Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread III

Part 151, Chapter 2755
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Fifty-Five



29th January 1979

Mitte, Berlin

The University Clinic was not a part of the urban campus that Nan was too familiar with. Normally she spent her time in the Humanities Department where she was doing Romance Studies, something that had been incredibly useful now that she was spending a lot of time in Rome.

When Nan had been discovered as a child she had been subjected to all manner of medical tests and vaccinations, leaving her with a deep suspicion of Doctors and medicine. Her adoptive mother, Charlotte, had been after her to get a full medical checkup and the University had been perfectly happy to oblige a couple weeks earlier. So much about her was a blank slate and she had no family history to go off of. At Charlotte’s urging, the Clinic had pulled out all the stops to learn more. Now, a couple weeks later Nan had been called back in and was sitting in a Doctor’s office silently dreading what the Doctor might have to say.

It being midwinter it felt like the rooms of the hospital were either too hot or too cold and the smells… It was all very terrible. Sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair, Nan imagined where she would prefer to be. Behind the control of an airplane, sleeping in her bed, or even listening to Nella telling Nan all about the children she had spent her day with. With aspirations of becoming a School Teacher, Nella had been working in a Kindergarten where children were expected to learn through playing. Apparently the children who Nella led in that loved her. Nan had a hard time imagining that, unfortunately she had mentioned that to Charlotte and had been reminded that part of her problem was that Nan’s childhood had been so incredibly bleak, even if she’d had no idea that things should have been any different. Just playing with other children had been totally foreign to her when she had first been with her adopted family.

“Sorry to keep you waiting Miss Pfenning, or do you prefer Annett?” The Doctor, a middle-aged man with a nervous demeanor asked in an English accent as he was entering the office, “My understanding is that you speak English. If we can have this conversation in that, it would be helpful. My German is quite terrible.”

“I suppose that would be alright” Nan replied in English. She had heard how he had had mangled her name. “And just who are you?”

“How rude of me, I am Doctor Walker and for the last several years I have been at the forefront of the exciting field of Genetics” The Doctor said, with that sounding like a well-practiced sales pitch. “An endowment by your family paid for me to bring my expertise to the Charité and your Mother asked me to take a special look at your case.”

“And?” Nan asked.

“It seems that there is an intriguing mystery surrounding you” Doctor Walker answered, “You mother told me all about it. How you spent years as the prisoner of a lunatic and was orphaned at an early age. That really sounds distressing.”

Nan really wished that Charlotte had not told a total stranger about her history however incomplete the telling had been. Doctor Walker didn’t seem like he was an idiot, and it wouldn’t be too hard to connect the dots. So far, her personal privacy had mostly been respected and few people knew that she was Child Six. The more people who knew that the more likely it becoming common knowledge became.

“If you could please tell me why you asked me to come here this morning” Nan said.

“Yes” Doctor Walker replied with a smile, “The people are very direct here in Germany, right to the point.”

As she watched, Doctor Walker pulled several folders out of his desk drawer. Opening one of them, there were graphs with numbers that meant nothing to Nan.

“As best as science can tell, this is who you are Miss Pfenning” Doctor Walker said, “From a genetic standpoint, that is.”

“I see” Nan said, not wanting to admit that she didn’t really understand.

“All the little things like your height for example, or your hair and eye color are represented in these numbers” Doctor Walker said. And Nan almost got up and walked out of the office when he said that. She had heard all about her father’s journals. His twisted ideology and his understanding of a field not unlike the one that Doctor Walker was in, just baser and cruder with massive amounts of chauvinism thrown in. One of his obsessions revolved around those he regarded as pure Germans. Nan saw the result of that every time she saw her face in a reflection.

“That is a sore subject for me” Nan snapped without elaborating.

Doctor Walker just staired at her for a long moment before opening a second and third folder.

“This was from a sample saved from your biological mother’s autopsy” Doctor Walker said, “I know that this part might be difficult for you Miss Pfenning, but it is what your mother asked me to do.”

