Yup
I just added the last posts into the word document too.
;)

Edit: i hope i did not miss any post... :crazyeye:

Captain Mancuso opened the top hatch of the USS Dallas. Immediately water began to pour down onto the bridge. The chill as he poked his head through the hatch was biting. How could anybody be out in this, he thought.

He was followed out of the hatch by the chief of the boat, Master Chief Watson. Both men were wearing orange lifejackets. Below, on the deck of the Dallas, a crew was manning a lifeboat. Off to the distance Mancuso could see the Carthaginian fishing trawler floating aimlessly about; unable to make way, and thus unable to steer. Eight men were aboard, desperately clinging to life as their helpless ship was pounded by forty foot waves.

Currently, the two ships were in an area just above the Alaskan Aleutian Islands. This area was called the Doughnut. It was where two oceans met, and was one of the roughest seas in the world.

The Dallas, making ten knots, was in the trough, meaning that they were parallel to the waves, and in the area between them. The boat rocked sharply as wave after wave went under the boat. This was the only way to launch a lifeboat in this type of weather.

Finally, the boat made it's way to the trawler. Watson was eyeing the situation through his binoculars. "They're beginning to take on the crew, sir. Three men aboard."

"Very well," replied the captain.

"I'd like to know what they were even doing in these waters," Watson stated.

"Fishing, Chief," answered Watson. "One of God's great practical jokes is that the best fishing in the world is also in the roughest water in the world. There's no greater Halibut fishery than right here in the Doughnut."

"You wouldn't catch me out there, Captain."

"I would if I told you how much money these guys made for one trip. Each crewman makes about $30,000 for a thirty day fishing trip." Mancuso looked at Watson, who was suddenly silent.

After a few moments, Watson spoke. "Maybe I'll have to reconsider my previous position, Captain."

The crew of the trawler aboard, the lifeboat began to make its way back to the Dallas. Mancuso counted the heads on board. There were supposed to be eight Carthaginians, however he counted only six. Mancuso called the lifeboat on the two-way.

"Dallas-1, this is Dallas. How many do you have. Over."

"Dallas, Dallas-1," came the reply. "We've picked up six fishermen. The first mate said the the captain and the engineer fell overboard a half hour ago. The weren't able to pick them up. Over."

"Very well," replied the captain. "You have permission to come alongside. Out."

Slowly, the lifeboat came alongside and the crewmembers assisted the fishermen onto the Dallas and down below. Mancuso and the Master Chief watched until the last was aboard. "Chief, secure the lifeboat and get us under before we start getting sea-sick."

"Aye-aye, Captain," replied Watson, who then began to shout orders to the deckhands below. Mancuso went back down the hatch to take a look at the fishermen.

"A few of them have hypothermia, Captain," said the Dallas' chief corpsman. "This guys temperature is down to eighty-nine degrees."

"Do what you need to do, Chief," replied Mancuso.

The corpsman began to prepare a heat suit for the fisherman, who was shivering uncontrollably. "Get his clothes off," he ordered the other corpsman.

Mancuso watched as the crewman began to remove the fisherman's clothes. These men were tough, the fishermen. Working in these conditions was one of the hardest, most dangerous jobs a man could have.

The crewman removed the fisherman's shirt.

"Oh my god..." said the Captain.

Below the shirt, Mancuso could see that the man was completely covered in plastic explosives. He clenched his left hand and the Dallas sank to the bottom of the sea.

Wow. This is impressive..

Thanks Globetrotter! When this is over hopefully we can work on editing this thing. There are a bunch of parts that I'd like to re-work in the future.

http://www.civfanatics.net/uploads7/luxhello.gif http://www.civfanatics.net/uploads7/luxhello.gif http://www.civfanatics.net/uploads7/luxhello.gif http://www.civfanatics.net/uploads7/luxhello.gif http://www.civfanatics.net/uploads7/luxhello.gif

What else is there to say?

"They're taking me to Rome."

"I heard," said Brianna as she entered the room.

"Antony will most likely be there, as well. How he ever escaped is beyond me..."

Brianna said nothing, but felt a tingle in her shoulder where the bullet had entered her while assisting Antony.

Cleopatra turned away and out the window at Alexandria harbor. "I made poor decisions, Brianna. At first I led because of my love of my father. Then I led for the love of Egypt, then for the love of Caesar. Somewhere along the way I stopped leading for love, and began to lead for ambition."

"My queen, you were a wonderful ruler. You led Egypt out of poverty and seclusion into a new age. The people will remember you for your achievements, not for your failures."

Cleopatra turned to Brianna again. "Do you think so? Brianna, you have always served me. Much more, you've been a friend. You led me through some difficult times, and I thank you now, even though my actions recently may not have shown my appreciation."

Brianna had never seen the queen this way. She was remorseful, and almost in tears. It was clear that the Queen got in over her head. Indeed, she was just a girl put into an unenviable position. After a few more years she would certainly be a fine ruler, but she was too young for such a post.

"My queen, I only wish that you could have a few more years to prove your worth to Egypt."

"Yes, I would lead in a different way. I see now, my mistakes. Caesar guided me well. I ruled in his image, and my early success changed me. My ambitions and desires outweighed my capacity. I owe so much to Caesar, yet seem to have forgotten what made him a great leader."

"He could compromise," replied Brianna.

"Yes, that is what makes a great leader. And he listened to his advisors. He listened to Octavian and Antony, and even me to a certain degree. Under his tutilage Egypt would be great."

"When he was assasinated, you wanted to show that Caesar did not run Egypt, as some had suggested."

"Yes, Brianna. The papers had been calling us 'Italy East'. I wanted to prove that I could run this country without Caesar." Cleopatra looked down. "I failed miserably."

What could she say? thought Brianna. The queen had failed. She did not listen to her advisors, nor the advice of Antony and Octavian. In fact, she resented their proposals.Cleopatra should have listened, if for nothing else than to be political.

"I may be able to get you away. Tomorrow, during the parade." Brianna already knew what the Queen's response would be.

"For what, Brianna?" was the reply. "To be hunted throughout the world? The Romans are here. I can't run. Nobody will protect me. I made my bed. I have regrets, but I am prepared to live with them."

This may be her last time speaking to the queen. A tear rolled down Brianna's cheek. She had followed Cleopatra for several years. She had served as best she could, and comforted the queen on several occasions.

"Brianna, watch after Caesarium for me. See that he is safe and away from all of this. Octavian may wish his...removal...as he is an heir to both Egypt and Rome's seats of power. I do not wish him to be involved in any of this. Sheild him. Allow him to live as a common person. Allow him to be happy."

"I will be honored," replied Brianna.

Cleopatra began to walk towards Briana and embraced her. "I am sorry, Brianna. Take care of yourself."

"I will, your Highness."

"Go now. Gather Caesarium and go to the north. Find a small farming town. Be a normal family with my son. Find him a good father and just be happy."

"I will," replied Brianna. She held out her hand to the queen. "Here. I brought you some figs....."

Huascar was not quite sure when it all started. Somehow, the news of Atahualpa's killing had been interpreted as an assasination by Montezuma's security detail. Fires had broken out late that night in Tenochitlan. Violence followed when the police attempted to put down the rioters. It escalated from rock throwing to gunshots. By morning, two hundred citizens had been killed, and seventy five policemen.

The police had pulled back to secure locations by noon, but the violence followed them. Shouting "Down with Oppression," the rioters stormed government buildings throughout the city. These were not just the small Inca population of the country's capital city. Aztecs, too, were involved. The lines of distinction had faded.

Several cities to the south had been overrun in the past couple of days. Now the country's crown jewel city was in jeapardy. It would not be long before they reached the palace, which Huascar's current position overlooked. Already the sounds of gunshots and explosions could be heard through the government square.

Huascar had received the urgent word several hours ago. Montezuma wanted a meeting. No doubt, he would ask him to quell the rioting.

Hiawatha and Montezuma entered the hotel conference room accross the square from the palace. They were not surrounded by the usual security detail as befitting El Presidente. His resources depleted, Montezuma had sent all of the men he could to defend the capital. Now there was nothing left.

Huascar looked at the former Iroquois leader. He had a suggestive, but helpless look to him. Montezuma had the look of a defeated and desperate man.

"Huascar, you must put down this rebellion," said Montezuma. He spoke from a position of power. This was almost humorous, as he had little power left.

"I have not begun this rebellion," replied Huascar. "The people did."

"They look to you, though. You can put this down," said Hiawatha.

"They do not look to me. They are looking into themselves. This is what they want."

Montezuma's face turned stern. "They want rebellion? They want violence?"

"No, El Presidente," replied Huascar. "They want to speak. And they want to be heard. Something is happening now that they are responsible for, and it gives them great joy. For decades you have controlled these people. Now they are forcing themselves to be heard. These are the people that you led. You cannot stop them. If you kill ten of them, a hundred more will come back. You cannot stop them from being the people."

"I can when I bring the army in here," replied Montezuma. "I'll raize this city to the ground before I let this rabble have my palace."

Santa Ana entered the room, having heard El Presidente's latest remark. "If you bring the army into this you'll have a bigger fight than you can imagine."

"Ah, the traitor," said Hiawatha. "Come to collect your rewards, have you?"

Santa Ana looked at Hiawatha with disgust. "My reward will be to see that you no longer spoil the soil of Mexico." He looked toward Montezuma. "To continue. If you call on one of your loyal generals to fight for you I will call on one of your not-so-loyal ones to fight against you."

"Look out the window," said Huascar to Montezuma. "These are your people. Not your army. Not your polititians. It is them. These are the people whom you swore to protect and lead into prosperity so long ago. They want change. You can set the policies and make the laws, but these will always be the people. Individually they're little. But together they have a voice ten times yours. You cannot win, El Presidente. You cannot win."

Huascar motioned to Santa Ana and the two men left the room hearing Montezuma's shouts behind them.

"You can't leave! You're going to stop this! The two of you won't survive the night if you leave now! I'll see to it."

As he exited the room, Huascar nodded his head to a man in the lobby. El Mariachi arose and walked into the conference room.

Another fine part, heh, im repeating myself here :rolleyes:

I 'm subscribing to this thread. I don't want to miss a thing.

--SSgtBaloo

Originally posted by SSgtBaloo
I 'm subscribing to this thread. I don't want to miss a thing.

--SSgtBaloo

It took you a while to do that... ;)

Agent Sands took one last look at the business card: Hiraldo Rivera, Tenochitlan Daily News. He then placed the card in the shredder.

Now on to more pressing matters, he thought. A meeting with Hasdrubal, King Hanibal's brother. Sands would just be sitting in on this meeting. Ambassador Fredricks would do most of the talking.

