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First of all, I didn't expect this kind of reaction.... :eek:

Lord Strange He will be avenged, and Ian will have a hand in my eventual campaigns against the Reich all over Europe.

humancalculator
Agreed. :(

BritishImperial Indeed he did. I didn't plan for him to die, the first one supposed to kick the bucket was someone else. ( Not Ian ) This update is one of those that wrote themselves.

Griffin.Gen :eek:

*goes into hiding again*

Thomas Kenobi Indeed.






Also, as a tribute. And this too. Ignore the talking and concentrate on the music.
 
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Ian will use Hitler's moustache as a paintbrush.

Revenge is too sweet to those Nazis. Even Ilya Ehrenburg will look as a pussycat once Ian has ended his job.
 
Let me us an old Klingon proverb: Revenge is a dish best served cold.


Also, Ian will need some time to come to senses again before they will allow him out there again.
 
I must say that I did not expect that to happen. It's sad to see Felix go, but I don't blame you. As you said, someone has to die in order to maintain a sense of realism. Also, as I'm sure you know, I;m someone who understands and appreciates the impact that the death of characters can have on a narrative.
 
I must say that I did not expect that to happen. It's sad to see Felix go, but I don't blame you. As you said, someone has to die in order to maintain a sense of realism. Also, as I'm sure you know, I;m someone who understands and appreciates the impact that the death of characters can have on a narrative.

True enough. He was not the one supposed to die though.
 
Perhaps then we should brace ourselves for the death of the originally intended victim.

I do not know. This is honestly the first time where I have no idea at all where to go.
 
So...Felix is Superman, Spock and the Magnificent Seven? :p

Anyway, Axis: 1, Allies: 0

Someone has to keep score...
 
I really liked Felix as a character. Still, I ´have recovered from the experience that it was even for me ( :D ) and am working on the next update.
 
Alas, a delay. I had the next update written, but decided that the last third of it needs a re-write. I should have it done by this evening.
 
Alas, a delay. I had the next update written, but decided that the last third of it needs a re-write. I should have it done by this evening.

boo ! XD And here I thought you were up already and uploading it . XD But don't worry , I understand with what you're trying to do this is going to be difficult .
 
Chapter 131


Palace_of_Westminster2C_London_-_Fe.jpg


10th August 1940

The Leiter Residence, London

It had been almost a week now, but the pain still stung like it had happened yesterday. Ian suspected that it wouldn't go away for quite some time yet, as Felix had been like a brother to him. When he had arrived in Britain two days ago, he had been intensively de-briefed, only that after two days the pitiful looks on the faces of everyone who had worked with them had taken their toll and he had requested permission to go on the leave that he had due. Although during wartime, accumulated leave was rarely granted, M had let him go. Back in the days when the Germans had fought under the banner of Kaiser Wilhelm II, he had also lost good friends, and he understood that if Ian was ever to return, he needed time. No one was unbreakable, that much was sure. So now Ian stood in front of where Felix' parents lived, facing the most difficult task of his long career. M had said that they had already been notified, so at least that duty wouldn't be his. Would they welcome him, knowing that he had caused the death of their only son? Would they throw him out, slam the door into his face? Most of all, what would Sandra say? Would she even talk to him now? This was actually the possibility he was scared of the most, and it was what had kept him standing at the corner of the street for close to an hour now. It was already darkening, and if he wanted to make the call at a socially acceptable hour, he needed to move now. With that in mind, he slowly and cautiously walked towards the door, dreading what he might find behind it. The house was blacked out of course, but he had been here often enough to know the little signs to know when someone was in. The flowerpot beside the door was shifted from it's usual position, most likely Jonathan Leiter had once again accidentally kicked it while opening the door, the newspaper that always lay at the little bench to the left was gone and also because he could hear faint voices from the inside. He fought against the knot in his stomach, but still managed to force himself to knock. While he waited the seconds seemed to be stretched out into eternity. As much as he saw the need for this visit, as much he wanted to get it over and done with.

