With great pride, Captain Eric Bischoff surveyed his latest command. Iowa was the first in a new class of nuclear submarine, which would be named after her, and she was soon to become the pride of the US Navy. At 625 feet long and 30 feet wide, she was the biggest submarine the world had ever seen. With her capacity to carry an astonishing 30 nuclear missiles, she also had the potential to be the most deadly weapon ever constructed. Currently, she was sitting in a dry dock, with men and women of her construction crew swarming over her like ants. Last minute preparations were being made for the launching and naming ceremony, which was less than twenty four hours away.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" Roman Reigns asked. Standing beside his captain at the edge of the dry dock, Reigns looked over the boat with a similar amount of pride. Being given the position of Executive Officer, or XO, on the Iowa was an incredible honour for him, and real career milestone. He was expecting his promotion to captain to be approved in the near future, but serving as second in command during Iowa's sea trials and maiden voyage was more than okay with him. It would be a once in a lifetime experience just to be able to sail with, and learn from Captain Bischoff, who was one of the Navy's most experienced and respected commanders.

"She is. Can you believe that President McMahon and the First Lady are going to be the ones to launch her? He really wants the Russians to pay attention."

"As well they should," Reigns opined. With recent conflicts in the Ukraine and in Syria, tensions between the US and Russia hadn't been so high since the Cold War. Only two weeks earlier, the Russians had shot down an F-16 of the US Air Force, supposedly for flying into Russian airspace, although that allegation had been denied by Washington. "It's about time we gave them a moment of pause."

Bischoff nodded his agreement. He had always prided himself on the fact that he had a close relationship with his officers, and when not on duty he allowed them to address him on first name terms. "Between you and me, Roman? What worries me is that the president seems like a bit of a trigger happy son of a bitch. I'd make a bet that he ordered the air force to fly into Russian airspace to gauge their reaction, and he got one. I'm no diplomat, but launching the Iowa himself seems akin to getting his dick out for a pissing contest with President Rusev. I don't think Rusev takes kindly to that kind of thing either."

"I doubt he'll be particularly delighted about it, no," Reigns said, taking a deep breath as he realised the logic in what his Captain had said. The prospect of sailing on the greatest submarine ever constructed was one thing; the prospect of being ordered to launch enough nuclear missiles at Russia to wipe the entire country off the map was quite another, especially as retaliatory strikes would almost certainly do the same to the US.

"I'd better start thinking about what I'm going to say to him tomorrow. Personally, I'll just be glad to glad to get underway with these trials."

Reigns decided that he couldn't have put it better himself, and grinned. "Aye, sir."

Admiral Jerry Lawler hadn't expected President McMahon to request that he and the First Lady go on-board the Iowa. It was a relief at least that he hadn't wanted to go below decks for a full tour, as the truth was that the boat was still not fully complete. Six months of sea trials would follow the launching ceremony, with finishing touches being applied by the construction crew inbetween each short voyage. The trials were intended to iron out any problems before the Iowa could finally be handed over to the Navy and given her full USS title, which would then allow her to enter service. Outwardly at least, she already appeared to be immaculate.

"One of our nation's finest achievements, gentlemen," President Vince McMahon said, looking up at the boat's huge sail which towered above them. He then turned and smiled at Lawler and Bischoff. "And she's a mean looking bitch too; just the way she should be."

"She is, Mr President," Lawler diplomatically agreed, although he actually found the comment distasteful. "And we couldn't have a better captain and crew to entrust her to for her trials and maiden voyage."

"I have no doubt," McMahon said. "Captain Bischoff, you have been assigned a very important task. The Iowa is to be the biggest deterrent we have to present to the enemies of our great nation and her allies. And if it comes to it, she will be our front line of offense too."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, sir," Bischoff said.

"Right," McMahon nodded, his tone a little dismissive. He clapped his hands together loudly and gestured towards the podium at the side of the dry dock, in front of which the Iowa's crew were now assembled. Family members, friends, and representatives of the world's media were gathered in their designated areas further back. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"Yes, Mr President," Lawler said, gesturing for his Commander in Chief to lead the way, followed by the First Lady, who had so far done nothing more than follow her husband around and smile. Bischoff had the impression that was exactly how McMahon liked it

In Moscow, things were different. President Alexander Rusev's wife was also one of his inner circle of advisers. It made for a complicated relationship at times to say the least, but they had gotten used to making it work. They were watching Iowa's launching ceremony from the comfort of one of the huge living rooms in their mansion on the outskirts of the Russian capital.

"He's taking a lot of pride in that thing," Lana said, over the top of the rhetoric that McMahon was spouting from his podium.

"That fucking sub is a first-strike weapon, and he's not even trying to hide the fact," Rusev said. His voice was quiet, but that did nothing to hide his anger. "Their current fleet no longer carries nuclear missiles, but this 'Iowa' will do, and he wants us to know it too. Six months from now, he could park that thing and it's hundreds of nuclear warheads off our coast and there's not much we could do about it, in terms of defending ourselves."

"Hundreds of warheads?" Lana's eyes had widened.

"Eight warheads per missile," Rusev said. "Could even be twelve if he violates the treaty the US signed years ago. Either way, if McMahon pushes the button, that thing wipes the Motherland off the map."

"But our land based missiles would launch and do the same to them."

"That's always been the deterrent in the past. Mutually assured destruction, they call it. Maybe he's confident they can take out our missiles before they reach their targets? I don't intend to find out. We have roughly six months before they can put the Iowa into active service. I'm going to make sure we use that time as best we can. I'm going to order that every fast attack submarine we have in reserve be put back into active service as soon as possible, regardless of cost."

"That will be noticed in Washington," Lana cautioned.

"I want it to be. Tomorrow, I'm going to telephone McMahon directly and tell him that if he orders the Iowa to come anywhere near Russian waters, I'll sink her without warning."

Lana gulped and felt her blood run cold as her husband stood and walked over to the phone in the corner of the room to begin issuing orders. The coverage of Iowa's launching ceremony continued on the TV. As she watched President McMahon speak, Lana wondered if he really could be the man to start World War Three.

"We will make her the pride of the Navy, and of the United States!" Captain Bischoff proclaimed, finishing his speech with a flourish and ending that part of the ceremony.

With great pomp and circumstance, the assembled US Navy Band began to play The Star-Spangled Banner. President McMahon led by example, enthusiastically singing along, joined by the entire crew of Iowa.

When the anthem reached its conclusion, Iowa's crew prepared to cheer the final act of the launching ceremony; the champagne bottle being broken against the boat's bow to officially christen her. It was an honour which had been given to Linda McMahon on this occasion. Smiling broadly, she took hold of the bottle when her husband offered it to her, and gave it a hearty swing towards the boat.

The bottle contacted the hull with a hefty clink, but failed to break. Rather than a cheer, there was a collective drawing of breath from the crew. Captain Bischoff closed his eyes for a second.

"Oh, God," Reigns whispered to himself.

The crew members who could manage to look away from the undamaged champagne bottle, which was now swinging idly at the mid point between the boat and the podium, glanced nervously at each other.

A solitary, fearful voice said what everyone was thinking. "We're cursed."