Hail Caesar
- Thread starter zeeterus
- Start date
Tomorrow....I promise! I'm writing it now, but have to leave soon - before it's done. Again - sorry about the delay. Not to use it as an excuse, but I'm going through a divorce right now and the furthest thing from my mind has been Hail Caesar. Thanks for your patience, everyone.
No pressure, Volum. I started this thing a while back and feel somewhat obligated to finish it. Partly for you guys who have been so encouraging, and partly for myself. I just have to be in the right frame of mind to post, and lately I haven't been.
"Bridge, Sonar," shouted Petty Officer Jones. "I've got a contact bearing 320!"
Captain Mancuso checked his watch. 0400 hours. In Egypt it was already 0700. That meant that the deadline had passed. His orders were to seek and destroy Egyptian submarines, even at the expense of Egyptian surface ships.
Mancuso checked his charts. They were one hundred miles off of the American coast, nearest to Miami.
"Jonesy, ID that contact as fast as you can," said Master Chief Watson.
"Aye, Master Chief," replied Jones. "She's moving up, though. I'm having trouble with the signature."
"Keep working on it," said Mancuso. "We don't want to sink one of our own."
These were desperate moments, thought the captain. Here they were, facing a vastly inferior foe, yet one miscue could spell complete anihilation of an entire city. It shouldn't be like this, he thought. Weapons like this leveled the playing field. All of the time and training that the navy had spent on him and his crew were being put to the test.
"Whoever she is, the missile bay doors are opening," shouted Jones.
"Who is she, Jonesy!" shouted Mancuso.
"I still don't have a signature, Captain."
We can't wait any longer, thought the Captain. "What's her depth?"
"20 fathoms, sir," replied Jones.
One hundred, twenty feet, thought Mancuso. At One Hundred they'll be able to fire. "Do we have a firing solution yet?"
"Yes sir," answered Lt Cmdr Thompson. Ready to fire when you are."
"Open the torpedo tube doors," ordered the captain.
"She's at one hundred and ten feet," said Jones. "Signature points to Egyptian. Ptolomy class nuclear missile submarine."
"She's a boomer," said the chief. Not that everyone hadn't already figured that out.
"Release torpedos one and two," ordered the captain.
"Torpedos one and two away," replied Thompson. Mancuso heard the tell tale sound of the torpedos leaving the tubes. "Twenty seconds to impact," continued Thompson.
"She's at one-hundred feet," said Jones. "Launching depth."
"Fifteen seconds to impact," reported Thompson.
We're not going to make it, thought the captain. "Detonate torpedo number two."
"What sir?" replied Thompson.
Mancuso didn't have time to explain. "Do it!" he shouted.
Thompson pressed a button on the console and the whole submarine shuttered as the torpedo exploded. The lights flickered, then stayed on for good. That was a little bit close for comfort, thought the captain. But hopefully it disrupted the Egyptian's launching routines.
"Five seconds to impact," said Thompson.
"I hear a rumble," shouted Jones. Just then the Dallas was rocked by the explosion of the Egyptian submarine. Cheers arose throughout the bridge. Lt Cmdr Thompson walked over to the captain to shake his hand.
"Well done, sir," he said. The captain was not yet ready to celebrate, nor was Petty officer Jones, who was listening intently to his headset.
Mancuso held up his hands for quiet. A hush stormed over the crew as they turned to look at Jones. It seemed like hours, but was only a few moments before the sonarman spoke.
"Missile away."
----------------------------------------------
Huascar stood in the center of town, awaiting the Aztec general's arrival. Negotiations were to take place to prevent a civil war. Aleady, some in the southern cities had begun to hold demonstrations against Montezuma. Many were slaughtered, as the Aztec leader's security police seemed to always know where to be.
Atahualpa had done well. It made no sense to fight back against this security detail. There were too many. The army could not be trusted. While Santa Ana held the keys to many of the generals, many others could not be counted on to stand against El Presidente.
This general was different. Atahualpa had integrated the military to find someone of high rank who was sympathetic to their cause.
Huascar loathed violence. The demonstrations were for the most part non-violent. However, Huascar was quite certain that Montezuma would put down anyone who spoke against him; whether violent or not.
This had to be done tactfully, he thought. El Presidente must be shown that his people stand against him. That violence against insurgents will only make them stand taller. Eventually they will fight. Then it will be a bloodbath.
A car moved slowly towards him. It stopped a few feet away, where Atahualpa and General Gomez exited. A truck followed and stopped nearby.