Nan looked at the graphs, just bars of numbers. Some of it was color coded, most in black and white.

“This shows that you are directly related to her, Alina Pfenning, as her daughter” Doctor Walker said, “Hardly a surprise I suppose.”

Nan just staired at the folder. The last minutes of her mother’s life were burned forever into her memory. The idea that bits of her had been kept was appalling. Yet the confirmation of their kinship meant a lot to Nan.

“This one was a bit of a surprise though” Doctor Walker said opening another folder. “It seems that the man long assumed to be your biological father is of no relation to you.”

“What?” Nan asked.

“This man, uhm…” Doctor Walker replied looking at the sheet of paper from the folder. “This says here that it was basically impossible for Heinrich Himmler to have been your father.”

Doctor Walker pointed at something on the page.

Nan knew that her face didn’t have the pinched, constipated look that that her father… Nan figured that she wouldn’t have to think of him that way ever again, and Gudrun had always seemed to have. This explained that. While Nan still had questions, knowing that she had no actual connections to those people was a relief.
 
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What this means is Nan should be feeling a great sense of freedom now that she knows that The Chicken Farmer has no part of her genetics, and along side of knowing her true birthday, Nan is well on her way claiming to be her own person and not that monster that held her and her mother prisoner.
 
Part 152, Chapter 2756
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Fifty-Six



2nd February 1979

Tempelhof, Berlin

It seemed appropriate that Kat’s left ear was bothering her more than normal today. She had informed her Aide and Personal Secretary to inform the rest of her staff that she was not to be bothered by anyone, that went double for the press who loved to pester her every year in the days leading up to the anniversary of the Reichstag bombing. After so many years the rest of the world seemed to have moved on, not the press though. They always ran with that lurid story about how Kat had almost stopped that disaster and that photograph of her clinging to Hans. A thousand kilos of explosives intended to destroy ships at sea tended to have that effect. The only miracle there was that Kat and Augustus Lang had survived the blast.

There was also the production companies that had approached her again and again over the years. They were offering her anything she wanted that they had the power to give to sell them the rights to her story. Kat had told them no again and again. Money didn’t interest her, and she didn’t even want to think about who they would cast as her. If they wanted to do a biography of her after she was gone, that wouldn’t be her problem, but they would not be making it while Kat still had a breath in her body. She had seen how there had been dramas made where someone resembling her was present in the periphery with everyone knowing who it was supposed to be. Kat found the shrewish, or worse haunted, figure they had depicted her as to be nauseating. She had seen how Sally Field had been cast to play Kristina von Preussen in that movie about how she had walked out of Patagonia. Seriously? What were they thinking? While the American Actress could sort of look the part with a pair of glasses and the extensive use of a curling iron, nothing else about her resembled Kiki. That was the last thing that Kat wanted to see for herself.

With that, the phone rang. Kat could see that it was to line 4 and only a few people had the number. All of them were people who she couldn’t ignore. Picking up the phone, Kat was annoyed as she said “Yes” into the receiver.

“I am happy to hear you too Katherine” Doctor Peter Holz replied, “Please tell me that you at least got out of bed today.”

“I’m in my home office” Kat said, “Not that I am actually doing much business today.”

“The business of running a City-State as a Constitutional Monarch?” Peter asked, “Not opening any supermarkets or office towers today?”

“It is a bit different when you own the ground those supermarkets and office towers sit on. Having the entire State Government and the Captains of Industry lining up to kiss your ass” Kat replied. It was something that she had explained to Peter many times. There was power in owning property. She owned a large portion of Berlin having bought it after the end of the Soviet War when much of the city was still in ruins that would need years to fully repair for a fraction of what it would eventually be worth. There were also the Tempelhof and Tegel land deals as the airports built on them were decommissioned where Kat had been one of the largest investors in both projects. The Universities of Berlin had proven to be extremely good tenants.

