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Fascinating.
Thanks! I'm glad you've enjoyed it thus far!
Its clearly a fault in the game the it is not a true boomer
If the fault be with the SSN's not have first strike capabilities, I'm with you. Perhaps patches may one day lead to you being able to place a strategic rocket onto a SSN and launching it against your opponent. That would be awesome!
Chapter One
Inside the halls of U-SSN 881, heavy movement gripped the entire ship. Men were moving into positions; the captain was looking at his small screen of radar, capable of a 20-mile radius and aerial coverage, the small, almost unrecognizable dots of the P.13 fighters disappeared in favor of larger more recognizable Fw. 200 Condor’s flying straight from Bremen out towards their location.
“Dive,” said Captain Kruger, giving his orders for the pilots to take a dive – looking at the calibrator to his left: 100m, 112m, 117m… and dropping. Overhead the noises of a loud and cumbersome aircraft thundered above, recognizable inside due to the short distance from sea-level and the fact that the nuclear submarine was armed with a relatively thin-coat of metal to provide more stealth. “Turn off the main engines, start the electric boosters!” yelled Captain Kruger, hoping that the massive German Naval bomber (he was perhaps the only who knew that the aircraft were German instead of British) wouldn’t be able to detect any sudden movements as the ship slowly dived down into the depths of the North Sea.
“What the hell,” said Lieutenant walking up to Captain Kruger, “we aren’t at war with the British! Just what the hell is going on?”
“Shut up!” responded Captain Kruger.
Overhead the German pilots of the Fw. 200 Condor noticed small traces of submarine waves beneath the bed of sea. The pilot pointed down to the ocean floor, lifting the torpedo bay from beneath his hatch where four newly made air-to-sea missiles were encompassed. These air-to-sea missiles were not of the standard assortment. Since 1946, to combat the increasingly threat of British and American submarines, the German Air Arm introduced Fritz XX missiles, wired to shot into the water and explode at a pre-determined depth, contact, or when the commander of the missile determined it was time to detonate the warhead. In essence, this new generation of air-to-sea missiles was nothing more than specialized depth charges.
The Fw. 200 pilot released all four of his Fritz XX (based on the Blohm & Voss BV 246 anti-ship missile now capable of attacking submerged ships) into the water. The first was set to explode at only 100m, and did so, causing a massive rupture of water into the air; the U-SSN 881 was unharmed by the first explosion, which rocked the ship gently.
“Captain, I just think somebody shot something at us,” said Lieutenant Kress.
“No really, will you just shut up!” replied Captain Kruger as he looked back at the calibrator: 197m.
As the ship continued to sink, the ship was rocked again by the second of the German missiles, diving deep into the North Sea and tapping off at 150m, missing the U-SSN 881 by 50 meters and off to the right. The explosion gulped up another large wave of water into the air, the pilots above noting any signs of odd-wreckage or oil spills, telling signs that the ship would have been hit.
“Release the dry bay hatch,” said a stern Captain Kruger.
“The stern bay? What for?” asked Captain Gysae to his left.
“Just do it!” sharply answered Paul Kruger looking back at the calibrator, the entire ship quiet from what was going on above them. As Captain Gysae ran to the dry bay hatch, located at the tail end of the ship which stored excess metals and parts for use on repairs, the third missile went off at 200m, the explosion sending the ship tilting to the left from the shockwave underwater, but still to far away to break the coat-lining and cause leakage.
“Captain, they’re getting closer,” said Lieutenant Kress.
“Don’t you think I know that already!” answered Captain Kruger, reading the calibrator at 246m.
As the fourth missile made its way down into the water, Captain Gysae released the dry bay hatch, sending close to one-hundred pounds of reserve steel plating into the water and on it’s way back to the surface. Just as this was happening, the fourth missile exploded at 250 meters, just due east of the U-SSN 881. This explosion rocked the ship, causing the lighting and all power sources within the boat to freeze for about three seconds before everything went back on. The Sea Wolf had eluded her fate at the hands of the German Luftwaffe.
