by M C Drake
The Aryan kicked the pistol out of the General’s hand and then pointed his rifle at Westmoreland's head.
“You are not meant for death, yet.” A voice called out from behind, in a familiar German accent.
Independence lost
Fighting still raged across the city but the small pockets of resistance could only fight on for so long before they were overrun. The White House was now clear off all but a tiny proportion of US soldiers who would not give in.
In the emergency bunker, Commander Sporrenberg surveyed the situation.
"Face it, gentleman, you have lost the battle; I have an offer of unconditional surrender here." The German narrowed his eyes as he locked onto Agnew. "You will sign this on a live broadcast and read out the terms to the beaten population.
Agnew did not respond but he subconsciously took a step back. He looked at the Aryan soldiers who had their weapons focused on him. Agnew could feel himself shaking but he managed to speak.
“I will, I will do no such thing. You are scum and I will not cooperate with the likes of you!”
Sporrenberg shook his head. The predator took a few steps towards Agnew and placed his hand on the vice president's shoulder. "Think about your actions Vice President, this will stop the senseless killing of your people."
Spiro Agnew pulled away from Sporrenberg, “No, you can go to hell.”
Sporrenberg's face contorted into that terrifying grin, “So be it.” He raised his pistol and fired a single shot into Agnew's stomach.
The Vice President reeled backward, he clenched at the wound as he doubled over in pain. Sporrenberg fired again and the plasma round burnt through the man's chest. The bone was scorched along his rib cage.
Agnew fell to his knees as he struggled for breath. The Vice President looked up into the German's chest. Sporrenberg spat on him and then kicked him in the fresh wound. Agnew writhed in pain.
Sporrenberg bent over, “You are pathetic.” He pulled the trigger and the round seared through Agnew's temple. The ex-SS man gave Agnew's body one final kick.
Westmoreland hung his head, he knew what that meant.
The remaining Secret service guards were dispatched on Sporrenberg's orders, they were lined up against the wall and killed by firing squad.
"Get that sack of shit up to his feet," Sporrenberg ordered as he nodded to Westmoreland.
Two Aryan soldiers held Westmoreland in place as Sporrenberg stood in front of him.
“Looks like it is up to you General, will you do the right thing and end this nightmare for your Countrymen, or will you try and be a hero like Mr. Agnew?.”
Westmoreland could not meet Sporrenberg's gaze. He just nodded.
“Excellent.” Sporrenberg said, “You are doing the right thing.”
Westmoreland was escorted to the main office that was normally reserved for the President; it was being set up as a studio with cameras being placed on all sides of the room. The Aryan's also set up microphones for the accompanying radio broadcast.
A chill ran through the General's spin, the swastika hung from the walls with its menacing black, white and red colorings, Westmoreland felt dizzy and nauseous. ‘This can't be happening’ he thought to himself.
A large wooden table sat in the middle of the room, there were three chairs placed at the table along with a pen and a glass of water.
Sporrenberg gestured to the table, "Sit, please have a drink, you have a big performance ahead of you." The Ex-SS man smiled again.
Westmoreland looked Sporrenberg dead in the eye for the first time, “How is this broadcast going to reach all of our troops? You are blocking our communications.”
“Don't concern yourself with such trivial matters, we have that all in hand. Just concentrate on the terms of the surrender and what you are going to say.”
Westmoreland looked through the terms, they were not good for his nation but there was nothing that could be done, if he did not sign the document then the war would consume his country and his people would all be killed. The General tried to justify his actions to himself.
Just after 02.00 Atlantic time, a TV and radio broadcast went out over all channels. The screen snapped into life to show a room decorated in Nazi flags. General Sporrenberg appeared in front of the camera.
“Rejoice America, the war is finally over. This morning in this very room you will witness history being made, the dawn of a new era. Feel proud that you get to bear witness to this!”
The camera changed again to show a very weary looking General Westmoreland sitting at the table, the bags under his eyes were so dark and it looked like he had aged ten years in a single night. He sat and stared into the camera while the cigarette hanging from his mouth continued to burn.
Two men sat at the table opposite the General, one was Sporrenberg and the other was his trusted Advisor.
“Advisor A, please will you present the General with terms.”
The tall advisor did not say a word but just slid the surrender documents over to Westmoreland.
The American General sighed and then quickly picked up the pen and scribbled his signature everywhere he was instructed. When he finished he threw the pen back down and it bounced off the table.
General Westmoreland turned to the camera and he started to speak in a slow and methodical manner.
"Tonight I, on behalf of the United States of America have signed the unconditional surrender of our armed forces. Washington DC has fallen and for us, the fight is over, as you listen to this I urge you to put down your weapons." Westmoreland paused and took a long drag from his cigarette.
"All armed forces personnel that surrender will no longer be killed on the spot. If you turn yourselves into the nearest Aryan units you will be treated with respect. You will be taken for processing and will have to work for a living but at least you will get to live." He sighed, "If you continue to fight then you will be dealt with extreme force. You will be killed on the spot and if your family is captured, they will also be killed."