“Your humility has always been the part of you that I found most endearing” Peter said.

“What do you really want Peter?” Kat asked.

“I was just calling to check up on a patient who I know finds today difficult” Peter replied.

“You retired” Kat said. Peter Holz had been one of the foremost experts in the field of Traumatic Stress even prior to the Second World War having worked with Veterans of the First World War. During and after the Second World War his services had been in extremely high demand. Kat had become one of his patients after that unfortunate incident where she fell into the River Spee following the Reichstag bombing.

“From General Practice, yes” Peter replied, “But I still keep busy as a consultant. Particularly challenging cases for me, though the particulars would probably bore you to death.”

Kat knew that Peter took patient confidentiality extremely seriously. He had often used a turn of phrase like that when he couldn’t talk about what he was working on. Kat knew not to press it.

“I see” Kat said.

“I want to hear how you are doing” Peter said, “Are you and Tatiana still not on speaking terms?”

“I don’t know” Kat replied, “She is working in Washington D.C. these days and I understand that despite a few hiccups last summer Tatiana is doing well. It’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call her.”

“Have you tried?” Peter asked.

Kat didn’t answer that question, knowing full well that she was answering the question in the process. Peter was annoying like that. Able to read between the lines.

“And your other children?”

“I’m worried about Malcolm, he wants to climb this mountain in a remote corner of India next year that has an evil reputation” Kat replied, “Marie fainted in the Winter Residence, which I am sure that you heard about. I got Fianna Dunn and Jack Kennedy to agree to get her to take care of herself. We’ll see if that works.”

Kat heard Peter chuckle.

“What is so funny about that?” Kat asked.

“That your children turned out a lot like you” Peter replied.
 
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This being the 40th anniversary of the Reichstag Bombing, it is both surprising that a bigger deal of it wasn't made, and not so surprising given who the Prefect of Berlin is.
Over the years as more and more survivors die, the direct connection between the people and the event becomes more distant, and by now more people are feeling more "Inconvenienced" by remembrance of the Day by interrupting whatever they are doing at 1500 Hours to do a Two-Minute Silence with church bells peeling in the background.
Ironically, as more survivors of the bombing die off over the years, the more that Kat's role is held in importance.
This also means that in the future only on milestone anniversary dates like the 50th, 75th, and the 100th will get the big remembrance ceremonies.
 
Part 152, Chapter 2757
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Fifty-Seven



4th February 1979

Mitte, Berlin

It was Sunday morning and all that was left of the weekend was the long trip back to Tzschocha. Gretchen was not looking forward to that part. There was the trip itself, long hours on the train to Görlitz and then more time spent on a bus. Finally there would come getting back to the school itself. The staff was always on the lookout for them trying to bring back any sort of contraband.

It seemed strange to Gretchen as she had written at length in her latest letter to Erich. How the Tzschocha Gymnasia was encouraging girls in her class to travel to Berlin on the weekends for the Winter Social Season. She understood that it was for the same reasons that Gretchen and Eddi had been encouraged to attend formal dances at Wahlstatt when they had been younger, so that young Ladies could meet boys of the same social standing. For Gretchen that would have meant dancing with Sabastian and Niko, which would have been painfully awkward for a lot of different reasons. She remembered that she’d had a schoolgirl’s crush on Niko, to the point of being eaten up jealousy when she had seen his reaction when he had first met Monique Chanson. Sabastian was her older brother, so of course it would be awkward mostly because he still treated her like if she was still a small child.

Gretchen had actually attended the Wahlstatt Institute for a year before figuring out that it wasn’t a good fit and had received a different sort of encouragement, namely, to leave. She had then attended a Liberal Gymnasia in Berlin with a strong focus on Academics. There was an American term that she had heard, latchkey kid, used to describe her situation. Gretchen had managed to mess that arrangement up and had been sent to Tzschocha where a close eye could be kept on her and that meant attending school with her sister Anna. It wasn’t entirely bad though. She had met Mathilda Auer and Edmée Adenauer. Joining their little found family with their shared dislike of Anna and her friends had been happy coincidence. The fact that they all knew Nella and Nan, the two youngest daughters of the Hohenzollern Family and had been invited into their circle of friends.