The Condor pilot circled back around after the explosions checking the water for any signs of debris, and just as he made his round to the fourth explosion, some of the scrap reserve metal from the U-SSN 881 made it’s way to the surface. The pilot tapped his co-pilot on the shoulder, “Take a look at that!” he said pointing down below and tilting the massive German plane so his partner could get a glance at the water. “Does that look like metal to you?”
“I’ll radio it in to the Kriegsmarine Headquarters, I’m sure they’ll get a ship out here to examine it.”
“That can’t be the her though, it just seems like it’s not enough.”
“Maybe we hit small sections of her, either way, she’s leaking badly down there and she’ll have to reach the surface. At that point, she’s a sitting duck. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” finished the co-pilot who radioed back the possibility of sinking the U-SSN 881 to German High Command who immediately sent four elektroboots (Electric U-Boats) into the area.
By the afternoon, the German U-Boats emerged to find the scrap metal right beside them. The captain’s called back to the HQ saying that it nothing more than scrap metal, thereby the U-SSN 881 was still lost and on the loose somewhere in the North Atlantic Ocean.
Around the same time this was occurring, back inside the halls of U-SSN 881, order was restored and the captain calmed his junior officers down, particularly Lieutenant Kress who seemed stressed out by being shot at by, on his accounts, the British while Captain Kruger held the truth from him. Captain Kruger then walked down the halls towards his office with Captain Gysae beside him.
“How much longer until you tell the men?” asked Captain Gysae.
“I can’t tell them until we reach a more viable position. We’re still too close to Germany, and far too close to Britain. The last thing I want is someone else taking control of my ship and ending this mission before it even started.”
“Captain,” pleaded Robert Gysae, “I hope you know what you’re getting us into.”
“If you think I wouldn’t know, do you think I would have taken this post?” smiled Captain Kruger as he entered his office with Captain Gysae and the two men carried on an engaging conversation related to their mission at hand.
Outside the captain’s quarters Lieutenant Kress with junior Lieutenant Robert Conrad and Derek Ruth were talking amongst themselves in light of the situation that had just happened.
“I think he’s hiding something from us,” said Lieutenant Kress, “it just doesn’t make sense for the British to bomb us when we’re not at war.”
“What if it wasn’t the British,” replied Lieutenant Conrad, “what if it was our own.”
“That’s insane,” said Lieutenant Ruth, “why would we blow up our own wunderwaffe?”
“This just doesn’t make sense,” insisted Lieutenant Kress, “it has to be something we don’t know, something only he and maybe Captain Gysae knows. We just don’t sail into target practice like that.”
One of the seaman walked up to Lieutenant Kress, a nervous look on his face; but well-knowing that the young lieutenant was the provisionary captain while Kruger and Gysae were both in their offices. He spoke, “Sir, we have a minor situation. We have a cracked valve on the port-side, if we don’t take care of it, well, it may just lead to a leak.”
“I’ll inform the captain, are we working to fix the problem?”
“Yes, lieutenant, we should have it done within the next half-hour. I just thought it was…” the young sailor, somewhat shaking due to little confidence, was interrupted by Lt. Kress.
“That’s all sailor, it’s fine. Return to your post.” And with that, the young seaman walked back to the portside of the submarine; looking back one last time to the young trio of officers walking the command room, their hands behind their back as they walked slowly across the ground-floor.
With that, the junior officers departed to attend their regular posts while both captain’s were away in their offices. Lieutenant Kress assuming the deputy roles as commanding officer as the captain’s were away for the time, him being the third-ranking officer after both Captain Kruger and Gysae, oversaw the leveling-out of the submarine about 350-meters below sea-level. Behind the lieutenant, a sailor who had seemingly chimed into his conversation gave a glaring stare back at the captain’s office.