When the door finally opened, it took Ian a few seconds to make out who had opened it. When Sandra lunged at him and hugged him close, all identification was unneeded. She was hugging him so close, while he was immensely pleased that she had not simply rejected him, he loved her too much for that. “Oh Ian, what happened?” she said, before she pulled back slightly, kissed him in the lips and leaned into him, while the two walked into the house. Closing the door behind them, Ian could see that Sandra had obviously cried a lot over the last few days, but right now she seemed to be collected enough. “You asked what happened, love. I wish I could tell you, my god how I wish I could tell you.....” Sandra stepped back and viewed him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment that made him wince and once again caused a surge of guilt within him. “Why Ian, why can't you tell me?” she whispered. “Because it was all my fault, that's why!” he yelled. Her face crumpled when she heard this. “How....” Ian decided that he could as well tell her. His career with the NID and the SOE was over anyhow. “Because I didn't stop him from going, because I did not try to protect him more.....” he trailed off when he saw Jonathan come through the door. The American's face betrayed no emotion, but his voice was surprisingly quivering. “What happened to my son, Ian, what happened to Felix? Why are you here and he is not?” At that instant Ian's defences crumbled and he decided that whatever official wrath was directed upon him in the future, he did not care. For the first time his experience with growing up in a writing family failed him as he could not find the word. He did not fault Jonathan for his words. He knew that no parent is supposed to outlive their child, and not even knowing why was even more painful than it would have been anyway. “Jonathan.... I don't know what to say.” Ian said, struggling to find words. Ignoring that they were still standing in the entryway and ignoring that his daughter was still hugging Ian and staring at her father with wide eyes, Jonathan stepped forward. “Who killed my son, Ian?” Ian sighed and began to talk. “We should sit down.”


“It was a mission, but I think you already know that much. We were trained for weeks, and couldn't contact anyone. About two weeks ago we were shipped out to Denmark and ...” for the next few minutes Ian outlined the general way of the mission, leaving out just as much that he could, in his opinion not be hanged for treason, because for some reason, something in the back of his mind told him that he would be needed alive. When he came to the point where they had been arrested, he was glad that Cathrine was nowhere to be seen. Sandra grabbed his arm and held onto it tightly when he described in detail how they had killed the guard. “We grabbed his weapon and snuck out through the rear door of the barn. They spotted us soon, and started to shoot. He was right at my side....” Ian paused and closed his eyes when the memories flooded back. When he felt that Sandra was squeezing his hand, he opened his eyes and and flashed her a quick smile before taking a deep breath. “He must have been hit then, but I didn't notice until we reached the wall. I....” This was even more difficult than he expected, but Sandra's silent support gave him the strength to carry on. “I... I didn't know he was hut until we were there. I tried to take him with me, but I think he knew that it was ending, so he refused to come. He said he would keep them off my back as long as he could, and.... his last thoughts were with you, that I am sure of. He died for what he believed in, Jonathan.” Jonathan's hard face melted a little and he sighed. “I know. Despite what I said, I don't believe this is your fault, but I...” Ian held up his free hand and only said: “No offence taken, Jonathan. None taken.” Jonathan let out a weary sigh and said, whilst rising to get the bottle of best Kentucky Burbon that he had managed to save until now. “Felix would haunt me until eternity if he'd see we were blaming you. Ian, you were his best friend and the brother he never had. He spoke highly of you, and I know why.” He came back with the bottle and while Sandra soon excused herself, the two men sat and drank wordlessly. Several hours passed before Jonathan broke the silence. “There is one thing I want you to do though,” he slurred and slammed the glass down. “Anything.” was the equally intoxicated answer. “Don't waste your life.” Jonathan said, sobering up for a moment. “Felix would haunt MY behind if I would.” Ian said.


The next morning Ian rose from the guest bed, and winced when a ray of sunlight reminded him of the hangover he was waking up with. The memories of last night came rushing back to him, and he winced once more. He couldn't really recall what had happened during the wee hours of the morning, but his hangover and the fact that he was not sleeping on the street somewhere were indicators. He rose from the bed and trodded over to the mirror. The face that stared back at him was the one he had seen after various drinking binges during college and later before the war. He still managed to give himself a quick wash and decided not to shave just now. He also decided against staying for breakfast and was about to sneak out of the house as silently as he could in his current state. The Leiters would need time before the memorial service, and he himself needed time to figure out how to get M to do what he wanted. Ian wanted a combat assignment, and by god, he would get it. He grabbed his cap from the bedside table and silently walked down the stairs. His hopes of getting out of the house unseen where dashed when Sandra emerged from the toilet, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. “Where are you going, Ian?” she asked. “Home.” he answered. “I don't want to intrude on it all any more than I already have to.” “Rubbish. Cathrine already asked for you. You are as much a part of this family as Felix was, and I hope you know that.” This reply came from Jonathan, who had stepped out of the dining room. “But...” “No buts, Ian. Felix would have wanted it that way.” In the room a tired Cathrine Leiter was busying herself with making her own interpretation of a continental breakfast as good as was possible with wartime rationing. “Cathrine, I....” She looked up and for a moment Ian could see a multitude of emotions on her face. Anger, at both Ian because he had not brought her son back alive, fear that she might loose her other child, and then a silent but still emanating sadness that reminded Ian of the look on his own mother's face when his real brother had died from Pneumonia in the late twenties. “I....I am sorry, Cathrine, I wish Felix were here instead of me, I..” “You aren't, and that is what matters, isn't it?” Cathrine asked harshly and left the kitchen through the other door, leaving a shattered Ian behind. Ian just turned, and walked out of the house without a further word. He ignored Sandra's please for him to stay. He had damaged this family enough.

