"Prime Minister, Prime Minister! A word for paper, please!"
"Mr. Prime Minister, how do you feel about your victory?!"
"Mr. Prime Minister, do you have any statements about this outstanding victory over the conservative party?!"
"Mr. Mosley, how do you intend to change Britain now that you are the Prime Minister?!"
However, the newly elected Sir Oswald Mosley did not answer these questions, as he could not hear him. The outcry was so great that he could barely hear the directions from the black shirt ahead of him, and he certainly didn't hear the calls from the officer right next to him. His inner circle of fellow members of the British Union of Fascists surrounded him in a defensive circle, followed by police and army men.
Communists, Zionists, naysayers and people who said he could never do it. The Conservatives and Liberals, members from every party who believed, after the violent acts of the BUF and the actions of Adolf Hitler in Germany, he could not win.
How fulfilling to see them just watch, dumbfounded and shocked at the turn of events.
A convoy of cars and police cruisers sat up ahead, awaiting him and his group's arrival. Since the roar had more or less died down, the officer at Mosley's shoulder was able to speak to the new Prime Minister.
"Mr. Mosley, we you will be in the black car in the middle of the convoy!"
"My Fuhrer! We just got a report from our Embassy in London!"
"Oh? And?"
"Mr. Mosley won the race, he is to be the new Prime Minister of Great Britain!"
"Duce! Duce, sir!"
"Hmm? What is it?"
"We just got a report, Sir Oswald Mosley one the race for Prime Minister."
"Mr. President."
"Yes?"
"We just got a report of London, Sir Oswald Mosley one the race by a large margin." FDR looked at the man who had given him the report for a few moments longer, then put his face in his hands.
"This is not good."
The next week for Prime Minister Oswald Mosley was one without rest. He had to go through numerous ceremonies, several radio shows, meet up with many of the leaders of the British dominions, talk down a rebellion in Australia, dodge the conservative party members trying to bash his head in, etc. Probably the best part of those days was his victory speech he made in front of a crowd of thousands, at least, recorded thousands.
That crowd was far too big to be a few thousand, as the media reported it.
"Quiet, quiet! Your attention, please! Sir Oswald Mosley will now make his speech, a warm welcome for your new Prime Minister!" Roaring applause welcomed Mosley, who walked onto the stage to look over the crowd. He let the applause and cheering go on for a few moments, then put his hand up as a call for silence. Quickly, the chatter went silent, so he began speaking.
"It is my greatest honor to stand before you today. Even though we had a rough run of things, even if the last governmental heads tried to drag us back, the people were far stronger than them. Their willpower untouched by the constant lies and smear campaigns of the of the power hungry individuals at the time. An unprecedented 75% of British voters, unseen in who knows how long! The people of Britain have finally opened their eyes to the truth, that we must meet the violence and lies of out foes with an iron fist, and prove that it is not us that are weak! We-" A sudden cry came from the crowd, several people rising from their seats.
"We don't want your lies!" One shouted, throwing something noticeably round and red at Mosley. The Prime Minister was fast enough to duck behind the podium. The tomato, which Mosley could now tell that was what it was, sail over the podium and nail one of the Royal Guard, who had been sent for the purpose of looks at the speech, in the face. As he fell back, several more objects were thrown. The Royal Guard had to duck in cover as more dangerous items were thrown.
Where Mosley was crouched, he could see around the side of his podium a bit. The crowd had almost all stood up, to either throw stuff at Mosley, get away from the violent attackers, or to confront them. He saw someone grab the arm of one of Mosley's protesters, and another bash the man in the head with a cane. These people were not in the traditional black shirt and uniform of his supporters, who were all at one wall, watching the event like hawks.
Mosley turned to face them, seeing most were going to pull out their weapons, a mix of clubs, knives, and even handguns. However, they were waiting for the order of one of the men, an old officer from the military. Mosley locked eyes with the man, and shook his head frantically.
The police and military officers had broken away from their positions, taking down the rioters and arresting them.
The black shirt officer nodded, saying something to the others. This caused them to all go back to their seats, though it seemed hesitant.
After the last of the rioters were dragged away, surprisingly with no major injuries or casualties. Mosley stood up, dusting off his suit.
"Well, now that we have our more vocal friends out of the way…" The speech went on without a hitch following that moment.
The media was also rather lax with him, at least, the ones that actually talked to him. Many didn't even bother to contact him for an interview, instead spewing lies about how he refused to comment, or things along those lines. He just left the recording studio of one of his more supportive news stations, a car waiting for him.
"How was your interview, Mr. Mosley?" The driver asked, opening the door for Mosley. The Prime Minister gave an answer halfway between 'A good talk' and 'I am never going there again'. Mosley sat down, half asleep by this point. Once he go home, that would mark the end of his third week as Prime minister as Great Britain.
Much had already changed in Britain. To say that they had gotten themselves out of the economic crisis that had so plagued them would be an understatement. They blew past the United State's come back (thanks to FDR). of course, much of that was thanks to Germany and Italy, who Mosley had signed a trade agreement with, a trade alliance so to speak. With great Britain back on its feet, Mosley could focus on other things. Several violent riots in Australia and British Raj lead to him bolstering the Royal Navy, army, and the RAF. This lead to some backlash, many of his naysayers calling him a warmonger.