Inside the halls of U-SSN 881, heavy movement gripped the entire ship. Men were moving into positions; the captain was looking at his small screen of radar, capable of a 20-mile radius and aerial coverage, the small, almost unrecognizable dots of the P.13 fighters disappeared in favor of larger more recognizable Fw. 200 Condor’s flying straight from Bremen out towards their location.
“Dive,” said Captain Kruger, giving his orders for the pilots to take a dive – looking at the calibrator to his left: 100m, 112m, 117m… and dropping. Overhead the noises of a loud and cumbersome aircraft thundered above, recognizable inside due to the short distance from sea-level and the fact that the nuclear submarine was armed with a relatively thin-coat of metal to provide more stealth. “Turn off the main engines, start the electric boosters!” yelled Captain Kruger, hoping that the massive German Naval bomber (he was perhaps the only who knew that the aircraft were German instead of British) wouldn’t be able to detect any sudden movements as the ship slowly dived down into the depths of the North Sea.
“What the hell,” said Lieutenant walking up to Captain Kruger, “we aren’t at war with the British! Just what the hell is going on?”
“Shut up!” responded Captain Kruger.
Overhead the German pilots of the Fw. 200 Condor noticed small traces of submarine waves beneath the bed of sea. The pilot pointed down to the ocean floor, lifting the torpedo bay from beneath his hatch where four newly made air-to-sea missiles were encompassed. These air-to-sea missiles were not of the standard assortment. Since 1946, to combat the increasingly threat of British and American submarines, the German Air Arm introduced Fritz XX missiles, wired to shot into the water and explode at a pre-determined depth, contact, or when the commander of the missile determined it was time to detonate the warhead. In essence, this new generation of air-to-sea missiles was nothing more than specialized depth charges.
The Fw. 200 pilot released all four of his Fritz XX (based on the Blohm & Voss BV 246 anti-ship missile now capable of attacking submerged ships) into the water. The first was set to explode at only 100m, and did so, causing a massive rupture of water into the air; the U-SSN 881 was unharmed by the first explosion, which rocked the ship gently.
“Captain, I just think somebody shot something at us,” said Lieutenant Kress.
“No really, will you just shut up!” replied Captain Kruger as he looked back at the calibrator: 197m.
As the ship continued to sink, the ship was rocked again by the second of the German missiles, diving deep into the North Sea and tapping off at 150m, missing the U-SSN 881 by 50 meters and off to the right. The explosion gulped up another large wave of water into the air, the pilots above noting any signs of odd-wreckage or oil spills, telling signs that the ship would have been hit.
“Release the dry bay hatch,” said a stern Captain Kruger.
“The stern bay? What for?” asked Captain Gysae to his left.
“Just do it!” sharply answered Paul Kruger looking back at the calibrator, the entire ship quiet from what was going on above them. As Captain Gysae ran to the dry bay hatch, located at the tail end of the ship which stored excess metals and parts for use on repairs, the third missile went off at 200m, the explosion sending the ship tilting to the left from the shockwave underwater, but still to far away to break the coat-lining and cause leakage.
“Captain, they’re getting closer,” said Lieutenant Kress.
“Don’t you think I know that already!” answered Captain Kruger, reading the calibrator at 246m.
As the fourth missile made its way down into the water, Captain Gysae released the dry bay hatch, sending close to one-hundred pounds of reserve steel plating into the water and on it’s way back to the surface. Just as this was happening, the fourth missile exploded at 250 meters, just due east of the U-SSN 881. This explosion rocked the ship, causing the lighting and all power sources within the boat to freeze for about three seconds before everything went back on. The Sea Wolf had eluded her fate at the hands of the German Luftwaffe.
The Condor pilot circled back around after the explosions checking the water for any signs of debris, and just as he made his round to the fourth explosion, some of the scrap reserve metal from the U-SSN 881 made it’s way to the surface. The pilot tapped his co-pilot on the shoulder, “Take a look at that!” he said pointing down below and tilting the massive German plane so his partner could get a glance at the water. “Does that look like metal to you?”
“I’ll radio it in to the Kriegsmarine Headquarters, I’m sure they’ll get a ship out here to examine it.”
