oh noes!!! 
maybe the americans have divs close by to contain them and drive them back into the sea?
maybe the americans have divs close by to contain them and drive them back into the sea?-
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I hope this is not taken as a political comment, but I think that Fu is about to make the same mistake that Bush made with Iraq.
The war will not be over while any american has access to a gun. Freedom is too ingrained in the American psyche to go under without a fight.
I would not like to be a Chinese MP in Sna Francisco. All sorts of accidents and dangers await!
The war will not be over while any american has access to a gun. Freedom is too ingrained in the American psyche to go under without a fight.
I would not like to be a Chinese MP in Sna Francisco. All sorts of accidents and dangers await!
Well so much for old San Francisco. And for MacArthur. Dis you erase him from the leader file? And how did you manage the secret weapon?
Excellent description of the aerial fights and the bloody business of amphibious landings. But I do think that Siwan Khan should realise that he just might have pushed the Shadow a touch too far this time... And of course, Bond is there.
I wonder what Fu Manchu is thinking...
BOOOMMMM!!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!
DW
Excellent description of the aerial fights and the bloody business of amphibious landings. But I do think that Siwan Khan should realise that he just might have pushed the Shadow a touch too far this time... And of course, Bond is there.
I wonder what Fu Manchu is thinking...
BOOOMMMM!!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!
DW
Dead William: Yeah, I erased him manually. As for the secret weapon, to tell the truth it's just a rationalisation for the Americans landing two divisions in Hawaii, to be instantly obliterated by the Army-sized forces in Pearl Harbour and then leaving San Francisco undefended. I'm studying introducing it like a secret weapon tech in the mod though.
Otherwise, since I'm on a crappy modem connection right now, I'll just say thank you for all comments and bring you the latest update. Enjoy, I hope!
Otherwise, since I'm on a crappy modem connection right now, I'll just say thank you for all comments and bring you the latest update. Enjoy, I hope!
Fort Knox Bullion Depository, Radcliff
Kentucky, United States of America
April 17th, 1940
Siwan Khan, cuffed and dressed in a striped prisoners suit rather than his magnificent golden robes, scoffed as he was rudely pushed out of the police car and their destination, rising like a white burial mound in the night, became apparent.
‘Fort Knox? You have brought me to Fort Knox?’
‘And why not?’ one of the two trench-coated FBI agents holding his arms answered smugly. ‘What destination could be more appropriate for the “Golden Master”?’
‘You may no longer have Alcatraz, but one would have thought that Sing-Sing or some other high security prison would have been more appropriate?’
‘No Sir, we’re not falling for that!’ the agent said mockingly as they pushed their cuffed captive towards the great steel door of the building. ‘We’re not worried so much about you escaping as about your friends breaking you out. After all, that’s how you got out before, and then your people were not even invading America.’
In the car, a sinister shape in a large hat and with his face cowered by a red scarf leaned towards the open window. ‘I will not be able to inhibit his mind controlling powers beyond those doors. It’s time you use the drug.’
The agent nodded and pulled out a syringe and vial from his pocket. ‘All right sonny, say good night! Soon, you’ll be so dosed with Sodium Pentothal that you’ll be struggling to come up with the answer to two plus two!’
Siwan Khan just shrugged as he was injected with the mind-supressing drug and fixed his hypnotic green eyes on The Shadow. ‘You know we will meet again, Ying Ko – and then nothing will save you, just like nothing will save your degenerate country.’
The eerie laughter of The Shadow set the hairs on end on the FBI agents. ‘On the contrary, Siwan. It is you who will not be saved. Goodbye, I’m sure you’ll be giving all sorts of interesting answers to the army interrogators.’
The Shadow waited, pistols held out of sight behind the door, but cocked and ready, until Siwan Khan showed clear signs of having been affected by the drug, had been led to the 22-tonne steel doors of the Bullion Depository, until the three Treasury Department guards had wheeled in their separate codes on the three code wheels of door, indeed, even until those huge doors had swung open and closed behind the huddled figure in white and black stripes that was his archenemy. Only then did he order Moe Shrewnitz to drive on and begin the long journey back to New York. He hoped those thick concrete walls, which sheltered the gold of America, would be enough to keep also the Golden Master in check.