Still, Gretchen was noticing that her friends were sort of odd at times. Sophie and Nan were extremely close, Nella said that it was because they shared the bond of having had miserable childhoods. Nan had been celebrating her liberation having learned that the man she had thought was her father, wasn’t. That seemed like an odd thing to celebrate, but as Nella had pointed out to Gretchen, their parents were generally good people. Sophie and Nan had not been as fortunate. Nella said Nan had thought that she was a direct relation to a real monster, so bad that she preferred being illegitimate. She knew that Nan had been adopted by Nalla’s family, she just had never heard any of the backstory. How bad could it possibly be?

All of that had been discussed at length on a lazy Sunday morning. They had all been invited to another social event the night before, one where it was regarded as important for Nella to attend as a representative of her family who still resided in Berlin. The rest of them had been along as moral support. Gretchen had no idea that Craft Guilds were still a thing but had found the evening pleasant, even if that had involved spending the evening talking about Metalwork, Carpentry, and Basketweaving, among other things. It seemed that there was a serious movement to revive what were regarded as lost industries. One question that had been asked was what Gretchen’s plans were for Carnival? The last Tuesday of February this year was going to be the last big party that would mark the end of the Winter Social Season. Gretchen had not even thought about that until it had been brought up. Gretchen’s father had been raised Catholic even if he saw religion as something of a joke and her mother was sort of agnostic. She said she had never liked the organized part of organized religion. Gretchen supposed that it was a big deal but had written in her letter to Erich about how it didn’t feel that way to her. There didn’t need to be too much of an excuse for the people in Berlin to throw a party and she had lived in the city for most of her life. So the prospect of that left her a bit cold. She just hoped that her friends understood if she told them she wasn’t interested.



Dublin, Ireland

Did anyone really know Marie Alexandra?

That was the central question that Jackie had been pondering since she had moved in with the German Princess. Marie was painfully shy, but loved to talk to people from other countries when she met them in the many languages she was at least conversant in. There was also the ways she radically changed her appearance, frequently several times in the course of a day. Jackie had realized that she could easily walk right past Marie on the street and not recognize her.

At the same time, there was how Marie dressed when she was just in the apartment they now shared. On weekends, Marie might not even get dressed, wearing those faded plaid flannel nightgowns all day. The rest of the time it was a red sweatshirt with the logo for McGill University across the front of it and old blue jeans with the knees torn out. Jackie could see that red looked terrible on Marie. With how she carefully constructed her appearance, was that also a disguise aimed at Jackie? There was simple no way to answer that question.
 
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I wonder if there is a women’s athletic club in Dublin that Marie can join?
To me, it seems that Marie was most comfortable with herself at the women’s club in Montreal, and it allowed her to become closer to Henrietta.
Having such a club available to Marie will also allow her to bond with Jackie and relax from all the pressure Marie has been putting herself under.

Every time I see the ITTL Jackie Kennedy mentioned, I get a little laugh wondering what happened to the IOTL Jacqueline Bouvier ITTL, as she was practically raised and educated to be “A Rich Man’s Wife” and nothing really practical except she did win an Junior Editor position at New York Vogue magazine and it would be funny if she became the ITTL’s Anna Wintour before the IOTL Anna Wintour.
 
Part 152, Chapter 2758
Chapter Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Fifty-Eight



8th February 1979

Dublin, Ireland

Ed could think of a lot of places he would rather be. The US Department of Justice was trying to collect an American, an alleged bank robber, who had fled to Ireland one step ahead of the FBI and New York City Police. Someone had tipped off the Justice Department, supposedly a girlfriend who had found out about the scumbag’s wife back in New York, and the Garda had picked him up. That part was simple enough. It was then that the Extradition process had gotten tricky. It seemed that the Irish Government was not particularly thrilled with some of the aspects of American Law and had made the treatment of the scumbag during the trial and in whatever came afterwards a big deal.

