For King and Country

DW - Sah-weet, another Princess Bride fan! Are there anymore out there?


Okay friends, neighbors, readAARs and lurkers, the next part is up next. Honest!

OPERATION MERCURY - THE OUTCOME​

August 15, 1937
Buckingham Palace
London
Later afternoon

Waiting until the door clicked shut upon the departing steward who had just cleared away the tea set that had been set out for the King’s use, King George, Sovereign of the British Empire, looked pointedly at the Director of Imperial Intelligence, Prince George, Duke of Kent. “So what did Operation Mercury do to our Communist friends?”


“I’m going to separate this part into what Mercury accomplished in the Soviet Union and what Mercury working in conjunction with Operation Agincourt achieve in France.”


Taking yet another folder from his attaché case, the Empire’s head spy opened it slowly and cleared his throat before beginning. “Mercury in the Soviet Union was a torrid mess, I’m afraid, Albert. While we had very few agents in country to conduct the operation, we had a good number of contacts that jumped to the chance to assist in the distribution of Divini redemptoris , and unfortunately, the NKVD was quite efficient in squashing many of those cells that went over the top to conduct the operation. We were completely amazed that despite the harshness of the NKVD’s round up of people after the first round of distribution attempts, we still had many more cells of Russians who rose to the occasion and did what they could. I can only imagine what the meeting room was like when darling Nikoli Ivanovich had to inform Comrade Stalin that his all powerful NKVD was facing another round of distribution attempt of the encyclical.”

“Why would Yezhov risk his head by letting Stalin know his first attempt had failed,” the King asked his younger brother.

“Because even though Yezhov was director of the NKVD, there were many who had axes to grind with him and would have had no qualms about letting Stalin know about his failure,” the Prince replied. “In fact, that is what my lads and lasses over at IIO think occurred.”

“You said “was” director?”

“Aye,” Prince George replied with a cold and evil grin. “As I said, Mercury was a torrid mess, but not without some favorable results.”

“Don’t leave your brother and King in suspense, George,” the King chided as the Prince paused.

“Eh? Sorry,” Prince George replied with mock shame. “The good news out of the mess of Divini redemptoris, is two fold. First, the Russian Orthodox Church has agreed to meet and work with the Vatican on changing the political climate in Mother Russia. Secondly, Nikoli Ivanovich Yezhov was last officially seen headed to Comrade Stalin’s dacha outside Moscow. Unofficially, he was taken out into the woods by Stalin’s dacha and had a bullet placed in the back of his head by his own bodyguard.”

“This is the same Yezhov that planned the assassination of our brothers,” King George asked with a cold voice and an arched eyebrow as he recalled Operation Red Hammer.

“One in the same, Albert, one in the same,” came the cold response from his younger brother.

“Then I see no need to shed any tears, crocodile or not, do you?”

“None at all, brother, none at all. It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving bastard.”


Sharing a look of grim satisfaction for several seconds, the two brothers sighed heavily and pushing aside their private grief and bleak contentment moved on. “What of the bad news, George?”

Taking a sheet of paper from the folder in his lap, the Empire’s spy chief frowned. “The down side of Mercury is that we lost many, many operatives in the Soviet Union, some of them people deep inside the Communist machine. Mercury also happened to increase Stalin’s sense of paranoia, which resulted in Operative Order 00447, which authorized the immediate execution of 193,000 known gulag prisoners. And those are only the ones “acknowledged” by the regime, we really have no grasp of how many were executed that were only known to the NKVD.”

Clearly shocked by the numbers, the King asked softly, “Do you have even a rough idea of how many we are talking about here, George?”

Looking at his King and older brother, the Prince replied simply, “A very rough number would be somewhere between 250 and 300,000. But since we’re dealing with someone of Stalin’s deluded paranoia, my instincts are screaming that the number is far higher… and it’s a number that we’ll never, never truly know.”


“Dear God in Heaven, George,” the King replied with shocked horror, “I knew we were dealing with a brute, but this is almost inconceivable!”

“Do you want MI-6 to back off the pressure?”

