‘My God, Bob,’ uttered Liam, ‘this is the president’s laststand!’
Bob scanned the hall, the blockade, the marines ready to die.
‘Correct. The president called Eisenhower must be in this building.’
‘What do we do? Save him?’
Bob turned to Liam. ‘
‘What?’
‘You are in charge, Liam O’Connor.’
‘I… I… I don’t know what we should do.’
He looked out through the glass doors. Through the mist he could see little, but he couldimagine hundreds more faceless soldiers hidden behind gas masks forming up on the lawn infront of the grand steps and the portico and readying themselves for a final devastatingassault on the building.
Well, he’d already guessed that the American people hadn’t politely invited theseNazis to come on over and run their affairs. But they needed more details, details that wouldhelp them pinpoint the moment further back in the past where history had taken a turn in thisdirection.
‘We need to find out how things got like this.’ He turned to Bob.‘Right?’
‘Correct. Mission priority one: obtain information.’
‘OK,’ he replied, looking around the hall. ‘So we need to grab someone andask questions?’
‘Correct.’
Liam stepped forward through the dead and the dying. To their left was adoorway that led to a communications room. He could see soldiers on field radios, civilians ontelephones, typists and telephonists all making hurried calls, situation reports or, more thanlikely, final messages to loved ones.
To the right was a room full of desks and filing cabinets. It looked less busy. Liam steppedacross the carpet of bodies into the room. Some of the smoke from outside had leaked inthrough several shattered windows and the air was tinged with a fine yellow mist.
He spotted a man in a smart blue suit sitting on the floor between two filing cabinets, hisface covered in dust and dry-caked blood from a head wound.
The man stared into space in front of him. ‘This is it,’ he muttered, his voicecracked and tired. ‘It’s all over. They’re coming for us… coming toget us… to get us…’
Liam squatted down in front of him. ‘The Germans? Nazis?’
The man didn’t seem to hear the question, his eyes unfocused. ‘We should’veknown… should’ve prepared… should’ve realized this was going to happeneventually.’
Bob mimicked Liam’s posture and stooped down in front of the man. ‘Informationrequest: please tell us everything about your divergent history timeline.’
‘Bob?’
‘Yes, Liam?’
‘Let me try first, eh?’
He nodded. ‘You are the mission operative.’
Liam reached a hand out to the man and rested it on his shoulder.
‘Hello? Mister?’
The man’s eyes focused on him.
‘There isn’t much time,’ said Liam. ‘Listen to me, things
‘No…’ replied the man, shaking his head. ‘No, you’re
Liam looked at Bob questioningly.
‘Information: in the twentieth century, the Japanese launched a surprise attack on theUS naval base at Pearl Harbor. This act effectively brought America into the Second World-’
Liam held a hand up to hush him. ‘Tell me what’s been happening.’
‘What? Where on earth have you been?’ the man asked.
He shrugged. ‘At sea… for a long time.’
‘The Nazis launched an assault on the beaches of New England a couple of months ago.Overwhelmed our Atlantic defences like they were nothing, took New York inside of a week. Wemustered everything we had to hold ’em outside Washington. But… but they crushedour boys, swiped ’em aside. Their
The man suddenly looked up at Bob then back at Liam. ‘Wait! You said this isn’thow it should be. What’s going on? Who are you guys? SOE? Secret Serviceguys?’
‘This may sound incredibly strange,’ said Liam, ‘but you need to believewhat I’m about to say.’
‘What?’ The man shook his head. ‘What is it?’
‘We’re from the future. From the year 2001. And right now is a bit of historythat shouldn’t be happening.’
The man’s face hardened. ‘This ain’t a time to play the fool, son. I-’
‘He is correct,’ said Bob.
‘We’re sort of
The man stared at them both in silence. ‘You’re crazy.’
Liam shrugged. ‘I wish I could show you something to prove what I’m saying. But Ican’t.’
‘Mission parameter: we have nothing on us from the future. This is an observation-onlymission.’
Through the shattered windows they heard movement going on outside above the drone comingfrom the sky: men barking orders, the jangle of equipment belts, the cocking of weapons.
‘Oh Jesus, we’re dead men,’ cried the man. ‘There are rumours theirFuhrer wants to completely wipe clean America’s government: the president,Congress, the Senate, all the top-level civil servants. They’ll kill every last personthey find in the White House.’
‘Listen,’ said Liam, ‘we’re going to change this. We’re goingto stop this Hiffler from doing what — ’
The man looked up at him. ‘Hiffler? What the heck you talking about, son? You talking’bout
‘Yes, that’s it,
‘Correct. Adolf Hitler, the Fuhrer, leader of the Nazi Party and the ThirdReich.’
‘But that guy,
Liam and Bob stared at each other. ‘Assessment: history diverged at least ten yearsearlier than this time.’
‘1946 instead of ’56?’ Liam spoke under his breath. ‘We have to goback
‘That is correct.’
The man studied them both suspiciously. ‘Dammit, who are you guys,really? You Secret Service guys? Some kind of special forces or something? Tell me you gotsome secret plan… some kinda super weapon we can use back on ’em Nazis.Right?’
The sound of gunfire around the front entrance suddenly intensified.
‘They are coming now,’ said Bob. ‘We must leave. The portal is due to openin exactly one hour and thirty- three minutes.’
‘Right… but we know now that we’ve got to go back again… but
‘Correct.’
The man in the suit reached out and grasped Liam. ‘Have we got something secret hiddenaway? Some weapon we gonna fight back with?’