A big part of this mess was a Defense Lawyer who was extremely well known to the Irish cops and Prosecutors as someone whose very presence could ruin your day, John Kennedy. Ed had occasionally encountered Kennedy professionally and that had not been a fun experience. Somewhat to Ed’s surprise, Kennedy was American by birth, but had immigrated with his family back to Ireland in the ‘30s and was the older brother of Edward Kennedy, a prominent Irish Politician. Ed had been unable to figure out if that information was useful at all. So far it hadn’t been. The Judge assigned to this case had basically implied to Walt Johnson, the Legal Attaché from the US Embassy, that they needed to come up with a deal themselves before this case got any more political. Then Ed and Jimmy ended up on an elevator with Kennedy, an unfortunate coincidence that wasn’t comfortable for any of them.

“My client is understandably worried about how he has the State of New York and the Federal Government against him, he won’t get a fair shake” Kennedy said.

“He should have thought about that before he fled to Ireland after gunning down a security guard in a botched robbery” Jimmy said, only to have Kennedy hold up one finger.

“Alleged” Kennedy replied, “This is exactly the sort of thing that that my client is concerned about.”

While Jimmy Hovanesian had come a long way in the year and a half that Ed had worked with him, he still tended to run his mouth at the wrong times. With someone as slick as Kennedy, that could easily prove disastrous. The last thing they needed was Kennedy arguing to the Judge that Jimmy’s attitude was representative of not only the FBI, but the entire Justice system back home.

“What my partner is trying to say is that Mr. Donnel is accused of some very serious crimes” Ed said, “It is everyone’s interest to keep proceedings fair and impartial.”

Both Jimmy and Kennedy gave Ed a look that said “Bullshit.” Mercifully, the doors of the elevator slid open. In the lobby of the Courthouse a young woman, late teens, or early twenties, if Ed had to guess, who was conservatively dressed was waiting, Ed could see that she had the combination of long red hair that hung nearly to her waist and blue eyes that was rare pretty much everywhere but Ireland. She said something to Kennedy in what Ed recognized as Gaeilge, the native language of Ireland that the Government had been pushing for decades as in their desire to erase the remaining signs of the English occupation from their culture. Ed had been forced to listen to many long-winded stories in that frustrating tongue as the subjects of investigations delighted in stymieing his efforts. Despite living and working in Ireland for years now, he was lucky if he could pick up even every third word. It was something that he would not miss about this country.

Kennedy laughed at something the girl said before turning to Ed and Jimmy, “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve invited Máire Alastríona Coilldubh, my young Protégée to lunch and you two are not invited” He said, “So good day Mr. O’Neill.” He rather pointedly ignored Jimmy. Ed only hoped that Jimmy wouldn’t take the bait in what was an obvious trap, fortunately he did this time.

“Mentoring her must be a real hardship” Billy said as they watched John Kennedy chatting with the girl as they walked off. Ed wasn’t about to disagree with Jimmy on that score.

Ed just shrugged.

For all he knew John Kennedy was telling the truth about being the girl’s mentor, however he had read Kennedy’s FBI file. Former US Navy ONI, which he had left for reasons that the Navy and US Government had not included for some reason. He had fought with the Irish International Regiment against the Russians. in the Soviet War. Supposedly Kennedy had been a real tomcat back in the day. So it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise for Ed if he eventually learned that the relationship wasn’t wholesome.

“Rich guys get all the perks” Ed replied.

With that, Walt Johnson walked out of the elevator.

“Happy to be back in the courtroom, Sir?” Jimmy asked.

“I was in Probate Law and Estate Planning in Southern California before the friend of a friend talked me into taking this job as a second act” Walt replied, “Fleeing criminals, Gangsters, the remnants of the IRA and Orangemen acting like it is still 1916. It is far more than I bargained for.”