“That can’t be the her though, it just seems like it’s not enough.”
“Maybe we hit small sections of her, either way, she’s leaking badly down there and she’ll have to reach the surface. At that point, she’s a sitting duck. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” finished the co-pilot who radioed back the possibility of sinking the U-SSN 881 to German High Command who immediately sent four elektroboots (Electric U-Boats) into the area.
By the afternoon, the German U-Boats emerged to find the scrap metal right beside them. The captain’s called back to the HQ saying that it nothing more than scrap metal, thereby the U-SSN 881 was still lost and on the loose somewhere in the North Atlantic Ocean.
Around the same time this was occurring, back inside the halls of U-SSN 881, order was restored and the captain calmed his junior officers down, particularly Lieutenant Kress who seemed stressed out by being shot at by, on his accounts, the British while Captain Kruger held the truth from him. Captain Kruger then walked down the halls towards his office with Captain Gysae beside him.
“How much longer until you tell the men?” asked Captain Gysae.
“I can’t tell them until we reach a more viable position. We’re still too close to Germany, and far too close to Britain. The last thing I want is someone else taking control of my ship and ending this mission before it even started.”
“Captain,” pleaded Robert Gysae, “I hope you know what you’re getting us into.”
“If you think I wouldn’t know, do you think I would have taken this post?” smiled Captain Kruger as he entered his office with Captain Gysae and the two men carried on an engaging conversation related to their mission at hand.
Outside the captain’s quarters Lieutenant Kress with junior Lieutenant Robert Conrad and Derek Ruth were talking amongst themselves in light of the situation that had just happened.
“I think he’s hiding something from us,” said Lieutenant Kress, “it just doesn’t make sense for the British to bomb us when we’re not at war.”
“What if it wasn’t the British,” replied Lieutenant Conrad, “what if it was our own.”
“That’s insane,” said Lieutenant Ruth, “why would we blow up our own wunderwaffe?”
“This just doesn’t make sense,” insisted Lieutenant Kress, “it has to be something we don’t know, something only he and maybe Captain Gysae knows. We just don’t sail into target practice like that.”
One of the seaman walked up to Lieutenant Kress, a nervous look on his face; but well-knowing that the young lieutenant was the provisionary captain while Kruger and Gysae were both in their offices. He spoke, “Sir, we have a minor situation. We have a cracked valve on the port-side, if we don’t take care of it, well, it may just lead to a leak.”
“I’ll inform the captain, are we working to fix the problem?”
“Yes, lieutenant, we should have it done within the next half-hour. I just thought it was…” the young sailor, somewhat shaking due to little confidence, was interrupted by Lt. Kress.
“That’s all sailor, it’s fine. Return to your post.” And with that, the young seaman walked back to the portside of the submarine; looking back one last time to the young trio of officers walking the command room, their hands behind their back as they walked slowly across the ground-floor.
With that, the junior officers departed to attend their regular posts while both captain’s were away in their offices. Lieutenant Kress assuming the deputy roles as commanding officer as the captain’s were away for the time, him being the third-ranking officer after both Captain Kruger and Gysae, oversaw the leveling-out of the submarine about 350-meters below sea-level. Behind the lieutenant, a sailor who had seemingly chimed into his conversation gave a glaring stare back at the captain’s office.
Quite intense stuff, so the Germans fail to sink their own ship... I wonder what will happen next?
Who knows what they'll do if they make it to the shores of the United States, can't wait for more!
Who knows what they'll do if they make it to the shores of the United States, can't wait for more!
That ejection of the spare and scap metal is a common trick to fool the submarine hunters. Nevertheless quite effective. But the germans are not foolish enougth to take the bait. The suspense is rising. Good work. Keep going.
And the Red October assistant cook makes his appearance...
And the Red October assistant cook makes his appearance...
Lt. Conrad knows whats up. Can't wait to see how it all plays out. I don't want a sad ending or a war to start but I fear that is what will happen.