Gomez approached Huascar and held out his hand. "General, I come here to plead with Montezuma to stop the violence against his own people."
"Huascar, El Presidente is not the cause of this violence," answered Gomez. "These treasonist acts must stop."
Atahualpa stood next to the vehicle silently. Huascar was not encouraged by this. No doubt Atahualpa had already discussed the situation with the general. The expression on his brother's face left Huascar with little doubt that the general would turn down any offers he made."
"General," he said. "All I ask is that the cities in the south have public elections. Allow them to vote their own people into office to be represented properly."
"The peasants of the south cannot be trusted to govern themselves. A member of Montezuma's staff must govern these cities in order to maintain el presidente's doctrine."
"Don't you see, though, that the doctrine is not working?" replied Huascar. "The people in the south only want representation. Not a coup-de-tat."
"No, Huascar," said Gomez. "The people in the south want you as the ruler of all of Mexico. It will not be."
Huascar saw the tailgait of the truck open and a group of special police exited, weapons drawn. Looking at his brother's expression, Huascar felt his heart sink. Once again, Atahualpa had arranged his imprisonment.
Gomez turned to his men. "Take this traitor into custody."
Head down, Huascar slowly began to walk toward the police when he heard a shot ring out.
Looking up, Huascar saw one of the officers fall. More shots rang out and the man who was about to be imprisoned fell to the ground to avoid getting shot. Several more policemen fell as the others ran for cover. Looking up, they could not see where the shots were coming from. Huascar did, though. Looking at the ground he saw a manhole cover that was ajar. A gunman emerged slowly from the hole, shooting as he did so.
Gomez was the first to spot him. Reaching for his gun he ran toward the gunman, who had his back to the general. Huascar was the only person between the two men. Just as Gomez was raising his weapon to fire, he reached for his leg, tripping the general. The gunman heard this and fired at the fallen man, killing him.
Atahualpa had crawled under the car that he had arrived in. Several of the police officers, having spotted the gunman, began shouting and aiming their weapons just as a grenade exploded around them. A man stood atop a building behind them and began to pick off the rest of the policemen.
Only one man could pull this off, thought Huascar. El Mariachi. He looked at the gunman, who had long, black hair and a stern expression. He held a pistol in each hand, and wore a bandolier over his shoulder. A hat covered his head. The man looked like someone from one of those American westerns. He knew that this was him. The legend.
The smoke cleared and El Mariachi offered his hand to Huascar, helping him up, The other gunman had jumped from the building and was sorting through the dead policemen.
"Who is he?" asked Huascar.
"My brother, Lorenzo," replied El Mariachi.
"Can he be trusted?" Huascar knew that this was a silly question.
"I trust him with my life."
"That's all well and good," replied Huascar. "But can I trust him with mine?"
"If you couldn't, then you'd be dead already."
Huascar turned his attention to his brother, who was now attempting to escape in the car. He watched El Mariachi's brother pull something from the pocket of one of the policemen. Lorenzo then walked over to the car and held the keys up to a frustrated and scared looking Atahualpa.
When Atahualpa reached for the keys, Lorenzo playfully pulled them away. This happened several times, to the delight of El Mariachi's brother.
Huascar walked over to the car and placed his hand on Lorenzo's shoulder, who knew that this was his signal to stop playing and move along.
"Atahualpa, this is the second time you have betrayed me."
"I did what was right," replied his brother.
"Right for yourself, but not for Mexico."
"What is Mexico? It is not a state, but a slaughterhouse. This country was relatively peaceful before you came back. It was strict, but safe. Now you come along and men die. For a lost cause, no less. Nobody whom you've gotten to back you can be trusted."
"Ah, that is where you are wrong, my brother. I don't need the trust of the generals. Of the politicians. I have the trust of the people. They do not protest for me. They protest against Montezuma. Something that the generals and politicians are afraid to do. They will fight for a free Mexico."
"To be run by you," said Atahualpa, disgustedly.
"Maybe. However I am prepared to die for this cause. Something that you apparently are not prepared to do. Atahualpa, for your whole life you have worked only to save yourself. Not once did you give yourself wholely to a cause other than your own. You've never felt the peace of fighting for something that you know is right. It is a glorious feeling. I feel released from all bonds. If I die, I know that I have died for what I believe in. Now you will die for what I believe in."
Huascar turned to El Mariachi and nodded. The gunman placed a bullet into Atahualpa's brain, killing him instantly.