Walking down the halls, Sands wondered what was coming of America's relationship with Carthage. It had started out so well; Carthage was already a favored trade partner. Then the violence began. The bombings in American restaurants, and now this. Sitting at the conference room table, Sands wondered what would become of this.

"Agent Sands, remember: I'll do the talking. You are here only to observe," said Fredricks.

Sands looked at the ambassador. He a thin man with black, thick rimmed glasses. In fact, the man looked a bit squeamish.

"Gotcha," he replied, then made some notes on his notepad.

"He should be here soon," continued Fredricks. "You are the deputy ambassador. How should I introduce you?"

Sands looked up for a moment, then replied. "Uh...Ambassador Sands?"

"Yes, but what is your first name?" asked Fredricks.

"Agent."

"No, when I introduce you..." a knock came at the door. An aid presented Hasdrubal.

"Prince Hasdrubal," said Fredricks. "I am Ambassador Henry Fredricks." He gestured towards Sands. "With me is Deputy Ambassador Sands."

The prince and ambassador shook hands. Hasdrubal then turned to Sands. "Mr Deputy Ambassador, what is your first name?"

Sands was about to reply: "Ag-"

"May we get started, your highness?" interupted Fredricks. The three men sat while the ambassador continued. "On March 3rd, a Carthaginian fishing trawler sent out an SOS claiming that they had lost their engines. The United States dispatched a submarine at great risk to rescue the fishermen. When we heard nothing from the Dallas nor the fishing trawler my government feared the worst, for both our sailors and yours."

"Yes," said Hasdrubal. "Is was a very unfortunate situation."

"Of course," continued Fredricks, annoyed by the interruption. "Yet this morning that very same fishing trawler, the Gorche, came in to port here in Carthage."

"It did," replied Hasdrubal. "We are conducting an internal investigation into this matter and will provide you with the results immediately upon completion."

"And when will this investigation be completed?" asked Fredricks.

"Two weeks. The investigators must examine the Gorche and interview the crewmembers."

"I understand that there were only two crewmembers on board when the trawler came in," continued Fredricks.

"Yes," replied Hasdrubal. "The captain and engineer were the only survivors. It was a tragic situation for both my country and yours."

Fredricks looked at the prince solemnly. "Your highness, the president wishes to send his deepest condolences to you and your countrymen for the lost crew of the Gorche. I await the details of your investigation."

"And King Hannibal sends his regards to the family members of the crew of the Dallas," replied Hasdrubal. Both he and Fredricks stood and shook hands as if to end the meeting.

"Was the trawler under its own power when she came in to port?" asked Sands suddenly. He was not one for this diplomatic protocol.

Fredricks turned to Sands. He had a worried look on his face for a moment, then turned back to Hasdrubal and smiled confidently. "I think that we can wait for the prince's report, Deputy Ambassador Sands."

Not good enough, thought Sands. "It's a simple question, Hasdrubal. Was the trawler under its own power or was she towed?"

"Mr Deputy Ambassador," replied Hasdrubal sternly. "You should listen to your mentor. He is much more wise in these matters than you. And you will address me as 'Prince Hasdrubal' or 'Your Highness' when speaking with me."

He was getting to him, thought Sands. "Well, at the risk of beginning a diplomatic incident, can you answer the damn question?"

"Mr Deputy Ambassador," said Fredricks. "You are excused."

"No need for that," interjected Hasdrubal. "I will take my leave."

"I want to be a part of this investigation," said Sands.

"I think not," replied the prince indignantly.

"Are you hiding something?"

"Sands!" shouted Fredricks.

Sands ignored the embassador. "I want to inspect the trawler. I also want unsupervised meetings with the captain and engineer."

Hasdrubal looked Sands in the eye. "Where do you think you are, Deputy Ambassador Sands? This is not your country. You do not make the rules here. I will provide my report to the embassador in two weeks. If you continue on this path I will see to it that your diplomatic status is revoked and you are expelled from this country." The prince stormed out of the room.

"Now you've done it, Sands," said Fredricks. "What on earth were you thinking?"

"Do you think that this report he's going to give you will say anything other than the engines died, then were restarted? They did something, and I'm going to find out what." Sands stood and left the room. Enough of this deputy ambassador stuff. He was a CIA agent, and it was about time he acted like one.

edit: embassador = ambassador

"So much for the trial," Lepidus said, stating the obvious.

"It's sad," said Octavian. "We can put whatever we want into the newspapers here. But unless they were to hear it from the queen herself it will all be conjecture. As far as the Egyptian people know, we came here and overthrew the government."

"And still no nuclear missiles were found."

This was what bothered Octavian the most. He knew that Cleopatra had these weapons. They were in the country somewhere. But in a land that is mostly dessert where does one begin to look for them? The queen was wise to hide them. It made Octavian look bad. It made him seem an aggressor. His detractors on the senate were growing stronger and stronger every day that these weapons were not found.

"We'll find them. It is only a matter of time, Lepidus."

"How can our motives be questioned, is what I don't understand," said Lepidus. "She used these weapons on us. On the Americans."

"Yet she didn't succeed," replied Octavian. "Our goal here was to remove from power someone who has the capacity to anihilate the world. We removed her from power, yet the world now believes that she no longer had this power. Our people said that they saw the weapons. Now they're gone. Our oposition wants to use this against us. They know that the weapons were here, but the longer it takes for us the find them the more ammunition they have against us."

"Not only that," added Lepidus, "but we gave a state secret away to the Americans."

"We had to do that. It saved millions of lives."

Rameses entered the room. No doubt the man was frightened, thought Octavian, yet he stood proudly. Ready to receive his fate.

"General Rameses," Octavian began. "You were a part of the invasion of the Northern Province, were you not?"

"Yes, I was."

"Can you give me any reason why I shouldn't have you arrested and taken to Rome for trial?"

"No, Emperor," replied Rameses. "I fought for Egypt as all good soldiers did. It was my duty, and I would do it again."

"You're aware what happened to your boss, General Tut?" asked Lepidus.

Rameses lowered his head. "Yes. I am aware," he said. Tut did not go down quietly. He held out in his home for several days. On the third day the Romans convinced him to release his family. Two days later Tut came out fighting. He killed five Roman soldiers before falling.

"Why did you not take the same course of action?" asked Octavian.

Rameses looked up at Octavian sternly. "Tut fell like a criminal. And if I may say so, Queen Cleopatra did as well. They did not represent Egypt in the end. They represented themselves. They were cowards in the end."

"You find it more couragious to surrender to Roman soldiers than to go out fighting, like Tut did?" asked Lepidus.

Rameses turned to the junior Emperor. "What good did his death do? He was not killed in battle. The battle never began. He died as a criminal does. Desperate in the end. I stand before you now not because I wish you to judge me, but because you wish to judge me. I did not attempt to fight my way from your soldiers. It would have been futile."

Octavian liked what he heard. This man knew the value of human life. He knew honor and dishonor. Tut dishonored the men who fought for him by ending himself like a cornered rat. Rameses stood now for his men. Ready to accept Octavian's judgement.

"Rameses," said Octavian. "I will be establishing an interim government here in Alexandria. I will also leave your soldiers - and only your soldiers - with their weapons. They will be the country's security during the interim government. I want you to arrange for general elections to take place in six months. You will arrange for each of your territories to elect a representative. These representatives will create your constitution. After six more months you will hold an election for your president. During this period, you will lead the Egyptian people as their interim president, with my backing."

Octavian saw the suprise in Rameses' eyes. The man probably anticipated dying today, or at the least, being arrested.

"By the way, Rameses," added Lepidus. "I suggest that you run for the position of elected president. Egypt needs a stong president with morals and courage."

More shock and awe from Rameses. "We will take our leave back to Rome now," said Octavian. "I will leave a division here to help keep the peace. Do not be intimidated by them. They stay only to see that nobody interferes with your duties."

-----------------------------------------------

Agent Sands crept silently along the dark harbor. Just at the end of the pier some men were unloading materials from the trawler. It wasn't fish, thought Sands. He crept closer. There were three men. They were carrying what appeared to be log books and heavy boxes down the brow.

Sands walked slowly over to the men. As he came out of the darkness they stopped and looked at him.

"Hey, guys!" said Sands. "What are you doing?"

The three men looked at each other, perplexed. Finally one of them spoke. "This is a private dock."

Sands laughed. "I know. I'm agent Sands with the CIA." He held up his CIA identification to the dockworkers. "I need to know what you're unloading from that trawler."

"Do you have permission to be here?" the first dockworker asked.

"I told you," answered Sands. "I'm with the CIA."

The dockworkers again looked at each other, not certain exactly what to do. Sands decided to help them out.

"Here. Why don't you give me these books to look over while you keep pulling those boxes from the boats. Don't drive off with them yet. I need to see them," he warned.

The men continued to look at each other. Finally, the first dockworker put his box down, shrugged, and went back to work. Idiots, thought Sands. Where is the security in this country? He began to look through the logs. There was an engineering log and a ship's log. All with very good detail.

March 3rd was what he was looking for. Seeing the date in both logs, Sands found what he came for. No, the ship's engines were not giving them trouble. There was no record of them being shut down except for a thirty minute stretch beginning at 0900. Coincidentally, that was when the Dallas was supposed to be onsite to rescue them.

Sands knew that the boxes would contain plastic explosives. He didn't even need to look. Although he did anyway because he'd never seen plastic explosives before.

Taking the log books, Sands headed back down the pier.

"You can't take those!" shouted the dockworkers.

Sands turned around. "Yes I can," he held up his ID again. "I'm with the CIA." He continued to walk down the pier. Sands was not suprised that the dockworkers didn't follow him.

"shock and awe?" Fruitless searches for WMD's? Interim governments? Do I detect a hint of current events? :lol:

It's getting even better!:goodjob: :) :)

It had been many years since Octavian walked the streets of Caesaria. This had always been Antony's territory. Yet that was no more. Antony's funeral was held this morning. It was a solemn ceremony. Roosevelt attended, as did Rameses. Lepidus provided a heartwarming benediction. It had been suggested that Octavian himself give this benediction, however that was thought to be inapropriate due to the two men's relationship over the last few years.

Looking up, Octavian saw the cause of Antony's death. Without Antony's leadership the structure would have taken years to produce. Unfortunately, the tiring work and related stress took their toll on him. He passed several days ago.

This was Antony's monument to peace. The United Nations would forever be a place where great leaders went to solve their problems, rather than doing so on the battlefield. It was clear that Antony was remorseful of his actions with Cleopatra. This was both his apology and his plea to the world to stop the fighting.