I agree, I can't wait to see what plays out onboard U-SSN 881. I see a power struggle happening between the junior officers and Cpt. Kruger.
@ Erie_Patriot: Thanks! More to be revealed in the future updates.
@ Kurt_Steiner: The Hudson River... or the bottom of the Atlantic! I guess we'll see.
@ endier: scrap metal ejections is a simple yet effective way of fooling submarine hunters. And, as you've said, the Germans aren't going to be fooled with this being their pride and joy. Ssshhh! Don't give away the identity of some of the sailors!
@ EvilFishtank: Some of the junior officers onboard the U-SSN 881 are going to get into a power struggle on the ship... wait, I'm not supposed to tell you that.
@ Red Eagle: You might be right.
@ jonlucero: EvilFishtank is on top of things, always nice to see a reader look ahead and give his two cents!
@ Kurt_Steiner: The Hudson River... or the bottom of the Atlantic!
I guess we'll see.@ endier: scrap metal ejections is a simple yet effective way of fooling submarine hunters. And, as you've said, the Germans aren't going to be fooled with this being their pride and joy. Ssshhh! Don't give away the identity of some of the sailors!
@ EvilFishtank: Some of the junior officers onboard the U-SSN 881 are going to get into a power struggle on the ship... wait, I'm not supposed to tell you that.
@ Red Eagle: You might be right.
@ jonlucero: EvilFishtank is on top of things, always nice to see a reader look ahead and give his two cents!
Chapter Two: The Plot Behind U-SSN 881
Chapter Two
Back in Washington DC, FBI Agent Frank Brown was hard at work inside his offices, reviewing papers and documents from various members of the Wallace Administration, as well as members of the United States Congress, none more so involved with him than Senator Robert Taft (Republican) from Ohio. As the FBI Agent searched through his folders, he made his way to his superior’s department head, knocking on the door and asking to come in.
As he entered, the room was dark, quiet and full of smoke. His boss, looking out the window, smoking a cigarette turned around and spoke, “Staying late I see,” as the man in the chair turned back to the moon. “I must profess, I don’t blame you for trying to solve the crisis at hand.”
“The crisis?” Agent Brown asked as he took a seat in the smoke filled room.
“Of course,” said his boss, “the mystery behind that lost German U-Boat, U-SSN 881. I must admit we’ve known of its existence for some time now; we just never thought that this type of situation would ever present itself.”
Frank got a rush of anger, standing from his chair and slamming his fist on the table, “You knew all this time and did nothing!”
“Nothing,” laughed his boss as he placed his burnt-out cigarette into his tray, taking away another cigarette from his pocket and placing it within his mouth, proceeding to take out his lighter with the markings: “Trust No One,” written on it, slowly turning it and lighting his brand new cigarette, “Nothing, we did something. Ambassador Joseph Kennedy is in London, but more importantly Nathan Banks is with him,” said Frank’s boss, exhaling a deep breathe of smoke from his lungs into the air.
“Nathan Banks, he’s just one man,” replied Frank Brown, his boss still looking out the window at the night sky.
“You love your country right? As much as I do? I have some secrets I’m not actually supposed to show you. Get up,” Frank’s boss said, getting out of his chair, “follow me.”
The two men walked through the dark halls of FBI building, making their way into a high-security prism. Frank’s boss opened a small cabinet, in it, holding a folding marked: classified. He pulled it out, took his cigarette to give Frank a chance to see the pictures with some lighting and spoke, “Here’s your job. The plot behind U-SSN 881.”
As Frank looked at some of the pictures, a single familiar face came up multiple times: Secretary, and former Ambassador to Germany: Robert Stevenson. Frank closed the folder, placing the pictures back into the classified documents and asked his boss what this meant, to which his boss replied ‘nothing.’ The two men walked out of the room and back into his offices, taking a seat in the smoggy room again, his boss coughing as he took another inhale from his cigarette.