Captain Mancuso checked his watch. 0400 hours. In Egypt it was already 0700. That meant that the deadline had passed. His orders were to seek and destroy Egyptian submarines, even at the expense of Egyptian surface ships.
Mancuso checked his charts. They were one hundred miles off of the American coast, nearest to Miami.
"Jonesy, ID that contact as fast as you can," said Master Chief Watson.
"Aye, Master Chief," replied Jones. "She's moving up, though. I'm having trouble with the signature."
"Keep working on it," said Mancuso. "We don't want to sink one of our own."
These were desperate moments, thought the captain. Here they were, facing a vastly inferior foe, yet one miscue could spell complete anihilation of an entire city. It shouldn't be like this, he thought. Weapons like this leveled the playing field. All of the time and training that the navy had spent on him and his crew were being put to the test.
"Whoever she is, the missile bay doors are opening," shouted Jones.
"Who is she, Jonesy!" shouted Mancuso.
"I still don't have a signature, Captain."
We can't wait any longer, thought the Captain. "What's her depth?"
"20 fathoms, sir," replied Jones.
One hundred, twenty feet, thought Mancuso. At One Hundred they'll be able to fire. "Do we have a firing solution yet?"
"Yes sir," answered Lt Cmdr Thompson. Ready to fire when you are."
"Open the torpedo tube doors," ordered the captain.
"She's at one hundred and ten feet," said Jones. "Signature points to Egyptian. Ptolomy class nuclear missile submarine."
"She's a boomer," said the chief. Not that everyone hadn't already figured that out.
"Release torpedos one and two," ordered the captain.
"Torpedos one and two away," replied Thompson. Mancuso heard the tell tale sound of the torpedos leaving the tubes. "Twenty seconds to impact," continued Thompson.
"She's at one-hundred feet," said Jones. "Launching depth."
"Fifteen seconds to impact," reported Thompson.
We're not going to make it, thought the captain. "Detonate torpedo number two."
"What sir?" replied Thompson.
Mancuso didn't have time to explain. "Do it!" he shouted.
Thompson pressed a button on the console and the whole submarine shuttered as the torpedo exploded. The lights flickered, then stayed on for good. That was a little bit close for comfort, thought the captain. But hopefully it disrupted the Egyptian's launching routines.
"Five seconds to impact," said Thompson.
"I hear a rumble," shouted Jones. Just then the Dallas was rocked by the explosion of the Egyptian submarine. Cheers arose throughout the bridge. Lt Cmdr Thompson walked over to the captain to shake his hand.
"Well done, sir," he said. The captain was not yet ready to celebrate, nor was Petty officer Jones, who was listening intently to his headset.
Mancuso held up his hands for quiet. A hush stormed over the crew as they turned to look at Jones. It seemed like hours, but was only a few moments before the sonarman spoke.
"Missile away."
----------------------------------------------
Huascar stood in the center of town, awaiting the Aztec general's arrival. Negotiations were to take place to prevent a civil war. Aleady, some in the southern cities had begun to hold demonstrations against Montezuma. Many were slaughtered, as the Aztec leader's security police seemed to always know where to be.
Atahualpa had done well. It made no sense to fight back against this security detail. There were too many. The army could not be trusted. While Santa Ana held the keys to many of the generals, many others could not be counted on to stand against El Presidente.
This general was different. Atahualpa had integrated the military to find someone of high rank who was sympathetic to their cause.
Huascar loathed violence. The demonstrations were for the most part non-violent. However, Huascar was quite certain that Montezuma would put down anyone who spoke against him; whether violent or not.
This had to be done tactfully, he thought. El Presidente must be shown that his people stand against him. That violence against insurgents will only make them stand taller. Eventually they will fight. Then it will be a bloodbath.
A car moved slowly towards him. It stopped a few feet away, where Atahualpa and General Gomez exited. A truck followed and stopped nearby.
Gomez approached Huascar and held out his hand. "General, I come here to plead with Montezuma to stop the violence against his own people."
"Huascar, El Presidente is not the cause of this violence," answered Gomez. "These treasonist acts must stop."
Atahualpa stood next to the vehicle silently. Huascar was not encouraged by this. No doubt Atahualpa had already discussed the situation with the general. The expression on his brother's face left Huascar with little doubt that the general would turn down any offers he made."
"General," he said. "All I ask is that the cities in the south have public elections. Allow them to vote their own people into office to be represented properly."