There would be one more fight. This time, though, it would not be done on battlefields or at sea or in the air. This fight would be in the political offices throughout the world.

"Now is a time for action," said Octavian suddenly.

"What are your intentions?" asked Lepidus.

"Realistically, nobody but Roosevelt can challenge me for General Secretary," replied Octavian. "No doubt the Egyptians will side with us."

"Their vote will be cancelled by the Aztecs," Lepidus pointed out. "Without American involvement, Huascar would never have come to power."

"That leaves only Hannibal," Octavian said. "He hates the Americans, yet I wonder...does his hatred for them go beyond life and death? Would he abstain his vote so that he can continue to kill Americans?"

Lepidus looked suprised. "How could he? For every American he kills Roosevelt will kill a hundred Carthaginians."

"Does that matter to him?" asked Octavian. "My sources say that Hannibal cares of nothing but killing Americans."

"Why does he hate them so?"

"Hannibal is a proud man. The Americans defeated the French many years ago, killing his father in the process. Hannibal swore his revenge decades ago as a boy. Now he is acting on that anger."

"Can we get to him?" asked Lepidus.

"With what? We can't just attack them. They haven't provoked us. The senate will not allow a war for no reason."

"You control the senate, Octavian. They will listen to you."

Octavian stopped his walk and looked at Lepidus. "Times are different now. If I force the senate to declare war it will make a mockery of what we are doing in Egypt. We directed Rameses to create a representative government over there. We allied ourselves with them so that they would have assistance and security. If I were to force a war against Carthage we could lose Egypt's vote at the general assembly."

"Perhaps there is some other form of persuasion you could use."

"Perhaps. I will have to speak with Hannibal."

Is this almost over?
I'd hate to see it end. :(

All good things must come to an end i guess :(

when it ends you could submit it to Apolyton's story contest. I think it could win.

Originally posted by EQandcivfanatic
when it ends you could submit it to Apolyton's story contest. I think it could win.

I think it would win by sheer scope and size alone. No other story that I have seen has ever been compiled of so many words, and over so long of time.

This story could be complete crap (which it certainly is not), and I would still give it an award for diligence and longstandingness.

I loved the interaction between Agent Sands and the dockworkers! Hee-hee-hee! I saw similar goings-on during my stint in the military, though not to such an extreme. If you act as though you have every right to be doing what you are doing, especially when dealing with folks who are accustomed to imperious behavior from authority figures, you are apt to get away with d*mn near anything!

I found it both funny and believable.

--SSgtBaloo

One of my favorite scenes from Once Upon A Time in Mexico was when Sands was at the bullfight wearing a t-shirt with CIA written in giant letters. It was like he was using his CIA status as a shield, saying "you can't touch me - I'm in the CIA." His was a great character in that movie.

Zeeter , a piece of advice . Copyright this thing before anyone else does . It is almost novel-length , and there are enough unscrupulous characters out there to steal this .

Technically, this story may be the property of CivFanatics since it is their forum. I would hope that if they ever did anything with it they would involve me somehow.

No, it is copyright of the person who wrote it, which is you. And since this is the internet all you would have to do is prove that you are the in fact the zeeter on this forum, and you would have your copyright.

Anybody think we should find Zeeter, capture him, and force him to finish the story lol. just kidding mate.

LOl hahaa so funny :) i love ur story Zeeter man so good

Zeeter, i can't find the words to describe your story...
Marvelous!!!
(i even named a GL after you in one of my games!!!) :)



I made a civilization for you zeeter lol

I made a civilization for you zeeter lol

:lol: LoL. Next steps will be books and movies! ;)

Worry about the finish here first lol

Memphis was a pleasant place. The cradle of Egypt's agriculture, the city didn't have the expensive buildings of the bigger cities. The people there were poor, but they got along well. The streets were filled with performers of all kinds. Magicians thrilled the children with their tricks. Every corner had a guitar player singing old favorites. Clowns rode their unicycles up and down the sidewalks, stopping to entertain youngsters on their way. At the end of the day these street performers had little more than a few gold coins in thier purses, but that was enough.

It was a happy place, filled with happy people who didn't need stock exchanges or universities. They got by on their meager wages and didn't complain about it. There was crime in Memphis, but nothing major. The chief of police was reluctant to enforce the word of the law except in extreme circumstances. These people, far from the seat of power in Alexandria, could get away with skimming from the top of their grain shipments. They needed to feed their families, and Alexandria and Thebes were still getting more than enough grain to feed their populations.

Memphis was also an anonymous place. Outside of the city itself were vast fields of wheat as far as the eye could see. A person could get lost out there. The fields were like the middle of the ocean. Which way do you sail when everything looks the same? Someone wanting to hide could not do much better than to find a small farmhouse amidst these fields.

The citizens of Memphis were well aware of the anonymous nature of some if it's people. They were also well aware of the need to keep the government out of their back yard. Despite the vast populous of the city, the people kept to themselves. Outsiders were welcomed, but not accepted for a very long time. In other words, what happened in Memphis stayed in Memphis.

Brianna watched Alexander running with the dog in their back yard. He was a handsome young man; all of fourteen and with the look of his father. He was a happy boy, and each day Brianna loved him more and more.

Alexander remembered his mother, but only the good. Brianna was adamant in keeping his mother's position a secret. At the age of five the boy did not understand that he was a Prince of two nations. Now he didn't even think about it. He was Brianna's son, regardless of their blood differences. He called her Mom, and that was all that she needed.

There were no more secret meetings. No more dangerous missions. No more political games to play. There was just Alexander. The past few years had gotten even better. Now that Alexander was old enough to help in the fields they were able to double their grain production. It wasn't much; just enough to pay the bills and put some money away to send the boy to agriculture school.

Times had certainly changed from the elaborate parties held in great palaces throughout the world. Throughout her life, Brianna wanted to be a part of something. She wanted to be accepted by the Queen and her cabinet. She did what she could to remain abreast of world events.

Now these desires were mere memories. Brianna knew now that all along what she really wanted was to be accepted by herself. It took a mere boy to help her realize that. Alexander did not love her because of what she did in the past, but for who she was now. She did not have to earn his favor as she did for the elite in Alexandria. Brianna was there for him, and that was all that mattered. Not wealth or power. Just a reliance on each other and the knowledge that whatever happened, they still had each other.

"Mom! Look!" Alexander said as he and the dog ran back through the field. He was pointing to the dirt road that led to the house.

Brianna looked down the road and her heart sank. A large limosine was coming towards the house.

"Get inside the house, Alex," she said softly.

Alexander looked at Brianna, then back at the car. "But mom!"

Brianna looked at him. "No buts. Get in the house. Now!"

Watching the car drive up, Brianna thought of the shotgun that they used to drive birds away from the crops. It was in her room. There wasn't time.

The car drove up and stopped a few feet from Brianna. She waited a few moments for the back door to open. Eventually, the driver exited. Instead of opening the back door, he approached her.

"Brianna! It's good to see you!" he said.

Brianna recognized him immediately. He was American, and unforgettable. He wore a sportjacket overtop of a white t-shirt. The t-shirt said, of course, "CIA" in big, bold letters.

"Agent Sands," she looked longingly out into the fields rather than at the CIA agent. "It's been a long time."

"Yes it has," replied Sands with a huge smile. "Yes it has."

"What do you want?"

"Can't two colleagues visit one another without expecting something?"

"No, not you, Sands," replied Brianna. "What do you want."

"Ok, you've got me," said Sands. "I need your help with something."

"What is it?"

"It is a delicate matter involving someone of great importance in Alexandria."

Alexandria, Brianna thought. She hadn't been there in almost a decade. "I don't do that kind of work anymore, Sands."

"Yes, I know. You're a farmer now," replied Sands sarcastically. "I can tell by your house that you're doing quite well."

Brianna looked at her house. The paint was peeling from the walls and several of the upstairs windows were broken. Off to the side of the house the shed was still without a roof; the result of a tornado two years ago.

"We get by quite well," she said finally.

"Yes, yes," said Sands. "And how is your boy? Will you be sending him to school?"

"I don't know. Leave him out of this."

"I'm just saying, Brianna, that if you help me out here, I can see that Alexander goes to the finest farming school in America."

"We have plenty of farming schools here in Egypt. We'll get by. Please don't bother me with this. We only want to be left alone. I haven't been in the life for a long time."

"I understand, Brianna," said Sands. "In fact, I feel for you. Sometimes I wish that I could get away from all of this. The danger, the excitement, the women. It's a tough life. Awe, who am I kidding. I love it. But you, I only hope that my Supervisor understands your situation. I told him that you were a good girl now. Had a son. Living off of the land. It's really a Hallmark Hall of Fame type of life you have here. That's why it will be so hard when I tell my boss that I've found you and Caesarian."

Brianna's blood went cold. "His name is Alexander."

Sands looked at her for a few moments silently.

Finally he said, "How is Caesarian, anyway?"

-----------------------------------------------------

Glad to see your still writing...

Glad to see your still writing...

Nuff said, if it wasnt for the 10 characters limit :rolleyes:

Two wars were fought on the Italian homeland long ago. So long ago, in fact, that Ocatavian was just a small boy at the time. He did not remember the fear that struck people when first the Iroquois and then the Aztecs held lands in Italy.

To know that at any time violence could erupt in his lands was not a situation that Octavian had experience with. Certainly the Unfinished Isle and the Northern Provinces were dangerous in the past, but the people in those lands knew the dangers and were willing to live with them.

Home was a different matter entirely. Octavian tried to understand Roosevelt's position. The American president had much to deal with. At any moment he could be called to the situation room to discuss a bombing in his homeland. His people were torn over how best to end the violence.

Octavian looked out the palace window in Rome at the central courtyard. He remembered sneaking peaks at Caesar and Cleopatra while they sat talking in that very courtyard. Caesarian would play while they talked. That was a long time ago. A simpler time. Battle lines were drawn. The enemy was Hiawatha and Montezuma. Sometimes, Lincoln stood on the side of the enemy. Egypt and Rome were always friends. Out of necessity mostly. Egypt needed protection. Rome needed an ally.

Rome stood alone for decades against much of the world. They stood proudly, but it was costly. Each man that fell in their wars was Roman. The addition of Egypt helped save Rome by evening the playing field, if only a little. Now each man that fell could be either Roman or Egyptian. Suddenly the odds were more favorable towards Caesar.

Now Rome stood alone again, however so did its biggest adversary. While Rome and America were not quite enemies, they were rivals. The two countries respected each other tremendously. Each knew that the other wanted only what was best. Octavian hoped that Roosevelt's policy was still the same.

"We need to stop this violence," he said.

"The Americans are not the cause of the violence," replied Roosevelt. "We want it to stop more than anything."