“Too much excitement?” Ed asked.

“Sometimes, perhaps” Walt said, “But I think that when the new Administration comes in and I can finally go home, I’ll miss it.”

“You hadn’t heard” Jimmy asked, “There is a move on to get Dick Nixon to run for reelection next year.”

The look that Walt gave Jimmy suggested that was something else he had not bargained for.
 
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Jack is having both a laugh at the FBI and protecting Marie by using the Galic translation for her middle and last names.

It seems the “spontaneous” grassroots movement by “Leading Citizens” to “convince” President Nixon to run for a third term is picking up steam.
 
I was wondering if anyone would pick up on that.
To Be Fair, How many young women are there in Dublin with red hair and blue eyes that are hanging out with Jack Kennedy?
Also, there hasn’t been any updates about Marie being followed by other nations intelligence agencies, so does that mean that Jack got some of his less respectable clients to discourage them?
 
She said something to Kennedy in what Ed recognized as Gaeilge, the native language of Ireland that the Government had been pushing for decades as in their desire to erase the remaining signs of the English occupation from their culture.
To any Irish government I have only two words to your efforts.

Good luck.

The sheer scale of devastation to the ability to speak the language by the <s>Genocide</s> Famine would be a near insurmountable mountain to overcome under the best of circumstances. The Gaelic revival would have helped, and presumably gotten a second wind, but you'd still need to have the powers that be learn the lessons from trying to reintroduce it that they refused to learn OTL. Mainly that failing to pick a distinct dialect (instead allowing wild fluctuations between Munster, Connacht and Donegal), overwhelming hostility to loan words for a very long time (ask an Irish person over 50 what a car is and they will give you a different answer to anyone younger), inability to recognize the existence of Leinster Gaeilge (with Leinster being the largest province by population) and, of course, leaving the actual educating of the language up to the highly devolved education standards brought about by the total governmental inability to actually police the education sector in favor of offloading it to the various Orders to manage instead. Throw in the fact that there is going to be a very vocal minority that will be adamantly opposed to such a move in the form of Unionists from all over the country, and they are going to need all the luck they can get.

Then of course there is the lack of universal type usage and dogmatic usage of Cló Gaelach, until again very recently, that made it difficult for people to even be able to read the damn thing in the first place. As well as the fact the language of all government organs in Ireland was, well, English.
 
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Random Thoughts from the Emerald Islands:
Marie is enrolled at Trinity under the name of Marie Alastriona Coilldubh as a way to throw off any interested parties.
If the IOTL Jewish settlers in the Palestine Mandate can modernize and revie the Hebrew language in the late 19th Century, then an effort to modernize and standardize the Gaelic language under the ITTL leadership of Michael Collins is not that far of a stretch.
In any case English and Gaelic are the official languages of Ireland, and if you want to get far in the Irish Civil Service, being fluent in Gaelic is a must.
After a bit of Song and Dance by the Irish and American Governments, our alleged bank robber is going to be sent back to the United States as Ireland does not want to be known as a haven for violent criminals.
 
If the IOTL Jewish settlers in the Palestine Mandate can modernize and revie the Hebrew language in the late 19th Century, then an effort to modernize and standardize the Gaelic language under the ITTL leadership of Michael Collins is not that far of a stretch.
(sorry, the failures towards the teaching of Irish is an area of interest to me to an unreasonable degree so I have Opinions on the matter)