The Pan-Asian plane was a Mitsubishi G4M long-rang naval bomber (codenamed “Betty” by the Americans), but it could no longer serve in that function. Its ventral doors had been welded shut, the bomb racks removed to make place for extra fuel tanks. The plane flew under a starry sky at extreme altitude, far above the clouds in order to avoid not only interception, but even detection. Against a country that possessed no air interception radars, it was a workable tactic. Its cargo on this particular flight, non-stop from the recently captured Chrissy Field of San Francisco was six men in hooded black robes – Tibetan warrior monks of the Black Temple.
Their leader, Nag Po Lama, rose from his seat and walked to the back of the plane. If his face had not been deep in the shadows of his hood, the frown on his forehead would have made him look worried. It was almost time for the jump, and time also to make sure they still held the favour of their deity. In the back of the cabin, an impromptu shrine had been set up. There was a small altar, a low, squat slab of some green-black stone with an almost soap-like quality to it. It was covered in hideous carvings that looked nothing like Tibetan and which were almost completely obscured by the wear of ages and was not bigger than that a man could easily have lifted it. Behind the altar stone, a thin veil of almost transparent black silk partitioned off the very rear end of the compartment. A pile of cushions were laid out behind, but were unoccupied.
Nag Po kneeled before the shrine, lit some incense sticks from a small brazier and set them into small holes drilled in the stone for the purpose. He then clapped his hands together and began a hummed out prayer, singsonged in a low, raw and somehow brutal voice.
Suddenly, the space behind the veil was no longer empty. The cushions rustled as a great weight crushed them, and the air went fetid with the smell of unwashed, greasy human skin which easily overpowered the spicy scent of the incense sticks. A grotesquely obese woman could be seen, barely, through the silk veil. She was hiding her naked bulk and face behind two great gold-embroidered black silk fans. Nag Po Lama bowed his head to the floor in respect.
‘Goddess, once more I seek your blessing for this enterprise!’
‘You and your disciples are most favoured, Nag Po’ the Goddess whispered in a wet, gurgling voice which brought to mind slithering, slimy things. ‘My efforts to curry favour for you in The Court also continue unabated. Go forth, Nag Po, and free the unworthy Siwan Khan – your prestige in the Council of Seven will be greatly increased and through you, my influence will also wax.’
‘As you say, Goddess!’ Nag Po Lama whispered without lifting his head.
There was a plopping sound as the air rushed in to fill the void were the fat woman had been and Nag Po lifted his forehead from the metallic floor and returned to his place without comment. All his disciples knew who he had been talking too, and would not dream of demanding any explanations from their autocratic leader.
When the navigator of the bomber concluded they had reached the vicinity of Radcliffe, Kentucky, the pilot sent the plane plummeting towards the ground like a stone. It sliced through the cloud cover and continued it’s descent towards the dark ground. As the lights of the city drew closer, a door opened in the side of the airplane and one after another, the six black monks jumped out into the night. Their parachutes, when they opened, where as black as their robes. None of them carried any weapons.
Between piles of gold ingots, a small cell had been set up in an alcove. Siwan Khan sat strapped to a chair with a strong lamp shining straight into his face while the interrogators stood behind the light, barking out their questions. A classic third degree.
‘What’s the next objective of the invasion?’ “Wild Bill” Donovan barked, sounding for all the world as if he was almost overcome with rage and ready to beat the bound man to a pulp.
Siwan Khan’s haughty, noble features were drenched in sweat, and his eyes rolled wildly. ‘I don’t know! I…’
‘You lie!’ Out of the light, a fist flew into the “Golden Master’s” face. Sweat and blood sprayed out as the head was thrown back.
‘Answer the question, you bastard!’
‘The west coast…’ Siwan whispered, blood trickling from his mouth.
‘What do you mean?’ suddenly Donovans voice was mellow with sympathy. Normally, Siwan Khan would never had responded to such base manipulation, but with his higher brain functions impaired by the Sodium Pentothal running through his veins, emotions ruled his actions. ‘What part of the west coast?’