"For almost ten years you've wanted it to stop, yet it still moves on."

"Hannibal's people will stop at nothing to kill Americans. They see it as their duty from birth," answered Roosevelt.

"Yes, Hannibal," replied Octavian. "He hides on the strees of Carthage, directing violence at his own whim."

"The man is pure evil," Lepidus interjected.

"Yet there is a peaceful solution," said Octavian.

"Octavian, my advisors and I have been over every scenario possible. There is no peaceful solution short of killing Hannibal."

"Bah. Killing Hannibal will only make him a martyr. Besides. You need him."

Roosevelt laughed. "Yes, like I need a hole in my head. I'm telling you, we've had our best people on this. Killing Hannibal will destroy their leadership. His brother is incapable of rousing the people like he is."

"His brother only needs to say Hannibal's name a few times. That's all the Carthaginians need to hear," Octavian retorted. "No, there is another option."

Roosevelt sighed. No doubt he was not keen on receiving advice from Octavian. "Ok, Octavian. What do you suggest?"

Octavian turned sharply and looked the president in the eye. "You can vote for me at the next General Assembly meeting."

Roosevelt's jaw dropped. He looked at Octavian in shock. "What...." he couldn't help but start to laugh. "I'm sorry. What did you just say?"

"Think about it, Mr. President," said Lepidus. "Hannibal will no longer be fighting Americans. He will be fighting the world. His power will be diminished."

Octavian agreed. "Should you take over Carthaginian lands it will only mean more violence against your people. If you vote for me at the UN I will ensure that the violence ends."

"First of all," said Roosevelt, "my people would never forgive me for electing you as Secretary General. They have pride in knowing that they are the greatest country on the planet.

"Second of all, if I may be so bold, I hold the same ambitions as you, Octavian. Wouldn't the same be accomplished if you voted for me?"

"No. In fact it would weaken you," said Lepidus.

"If I voted for you then the world would know that I did so only to stop the violence in Carthage. You would be a lame duck Secretary. The world would see me as a martyr, and you as a tyrant. By voting for me you would become a hero. You would be giving up great power to your rival for the better good."

"And let Hannibal get away with his actions? He shows up out of nowhere as a bumbling old man but he's sly. He know how to hurt Americans. Not by direct assaults, but by small, anonymous acts of violence. He is simply evil."

"Yes," replied Octavian. He turned around and looked out the window again. "He is evil. But the world needs him."

"The world needs him dead," said Roosevelt.

Octavian went on. "The world needs him so that we may move forward." He turned back towards Roosevelt. "Don't you see, Mr President? You and I. Our countries. We've always fought for what is good and right in the world. Perhaps our actions were misguided, but our intentions were always good.

"Without Hannibal what is good? Our rivalry will continue, and eventually either in our lifetimes or our successor's we will come to blows. One of us will be the evil in the world. Or Huascar or Rameses will take on the roll.

"We don't know what the future will hold, but we do know that there will be good and evil. They go hand in hand, for without evil there can be no good. Look at us. We consider ourselves the greatest nations on earth, yet we look down on the poorer nations.

"The Aztecs. We consider them mere pawns in the world. When they speak at the UN we're polite, but do their opinions matter? They're Aztecs. We look down our noses at them and assume that they will go along with whatever we say. They dominate nothing, and therefore are irrelevant to us. They know it. They live in a world where they are overshadowed by us. To Huascar I'm sure that you and I are evil. But Huascar needs your protection.

"Hannibal doesn't need protection. His people have followed him for generations, and will do so until they die. In a sense they are fighting for their independence. To be recognized by the rest of the world by saying 'here we are. You may not like us, but you have to deal with us.'"

"Hannibal wants Americans dead," said Roosevelt. "Not Romans or Egyptians or Aztecs. Only Americans. It's more than recognition that they want."

"Yes," replied Octavian. "It is more. But you cannot fix that. It happened long before you were relevant to the world. No matter what you do the Carthaginians will hate you. And I agree. To pull back now would be worse than finishing them off. It will validate what Hannibal has done. They'll push further next time, knowing that they'll get what they want."

"What has all of this to do with you?" asked Roosevelt.

"It has nothing to do with me. This is why you must vote for me at the General Assembly. The world will accept no other leader."

Roosevelt sat silently for a few moments, then began to wheel himself towards the door. Lepidus stood to assist the President. "I'll think about it, Octavian," Roosevelt said as a Secret Service operative wheeled him away.

Excellent addition !

"And look at this one!"

Agent Sands was being entertained by young Alexander. He truly was a remarkable boy.

"See? The peas are just starting to blossom." Alexander was holding up a potted plant. "I've been feeding it a special formula."

Sands at first was trying to feign amazement, but as he looked at the plant he truely was impressed. "You really have a knack for this, don't you?"

"Naw. I just like it."

"You'll make a good farmer someday, Alexander," said Sands.

Brianna stood at the stove pouring coffee. "He's well on his way, Sands," she said, then turned to Alexander. "Ok, Alex. Take your plants and go in the other room. Agent Sands and I have to talk about some things."

Alexander took the plants that he was showing off with in the other room and began mixing up new feed formulas.

"He's a good boy," said Sands. "Very outgoing. Odd, since he's so far from civilization."

"Alex has his father's confidence and his mother's charm," Brianna replied.

"A dangerous combination," said Sands. No doubt the boy would make a good politician. No wonder Brianna brought him here. Octavian was a good man, but a smart man. He had eliminated all of his rivals save Lepidus, who was more or less a figurehead on the Unfinished Isle. While Alexander was not yet a rival, he could be someday, and his blood relation to Caesar would make him very popular with the Romans.

"Yes, it is dangerous. I worry about him all the time. I want to keep him out of Alexandria, both for his safety and to shield him from the politics of the world. We don't even have a television here."

"I see that," said Sands. "That means that you have no idea of what's happening now."

"I pick things up from time to time when we run in to Memphis for supplies. Rameses seems to be running things well. The people are happy with him."

"According to my bosses, they are too happy with him."

"What are you trying to say, Sands?"

"We've got to fix some plumbing in Alexandria." Fixing the plumbing was agent-speak for assasinating someone. This term was more common in Rome, but Sands liked the way it sounded.

"I see," said Brianna. "You seem bitter about something."

"No, nothing about you. I'm angry with the limo company. The dispatcher saved my car for me, but never assigned a driver. I had to drive over here myself. We had a big shouting match."

"You want me to kill the dispatcher?" asked Brianna.

"No, I'll do that. I have to return the limo anyway. What I need you to do is take care of Rameses."

"I can't do this, Sands. I've changed. I can't kill anyone anymore."

"I promise you, Brianna, that this will be the last that you'll ever see me. Nobody will know that you're here. You'll be free to live out your life in peace. I'll even arrange a scholarship for Alexander."

"What if I refuse?" Brianna asked as she placed a cup of coffee in front of the CIA agent.

Sands thought for a moment. He truly hated what he was about to say, and hoped that he wouldn't be the one to do it. "Brianna, I will have to tell my superiors that you refused to cooperate."

Brianna sat down accross from Sands and closed her eyes. "We have a long history."

"Yes, we've been all over. We worked together in Rome, Caesaria, and all over Zululand." Sands was brought back to a small, nameless town in Zululand. Both he and Brianna were on secret assignments. Both of these assignments were jeapardized when they saw each other. But their relationship began here. It was an odd relationship. Neither trusted the other, but that was what made it exciting. During that time Sands wasn't sure if Brianna would kiss him or shoot him. The feeling was exhilerating, and she was the first person ever to get between him and a mission; a fact which Director Ryan frequently reminded him. Since then Sands had not allowed another woman to interfere with his job.

There had been other women, but none of them affected him the way that Brianna did. The other women were temporary. Usually he met them in bars or strip clubs. Brianna was different. She could see through his bulls**t. In Zululnad, for once he had to be truly honest with someone about how he felt. He allowed himselft to be vulnerable,if only for a few weeks.

Sands was pretty sure that Brianna felt the same way. He had met her several times before Zululand. She was with Brutus at one point, and it was immediately clear to Sands that she was on assignment and had no feelings for the man. It was also Sands who let her know that the Roman intelligence agency, mostly criminals, was onto her. In effect, he saved her life. But in Zululand he offered her nothing. She had absolutely no operational reason to stay with him, yet she did anyway. No doubt, Sands thought, that she was happy not hiding behind a scheme anymore. She had nothing to hide from Sands in Zululand, and thus could be herself for once.

"My obligation is to Roosevelt, Brianna." Sands picked up his coffee to take a sip, then stopped suddenly, looking at the cup.

"Oh for heaven's sake," said Brianna irritably. She reached over, grabbed the cup from Sands, took a sip, and handed it back.

Sands waited a moment, shrugged, then began to drink his coffee. "Anyway, something very big is about to happen, and Rameses is in the way. The fact that I came here jeapardized the operation. I can't leave here without a commitment from you."

"I could get my shotgun out of the back and pretend you were never here. I can park your limo in the wheat fields."

"You could do that," said Sands. "But you won't. If I'm gone someone else will come to your door. Someone who doesn't give a s*** about you. Someone who would kill you and Alexander before you got done saying 'no'. Do you think that I was the first person assigned to this? I was in the middle of the whole Carthage thing when this plan was drawn up. I wouldn't let them send anyone else here."

"It seems then that I have no choice," said Brianna.

"I wish there was another way," Sands replied as he stood to leave. "Meet me outside the palace in two days."

looking forward to the next bit, though i am curious how you plan to bring an end to this. After all it has to finish before it can win the Apolyton Story Contest

Can't wait till you get this finished so I can finally read it all...I haven't read much here on the forum...waiting for a more readable word file or txt file to be compiled.

Superb, i had gave up on you lol

Is there a modern compiled version of this for MS Word? I want to provide it as a download story for SCC. :D

Wow we need to make this into a book, it would be a bestseller :mischief:

Zeeter,You be my new civ! The Zeeters!

Is there a modern compiled version of this for MS Word? I want to provide it as a download story for SCC. :D

I got one, as i started to add them into a word document ever since Zeeter started this story. I sent it to Zeeter a while ago, and i'm keeping adding each post as they come (i hope i did not miss any)

I will give it to Zeeter once it is done, and then, he'll decide whether to make it public or not ;)

Sunlight crept through the clouds for the first time in a week. Roosevelt was feeling better. He had his aid wheel him hout to the balcony of the White House to enjoy the brief respite from the storm.

After a few moments, Dr. Jack Ryan joined him.

"Good morning, Mr. President," said the CIA director.

"Jack. How are you today?"

"Very well, sir."

"What do you have for me?"