The revival of the Hebrew languages actually used the teaching of the Irish language as examples of "What Not To Do". Same as the Welsh revival. The main takeaways were similar to what I highlighted above, mainly needing to pick one distinct dialect and stick to it. Though there are also additional politics at play with regards to revival of Hebrew to do with the desire to shut out Yiddish as it was viewed as being mainly used by people who weren't necessarily onboard with the idea of Israel as a running concern (but I will leave that there as while that's historical fact, it also leads into topics that are very much left to Pol Chat).
In any case English and Gaelic are the official languages of Ireland, and if you want to get far in the Irish Civil Service, being fluent in Gaelic is a must.
It is a requirement, OTL, that any TD must be able to speak in Irish. I'm waiting for the day that requirement gets thrown out due to it being inherently discriminatory towards the citizens of Ireland who, through a century and change of government mismanagement, simply can not speak it. Especially as if you can receive an exception to Irish language lessons in school due to developmental issues, and in theory could get elected to the Dail, it is possible you may not have had a single day of Irish language lessons in your life.
After a bit of Song and Dance by the Irish and American Governments, our alleged bank robber is going to be sent back to the United States as Ireland does not want to be known as a haven for violent criminals.
Ireland also doesn't want to establish a precedent for deporting criminals who are liable to be killed in the country they are deported to. Easiest way for the US government to get him is for the Death Penalty to not be on the table.
 
Ireland also doesn't want to establish a precedent for deporting criminals who are liable to be killed in the country they are deported to. Easiest way for the US government to get him is for the Death Penalty to not be on the table.
There are so many different ways for this to be solved.
The Request for Extradition is amended in which the murder charges are dropped from the request and because of that our alleged bank robber is deported only to have the murder charges reinstated.
Another way is this isn't the first time that our alleged bank robber has committed a crime, and if he is on probation, both the Federal government and the State of New York drop all indictments and withdraw the extradition request and Ireland then deports him for being an Undesirable Alien and then he is arrested when he steps back on US soil.
From what I understand of Irish law (which is very little) is that Ireland is a "Four Edges of the Paper" instead of "The Spirit of the Law" which means only arguments based on what is actually submitted and not what are the possibilities could be, so if the extradition request is amended to not include charges that would lead to the Death Penalty, then that is the only thing to be considered by the court, and not whether our alleged bank robber would face charges that would include the death penalty.
 
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There are so many different ways for this to be solved.
The Request for Extradition is amended in which the murder charges are dropped from the request and because of that our alleged bank robber is deported only to have the murder charges reinstated.
Another way is this isn't the first time that our alleged bank robber has committed a crime, and if he is on probation, both the Federal government and the State of New York drop all indictments and withdraw the extradition request and Ireland then deports him for being an Undesirable Alien and then he is arrested when he steps back on US soil.
From what I understand of Irish law (which is very little) is that Ireland is a "Four Edges of the Paper" instead of "The Spirit of the Law" which means only arguments based on what is actually submitted and not what are the possibilities could be, so if the extradition request is amended to not include charges that would lead to the Death Penalty, then that is the only thing to be considered by the court, and not whether our alleged bank robber would face charges that would include the death penalty.
The problem is, doing that way will allow it to work exactly once. Irish Law is indeed very much "law as is written" over "law as intended", so yes, if the US government says it is off the table the legal system in Ireland will assume the Americans will keep their word and act in such faith, no matter what evidence is given to the contrary, as it is required to accept that if the US government gives its assurance, then it is the supreme authority to act with such agency.

However, if our friendly criminal gets sent back with the assurance of no Death Penalty, and then the US decides it will anyway (let's say the case catches the media attention and pressure from the President not wanting to look weak on crime in an election year leads to it having to be applied) then the Irish government, and more seriously the Irish courts system, will be embarrassed on the international stage. The former can grin and bare it (they often do but again, that's Pol territory) but the latter do not take being made fools of lightly. Expect at the very least a incredibly targeted and intense lobbying effort for a new law to be brought in preventing extradition to the US when the criminal in question may face the Death Penalty, allowing only for cases that criminals can be sent back to the US still, but only to States where they will not face execution and never for a federal crime that carries the death penalty.

Will piss off a lot of people, but funnily enough Ireland has a bit of a history about dealing with Perfidious neighbors and enacting our vengeance through being very annoying.
 
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