This evening he found himself in the bar where he had initiated Felix into the fine art of 'proper beer' back in 1938, and once again he was stung by how little time he had spent truly alone over the last two years. He had always been with....No, he had to get used to it all, and fast. There was no point in wallowing in the past, like he had done over the days, he had to look forward. After all, there was a war on. With this, he slammed money for the drinks he had consumed onto the counter and left the bar with the intention to make something of the remainder of his life, without constant reminders of his failure, and alas, also without Sandra, which would probably be the most difficult bit, for he still loved her with all his being. M was less than pleased at his request for a transfer, but eventually agreed. When he thought back to his own experiences, and to many friends he had lost, he realized that he would have acted the same. He could only hope that Fleming would not fall apart, like head seen so many times with others. Ian on the other hand was as happy as he had been for weeks and looked forward to go back out to sea regularly. There he could do what he wanted to do most: kill Germans.

During peacetime, he would have had to take a refresher course, but the ever worsening situation in France, the Mediterranean Sea and the general need of the RN for new ships, wherever they could be found precluded this, and he was metaphorically thrown into the cold water, ordered to report to HMS Falcon in Portsmouth on 1st September. He intended to leave London as soon as possible. He still had a week's worth of leave and intended to spend it with his parents, and the sooner he got out of London, the better, because each minute he spent here was spent fighting with his desire to contact Sandra and the others. Each time when he had almost dailed their number, each time he was almost running over there, he reminded himself that he had caused them enough pain, and stayed where he was, taking it all as...He stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at the vision in front of his eyes. Sandra was standing in front of his door, with an anxious look on her face, dressed in the coat and the hat he had seen he first in, doubtless no coincidence. “Why did you leave so suddenly?” she asked. “It was clear that your mother did not want me there, and you know what? She is right. I dragged Felix into this whole mess, I did not look after him like he deserved it, and it is my fault that he died on that field. I should have taken him with me, and besides, your mother hates me now.” Sandra stared at her feet for a few seconds before looking back at Ian. “Ian, I love you. No one blames you. Felix knew what he was doing, and he said as much before you two left. I think he sort of knew he was not coming back...” Ian's head whipped around and he looked here in the eyes. “What in the blazes makes you say that?” Sandra shook her head. “It was that look in his eyes, I guess, the way he talked, the way he kept saying that he was doing this in his own free will, and besides, my parents both know the risks, as did Felix.” “I can't fault them for wanting to blame someone though.” Ian answered. “But not you, Ian. Mother is grieving for her son, and” “And I can't fault her for that, not really.” Ian smiled for the first time in weeks. “And what brings you here, beside that?” “You are going to sea, aren't you?”

“Yes, yes I am. How do...” She interrupted him with a sad smile. “Let's just say that I got to know you quite well. Besides, it's what Felix would have done were the situation reversed. The two of you are quite similar, believe it or not, and I want to ask you one question.” “Fire away.” Ian said, expecting her to beg him to stay, to explain why, and the “When?” he heard instead took him by total surprise.

[Notes: I am not satisfied with this update. But I figured that if I kept honing it, I'd never release it, so here it is then. Up next is a return to France.]
 
Beautifully done. Now, time to kick some Nazi asses to the Moon!
 
Now now, The British will get to the moon first, and create Moon Base Churchill. Oh and instead, I suggest we kick the Nazis into the dust.....
 
I really liked the update Trek, it made quite a change from some of the gung-ho adventures we've seen of late.
 
Kurt_Steiner Thank you, thank you!

Lord Strange Well, first they will kick France.

Le Jones
True. However, we will see more gung-ho adventures once France has fallen, and the immediate future will be mostly combat updates. We are close to the showdown in France. After that, I will focus on the family of our recent VC winner, as they are supposed to be the characters for the British Homefront. I will also at some point introduce a character at the german one, but doing that without being too biased in either direction is difficult. What will also return soon are the tech updates. The Mossie for example will fly very soon.
 
I think Ian should meet Tarantino...:D
 
I think Ian should meet Tarantino...:D

Dear god, NO!


As much as I like Kill Bill ( only the first one ), it's not exactly the British Way to slice open your enemys with a sword. Good, oldfashioned Naval Gunfire will do.
 
Of course, DRINKING UNTIL YOU PASS OUT SOLVES EVERY PROBLEMS!! :rofl:
Very, very nice update. Now off to the Mediteranean!
Btw: What are you gonna do with Post-War Germany?