"Carthage is still a mess."

"Yes, what else is new?" replied the president. "I don't know if even the American Flag flying over every Carthaginian city will stop the violence."

"Then why not pull out, sir?" asked Ryan. "We can't accomplish anything there."

Roosevelt looked at Ryan. He had long thought of this, but there was one thing that kept the troops there.

"Jack - we lose an average of a soldier a day in Carthage. Some days we don't lose any. Other days we lose five or six to truck explosions or some other kind of violence."

"That is my point, Mr President," said Ryan. "Americans are becoming angry that the violence continues and our boys are dying. And for no other cause than revenge for what they did here."

"Exactly, Jack," replied Roosevelt. "Revenge for what they did here. And our soldiers in Carthage are targets for all kinds of violence. Yet what you're missing is that the violence is all centered in Carthage. American civilians have not been targeted since that fateful day of the coordinated bombings. Eventually, we will get down to the very last terrorist. For every American casualty in Carthage we've captured or killed ten insurgents.

"It takes time to plan and coordinate an attack here in America. There's all sorts of red tape just to get into the country, not to mention getting the supplies they need. In Carthage it is easier. So why attack difficult targets here when they can attack easy targets in Carthage?"

"I see your point, Sir."

"I don't like it that our boys are dying over there. Don't like it one bit. Yet they are better prepared to handle violence than civilians here in America. They're trained for it. Every day they get better at preventing violence. Our people don't like the fact that our soldiers are dying over there, and we'll keep it that way. Lest we open ourselves up for attacks here."

Ryan stood awkwardly for a few moments. No doubt something else was on his mind, thought FDR.

"Is there anything else, Jack?"

"Yes, sir. The Egypt situation is moving along. Our man there has made contact with the old rule's agent and we'll have something set soon."

"I don't know anything about that," said Roosevelt.

"All due respect, best that you don't know, Sir."

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Who is this 'Sands' character," asked Lepidus. He was seated accross from Anthony Soprano.

"He's some dumb f*** who thinks he's a big shot."

"Is he a threat?"

"Maybe," replied Tony.

Lepidus wasn't liking recent events. Suddenly there was much ado about espionage in Egypt.

"Do you know what he's up to? Come on, Tony. Stop being so vague...."

"No. He's made contact with the old rule's underground is all that we know."

"I don't like what's going on here. Uncertainty could kill us all." Lepidus looked Tony in the eye. "Fix the plumbing."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Ptolemy saw what went wrong. He saw his sister's mistake. She had too much heart. Then when she lost her heart to Caesar's death she got desperate. Ptolemy wouldn't do that. He was in control. He was ambitious. He was also the true ruler of Egypt.

Who were the Romans to put Rameses in charge? That was Cleopatra's fault. She so desperately sought Uranium that she neglected to match the Romans military strength. There would be a stop to this. Sands was dealing with it, and soon Rameses would be out of the picture.

Ptolemy began to dream of taking the rulership of Egypt. First, he would purify it. Eliminate all those not of Egyptian blood. Then he would bring back the old ways. A king should be treated like a king, not a servant. This is what the Americans got wrong. All Roosevelt did was serve his people. Ptolemy would have none of that. As pharoah he would demand the respect that he deserved. The respect that Cleopatra had taken from him. The people should serve him, not the other way around.

Then, an alliance with the Americans. The Egyptian armies would conquer the Carthaginians and anex their lands for Egypt. Again, purifying the citizenship.
Cooperation with the other nations did not work. This was a testament to the fact that the only way to gain the respect of foreigners is to have them fear Egypt. Ptolemy would build a stronger Egypt. One that could withstand the test of time. One that wouldn't back down to Rome and America.

Yes. First would come Carthage. Then Mexico. Then Rome and America. No UN vote would stop him.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"A fleet of American ships is waiting offshore," said Agent Sands. "They're pretending to be conducting war games, but in fact they are standing by in case the Roman security forces try to interfere."

Brianna was trying to take all of this in. A coup-de-tat? And what of Rameses?

"I don't understand. How will the American ships deter the Romans?" she asked.

Sands looked at her and smiled. "The moment that Ptolemy takes the throne Roosevelt will sign an alliance with him. This means that any attack by the Romans will result in a war between America and Rome. Neither country wants that. After our jobs are over, the coup will be pretty much bloodless."

"P..Ptolemy?" Brianna was stunned. "He's to be the king?"

"He is the true ruler of Egypt...."

"He is a headstrong boy. That is all. Ptolemy does not know how to lead. He's been handfed for his whole life. He never learned what suffering truly is."

"Cleopatra was the same way. She was a delicate princess...."

Brianna cut him off. "Cleopatra was no delicate princess. She raised those boys from birth, when their mother died. She gave up her childhood to be with them. Cleopatra had her faults, but don't belittle what she did for those boys."

"Ok, you're right, Brianna," replied Sands. "In any event, though, with Ptolemy in the throne America has the votes it needs to win the General Assembly vote."

"Why would Ptolemy take the throne only to give up his power by putting Roosevelt at the head of the UN?"

"That is what our intelligence indicates."

"Your intelligence is wrong. I know Ptolemy. He has no morals. He stood by Arsinoe when she was to be queen. Then he stood by Cleopatra until Arsinoe returned. He switched sides so many times that Cleopatra didn't know who's side he was on at the end."

"Nontheless, our intelligence is good. I've even spoken with Ptolemy. He seems reasonable.

Brianna wasn't liking this at all. Kill Rameses? Overthrow the government? What had she gotten herself into....

"Brianna," continued Sands. "All you need to do is pull the trigger. I'll get you out of there. Then we'll part ways and never see each other again."

"But why do I even need to be involved? Why don't you pull the trigger?"

"We need it to be an Egyptian. If I pull the trigger it will be an international incident. Plus, you're from the old rule. That furthers the perception of Ptolemy coming to power."

Brianna knew that she had to do this. For Alexander. "How do I know that this is it? That you'll never come for me again?"

"Because we will arrange for your death when you're done."

Brianna looked stunned.

"Not your real death!" laughed Sands. "We'll replace your body. My superiors do not know this part. It was my idea. This way nobody will ever find you again."

"It looks as if I have no choice..." said Brianna.

its boring without pictures.

its boring without pictures.

Read a comic book then. I feel sorry you are unable to appreciate good writing.

@ EQ&Civ - Excellent rebuttal. My toughts and sentiments exactly. Only difference is you beat me to the post.

V

Zeeter, I've just now read through the whole thing, and I adore it. Your writing has really improved over the course of the story -- it was never bad, but it's become tighter and you've found yourself a really effective style.

I particularly liked this:


Brianna's blood went cold. "His name is Alexander."

Sands looked at her for a few moments silently.

Finally he said, "How is Caesarian, anyway?"


Not many words, but it says so much, packs a punch, and caps off that chapter perfectly.

Another thing you're good at is leaving things unsaid; an example is Antony, whom we last see convincing a submarine captain to change course, but we don't know what his plans are until the UN is revealed. I had enough trust in you as an author to be able to enjoy the mystery, rather than worry about whether you were going to leave me hanging forever or, even worse, handle the resolution badly. Such was not the case.

Having said that, it would have been nice to see Octavian's struggle with Cicero dramatised more, that seemed to happen mostly off-stage. And one nit-pick: "coup d'état"

I was riding home yesterday trying to think of a market for this kind of story; and it occurred to me that if Elite (you young people may not remember, but trust me, it was big) shipped with a novella, then why not Civ4?

Wewt, another great chapter

The Great War began with a collision of egos. No longer were wars fought over territory or resources. Revenge was only a sidebar. The quest for power was over. Now the goal was supremecy. Pride. Their place in history. Neither superpower would budge. Nor would either superpower be willing to await the next vote of the General Assembly.

The curious fact was, though, that both President Roosevelt and Caesar Octavian liked each other. Under different circumstances they could be friends. It was a war that both deemed necessary, though. For the good of their people, the two empires would fight. The winner was guaranteed the role of President of the General Assembly. They would control the world. More importantly, the other would not.

Early, the sides were drawn. The Aztecs, allied with their friends, the Americans, attacked first on the Unfinished Isle. They were slaughtered. Old war plans did not work against the Romans. Yet, decades of war plans drawn up and practiced by the Romans still worked on the Aztecs. Just like that, the Romans controlled all of Mexico.

Mobilization was one key. The Romans were able to take a city with their advanced armor, then quickly subdue the townspeople with their fast moving mechanized infantry. This freed up the armor to move on to the next city almost instantly.

The other key for the Romans was their advanced planning. Knowing of the Aztec's inability to keep up with modern progress, the Romans maintained a waiting army, ready to pounce on the almost third-world country at the first sign of aggression. Soon the Romans controlled all of the Aztec cities.

The Carthaginians were not so lucky. Tired of the terroristic bombings and their inability to maintain peace in the Carthaginian cities, Roosevelt gave the order. Forty-five minutes later the Carthaginian empire was anihilated. The Romans, due to their proximity to the Carthaginian cities in the former Iroquoisland, quickly took control of the lands there, yet this was a meaningless gesture, since the real fighting would take place in the Northern Province. Or in Italy itself.

No nation had ever successfully invaded America. Their continent was basically square that took up slightly less than one fifth of the entire world. Roads led to each and every mountain, river, plain, and field. There was noplace that the Americans could not counterattack immediately. No chokepoints. No natural defenses. Attacks on American soil with equal forces were pointless.

Now the Egyptians stood in the way of both superpowers. Their vote would decide the fate of the world.

-----------------------------------------------


The words stunned Octavian. "Wh...what?"

"Rameses is dead," repeated Lepidus. "Murdered."

"How?"

"He was killed in his palace by someone close to him."

"Didn't we have a man there? I told you to keep tabs on the Egyptians."

"I did. We put our best man on it. I haven't heard from him since the murder."

Octavian was almost speachless. He had counted on the Egyptians. They were the only allies of the Romans. He turned the television on to see the news for himself. An old, disturbing image came to view. Cleopatra's brother, Ptolemy, was speaking from the Royal Palace in Alexandria.

Ptolemy spoke of national solidarity. Of a nation coming together as one to get through this tragedy. He spoke of identifying the killers and making them face justice. He spoke of his dream of peace for all of Egypt.

When the former Prince was done a reporter came on the screen. He told a saddened nation that the Egyptian Senate had already approved Ptolemy for the interum Presidency.

"Is our army north of Alexandria on alert yet?" Octavian asked.

"Yes," answered Lepidus. "I took the liberty of alerting them just before coming in here."

"Alright. Let's stay calm," said Octavian, visibly flustered. "Let's not get emotional about this. We need to look at our options. There'll be time to mourn Rameses later."

