicious. Because of this, agents of the German Reich could walk freely through its streets, and so long as they did not behave in overtly suspicious behavior, then they would not be stopped.
Maximilian, by now, had gotten quite accustomed to engaging in operations abroad on behalf of German Intelligence. He had facilitated the Arab Revolt and its success in the field against the Ottoman Empire, and now he was asked to do the same within the British Raj.
By now, the Ghadar Party and its more militant members had made their way to the Punjab region of India in the attempts to spark an armed rebellion against the British Raj. Their party was one primarily made of expatriates who wanted an independent India.
In Bruno’s past life, they had brokered agreements with the Germans in preparation for the Great War, and attempted to lead a mutiny against the British Army. One that, for various reasons failed to achieve its goals.
However, things were not the same as they once were. The Central Powers were winning to put it simply. Everyone knew it. And even minor powers like Thailand were taking up arms to join them in this fight against the Allies.
This made things easier for the Germans to manipulate within areas the British Empire and French Republic controlled. For example, as Maximilian walked down a narrow alleyway and found himself face to face with an aging and rickety door. He thought about what he carried in his ruck.
A large pack sat upon Maximilian’s back, one that had it been inspected by the British Troops he just passed by, would have resulted in his arrest, and probably execution as an agent of the German Crown.
But they had not done so, and thus he was able to knock in a specific pattern on the door, prompting it to open and in doing so, revealing a young boy whose face was concealed by a makeshift hood fashioned from an old burlap sack.
The boy took one look out the holes, which were poorly carved out of his hood, and was quick to speak to Maximilian in his native tongue. Something which dear old Max had spent enough time mastering to be conversational with the locals.
And as a result, he was able to reply with the proper response, permitting him entry into the building. Where once he had done so, he laid down his pack in front of the men gathered within. Many of which were military aged males.
Once he opened the pack to reveal several firearms, grenades, and cases full of munitions, the militants were quick to open their eyes wide in surprise. They did not expect the Germans to fulfill their promise.
But now that they had done so, the leader of this small cell of the Ghadar Party thanked Maximilian for his efforts before ushering him away. The conversation was brief and to the point, and Maximilian did not want to stick around long enough to find out what these men were going to use these weapons for, or how they would go about it.
His job was simply to coordinate between the various cells spread across the Punjab region of India, and the task the main party had given him was to bring the weapons to these men, along with a small slip of paper which he had handed them.
Whatever they were supposed to do was on this paper, and that was all Maximilian needed to know. Thus he departed without saying another word after completing his task, and returned to the main Party, or their host, where he would coordinate between them and the German Reich on the rebellion that was about to kick off within the Indian Subcontinent.
A rebellion that would start with the execution of a high-ranking military officer loyal to the British Crown followed by a major mutiny, one that would inspire others to take up arms and fight for their independence.
The tides of war were ever changing, and the victories gained by the Central Powers had begun to inspire the rebellious populations beneath the British and French Crown to throw of the yoke of their masters, and fight for their own sovereignty.
And, of course, Germany would facilitate these independence movements, as they had done in the Levant, and as they were now doing in India.