The General looked straight into the cameras, "You are to treat your new commanders with the utmost respect and will do what they ask. You are welcome to keep some of your personal belongings and your money will remain your own."
“However some of your possessions will be taken by the Aryan forces, you are to comply with these requests implicitly.”
The broadcast continued for another five minutes, troops who had been fighting all across the United States could not believe what they were hearing. Some chose to fight on but others laid down their arms; they were quickly arrested and transported to freshly set up labor camps.
“It is with a heavy heart that I sign of this speech with a regret, a regret that we could not win this war but at least I take away the knowledge that we fought bravely against the odds and now as this period of change begins I can only hope you adapt to it as best as you can.” The general sighed. “This is General Westmoreland resigning from his post and signing off, god bless America.”
The camera cut from the tired man’s face and switched to that of a joyful General Sporrenberg. Even as Westmoreland was being led away by the Aryan guards, Sporrenberg took his seat at the president’s desk' a large swastika hung from the wall and dominated the background.
Jakob Sporrenberg sat and clasped his hands together; he took a deep breath and paused while he stared into the camera.
“Congratulations America, you fought well, bravely and honorably. I would have expected nothing less from this great nation. But now the winds of change have come to blow clean your stagnating Country.”
He leaned back. “After World War Two you rested on your laurels, you got weak and complacent as your forces managed to win the Korean War but you let your defenses down and now your Country belongs to us.”
“You will not enjoy the changes that are coming and at first you may despair but eventually you will see that the Master race will be where it belongs. Ruling the greatest country, the world will have ever known.”
&n
bsp; Sporrenberg smiled, “Welcome to the Fourth Reich, but this time we will rule for at least a thousand years. Together we will make this land a utopia for the master race.” Sporrenberg's smile turned into a contorted grin, “But don’t worry if you are not one of the elite, we will still find a place for you.
You can still have a role in our nation’s future.”
“The time for fighting is over. It is now time to pledge your allegiance not to a flag but to your new Führer. Heil Sporrenberg.”
Viewers from across the globe could barely believe what they were hearing, the United States did not exist anymore. And a madman has proclaimed himself the undisputed leader.
“My fellow Aryan's rejoice in the new world order we are creating, we are the new superpower of this world and in time every nation will be bowing down in awe of our majestic power.”
Führer Sporrenberg raised his hand in the identical salute that Hitler used to greet his followers.
Sporreberg smiled intently at the camera, “Heil...”
A streak of purple flashed across the screen, Sporrenberg was cut off mid sentence as seconds later his brains were blown clean out the side of his head. The light faded quickly from his eyes and he slumped back in his chair.
A man walked into the shot from the right and he marched over to the Nazi flag on the back wall, he forcefully pulled the flag from the wall and proceeded to cover Sporrenberg's lifeless body with it.
The man gently patted Sporrnberg's covered head before he walked over to the camera. He stared into the camera for a good minute. His cold calculating, ice blue eyes sent shivers down the spine of all that were watching.
The camera was shoved to the floor and then seconds later the whole screen went dark.
Atlantic Convoy
William Morgan Morris sat at his friends beside in stunned disbelief, what had he just witnessed. He had seen his country throw the towel in during the fight, the fight for their very existence and then the newly proclaimed leader of the United States had been assassinated by his advisor, live on television.
The side listed slightly to port as another large wave battered it. The gigantic aircraft carrier was thirty miles off the coast of Washington in the center of a huge convoy. The ships were mainly destroyers with a plethora of support vessels and five aircraft carriers.
The fleet was made up of injured troops and surviving forces that had managed to escape before the capital was encircled. They vessels were making their way across the great ocean to the United Kingdom where they planned to regroup.
William Morris sighed as he looked down into his best mates face. Brooklyn Jnr had been unconscious for three days now after his Phantom had been shot down by an enemy fighter. Brooklyn had taken the brunt of the impact and doctors did not know if he would ever recover.
Moose had found Brooklyn unconscious, tangled in his parachute. The radar operator had dragged his friend back through the deserted countryside until he came across a retreating US armored task force.
They had hitched a ride back to Washington where they were treated by medical staff in a field hospital. Moose had managed to grab a ride out of the doomed city on one of the last transport helicopters before all of the air support had been destroyed.
“If only you knew what has happened to us, if there were more people like you then we would still be fighting this war.” Morris grabbed a damp cloth from the bowl next to the bed and wiped Brooklyn’s temple.
"Come on mate, I know you can hear me in there, we need you back. We need all the good men we can get." Morris rested his head on his friend's chest and gently listened to his heartbeat' the rhythm and the steady rocking of the ship in the storm sent him into an uneasy sleep.
The head of the Navy Admiral Moorer was next in command now that Agnew was dead and Westmoreland signed the surrender document. The Admiral who was in his late fifties still smoked a pipe while on deck. He had contacted the United Kingdom to ask for assistance, which they had readily given.