"Straight home, sir?"
"Yes…" Mosley said in an exasperated manner, leaning back in his seat. The car started up, and went down the dark street. Mosley looked out to the right, watching closed shops roll by.
It was in that moment that a bright light came from his right. He had barely turned when the car shook from the force of a hit, the door and roof crumpling under the impact.
Mosley blacked out when his head struck the window.
"... Is he dead?"
"No idea, the door won't budge." One of the two men tried to pry the door again, but it was too far crushed to be any use. The other gave an exasperated moan, crossing his arms.
"Fine, I'll go get a bat or something, we'll just break a window-" This would not be done, however, as just down the street, a car's headlights turned on.
Everything was more or less a blur for Sir Oswald mosley following the crash, though he did catch tidbits of the conversations and sound outside.
"- Shit, it's the BUF! How did they get here?!"
"They were probably acting as guards for Mosley, run!" he didn't hear any gunfire, or a scuffle. He soon blacked out after hearing a new voice join.
"He's still in the car! Joseph, Mark, go after those guys, Luke, go get some police! Arthur, help me get this door open…"
"Stand back, please." Police and BUF members all crowded around the hospital Sir Oswald Mosley had been taken to. A large crowd had gathered, people of all steps of life, most having just heard the news of the near fatal collision their Prime minister was involved in. The wreckage of the two cars had been moved, and one of assailants was arrested after fleeing the scene of the crime, being brought down by the two BUF members that went after him. No matter how adamantly he claimed he had nothing to do with the accident, it was clear he was guilty, as the vehicle was licensed under his name.
After that information had come to light, he talked.
Michael Lone, member of the British Communist Party, his partner was also a member. This information was yet to be released to the public, but the military and police were doing a full investigation, to see how deep this murder attempt went into the party.
"Sir Mosley, it is good to see that you are alive." The BUF secretary said, relief in his voice. The bedridden Prime Minister fidgeted in his bed, looking quite tired of being stuck there.
"Yes, yes, all is good. Tell me, what has happened these past few days? I know full well the nurse nor the doctor was letting no one in!"
"Yes, that nurse was quite adamant about us not entering, but a lot has happened sir, starting with the communists."
"Oh, anything good?"
"Possibly the best news I have received all week sir, and it has almost all been good news! The Communists are finished!"
"Oh?"
"Indeed, it turns out this was a plot by their leadership, and all have been arrested! The party is finished for good!"
"Well, that is good news! You said there was more?"
"I would not lie, sir! Even better, Sir Churchill, and most of the Conservative Party, has swung to our side and is now financially backing our movement. They said that 'While we do not agree with the BUF or Sir Mosley on most ideological viewpoints, it is still and outrage and a clear display of foul play when a party attempts the murder of not just the head of a rival party, but the head of a rival party who happens to be the acting Prime Minister! This is unacceptable. This is why the Conservative Party is putting its full financial might behind Sir Mosley until the next election!'"
"Clearly this is just a ploy to get in good with me and the people."
"Well, obviously, but it is good publicity for you, able to unite to parties and wipe out a violent one all in one week?"
"And I didn't even need to get out of bed to do it."
"Or wake up…"
"Quite, anyways, any more information?"
"A little more, sir. President Adolf Hitler arrived a few hours ago, he will be here for the next week and the doctor said you would be free to go in four days. Benito Mussolini will arrive in four days, he had some business to take care of and will fly here from Rome."
"Good, good. Is that all?"
"Yes, sir. Atleast, at this moment."
The following few days were miserable for Mosley, the nurse refused to let even his secretary in again, so he was disconnected from the outside world.
Aside from whatever the Doctor and Nurse told him, but that was stuff he saw in the paper, he really needed to hear what was going on in the government.
However, today the suffering he was put through in the hospital room was finally up, and he was discharged from the hospital. He walked out of the hospital in the same beat up suit he wore the day of the crash. Waiting in the pickup-dropoff area was a convoy of three car, several police officers gathered there.
"Mr. Mosley!" One of the BUF members, he recognised as the older gentleman and officer from his victory speech, walked over, waving.
"Ah, Camberson, did I miss anything since my secretary came to me four days ago?"
"No, sir. Though Mister Adolf Hitler seems really anxious to get this meeting underway, and Mister Benito Mussolini will arrive within the next hour or so, his plane was delayed.
"Good, we shouldn't keep the President waiting ny long, should we?"
"No, sir."
"Duce!"
"Eh?"
"I… Don't know how to tell you this in any reassuring matter… Sir, London is under attack!" Benito Mussolini just stared at the men, his eyes wide.
"UNDER ATTACK?! By who?!"
Hey, hey! Chapter 1 is away.
It was kind of everywhere, but I needed to set the stage.
Who is invading Great Britain, I wonder? What will happen to the three world leaders?
Leave a review and tell me how I did, if you would please!