Taking a few moments to consider the question, King George stood and walked to the room’s window that over looked the castle’s courtyard. “God help me, George, but no matter how many end up buried in unmarked graves, Communism and the monsters like Stalin that it breeds must be brought down. So to answer your question, no, keep the leashes off of MI-6’s other operations.”

“Very well, Your Majesty,” the King’s younger brother responded respectfully.

Regaining his seat and composing himself quickly, King George took a breath and asked, “Now, what about our French friends, little brother?”







Up next, the French impact

Nikolai - now, now, Stalin did know who his parents were and they were married, so he's technically not a "bastard", but I wholeheartedly agree with your sentiments!

GhostWriter - I agree with you. The only reason the world doesn't gripe more about Stalin is that most of the records of his slaughters where not as documented as Hitler's (IMHO). Also there was tendency that the executioners eventually followed the executed so that not only keep secrets but also increased the body count.

As for the King having a handle on the situation.... well, he does have some personal reasons for seeing the Reds brought down, don't he?

prussiablue - see Cloudyvorte's comments.

Cloudyvorte - I quite agree!

Vann - We can only hope so, we can only hope so! o





I'm almost shocked that no one shed any comments about poor old Yezhov, or was that just 'cause I did such a good job of making him utterly despised?

The next update is in it's final rough draft form so it should be up here soon.

I am glad that the readers of this forum are so well versed in the monsters of the era. You would be surprised by the number of people that I work with that think that it just a lot of propaganda.


Well folks... I'm working to get myself a couple of updates or more ahead of what I actually post so that I can start getting this train rolling. Mayhap I can build some more suspense or action or something to jar some more lurkers into making some comments. \

With that in mind, anybody have any requests as to what they'd like to see more of?


Either way, the next post should be up sometime around the end of the day or so.

Vann - Well, stay tuned I've got some of that coming down the pike.

VILenin - would you say that it would be "inconceivable"?





Okay folks, I've got the next post ready, and it's going to have a breif appearance by a guest that has been alluded to in previous posts.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - PART FOUR​

OPERATION MERCURY - THE OUTCOME​

August 15, 1937
Buckingham Palace
London
Later afternoon

“About the French, let me get my notes,” spoke the man who was Director of the Imperial Intelligence Office, the Duke of Kent, the King of the British Empire’s younger brother and therefore also the heir-apparent to the throne of the Empire until such time that the King designated a new heir.

Replacing the folder in his lap with one from his attaché case that was very thick and showing considerable wear and tear from many viewings, Prince George’s countenance lost its grim visage from the previous conversation and visibly brightened as he smiled as he opened the folder that was labeled in bold type: MERCURY/AGINCOURT TOP SECRET. Taking several smaller folders out and placing them strategically about his position, he mused aloud, “Where to begin, where to begin?”

Picking up a folder from where he had just deposited it, the director of the Empire’s espionage efforts flicked it open and after scanning the cover sheet looked at the King and said, “Of all the different aspects of Operation Mercury, I have to say that the French undertaking actually was our most brilliant success across the board. Most importantly we lost not a single agent nor did we lose any of our assets actually being controlled by any of agents.”

“Glad am I to hear of that,” King George responded with feeling. Spying the twinkle in his younger brother’s eye that belied the calm pose he was showing, the King continued, “Come out with it, George, I know you are nearly bursting to crow about something, no need to hide it, eh?”

Smiling broadly the Prince let out a chuckle and then began to read from the notes in his lap. “Following the Renseignements Généraux clearly inept attempt to squash the distribution of the Vatican’s Divini redemptoris, the French right have been able to stage a resurgence. With former Prime Minister Pierre Laval’s newspapers agitating the public above and behind the riotous activities already occurring, the Third Republic’s experience with Communist rule under the leadership of Blum and Thorez is teetering worse than a jolly Jack Tar come back from shore leave!”

“And what about Operation Agincourt,” the King of the British Empire asked while grinning at his brother’s apt simile.

“Ah, yes, Agincourt,” the Prince replied with an even broader smile as he retrieved another folder from its deposited location on the floor. “Gordon Drake did us a great service in his little jaunts across the Channel. Despite some ruffled feathers amongst Pétain’s staff –“

“Who, that de Gaulle prick,” the King interrupted vehemently salty enough to do a veteran boatswain of the Royal Navy proud.