"The peasants of the south cannot be trusted to govern themselves. A member of Montezuma's staff must govern these cities in order to maintain el presidente's doctrine."
"Don't you see, though, that the doctrine is not working?" replied Huascar. "The people in the south only want representation. Not a coup-de-tat."
"No, Huascar," said Gomez. "The people in the south want you as the ruler of all of Mexico. It will not be."
Huascar saw the tailgait of the truck open and a group of special police exited, weapons drawn. Looking at his brother's expression, Huascar felt his heart sink. Once again, Atahualpa had arranged his imprisonment.
Gomez turned to his men. "Take this traitor into custody."
Head down, Huascar slowly began to walk toward the police when he heard a shot ring out.
Looking up, Huascar saw one of the officers fall. More shots rang out and the man who was about to be imprisoned fell to the ground to avoid getting shot. Several more policemen fell as the others ran for cover. Looking up, they could not see where the shots were coming from. Huascar did, though. Looking at the ground he saw a manhole cover that was ajar. A gunman emerged slowly from the hole, shooting as he did so.
Gomez was the first to spot him. Reaching for his gun he ran toward the gunman, who had his back to the general. Huascar was the only person between the two men. Just as Gomez was raising his weapon to fire, he reached for his leg, tripping the general. The gunman heard this and fired at the fallen man, killing him.
Atahualpa had crawled under the car that he had arrived in. Several of the police officers, having spotted the gunman, began shouting and aiming their weapons just as a grenade exploded around them. A man stood atop a building behind them and began to pick off the rest of the policemen.
Only one man could pull this off, thought Huascar. El Mariachi. He looked at the gunman, who had long, black hair and a stern expression. He held a pistol in each hand, and wore a bandolier over his shoulder. A hat covered his head. The man looked like someone from one of those American westerns. He knew that this was him. The legend.
The smoke cleared and El Mariachi offered his hand to Huascar, helping him up, The other gunman had jumped from the building and was sorting through the dead policemen.
"Who is he?" asked Huascar.
"My brother, Lorenzo," replied El Mariachi.
"Can he be trusted?" Huascar knew that this was a silly question.
"I trust him with my life."
"That's all well and good," replied Huascar. "But can I trust him with mine?"
"If you couldn't, then you'd be dead already."
Huascar turned his attention to his brother, who was now attempting to escape in the car. He watched El Mariachi's brother pull something from the pocket of one of the policemen. Lorenzo then walked over to the car and held the keys up to a frustrated and scared looking Atahualpa.
When Atahualpa reached for the keys, Lorenzo playfully pulled them away. This happened several times, to the delight of El Mariachi's brother.
Huascar walked over to the car and placed his hand on Lorenzo's shoulder, who knew that this was his signal to stop playing and move along.
"Atahualpa, this is the second time you have betrayed me."
"I did what was right," replied his brother.
"Right for yourself, but not for Mexico."
"What is Mexico? It is not a state, but a slaughterhouse. This country was relatively peaceful before you came back. It was strict, but safe. Now you come along and men die. For a lost cause, no less. Nobody whom you've gotten to back you can be trusted."
"Ah, that is where you are wrong, my brother. I don't need the trust of the generals. Of the politicians. I have the trust of the people. They do not protest for me. They protest against Montezuma. Something that the generals and politicians are afraid to do. They will fight for a free Mexico."
"To be run by you," said Atahualpa, disgustedly.
"Maybe. However I am prepared to die for this cause. Something that you apparently are not prepared to do. Atahualpa, for your whole life you have worked only to save yourself. Not once did you give yourself wholely to a cause other than your own. You've never felt the peace of fighting for something that you know is right. It is a glorious feeling. I feel released from all bonds. If I die, I know that I have died for what I believe in. Now you will die for what I believe in."
Huascar turned to El Mariachi and nodded. The gunman placed a bullet into Atahualpa's brain, killing him instantly.
"Well, Octavian, you've been quiet for quite some time," said Cleopatra. "Come to take what is mine, have you?"
"Still defiant," replied Octavian. "Queen, you were a much better ruler when you listened. Once you began to think for yourself you lost your charm."
Octavian watched the look on Cleopatra's face. She sat in defiance, but her fear showed through. The queen had played her last card and lost. Now Octavian was cashing in his chips.
"What is to become of Egypt?" asked the Queen.
"The only member of your staff who shows any brains and guts is Rameses. He will lead your people until elections can be held."