“Mr. Brown,” he spoke simplistically, “someone within our own government is feeding us false information; as is the same in the German government. Mr. Brown, this is more than just a lost submarine, this a conspiracy unseen proportions…”
By dawn, Frank Brown was out in the streets of Washington, walking passed many of the historic buildings of the United States Capital, among which, the United States Capital Building, saw Senator Robert Taft, the leader of the Republican-Conservative Coalition against the progressive agenda of first: Alfred Landon (Republican), John Nance Garner (Democrat), and later Henry A. Wallace, who managed to defeat Garner in the primaries of 1944 promising a swift and quick end of the war with Japan and concentrating on the New Deal programs that Franklin Roosevelt had intended.
Outside the halls, Senator Taft and his cronies pulled up to the US Capital Building, well expecting that he and Dewey were ready to run for the Republican nomination; this little problem (largely unknown by the American public) could prove to be a great proving ground for the Ohio Senator. When the Senator stepped out of his car, he noticed Frank sitting on the steps of the building.
“What seems to be bothering you Frank?” asked the Senator as he walked to him with his staff.
Frank looked up, noticing it was Senator Taft standing before him. “Not much, just hard at work,” he replied.
“That’s good,” said the Senator as he walked passed him, “I hope it be on what I think it is on.”
Frank nodded. Hours later, Frank was talking to Nathan Banks over censored phone line. This however, was to little avail as Secretary Stevenson well knew that Frank Brown was hot on his tracks, something that Senator Gillmore didn’t take to lightly. While Frank was talking to Banks, Senator Gillmore and Secretary Stevenson were talking amongst each other on what to do with this particular FBI Agent who had contacts that made him nearly untouchable.
“We have to do something about that man,” said Senator Gillmore, pacing the office of Secretary of Agriculture Robert Stevenson, one of Wallace’s most trusted and well respected cabinet members.
“Calm down Joseph,” replied Robert Stevenson, “this matter isn’t much to be getting worked over. He has no suspicions, he has no leads, and he has no chance on discovering the truth behind that submarine.”
“I hope you’re right,” Senator Gillmore replied staunchly. “The last thing we need is more controversy on our hands.”
“I assure you, we’ll take care of Agent Brown, permanently; I guarantee it,” said Secretary Stevenson smiling as he walked to his desk and picked up his phone.
Moments later, his German aide came into his offices, acknowledging that he was the man that he had just called. His aide, Peter Beck, an ideologue if there ever was one; walked over to his boss as he whispered into his ear. Peter Beck then turned out, left and walked down the halls to the streets of Washington, starting his car and driving out in the United States capital.
Frank Brown, just finishing his conversion with Nathan Banks along the docks, alone in a secluded place, started walking back to his car. Behind him, Peter Beck’s car pulled up behind him, full of men inside as he himself sat looking on to try and ensure that the man in the hat was in fact FBI Agent Frank Brown. Brown, realizing he was being followed, halted and took out a cigarette and lit it; putting his lighter back into his pocket and slowly walking forward again, his other hand in his overcoat clinching his Colt Pistol he had concealed with his over-the-shoulder holster.
Beck slowly followed, inside the car, the men were getting a bit antsy about what they were about to do.
“Do you know what to do Steven?” asked one of the men inside.
“Yeah, we get out; fire a few shots, and get back in. Don’t stop moving.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay boys, get ready,” said Peter Beck as he gunned the gas and ran his car right beside the FBI Agent who leapt over an old trash can sitting on the side of the docks just as the men inside the car came out.
Frank Brown popped up from behind the basket, his pistol drawn and loaded, aiming at the car as the men inside stormed out brandishing their weapons as Agent Brown was the first to fire, the secluded docks quickly turning into a warzone…
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Now I know someone on these boards has to know the man in this picture, the biggest emmy snub of all time and one of my favorite television antagonists, who turns out to be a little bit of an aid in this AAR. Do we have a name (of the movie character, bonus if you can name the real actor)?