As if the most natural thing in the world, Donovan extended a package with one cigarette protruding.
‘All of it.’ Siwan said, taking the cigarette between his lips.
Dononvan’s lighter stopped in mid air for an instant, before moving on to light the cigarette.
‘All of it? My God!’ one of the Army intelligence officers whispered.
‘Yes…’ “The Golden Master” chuckled, as if thinking of something very amusing. ‘The 18th Field Army is set to arrive any day at San Francisco. It will split into three corps – the main body will move south to capture Los Angeles and San Diego. One corps will move north, towards Seattle and one will move inland to secure the oil fields in the Californian interior. Then, as more troops arrive, well move east on front from Canada to Mexico…’
Suddenly the interrogators were very silent, overcome with the unbearable reality of what was to come.
‘Go on, please.’ Donovan said in an not unkind voice. ‘One Field Army… With what you have already, that’s what… ten divisions?’
‘Twelve.’ Siwan Khan said with relish. Somehow he felt on top of things. He was impressing these weak Americans, showing them the unrivalled power of his father’s Empire. Already they were beginning to defer to his superiority.
‘Even so,’ Donovan insisted, ‘we still have fifteen divisions to oppose you. How can you expect to make such sweeping gains against such odds?’
Again Siwan Khan chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound. ‘Well, to begin with, most of our air force has already been relocated to San Francisco. We’ll have absolute air superiority – your divisions will have to march under a rain of bombs. Also, in about two weeks time, the 14th Cavalry Army will reach San Francisco. They’re Mongolians and very fierce. They fight in the old way – have you heard of the ancient custom of Kharash?’
‘Can’t say that I have,’ “Wild Bill” said in a light tone of voice.
‘Well, you see, in the times of the Great Khans, when the Mongol horde invaded a realm, they would drive the people before them, to use as shield.’
‘What does that mean in modern terms? A bunch of prisoners will only slow them down, you know, and it will hardly help them much in a fight.’
‘Oh, it’s very simple.’ Siwan Khan drew a deep puff of smoke with gusto. ‘Beginning with San Francisco, my Mongol warriors will slaughter everything in their path – men, women, children, cattle, even pets.’
‘Christ almighty!’ one of the officers gasped, but Donovan hushed him. Siwan Khan seemed not to notice though.
‘When the news of that reaches your citizens, what do you think they’ll do?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Run,’ Donovan conceded. ‘Hundreds of thousands if not millions of refugees will clog the roads, hampering the movement of our troops and supplies. We'll have to find food, shelter, drink for all of them… even in peacetime, it would be a logistical nightmare. You bastards. You complete utter savage bastards!’
‘Exactly!’ Siwan Khan said, laughing like a madman. ‘It also saves us the need of providing for the occupied population and reduces the need for rear area garrisons in depopulated areas. Quite ingenious, if I might say so, I came up with the idea myself.’
‘Quite.’ Donovan said with admirable cool as he turned off the light rose from his chair. ‘Well, I think we can call it a day, I need to let a few people know about these things before… what was that?!’
Kentucky, United States of America
April 17th, 1940
Siwan Khan, cuffed and dressed in a striped prisoners suit rather than his magnificent golden robes, scoffed as he was rudely pushed out of the police car and their destination, rising like a white burial mound in the night, became apparent.
‘Fort Knox? You have brought me to Fort Knox?’
‘And why not?’ one of the two trench-coated FBI agents holding his arms answered smugly. ‘What destination could be more appropriate for the “Golden Master”?’
‘You may no longer have Alcatraz, but one would have thought that Sing-Sing or some other high security prison would have been more appropriate?’
‘No Sir, we’re not falling for that!’ the agent said mockingly as they pushed their cuffed captive towards the great steel door of the building. ‘We’re not worried so much about you escaping as about your friends breaking you out. After all, that’s how you got out before, and then your people were not even invading America.’
In the car, a sinister shape in a large hat and with his face cowered by a red scarf leaned towards the open window. ‘I will not be able to inhibit his mind controlling powers beyond those doors. It’s time you use the drug.’
