1636： The Saxon Uprising ARC - By Eric Flint Page 0,118
seat next to the driver rode a very large bodyguard. “Riding shotgun,” the up-timers called it—and in this instance, the term was quite literal. The man was carrying an automatic shotgun and the prince had no doubt at all he was proficient in its use.
Probably more important, given that the principal response to any assassination attempt would surely be to race off, not stand and fight, the man was huge. An assassin firing from the front would have to shoot around him to have a chance of hitting Kristina. (Or Ulrik, but Kristina would be the real target of any would-be killer.) Shooting around that man to hit the princess would be a bit like trying to shoot a mouse behind an ox.
A shot from the rear would be difficult, and probably impossible. Someone had covered the rear window with a decorative banner, which prevented anyone from seeing into the vehicle from behind. And while he wasn’t certain, Ulrik was pretty sure there was a steel plate hidden within the banner. Even a blind shot wouldn’t penetrate.
That still left the side windows, but that was a very difficult shot to make. All the more difficult because Ulrik and Kristina were sandwiched in the middle of the back seat, with a man on either side. To their left, sitting next to Kristina, was the governor of Magdeburg province, Matthias Strigel. To their right, next to Ulrik, sat a man named Albert Bugenhagen. The prince had known he was the mayor of Hamburg, although he’d never met him before.
Ulrik was quite sure the men had been selected for two reasons. First, they held formal positions of government, they weren’t simply prominent figures in the Fourth of July Party or the Committees of Correspondence. Someone was being careful—thankfully—to maintain a necessary distance between the two royals and their real hosts. As much as possible, Kristina and Ulrik had to maintain a reasonably non-partisan public stance.
The second reason was even simpler. Both men were also very big, although not as enormous as the bodyguard up front. That made the seat very cramped. On the other hand, good luck to anyone trying to hit Kristina in the middle of all that beefy flesh.
So, Ulrik was in a good mood even before they came into Magdeburg. It was always a pleasure to deal with skill and competence.
He would always remember three things afterward about their procession through the city.
The first were the banners. They seemed to be everywhere. On every tower, on every roof-top, hanging from every window and balcony, and waved by seemingly every hand along the streets and in the square in front of the royal palace.
The flags came in all sizes, from a gigantic one draped down the side of an entire building to a multitude of small ones that could be held in one hand. But with very few exceptions, they only came in four types.
The first and most common was the official flag of the USE, with its crossed black bars on a red field. Along the two bars were golden stars representing the provinces of the nation, and at the center was the Swedish royal insignia from the lesser national coat of arms, three coronets under a royal crown. The colors throughout were the traditional German red, black and gold.
The second flag was the simple red-black-gold tricolor that had been informally adopted by the Committees of Correspondence. Sometimes the bars were horizontal, sometimes vertical. There was no official pattern since it was not an official flag to begin with. But it had becomes the recognized national symbol for those who advocated an outright republic.
The third flag was one Ulrik had never seen before—indeed, had never heard of before. It was the tricolor, but with the Swedish royal insignia at the center.
There were a lot of those. Not as many as the official flag but quite a few more than the common tricolor.
Finally, there was a banner. As with the tricolor, there was no set pattern, since these were quite obviously handmade. But the most common design had a red field, a black border all the way around—sometimes these were just two stripes—and a simple inscription in the center, written in gold: Long Live Kristina! Sometimes, Long Live Our Kristina!
Those were the princess’ favorites, of course.
The second thing he would always remember was his first sight of the Marine guard when they drew up before the royal palace. The sight was startling enough to drive him to blasphemy.