Chapter Two
Back in Washington DC, FBI Agent Frank Brown was hard at work inside his offices, reviewing papers and documents from various members of the Wallace Administration, as well as members of the United States Congress, none more so involved with him than Senator Robert Taft (Republican) from Ohio. As the FBI Agent searched through his folders, he made his way to his superior’s department head, knocking on the door and asking to come in.
As he entered, the room was dark, quiet and full of smoke. His boss, looking out the window, smoking a cigarette turned around and spoke, “Staying late I see,” as the man in the chair turned back to the moon. “I must profess, I don’t blame you for trying to solve the crisis at hand.”
“The crisis?” Agent Brown asked as he took a seat in the smoke filled room.
“Of course,” said his boss, “the mystery behind that lost German U-Boat, U-SSN 881. I must admit we’ve known of its existence for some time now; we just never thought that this type of situation would ever present itself.”
Frank got a rush of anger, standing from his chair and slamming his fist on the table, “You knew all this time and did nothing!”
“Nothing,” laughed his boss as he placed his burnt-out cigarette into his tray, taking away another cigarette from his pocket and placing it within his mouth, proceeding to take out his lighter with the markings: “Trust No One,” written on it, slowly turning it and lighting his brand new cigarette, “Nothing, we did something. Ambassador Joseph Kennedy is in London, but more importantly Nathan Banks is with him,” said Frank’s boss, exhaling a deep breathe of smoke from his lungs into the air.
“Nathan Banks, he’s just one man,” replied Frank Brown, his boss still looking out the window at the night sky.
“You love your country right? As much as I do? I have some secrets I’m not actually supposed to show you. Get up,” Frank’s boss said, getting out of his chair, “follow me.”
The two men walked through the dark halls of FBI building, making their way into a high-security prism. Frank’s boss opened a small cabinet, in it, holding a folding marked: classified. He pulled it out, took his cigarette to give Frank a chance to see the pictures with some lighting and spoke, “Here’s your job. The plot behind U-SSN 881.”
As Frank looked at some of the pictures, a single familiar face came up multiple times: Secretary, and former Ambassador to Germany: Robert Stevenson. Frank closed the folder, placing the pictures back into the classified documents and asked his boss what this meant, to which his boss replied ‘nothing.’ The two men walked out of the room and back into his offices, taking a seat in the smoggy room again, his boss coughing as he took another inhale from his cigarette.
“Mr. Brown,” he spoke simplistically, “someone within our own government is feeding us false information; as is the same in the German government. Mr. Brown, this is more than just a lost submarine, this a conspiracy unseen proportions…”
By dawn, Frank Brown was out in the streets of Washington, walking passed many of the historic buildings of the United States Capital, among which, the United States Capital Building, saw Senator Robert Taft, the leader of the Republican-Conservative Coalition against the progressive agenda of first: Alfred Landon (Republican), John Nance Garner (Democrat), and later Henry A. Wallace, who managed to defeat Garner in the primaries of 1944 promising a swift and quick end of the war with Japan and concentrating on the New Deal programs that Franklin Roosevelt had intended.
Outside the halls, Senator Taft and his cronies pulled up to the US Capital Building, well expecting that he and Dewey were ready to run for the Republican nomination; this little problem (largely unknown by the American public) could prove to be a great proving ground for the Ohio Senator. When the Senator stepped out of his car, he noticed Frank sitting on the steps of the building.
“What seems to be bothering you Frank?” asked the Senator as he walked to him with his staff.
Frank looked up, noticing it was Senator Taft standing before him. “Not much, just hard at work,” he replied.
“That’s good,” said the Senator as he walked passed him, “I hope it be on what I think it is on.”
Frank nodded. Hours later, Frank was talking to Nathan Banks over censored phone line. This however, was to little avail as Secretary Stevenson well knew that Frank Brown was hot on his tracks, something that Senator Gillmore didn’t take to lightly. While Frank was talking to Banks, Senator Gillmore and Secretary Stevenson were talking amongst each other on what to do with this particular FBI Agent who had contacts that made him nearly untouchable.