The agent nodded and pulled out a syringe and vial from his pocket. ‘All right sonny, say good night! Soon, you’ll be so dosed with Sodium Pentothal that you’ll be struggling to come up with the answer to two plus two!’
Siwan Khan just shrugged as he was injected with the mind-supressing drug and fixed his hypnotic green eyes on The Shadow. ‘You know we will meet again, Ying Ko – and then nothing will save you, just like nothing will save your degenerate country.’
The eerie laughter of The Shadow set the hairs on end on the FBI agents. ‘On the contrary, Siwan. It is you who will not be saved. Goodbye, I’m sure you’ll be giving all sorts of interesting answers to the army interrogators.’
The Shadow waited, pistols held out of sight behind the door, but cocked and ready, until Siwan Khan showed clear signs of having been affected by the drug, had been led to the 22-tonne steel doors of the Bullion Depository, until the three Treasury Department guards had wheeled in their separate codes on the three code wheels of door, indeed, even until those huge doors had swung open and closed behind the huddled figure in white and black stripes that was his archenemy. Only then did he order Moe Shrewnitz to drive on and begin the long journey back to New York. He hoped those thick concrete walls, which sheltered the gold of America, would be enough to keep also the Golden Master in check.
****
The Pan-Asian plane was a Mitsubishi G4M long-rang naval bomber (codenamed “Betty” by the Americans), but it could no longer serve in that function. Its ventral doors had been welded shut, the bomb racks removed to make place for extra fuel tanks. The plane flew under a starry sky at extreme altitude, far above the clouds in order to avoid not only interception, but even detection. Against a country that possessed no air interception radars, it was a workable tactic. Its cargo on this particular flight, non-stop from the recently captured Chrissy Field of San Francisco was six men in hooded black robes – Tibetan warrior monks of the Black Temple.
Their leader, Nag Po Lama, rose from his seat and walked to the back of the plane. If his face had not been deep in the shadows of his hood, the frown on his forehead would have made him look worried. It was almost time for the jump, and time also to make sure they still held the favour of their deity. In the back of the cabin, an impromptu shrine had been set up. There was a small altar, a low, squat slab of some green-black stone with an almost soap-like quality to it. It was covered in hideous carvings that looked nothing like Tibetan and which were almost completely obscured by the wear of ages and was not bigger than that a man could easily have lifted it. Behind the altar stone, a thin veil of almost transparent black silk partitioned off the very rear end of the compartment. A pile of cushions were laid out behind, but were unoccupied.
Nag Po kneeled before the shrine, lit some incense sticks from a small brazier and set them into small holes drilled in the stone for the purpose. He then clapped his hands together and began a hummed out prayer, singsonged in a low, raw and somehow brutal voice.
Suddenly, the space behind the veil was no longer empty. The cushions rustled as a great weight crushed them, and the air went fetid with the smell of unwashed, greasy human skin which easily overpowered the spicy scent of the incense sticks. A grotesquely obese woman could be seen, barely, through the silk veil. She was hiding her naked bulk and face behind two great gold-embroidered black silk fans. Nag Po Lama bowed his head to the floor in respect.
‘Goddess, once more I seek your blessing for this enterprise!’
‘You and your disciples are most favoured, Nag Po’ the Goddess whispered in a wet, gurgling voice which brought to mind slithering, slimy things. ‘My efforts to curry favour for you in The Court also continue unabated. Go forth, Nag Po, and free the unworthy Siwan Khan – your prestige in the Council of Seven will be greatly increased and through you, my influence will also wax.’
‘As you say, Goddess!’ Nag Po Lama whispered without lifting his head.
There was a plopping sound as the air rushed in to fill the void were the fat woman had been and Nag Po lifted his forehead from the metallic floor and returned to his place without comment. All his disciples knew who he had been talking too, and would not dream of demanding any explanations from their autocratic leader.