"Ptolemy?" Lepidus asked.

"Ptolemy was always a pawn," answered Octavian. "He chose the side of power whenever pushed. He backed Cleopatra when their father died. Then he backed Arsinoe when she took power. Finally, he chose not to involve himself when Caesar gave the country back to Cleopatra. Probably because he knew that the queen would not trust him. And rightfully so."

"So who has the power now?" asked Lepidus. "If we can figure that out we can anticipate his move."

"That is what I need your man on the inside to find out. Get him. Now."

Octavian's demand was pronounced irrelevant a moment later when Anthony Soprano's face appeared on the television. The reporter identified him as a member of the Roman intelligence community and the man responsible for Rameses murder. According to the reporter, he had been shot and killed by Rameses special guard.

The two emperors of the Roman Empire stood silently for what seemed like an eternity. This spelled out their own doom.

Octavian looked at Lepidus. "He didn't....?"

"No," answered Lepidus. "We were set up."

Octavian went to the window and looked out at the courtyard. His thoughts went out to Caesar. He had already done what his former emperor would have told him. He had remained calm and looked at his options. Now there were no options. No choices to make.

After a while he spoke. "The Americans are behind this."

"How do you know that?"

"Egypt was our ally. Roosevelt would know that he cannot win a General Assembly vote while Egypt remains by our side.

"Ptolemy does not have the backing to do this himself," he continued. "He has been powerless for decades. Someone went to him. Someone who did not obscure his presence from us."

"Who?" asked Lepidus. "We know the Americans had agents there. But we watched them closely."

"How closely?" said Octavian in more of a statement than a question. "How difficult was it to find the agents?"

"There was one. I think his name was Sands or something. The man is a bull in a china shop. He couldn't conceal his presence if his life depended on it."

"And this is why we sent our men there?" asked Octavian. "To keep an eye on this agent?"

"Yes. We deemed him dangerous. In fact, I had just given the order to have him taken care of," answered Lepidus.

Octavian looked at Lepidus. "We got played," he said. "This guy, Sands was it? He wanted us to know he was there. He wanted us to send people. Now who are they blaming? Not Sands. I want him taken in. Find him."

Octavian watched as Lepidus dropped his head. After a few moments, he went over and put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Lepidus. I would have done the same thing."

"Thank you, Octavian," answered Lepidus. "What are we to do now? Surrender to the Americans?"

"Not yet," answered Octavian. "We have one card left to play."

------------------------------------------------------

Brianna placed the car in park and called to Alexander. "Come quickly, Alex! I need you!"

She opened her car door and quickly ran to the passenger side, nearly in hysterics. "Hurry!" she shouted at her front door.

As Alex came outside Brianna opened the passenger side door. Sands nearly lifeless body almost fell to the ground before Brianna caught him.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Alex.

"He's been stabbed."

Sands began to mumble. "My name is Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. I work for the CIA. I make the shapes and watch them fall."

"He's delirious," said Alex.

"No, he's trying to keep himself from dying. He's trying to keep his head. Here," she said, placing Sands arm accross Alex's shoulder. "Help me get him inside."

Together, the two of them carried the CIA agent to Brianna's bed.

"Sheldon Jeffrey Sands...I am a ..."

"Shhh," said Brianna once he was in the bed. "Quiet now. Let me fix your wound." She turned to Alex. "Get me some towels."

"Brianna...remember Zululand, Brianna? Remember Zululand?"

"Yes."

"I was happy there."

"I was too. I'm going to turn you over onto your side now."

Sands moaned in pain as Brianna moved him.

"I don't remember being happy too often.." Sands continued, once settled.

"Sheldon. You must relax. I need to help you."

"I don't need help."

"Yes, you do." Brianna stopped addressing his wounds for a moment and looked into his eyes.

"You saved my life last night. Now you're not going to die on me."

"You had a job to do," answered Sands. "You shouldn't have come back for me."

Memories of the previous evening crept back into Brianna's head. Everything had gone wrong.

------------------------------------------------------------

She was spotted by the Roman Mafia when she entered the palace. They knew her well. Brianna had eaten dinner several times at Tony Soprano's house. She tried to hide, but it was too late. Tony and her old boyfriend, Christopher, grabbed her and took her into a room.

They beat her, trying to get some information on Sands. Where was he? What was he up to? Why was she there? Brianna said nothing.

Soon, Tony took out a large knife and placed her hand on a table.

"Here's what is going to happen," he said. "I'm going to begin asking you questions. For every answer that I don't like, I'm going to chop off a finger.

"Where is Sands?"

Brianna knew that she was already dead. She wasn't about to help this man. Brianna spit in his face.

"That's a nice pinky you have there. I think I want it." Tony positioned the knife above her left pinky.

"Well, well, well," came a voice. "What have we here?"

Tony quickly lifted the knife and pointed it at the voice. Brianna looked up to see Sands' face.

"Isn't this a site? The three great minds from the world's intelligence community all together in one place. Plus you, Christopher!" he said that last part with feigned enthusiasm, waving a gun around haphazzardly for added dramatic effect.

"Agent Sands. Good to see you," said Tony.

"And you, Tony. It's been a long time. I thought you had left the industry, especially after Zululand."

"You ran away from Zululand before we could track you down. We'll finish this now."

"First the girl."

"No. She stays," answered Tony, now holding the knife at Brianna's throat. She could feel blood dripping down her back and over her shoulderblade.

Sands turned to Christopher and shot him square in the head without warning. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"You were saying, Tony?"

"You come at me and the girl dies."

"Always one for the dramatic, Tony."

"F*** you, Sands. I never liked you, you f***."

"Hey - watch your mouth around the lady."

Brianna decided to take her chance now. With all of her strength she forced her elbow into Tony's ribs.

Suprised, Tony swiped the knife at Sands just as the CIA agent shot him in the chest.

Brianna stood and watched the head of the Roman Mob fall to the ground dead.

"Go. Finish your job," said Sands.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Go get Rameses."

Brianna fled the room. She left too soon to see Sands fall to his knees, a knife sticking through his ribs.

-------------------------------------------------------

"You could have been caught. You shouldn't have come back for me. Don't they teach you Egyptians anything? The mission comes first."

"Hush, now," said Brianna, turning back to his wounds. "You're bleeding inside. I need to get a doctor."

Brianna called for Alex, who came in carrying some towels. "Alex, take the car and go to get Dr. Piat. Tell him to bring his medical bag."

Alex didn't ask any questions. He took the keys and ran out the door.

"No doctors, Brianna."

"Yes, doctors. Don't worry, I'll tell him it was a farming accident."

Sands closed his eyes and began to babble again while Brianna wiped his wound with a towel.

"I don't like this life, Brianna."

"I don't either. That's why I left it for this life."

Sands opened his eyes and looked at her. "And I brought you back to it. I'm sorry, Brianna."

"Hush," she replied. Don't even think about it."

Sands closed his eyes again. He seemed to be bordering on delirium. "I like Halloween, Brianna. It's my favorite holiday. Do you know why?"

"No, but I have a feeling that you're going to tell me...."

"Every year, for a few hours, at least, I can be someone else," said Sands. "And I'm happy. I'm not a CIA agent. I don't have to kill anyone. For a few hours I like myself again."

"You're a good man, Sheldon. Don't be hard on yourself."

"No, I'm not," answered Sands. "I'm not a good man. My life is deception, hiding and death. That is not a good man. I always wanted to be a good man. I want to like myself again."

Brianna looked at Sands. No, he wasn't delirious. He was making sense. Maybe a bit more emotional than usual for him, but then again he had an eight inch deep wound in his side. Brianna remembered Zululand. How their distrust for each other drew them closer. She remembered being happy there. Now, for the first time, Brianna was starting to trust someone other than Alexander, and she was happy about it.

"You're not going back to that life," she said. "You're staying here with me and Alex. I won't let you go back."

"I like it here," said Sands. "It's the middle of nowhere. There's nobody that I need to kill here. I think I can be happy."

"Then you're staying with me."

--------------------------------------------------------------

I must have somehow unsubscribed to this thread - I missed the last few comments until today. Thanks for the support, folks!!!

The Lucky Seven wasn't exactly a criminal bar, but it had seen its share of incidents. Last year there was a drug deal gone wrong and two men were shot and killed. The year before that a bar fight spilled out into the street and six people were arrested. One person was hospitalized and was still in a coma.

It was the perfect place for Cicero's meeting. Not quite criminal enough to warrant constant surveilance by the police, but criminal enough that people minded their own business.

Cicero sat in a corner booth of the dive bar on the south-west side of Philadelphia. Things had gone according to plan. He had eliminated one of his rivals, and another was soon to be made irrelevant.

Finally, Jack Ryan came in.

"You're late," said Cicero as Ryan approached.

"The train was late. Why you couldn't come to Washington I have no idea," Ryan answered.

"I like it here. Nobody bothers me. Are you having a cheesesteak?"

"Sure, but let's get down to business."

Cicero gestured to the bartender to bring over two sandwiches and a beer.

"I did my part, Ryan. Now you do yours."

"We'll take care of you. It will take some time, though. I've got some reporters here working on it."

"I've got some in Rome now who are prepared to headline their papers with stories of corruption and political assasination. Octavian should be on trial at the UN within a couple of months."

"I thought you said that Lepidus gave the order for the Sopranos to go to Egypt," Ryan said.

"He did. But everyone knows that Lepidus is more or less Octavian's assistant. What I need to know from you is this - is there concrete evidence that Soprano assasinated Rameses?"

"We took care of that, Cicero," answered Ryan. "The autopsy doctor was paid off to plant evidence that the bullets that killed Rameses came from Tony's gun."

"And the doctor?" asked Cicero.

"He was taken care of."

"What about Ptolemy?"

"He'll do as I say. He wouldn't dare do anything to jeapardize his position."

"And your agent?"

"Presumed dead, although we haven't found the body yet."

"No body?" Cicero was getting upset. "Then where the hell is he?"

"I don't know," Ryan replied. "I had two men outside waiting to take him out when he emerged from the palace."

"Maybe he caught onto your scheme."

"I don't think so. Likely, some of Ptolemy's men caught up with him and took care of it themselves."

Cicero was quiet for a moment as the bartender brought over their cheesesteaks. As he began to eat he remembered his conversation with Tony so long ago. He had told the mafioso that he had friends in high places. Tony had just scolded him. Revenge was sweet. Even sweeter when the revenge on your enemy also implicates another enemy.

"Let me ask you," said Ryan. "You'll probably do away with Octavian and Lepidus now. What are you going to do about the implications that you were behind Caesar's murder?"