Countries around the world started to communicate with each other in secret, most were too frightened to take any action but a few were willing to meet to discuss the future. Russia and China started the preparations for their commanders to meet in London with the British Prime Minister and the German Chancellor.
The meeting was set for five days’ time when the American's forces had reached England, the leaders knew something must be done but they did not know if they had the strength or the resources to take on the fearsome new threat; secretly many did not think they would be brave enough to even try.
Source of Power
The sun rose slowly over the fog-filled city, the day after the United States surrender was surreal for many of their citizens. They were rounded up by large forces of Aryan soldiers. Each person was summoned forth and was tested for their Nordic ancestry. Anyone who fell below the standard ninety five percent was taken out of line and held separately.
Armed forces personnel who surrendered without incident were not killed on sight, just like the late Jakob Sporrenberg had promised. They were given the same test as the rest of the population; anyone who was deemed not to be Nordic was put into separate transports.
The transports headed for Wright Patterson air force base. The old base was completely gone, what stood there in its place was hardly recognizable. The base was now a small city with large metallic buildings all across the center.
To the left of the main entrance was five tall buildings that looked like huge factories, to the side of these were smaller buildings that resembled flats. A huge fence ran around the border, it was fifteen-foot-tall with barbed wire all around the base and the top.
The right-hand side of the base was slightly friendly in its appearance; this was where the Nordic people were to be held. They were taken to slightly better accommodation than the non-Nordic population.
The former air force base now had three airfields, ME 262's took off around the clock as they joined the larger bombers on their new missions. They were used to level any city that was still resisting.
All across American cities, the Aryans arrived quickly and in force. People were forced to stand in line along the sidewalk and each was called forward to have their DNA tested. Anyone who did not comply was shot on the spot.
Advisor A watched from the central control tower as another transport arrived, the people that were contained inside were forced out into lines. A tall blonde Aryan soldier walked along the lines as he surveyed his new slaves.
The Nordic people were led into their holding pens, where they were duly processed. They were given uniforms. Dull grey in color and then they were taken for a medical in front of a stern-looking Aryan man.
The doctor took blood samples, heartbeat readings and a general medical examination was undertaken. Anyone who was found unfit to work was led away from the others. Their uniforms were removed and they were marched fully naked to the other side of the facility. They were housed with the Non-Nordics.
Advisor A had never told Sporrenberg that the Nordic people were always meant to be slaves. The title of Aryan was reserved for his troops, not the scum that stood before them. Advisor A soon had the slaves put to work.
The work was hard labor; the slaves were used to mine for resources, whether that were fossil fuels, any precious metals, or in some case even down the earth’s core itself. The gigantic specially designed drills fired superheated beams of pure plasma into the soil.
The drills needed to be kept cool and the Nordic slaves had to transport water from the central taps to keep the drills from overheating. A young man stumbled and dropped a huge tub of water across the cracked concrete.
An Aryan soldier strode over to the man and forced him to his feet, the young American held up his hands to protect himself but the Soldiers fist hit him square in the chest. The man fell to the floor where his face was pushed into the wet ground.
Another two of the slaves went to help him but they were quickly put down by plasma fire, the man was then
hauled to his feet again. The Aryan Soldier grabbed his neck and lifted him clean off of his feet. The Aryan pulled out a knife and slit the man’s throat.
As blood poured out on the concrete the Aryan turned to the horrified slaves, “This is a lesson to anyone who wastes water. Get back to work.”
The drills continued going until lava bubbled to the surface, only then would massive vehicles arrive and suck up the fresh magma through reinforced, metallic hoses; the vehicles looked similar in design to that of the Maus tanks but they did not have any weapons.
In the two days that followed the Aryan victory a huge number of slaves were put to work. They were used to collect timber. Huge lines of people were chained to each other as they chopped down logs. Then they were released to pick up the wood; anyone who tried to run was shot.
Others were picked up and transported to cities where they were tasked with going through the deserted buildings. Anything of value was taken. This included as much gold as could be found. Peoples abandoned jewelry was taken to be melted down.
The slaves who were used on this job had been given an injection before they were transported, the inoculation seemed to restrict freedom of thought and the slaves became compliant with any task requested.
In one particularly cruel experiment, one slave was ordered to beat another to a bloody pulp, the man complied implicitly and seemed to show no signs of remorse; the woman he had just beaten to an inch of her life was his wife of fifteen years.
The man watched emotionlessly as an Aryan took out a pistol and shot her through the head. Her body gurgled for a while before a couple of slaves were ordered to pack the body aboard a transport.
During the second night, the slaves that had been used as Guinea pigs started to display disturbing signs. Some went crazy and pulled their own hair out, they moved to their nails and forcefully pulled one off after another; they stood observing the blood pour out.
Others started to fall apart physically, parts of their bodies started to decompose at an alarming rate from the inside out. One really unfortunate young woman stood screaming as her arm went black and then fell apart in front of her eyes.