When the navigator of the bomber concluded they had reached the vicinity of Radcliffe, Kentucky, the pilot sent the plane plummeting towards the ground like a stone. It sliced through the cloud cover and continued it’s descent towards the dark ground. As the lights of the city drew closer, a door opened in the side of the airplane and one after another, the six black monks jumped out into the night. Their parachutes, when they opened, where as black as their robes. None of them carried any weapons.
****
Between piles of gold ingots, a small cell had been set up in an alcove. Siwan Khan sat strapped to a chair with a strong lamp shining straight into his face while the interrogators stood behind the light, barking out their questions. A classic third degree.
‘What’s the next objective of the invasion?’ “Wild Bill” Donovan barked, sounding for all the world as if he was almost overcome with rage and ready to beat the bound man to a pulp.
Siwan Khan’s haughty, noble features were drenched in sweat, and his eyes rolled wildly. ‘I don’t know! I…’
‘You lie!’ Out of the light, a fist flew into the “Golden Master’s” face. Sweat and blood sprayed out as the head was thrown back.
‘Answer the question, you bastard!’
‘The west coast…’ Siwan whispered, blood trickling from his mouth.
‘What do you mean?’ suddenly Donovans voice was mellow with sympathy. Normally, Siwan Khan would never had responded to such base manipulation, but with his higher brain functions impaired by the Sodium Pentothal running through his veins, emotions ruled his actions. ‘What part of the west coast?’
As if the most natural thing in the world, Donovan extended a package with one cigarette protruding.
‘All of it.’ Siwan said, taking the cigarette between his lips.
Dononvan’s lighter stopped in mid air for an instant, before moving on to light the cigarette.
‘All of it? My God!’ one of the Army intelligence officers whispered.
‘Yes…’ “The Golden Master” chuckled, as if thinking of something very amusing. ‘The 18th Field Army is set to arrive any day at San Francisco. It will split into three corps – the main body will move south to capture Los Angeles and San Diego. One corps will move north, towards Seattle and one will move inland to secure the oil fields in the Californian interior. Then, as more troops arrive, well move east on front from Canada to Mexico…’
Suddenly the interrogators were very silent, overcome with the unbearable reality of what was to come.
‘Go on, please.’ Donovan said in an not unkind voice. ‘One Field Army… With what you have already, that’s what… ten divisions?’
‘Twelve.’ Siwan Khan said with relish. Somehow he felt on top of things. He was impressing these weak Americans, showing them the unrivalled power of his father’s Empire. Already they were beginning to defer to his superiority.
‘Even so,’ Donovan insisted, ‘we still have fifteen divisions to oppose you. How can you expect to make such sweeping gains against such odds?’
Again Siwan Khan chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound. ‘Well, to begin with, most of our air force has already been relocated to San Francisco. We’ll have absolute air superiority – your divisions will have to march under a rain of bombs. Also, in about two weeks time, the 14th Cavalry Army will reach San Francisco. They’re Mongolians and very fierce. They fight in the old way – have you heard of the ancient custom of Kharash?’
‘Can’t say that I have,’ “Wild Bill” said in a light tone of voice.
‘Well, you see, in the times of the Great Khans, when the Mongol horde invaded a realm, they would drive the people before them, to use as shield.’
‘What does that mean in modern terms? A bunch of prisoners will only slow them down, you know, and it will hardly help them much in a fight.’
‘Oh, it’s very simple.’ Siwan Khan drew a deep puff of smoke with gusto. ‘Beginning with San Francisco, my Mongol warriors will slaughter everything in their path – men, women, children, cattle, even pets.’
‘Christ almighty!’ one of the officers gasped, but Donovan hushed him. Siwan Khan seemed not to notice though.
‘When the news of that reaches your citizens, what do you think they’ll do?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Run,’ Donovan conceded. ‘Hundreds of thousands if not millions of refugees will clog the roads, hampering the movement of our troops and supplies. We'll have to find food, shelter, drink for all of them… even in peacetime, it would be a logistical nightmare. You bastards. You complete utter savage bastards!’
‘Exactly!’ Siwan Khan said, laughing like a madman. ‘It also saves us the need of providing for the occupied population and reduces the need for rear area garrisons in depopulated areas. Quite ingenious, if I might say so, I came up with the idea myself.’