“Why, brother dear,” Prince George, Duke of Kent, chided, “you are showing a most un-regal like attitude toward the Colonel, especially when you’ve never met the man face to face.”

“Don’t give me that excrement, George,” the King retorted hotly, “I don’t need to met that goat fornicating Frog, I’ve read most of his tirades against the Empire to know the meeting would get very bloody very quickly!”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Albert,” the Prince replied soothingly, “I’d just as well like to see the man find himself with his head permanently stuck up his backside, I just didn’t realize you took it to heart. But never fear, de Gaulle ruffled feathers of some more powerful people in Pétain’s circle when he allowed himself to become ruffled.”

Snorting with disdain and then blowing out a deep breath through his nose to calm himself, King George waved his hand as if flicking away an irritating fly. “So just what did Malcolm’s younger brother accomplish?”

“With Drake running the operation that allowed Pétain, Laval, Darlan and Giraud to cement their relations with other opposition groups, they have been able to gain enough strength to contest the legitimacy of Blum’s government. At the same time, certain aforementioned individuals notwithstanding, he has able to cultivate relationships with several of the staff members of Pétain’s inner circle and has provided us with information that has allowed us to have a firm grasp of Pétain’s course of action.”

“And that course of action is,” the King asked with an arched eyebrow.

With a wolfish smile the Prince answered. “Suffice to say that by sunset tomorrow, Blum’s Front Populaire and the Third Republic of France will be but a chapter in the history books of Europe.”

Just as the Prince finished speaking, the door leading into the room opened and a very pregnant Cecilia Drake walked in, a business like and no-nonsense look across her pretty face. Both King and Prince, being men, thought she more waddled through the door than walked, but being husbands as well, instantly crushed that thought and recognized the beautiful glow that emanated from the King’s executive secretary.


“Ah, Your Highness, I see that you are done with your business with His Majesty,” Mrs. Drake said pointedly.

Knowing that if she had walked in the door as she had that the King’s daughter, and thus his niece, was awake from her afternoon nap and if that he was not done there would be hell to pay, Prince George nodded briskly. “But of course, Cecilia. I had just finished and was going to see if Elizabeth was awake so I could spend some spoiling time with my darling niece.”

Looking at the Prince and the King skeptically, both of whom maintained the very air of innocence about themselves, Mrs. Drake face broke into an impishly grin that revealed how her husband’s heart had been captured. “If I didn’t know you any better, Your Highness, I would believe you. However, you and His Majesty are lucky this afternoon for I’m feeling motherly.” Turing to the King she continued, “Your Majesty, I’ve been informed that the Princess is awake, and as you know, you need to be occasionally reminded that you also have a duty to your family. Now that she is awake, it is time to spend some time with your daughter.”

Opening the door further and motioning for the King to step out of the room, she looked toward the King’s brother and admonished him with a stern eye, "You’ll be allowed to come along as well, Your Highness, but if I hear one bit of “business” uttered between you and His Majesty, I’ll have Malcolm come and toss you out on your ear, understand?”

“Of course, Cecilia,” the Prince said as he collected his papers and shared a knowing grin with his brother. “But don’t you think your husband will refrain from doing so out of respect for my Royal blood?”

“He may serve the Empire and the Royal Family, Your Highness,” Mrs. Drake replied with another impish grin that beamed with love, “but Malcolm is my man and his mother taught him well.”

Chuckling, the royal brothers could only shake their heads in amusement as they walked out the door heading toward the palace’s nursery, each wondering as they pushed thoughts of the world outside the confines of the Empire aside, just what would the world and France wake up to the day after tomorrow.










Next.... the Fall of the Third Republic???

I can't tell, that'd almost be like kissin' and tellin', eh?

Just wait Agincourt ain't done yet!

Number crunching is on the way, trust me!

Gee, are you a fan of the Six-Fingered Man?

The land war in Asia... I'll do my best, but the Empire has vast possesions in Asia so that might not be an option, eh? Regarding the Sicilian... bah, I fear no Sicilian!

De Gaulle, well, De Gaulle, we just love him... 'cause he's just sooo, French!