"Bah. They won't believe that now. First of all, I was nowhere near the killing. I made sure that Brutus and Cassius took the fall there. Second, who is going to believe Octavian now?"

"And why?" continued Ryan. "You know that this can only lead to a vote for the Americans at the general assembly. Even if you took power you'd still be answering to Roosevelt. What is the point of this?"

"My aims are my own. You don't need to worry about it," Cicero replied as he finished his sandwich.

"I have to go now," he continued. "Make sure you get it into the papers. The Roman citizens will pressure their own papers to report on this if they see it in your papers."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I still have a couple of friends on the senate. The ones who leaked it about your agent in Alexandria. I'll be heading to Rome now to stay with them. When the time comes I'll stand in front of the Roman people and demand the heads of Octavian and Lepidus."

-----------------------------------------------------

"You'll be implicated on this," said Lepidus.

Octavian was well aware of this fact. Once it reached the papers that he may have been behind Rameses' killing the Roman people might stand against him.

"I realize that," he answered. "But what earthly reason would I have for killing Rameses? He was our handpicked ally. Why would I kill him?"

His answer came onto the newscreen with impeccable timing. A reporter had just begun announcing that documents had been found in Rameses office that indicated Octavian wanted to begin a joint espionage assault on America. That this espionage would include setting off nuclear devices in several large cities, and inciting riots in other smaller cities.

"This is insane," said Lepidus. "We don't work that way."

Octavian was silent. The reporter went on to say that he had it on good authority from a member of the Egyptian council that Rameses was going to expose the plan.

"There's your motive," added Lepidus.

Octavian harshly turned the television on and walked to the window. He stood there silently for a few moments.

"Octavian?"

"Yes, Lepidus?"

"We don't work that way, right?"

Octavian was silent. Best that Lepidus not be involved with this.

"But why?"

Octavian turned to Lepidus finally. "It's not enough. Egypt and us...it's not enough votes."

"What's that got to do with us acting in America?"

"Have you ever heard of an invasion in America?" asked Octavian.

"Yes. The Egyptians did one just a few years ago."

"And how did that go?"

"They landed, but couldn't go anywhere," Lepidus answered.

"Every time they took an acre of land they were pushed back. Every bombing run they took was repelled by the American fighterjets."

"But everyone knows that their invasion was just a decoy."

"That doesn't matter," said Octavian. "Decoy or not, they still had nowhere to go. Even if they had landed on three sides of the continent it would have been the same. America cannot be invaded successfully. It is impossible. Even if we took a city, we'd have to put our entire invasion force in it just to defend it."

"What does this have to do with killing Rameses?" asked Lepidus.

"I didn't kill Rameses!" shouted Octavian, upset at the implication by his friend. "They used this information to set me up and give me a motive."

"I still don't understand. Why bomb the Americans if you're not going to invade?"

Octavian turned toward the window again. After a few moments he spoke.

"To eliminate votes."

"Excuse me?"

"If Roosevelt has less people then he has less votes."

"You were going to kill innocent Americans in order to get the number of votes you needed for election?"

"It was a proposal. Nothing more," Octavian replied.

"And if Rameses had approved?"

Octavian was silent for a moment. Finally he turned to Lepidus. "You don't understand. War between America and Rome would last decades. They cannot invade us. We have too many troops. We cannot invade them because their geography prevents it. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of Romans and Americans would die as our nations tried to do what is impossible.

"This plan would eliminate most of that death. And the Roman people would be safe."

Octavian was beginning to feel ashamed of himself.

"What happened to you?" asked Lepidus. "You're the man who helped the Iroquois in Keparta. You prevented an all-out nuclear war by giving the Americans our Star-Wars technology. What happened to you?"

"Times have changed, Lepidus. We're running out of time here."

"How is that? What kind of timetable are we on?"

"It's just something that Hannibal told me long ago. I never believed in soothsayers, but he got to me when he predicted Caesar's murder."

"What did he say?" asked Lepidus.

Octavian looked Lepidus square in the eye. "Our time is running out, my friend. In 2050 a new world order will emerge, making us irrelevant."

"What new order is this? What are you talking about?"

"Don't you understand? If we don't take charge by 2050 we're through. And not just us. Roosevelt and I guess Ptolemy, too."

"But what kind of new order are you talking about?"

"Hannibal didn't go there."

"And you believed that man? He was insane."

"Maybe, but his insanity was right more times than not. He anticipated the Aztec invasion. He saw Caesar's death. He even knew how to get to civilization when his people had no earthly method of knowing that there was something else out there."

"Too bad he didn't see the bombs dropping on Carthage earlier or his people would still be alive," said Lepidus.

"Well, I guess there's only so much he could have done about it."

"So what are we going to do? I don't necessarily believe in this type of thing, but 2050 is only thirteen years away."

"And the UN Charter dictates a vote every twenty years. In essence, we have three years to gain enough votes to take the General Assembly. That is the only thing that will prevent this new world order."

-----------------------------------------------------

Poor Carthage, and I was really starting to like them. This is going ot have a great ending from the look of it!

Roosevelt sat in the situation room listening to his joint chiefs and intelligence officers explaining the situation.

"Tell me, ladies and gentlemen. Why should America care if Egypt declares war on Rome?" he asked. "In three years this will be irrelevant."

"Not necessarily," said Eisenhower. "Yes, if the vote were held today you would win. However, Rome is much stronger than Egypt. If they were to make significant gains in Egypt we may not have enough votes to take the 2/3 majority."

"I agree," said Col. Oliver North, the National Security Advisor. "Nothing good can come out of the Roman-Egyptian war. But a lot of bad could come of it."

"Colonal," began Leo McGarry. "What is to prevent us from taking the heat off of Egypt and fighting the Romans ourselves?"

"Nothing from my perspective," North told the president's Chief of Staff. "Perhaps the General can add something?"

Eisenhower thought for a moment, then spoke. "Leo, we've been over this several times. The Roman defenses are too strong. Their coast is lined with fortresses. They have more than enough troops on all of their lands to handle their defense. After the war for Uranium, Rome made sure that they couldn't be invaded on any of it's lands, not just Italy itself. This type of war would only cost us American soldier's lives."

Roosevelt was listening intently. An invasion of Roman territory was impossible. That said, maybe there is another option. "What about a true alliance with the Egyptians? What if we were to fight Rome in Egypt, rather than our own territories?"

"An interesting idea, Mr. President," said North. "Fighting in Egypt would certainly slow them down. In fact, we'd probably fight them to a stalemate."

"Excellent idea, sir," added Eisenhower. "We only need to hold them off for three years."

"Then it's decided," said McGarry. "We'll send an invasion force to Egypt to head off the Romans. Sir, is this how you want to procede?"

"Yes, Leo. Make it so," said the president.

----------------------------------------------------

Sorry about the brievity of the last post. Wrote it this morning and then got tied up with something and couldn't get part two done. I always try to put at least two sections together when I post, unless one of them is very long. Anyway, I'll get more for you on Monday.

By the way - it is entirely possible that I may have this completed Monday afternoon.

"And so it begins," Octavian said softly. He was overlooking the beaches east of Gaza, littered with dead Egyptian soldiers. Air supremecy, he thought. That will be the key to this war. Air supremecy and speed. The Eyptians, still unable to catch up with the rest of the world since Cleopatra's ouster, were still behind in their use of infantry. If the Romans were lucky, that would be the Egyptian downfall. Their men dug in. When challenged, they either fell back slowly or died fighting. Today was a slaughter. The Romans, on the other hand, had learned to change tactics according to the type of war they were fighting. Their infantry was much more mobile than the Egyptian's.

That was the key. If they had any chance of winning this before the
Americans arrived, they needed to move quickly. The Egyptians made the mistake of building up their Armor at the expense of their infantry. Only now, likely through a deal with the Americans, were the first Mechanized Infantry divisions beginning to surface.

This war would not be won with armor. It would be won through the relative safety of aerial bombardment and lightning strikes by the infantry. Take a town, secure the railways, then move the rested reserves up to the next town. Bomb that, and start over.

Octavian made sure that if it couldn't move quickly, it didn't come to Egypt. The Howitzers stayed in Italy, ready to destroy any invasion force there.

Already the walls of Gaza were breached. By nightfall the city would be
secured.

He turned to Lepidus. "Any word from America?"

"I'm finding out now. The Americans are loading their transports as we speak. Likely they will be here in two weeks. They weren't quite ready
to mobilize when we began our invasion."

"We caught them flat-footed," replied Octavian. "Roosevelt won't make
that mistake next time."

"Will there be a next time?" asked Lepidus. Octavian only looked at him.

"What of our other operation?" he asked.

"On shedule. They should be onsite shortly."

"Good. That should slow them down a bit." Octavian had one last trick up his sleeve. The Americans had certainly prepared their defenses.

Coastal fortresses were manned in every city, and vurtually every landing site in America was fortified. They had forgotten one thing, though. His mind turned to Chicago.

"And Ptolemy?" asked Lepidus.

"We haven't gotten that far yet, but I'm inclined to remove him from power, if I have to."

"You'll have to take over all of Egypt to do that."

"You're right, Lepidus. Ptolemy isn't loved by the Egyptians, but they played this well. The people will not be too happy to see us remove him from power. They want their autonomy."

"Let me ask you, Octavian," said Lepidus. "Do you think that Ptolemy can be trusted by the Americans?"

A thought that Octavian had pondered time and again. "Ptolemy chooses
the side of the winner. I don't trust him, and the Americans don't trust him. If it were to come down to a vote he would have three choices. Vote for America.."

"Likely at this point," said Lepidus.

"Yes. He could vote for us, which is very unlikely. Or he could abstain."

"Do you think he would abstain?"

"You never know with him," Octavian answered. "I guess it depends on what kind of deal he could get."

The two men were interupted by a captain. "Good evening, sir. You wanted me to inform you when phase two was to begin."

"Thank you, Captain," said Lepidus. "Octavian, shall we head to the war
room?" He pointed to a large command tent up the beach.

"By all means."

------------------------------------------

Oliver North quickly opened the door to the situation room and swiftly walked to his seat. He glanced at the table on his way and noticed a look of displeasure on Leo McGarry's face. He couldn't help it, dammit. It was a long drive from Baltimore to DC.

"Ollie," said the president. "Do you know the situation?"

"My aide briefed em on the cell phone. Are we being invaded?"

"Sort of," answered Eisenhower. "Chicago is getting the crap beat out of it."

"Chicago?" this suprised North. "What are they bombing Chicago for?" Chicago was about four hundred miles inland. It had a small reserve army and nothing else.

"I have no idea," said Ike. "Certainly Octavian isn't leading this. He's not this dumb."