“We have to do something about that man,” said Senator Gillmore, pacing the office of Secretary of Agriculture Robert Stevenson, one of Wallace’s most trusted and well respected cabinet members.
“Calm down Joseph,” replied Robert Stevenson, “this matter isn’t much to be getting worked over. He has no suspicions, he has no leads, and he has no chance on discovering the truth behind that submarine.”
“I hope you’re right,” Senator Gillmore replied staunchly. “The last thing we need is more controversy on our hands.”
“I assure you, we’ll take care of Agent Brown, permanently; I guarantee it,” said Secretary Stevenson smiling as he walked to his desk and picked up his phone.
Moments later, his German aide came into his offices, acknowledging that he was the man that he had just called. His aide, Peter Beck, an ideologue if there ever was one; walked over to his boss as he whispered into his ear. Peter Beck then turned out, left and walked down the halls to the streets of Washington, starting his car and driving out in the United States capital.
Frank Brown, just finishing his conversion with Nathan Banks along the docks, alone in a secluded place, started walking back to his car. Behind him, Peter Beck’s car pulled up behind him, full of men inside as he himself sat looking on to try and ensure that the man in the hat was in fact FBI Agent Frank Brown. Brown, realizing he was being followed, halted and took out a cigarette and lit it; putting his lighter back into his pocket and slowly walking forward again, his other hand in his overcoat clinching his Colt Pistol he had concealed with his over-the-shoulder holster.
Beck slowly followed, inside the car, the men were getting a bit antsy about what they were about to do.
“Do you know what to do Steven?” asked one of the men inside.
“Yeah, we get out; fire a few shots, and get back in. Don’t stop moving.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay boys, get ready,” said Peter Beck as he gunned the gas and ran his car right beside the FBI Agent who leapt over an old trash can sitting on the side of the docks just as the men inside the car came out.
Frank Brown popped up from behind the basket, his pistol drawn and loaded, aiming at the car as the men inside stormed out brandishing their weapons as Agent Brown was the first to fire, the secluded docks quickly turning into a warzone…
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Now I know someone on these boards has to know the man in this picture, the biggest emmy snub of all time and one of my favorite television antagonists, who turns out to be a little bit of an aid in this AAR. Do we have a name (of the movie character, bonus if you can name the real actor)?
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Cigarette Smoking Man C.G.B: Spender, played by William Bruce Davis
I love you, Wikipedia.
Oh, an I am very curious as to who is beyond this sub plot (pardon the pun). Soviets? Chinese? Shadow NWO?
I love you, Wikipedia.
Oh, an I am very curious as to who is beyond this sub plot (pardon the pun). Soviets? Chinese? Shadow NWO?
I would say, you at least to know some X-Files even with Wikipedia!
As to who is behind this plot, that's a driving factor in making this AAR different from the Red October. The men behind it, may be shocking.
For thee, I promote you as a Second Lieutenant onboard the U-SSN 881! Do with the award as you please.
cliffhanger!
I ever do wonder what is going to happen to poor old Frank as it looks like he's got a couple of men wanting to kill him! As far as I can tell, it would seem like a couple of Germans and Americans are working together, but for what? That I"m not sure of.
I ever do wonder what is going to happen to poor old Frank as it looks like he's got a couple of men wanting to kill him! As far as I can tell, it would seem like a couple of Germans and Americans are working together, but for what? That I"m not sure of.
When I saw the picture of the "cancer man" I died. Loved how you did that. Really exciting story. I like how you slowly provide the backstory as to what happened in the war before this point. Also love the building up of the tension. A+
Excellent AAR Volksmarschall, also loved the movie "The Hunt for Red October, also thank you for taking enough notice of my AAR to comment on it
The X-File twist is great. Opens a complete new dimension.
(and I will continue revealing the identities of the crew...unless I am a crew member myself...)
(and I will continue revealing the identities of the crew...unless I am a crew member myself...
)