‘Quite.’ Donovan said with admirable cool as he turned off the light rose from his chair. ‘Well, I think we can call it a day, I need to let a few people know about these things before… what was that?!’
Last edited:
Whoa, what a horrible war coming to the West Coast! I can't wait. And I'm glad we went back to Khan's interrogration, to remove the thought of the fat goddess. Good stuff, Yogi!
Hurrah! One of Yogi's AARs has been updated! Excellent as usual, but I wonder when we'll see another screenshot... Come to think of it, have there been any screenshots at all? Even in the original?
Good to see you back.
And an excellent Update.
So Siwan Khan wants to return to the old Mongolian traditional warfare?
But I think that at last will bring the British into the war.
And perhaps the Russians, too? They don't have very fond memories of the mongols.
Btw. I just started working on the pdf-version.
And an excellent Update.
So Siwan Khan wants to return to the old Mongolian traditional warfare?
But I think that at last will bring the British into the war.
And perhaps the Russians, too? They don't have very fond memories of the mongols.
Btw. I just started working on the pdf-version.
youre back! think those monks might steal some gold along with snatching Khan away?
Urr. This is starting to look like total victory for Fu Manchu... Umm, the good guys do have some sort of chance, do they? Or are you going to say that all we know is, in fact an alternate reality?
Great update btw!
DW
Great update btw!
DW
Great update Yogi, it seems things are going to get alot worse before they get better for the United States...
pdf-version of the AAR
I have now finished, converting to pdf the
It is up to date and you are welcome to download it, be it for better reading or just having this excellent AAR on your harddrive.
I also intend to update it fairly regularly, when The Yogi posts another installment.
Also if you want to, you can download the prequel
if you haven't read it or just want to check a detail, that is important again.
(I slightly reworked it compared to the last version and included a table of contents)
I hope you enjoy it.
(And of course many thanks to The Yogi for allowing me to do this.)
And now it time to anxiously wait for another update.
I have now finished, converting to pdf the
It is up to date and you are welcome to download it, be it for better reading or just having this excellent AAR on your harddrive.
I also intend to update it fairly regularly, when The Yogi posts another installment.
Also if you want to, you can download the prequel
if you haven't read it or just want to check a detail, that is important again.
(I slightly reworked it compared to the last version and included a table of contents)
I hope you enjoy it.
(And of course many thanks to The Yogi for allowing me to do this.)
And now it time to anxiously wait for another update.
You, sir, are a scholar and a gentleman. An update and pdf versions of the ongoing masterpiece!seboden said:
W00T!
Tskb18 said:
Thanks!
o I first did it for myself, so I could reread parts of it.
But then I figured other people would like it, too.
Tskb18 said:
Hear, hear! Well done Seboden. I'm very happy you've done this, it makes it much easier giving the AAR to read to people who do not frequent this board, like my brothers and RL friends.
Much obliged, Sir!
Now, doesn't ANYONE more feel an irresistible urge to go vote in the AARland Choice AARwards Q2 2006? I believe this AAR is tied in the ranking for favourite HOI1/2 AAR...
Your gentle proddings are noted, oh great one.The Yogi said:Hear, hear! Well done Seboden. I'm very happy you've done this, it makes it much easier giving the AAR to read to people who do not frequent this board, like my brothers and RL friends.
Much obliged, Sir!
Now, doesn't ANYONE more feel an irresistible urge to go vote in the AARland Choice AARwards Q2 2006? I believe this AAR is tied in the ranking for favourite HOI1/2 AAR...
But don't keep us in suspense, I need to now how our heroes are going to save the US from what seems like an approaching cataclysm.
With this update, has there ever been a decisive victory for the good guys? It's always one step forwards, two steps back! :wacko:
And yes, vote in the AARland Choice AwAARds! Less than a week now left to vote! Don't want this AAR to not win, do you?
And yes, vote in the AARland Choice AwAARds! Less than a week now left to vote! Don't want this AAR to not win, do you?
If my counting is now correct, the 'Favorite HOI2 AAR' category is no longer a tie. Just remember: I was never here!