"We took out the first set of bombers with our F16's," said McGarry. "They're back on the ground refueling right now. The second and third waves are hitting us pretty hard." The phone rang. McGarry was quick to answer it.

"I don't get it," said the predident. "What's in Chicago?

"Nothing, sir," said Ike. "I'm dumbfounded."

"Not just Chicago," interupted McGarry. "Kansas City is getting it now."

"Kansas City?" said North. "That's got to be at least 200 miles inland."

"An St. Louis," added McGarry. "Three hundred miles offshore."

"This is incredible," said Nimitz. "I've got my ships looking for activity between Albany and the coastline closest to these cities. There's nothing. We watch the Albany straights all the time. There is absolutely no activity."

"Let's calm down, everyone," said the President. "We don't know what's going on right now, and we're not going to find out by acting shocked about it. Find out what they're doing."

"Denver, now," said McGarry, who was still holding the phone to his ear."

"Wait," said Hoover. "This smells like a trap. They're trying to draw our troops from the coast."

Everyone turned to Hoover in shock. Some even laughed. "Draw them out for what?" said the president. "So they can get bombed in Denver too? But I agree. We're not moving our troops from the coast. We're not moving any troops to these cities. Why give them more of a target? I do think that we should beef up our aircraft in the area, though. May as well take out some stealth fighters while they're intent on bombing nothing."

Everyone's phone rang at once. Many of their faces turned pale as ghosts.

"Chicago is lost...." said North. He knew this without being told.

"What happened?" said McGarry. "How come we didn't see this?"

"Because they came in through the air. There's six infantry divisionsin the city now, with eight more on the outskirts protecting the railroad."

Nimitz shouted excitedly into the phone. "The airport!!" He then hung up the phone slowly. "They have the airport."

"Damn!" shouted Ike. "Now they can move troops in at will."

"Get that city back," shouted FDR. North could see the exasperation in his eyes. A man who didn't know what was going on, but felt that he had to be doing something.

McGarry's phone rang again. "Yes....ok.....the airport?......ok." He turned back to the group. "Kansas City is lost. They came from the sky. Fighting is going on now in St. Louis and Denver."

"Paratroopers," said Nimitz. "Paratroopers in the west, helocopters in Chicago. They likely have another invasion fleet nearby. Waiting for their troops to move south from Chicago to secure the beaches."

"Damn," said FDR. "Where were we? How did we miss this?"

"Mr President," said Ike. "We have not been successfully invaded in our lifetimes. The whole world saw how easily we pushed the Egyptians out of San Francisco. Our defenses are strong."

"We may be strong," said McGarry. "But our tactics sure do stink." He
turned to the president. "Mr President, I recommend that we disembark the troops headed for Egypt at once to help with the defenses here."

North thought about the possibilities here. That fleet was supposed to help contain the Romans in Egypt. Now Octavian could roam free throughout the country while the American armies fought here. This was masterful on Octavian's part. Instead of losing troops by overmatching them against dug-in infantry on the beaches he just bypassed them. Now the Roman infantry can move wherever it wants to because the the American infantry still needs to defend the beaches. Furthermore, they have the airport. Tanks and artillery can come in non-stop.

Roosevelt had a solemn look upon is face. He turned to Nimitz and Eisenhower. "Disembark the troops."

FDR continued. "And knock out that airport."

"Mr President" said North. "Our own people are in those cities. Do you really want to bomb them?"

FDR turned to his national security advisor. "No, Ollie. I don't want to bomb them. But what is the alternative?"

--------------------------------------------------------

Kissinger listened to the bombs falling outside of his hotel window. The Romans were closing in. Already they controlled at least sixty percent of the country. At no time in history had this country been so devastated. The Romans had invaded a couple of times in the past, but

their goal was never conquest. Indeed, the country was too far away for them to control effectively. Each time the Romans came in the past it was to replace the government. It was different this time. Egyptians weren't used to this. The people had been largely peaceful throughout time. And what could America do? They were too busy defending their homeland.

It wasn't an invasion on the same scale, the one in America. But it was just enough to prevent FDR from sending his troops to Egypt. This was their last chance. This meeting would decide the fate of the world.

Ptolemy had been rumored to be untrustworthy. He'd have to grow up in a hurry, now. A knock came at the door. An aide to the Pharoah entered and introduced Ptolemy.

"Henry," he bagan. "I hope you bring good news. Is America willing to help?"

Kissinger looked at the Ptolemy for what seemed like an eternity. Had this man any idea of events outside of his country?

"No, Ptolemy. We cannot help you. In fact, I've come to ask for your help."

"Help you? Henry, I am in no position to help you."

"Yes you are. You must vote for Roosevelt at the election next month."

"Why would I vote for Roosevelt? What help has he provided me?"

Kissinger looked at him sternly. "He placed you in power. He bankrolled your coup'."

"That was three years ago, Henry. I'm in a desperate position now."

"If you don't make this vote, you'll be in this desperate position for another ten years, Ptolemy. Vote next month and it will all be over."

Kissinger knew of Ptolemy's aspirations. Previously he had no intention of voting for anyone at the election. Times change with events, though. In fact, Kissinger thought, the Roman invasion probably helped America. It placed the Egyptians in a desperate situation.

"I....." Ptolemy looked away. "I don't know what to do," he said.

Kissinger looked at the poor man. He truly had no idea how to rule. Sadly, the Secretary of State placed his hand on the Pharoah's shoulder. "Yes you do, Ptolemy. You know what to do. What you have to do."

Ptolemy lifted his head. Kissinger could see the man's eyes watering. "I should vote for Roosevelt?"

"Yes. When we win the Secretary's seat you will remain on the throne here, answering only to Roosevelt."

Ptolemy sat on the foot of the bed and leaned his head on his hands. After what seemed an eternity, he looked up at Kissinger again.

"Henry, I will vote for the president."

-----------------------------------------------

The fighting outside of Thebes had begun a month ago. The former Egyptian capital once again held Egypt's throne. The loss of Alexandria had cripled the country. It effectively cut the remaining Egyptian cities in two. The cities to the south no longer had access to the materials necessary for anything but the most rudimentary of troops. Ptolemy had now banked everything on the north.

"Captain," said Octavian, finally leading troops in battle again. "Aerial surveillance shows reinforcements coming from the east. Take four divisions and meet them head on. I'll see that you have air cover."

"Yes sir," replied the captain.

Egypt's days were numbered, thought Octavian. The reason? What he saw
in a field of dead Egyptian soldiers. Muskets. They were fighting with muskets now.

Octavian's thoughts were interupted by an old, familiar sound. Looking up, he heard someone yell "Duck!"

Hitting the ground, Octavian looked up to see a single enging fighter in the sky. Behind it, and moving quickly, was a Roman jet fighter. It made quick work of the Egyptian plane, which fell to the ground like a brick.

"The defenses are strong in the town, sir," a captain reported. "We
have reports of fighting thrughout the town. The Egyptians are defending themselves valiantly, but they're no match for our fighting vehicles. And I haven't seen a tank in weeks."

"Then they don't have any, Captain," Octavian replied. "This is their last important city. If they had tanks they'd be here."

"Yes sir. I'm inclined to agree," said the captain.

"How are we doing elsewhere? Have we reached Memphis yet?" Octavian
missed having Lepidus around. Lepidus never had to be prompted for
important information.

"Not yet, sir."

"Get there," said Octavian. He was running out of time. The vote was to be held tomorrow.

Octavian turned to a colonel. "How is our progress?"

"We've almost reached the center of town, sir."

Ominous thoughts filled Octavian's mind. Should he keep fighting? Thebes wasn't quite enough, and he had no chance at reaching Memphis in time. Never give up, he thought. Always work the angles. Caesar had told him that. Keep moving, figuratively. Look at the whole picture. Most of all, never give up. He could hear his former emperor's words fill his head. A smile crept accross Octavian's lips as he remembered Caesar's voice.

"Give them everything you've got, then, Colonel," he said. "If we're going down, we may as well go down fighting. Unleash hell!"

------------------------------------------------

This was the day, thought Cicero. Finally, he would have his revenge on Octavian and Lepidus. Finally, he would take control of Rome. Yes, it would be under the direction of FDR, but at least Octavian would be out of the picture. That was all that he wanted, really. To watch Octavian pack his belongings from the Palace. Cicero even thought of retiring after he saw that. All that he wanted was to see the look on the emperor's face.

He sat in the visitor's section of the UN. This was the first time that Cicero had made a public appearance since he was forced out of office so long ago. He looked to the podium. Behind it, representatives from Egypt, Rome, and America sat. The Roman representative, Machiavelli, looked somewhat nervious. The American and Egyptian representatives were conversing and laughing.

Finally, Machiavelli walked to the podium. Just a few more minutes, thought Cicero. Looking out into the general audience, he could see Lepidus, still working the phones. It's over, he thought. Lepidus could work the phones all he wanted. They didn't get enough votes from Egypt.

"Good afternoon, members of the general assembly," Machiavelli began.

"We are here on this glorious day to elect our secretary." No doubt, thought Cicero, that this speach was written long before the Romans lost Egypt's vote. "Three times we have reached this point in the past, however no majority vote has ever been reached. Today, for the sake of the world, we in Rome hope that a leader is selected."

Cicero could almost hear Machiavelli grinding his teeth as he spoke. Looking further into the audience, he saw Roosevelt speaking with Henri Kissinger. They sat calmly and confidently and in stark contrast to Lepidus, who still was working the phones. Cicero almost felt sorry for the man.

Machiavelli was just finishing up his speach. Yes, yes, thought Cicero. Get on with it. Finally, the Roman representative finishes speaking and cast his vote for Octavian as secretary general.

Next up was Madeline Albright. The former Secretary of State had prepared a long speach. A slight frown appeared on Cicero's face. Couldn't she have abridged this? Good lord, she was going to read a book to them.

Nothing to do now but look through the audience some more. Ptolemy sat just below him. He was a nervious young man. Too young to be a Pharoah. Yet he had served his purpose. Ptolemy sat next to an advisor who was on the phone, no doubt keeping him abreast of the fighting in Egypt.

Something Albright said perked Cicero's ears. "..And so, in finding that Emperor Octavian is a war criminal, and that his fellow emperor, Lepidus had full knowledge of these events, it is the recommendation of America that both Octavian and Lepidus be removed from power and transported to Washington where they will be tried for war crimes.

Furthermore, it is the recommendation of America that former Senator Cicero be placed as the Emperor of Rome."

Cicero was called down to the floor. This was unheard of,he thought.

The Americans must be pretty confident in their vote for this to happen. As he walked to the floor to be