"You are a hypocrite, Octavian. You speak as if elections will save everything, yet you yourself were never elected. You took your country by force, alienating Antony and forcing Lepidus into a puppet status."
Octavian glared into Cleopatra's eyes. "Ask one of my citizens whom they would have in charge. That is the difference between you and me, Cleopatra. I lead for Rome and Romans. You lead for your family. I sensed your father's heart in you long ago. Whatever happened to that? You turned cold against your people just when they trusted you the most. Those who would stand by you could only watch in horror as you tried to gain a status in the world. A status which you had not yet achieved."
"My status will be remembered for a long time, Octavian. We are not so different. Yet you turned Rome's back on me when I needed you the most. Our alliance was strength against the Americans."
"The Americans want peace. I want peace. You did not have to start this war. Yet for a lack of uranium you risked the population of the entire world."
"You always had a soft spot for life, Octavian. I suppose that is why you built your missile defense system instead of fighting back. I do not deny that it was the right move on your part. However, you betrayed me even further by giving the system to the Americans."
"There was no betrayal, Cleopatra. I only did what I could to save lives. I could have fired back with every missile that I had, and the Americans could have done likewise. Do your people even know that you used them like this? That you risked their own lives on the assumption that I would not fire back in retaliation? Yet I see no need for conquest. My soldiers will be here only long enough to see the transition of power."
"And what of me?" asked the queen.
Octavian looked at Cleopatra. She was to kill millions only mere hours ago. The Americans and Romans would have died for her cause. And what was that cause? Mars only knew. Yet the world would no doubt be a better place without her.
"Tomorrow you will be paraded through the streets of Alexandria. They will see the queen who risked their lives. Then you will be transported to Rome where you will face trial for war crimes.
"Still defiant," replied Octavian. "Queen, you were a much better ruler when you listened. Once you began to think for yourself you lost your charm."
Octavian watched the look on Cleopatra's face. She sat in defiance, but her fear showed through. The queen had played her last card and lost. Now Octavian was cashing in his chips.
"What is to become of Egypt?" asked the Queen.
"The only member of your staff who shows any brains and guts is Rameses. He will lead your people until elections can be held."
"You are a hypocrite, Octavian. You speak as if elections will save everything, yet you yourself were never elected. You took your country by force, alienating Antony and forcing Lepidus into a puppet status."
Octavian glared into Cleopatra's eyes. "Ask one of my citizens whom they would have in charge. That is the difference between you and me, Cleopatra. I lead for Rome and Romans. You lead for your family. I sensed your father's heart in you long ago. Whatever happened to that? You turned cold against your people just when they trusted you the most. Those who would stand by you could only watch in horror as you tried to gain a status in the world. A status which you had not yet achieved."
"My status will be remembered for a long time, Octavian. We are not so different. Yet you turned Rome's back on me when I needed you the most. Our alliance was strength against the Americans."
"The Americans want peace. I want peace. You did not have to start this war. Yet for a lack of uranium you risked the population of the entire world."
"You always had a soft spot for life, Octavian. I suppose that is why you built your missile defense system instead of fighting back. I do not deny that it was the right move on your part. However, you betrayed me even further by giving the system to the Americans."
"There was no betrayal, Cleopatra. I only did what I could to save lives. I could have fired back with every missile that I had, and the Americans could have done likewise. Do your people even know that you used them like this? That you risked their own lives on the assumption that I would not fire back in retaliation? Yet I see no need for conquest. My soldiers will be here only long enough to see the transition of power."
"And what of me?" asked the queen.
Octavian looked at Cleopatra. She was to kill millions only mere hours ago. The Americans and Romans would have died for her cause. And what was that cause? Mars only knew. Yet the world would no doubt be a better place without her.
"Tomorrow you will be paraded through the streets of Alexandria. They will see the queen who risked their lives. Then you will be transported to Rome where you will face trial for war crimes.
Globetrotter
...wherever i may roam...
Yup
I just added the last posts into the word document too.
Edit: i hope i did not miss any post...
I just added the last posts into the word document too.
Edit: i hope i did not miss any post...
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.
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.
"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....."
"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 assassination by Montezuma's security detail. Fires had broken out late that night in Tenochtitlan. 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 jeopardy. 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 across 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 raze 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 politicians. 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.
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 jeopardy. 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 across 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 raze 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 politicians. 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.
Globetrotter
...wherever i may roam...
It took you a while to do that...
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