When Giants Fall
Chapter Four
A/N: I'm back.
The jungles surrounding the American city New York were alive with activity. Thousands of workers were cutting down the massive trees that had stood there since settlers first colonized the area thousands of years ago. Lincoln and Roosevelt watched the workers from atop a tall observation tower, the former in solemn silence and the latter in hardly contained excitement. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Roosevelt grinned at his companion, "The things the American people can do when united like this is amazing, eh Lincoln?"
Lincoln glared the shorter man, but before he could reply, a particularly large tree was toppled, filling the air with the sound of thunder. Roosevelt laughed aloud, grabbing a megaphone, and shouted words of encouragement, "Good work, everyone! You're making your country proud!" Below, many of the workers raised their fists, some perhaps in cheer, but others Lincoln assumed were topped with a middle finger. Unknown to naïve Roosevelt, most of these men are actually slaves, prisoners of war that Washington conscripted to massive labor forces for projects such as this. "Honest" Abe sighed, "I hope this plan of his will make up for the time we're putting into it."
"Of course it will!" Roosevelt exclaimed. He paused suddenly, face scrunching up as he began to think, then asked sheepishly, "What was the plan again?"
"Roosevelt," Lincoln rolled his eyes, "how do these things pass your mind so quickly? Washington plans on building a new city here devoted to scientific research to ensure our military stays at the cutting edge of weapons technology."
"Ah, of course. But how will this city be any stronger in science than older cities?"
"That's the other part of this plan I'm nervous about. He wants to move all of our greatest scientific minds there so they can work together and, hopefully, faster."
Roosevelt was taken aback, "But what would happen if the city was taken?"
Lincoln snorted, "I asked the same, but Washington believes that to be an improbability. I don't know what defenses he has in mind, but he's confident in their abilities."
"Well," Roosevelt nodded, convincing himself, "Washington wouldn't take the risk without a good idea on how to protect the city. I'm sure it will be fine."
Lincoln sighed and shook his head. No matter how much he wanted to snap at Roosevelt, he couldn't bring himself to do it. The youngest of America's leaders, Roosevelt truly believed in America's grand lie as a place of freedom and happiness and Washington's façade of kindness. How such a man ever became a leader of anything was beyond him, but Lincoln liked that there was still some innate goodness in this hole of a world power.
He turned towards a technician who was intently studying the plans for the new city, "How are things coming along?"
The man snapped up, surprised out of his concentration, "Uh, sectors 2, 3, and 7 are all behind schedule due to wild animal attacks, but otherwise things are going smoothly," came the reply, the man's voice thick with accent.
"Good, good," Lincoln withdrew a pen and note pad from his jacket and quickly jotted a note down, handing it to the technician, "Take this down to Mr. Jenningston at sector 1, then return here."
"Understood," the worker said and left the room. Lincoln frowned. Something about the man's accent created a sense of unease. It sounded familiar, but he was unsure where. His mind returned to when Justinian had shouted his accusations against Washington, which, Lincoln reminded himself bitterly, were right on all accounts. Wait a minute. His eyes widened as he realized where he recognized the accent from. Justinian had the same accent! Then that means…"Byzantine spy!"
"What?" Roosevelt looked around, bewildered.
Lincoln ignored him and pointed towards the technician, who had broken into a run at the sound of his exclamation, "Stop that man!"
Two guards at the end of the hall drew their firearms and aimed at the spy. Without hesitation, the Byzantine threw himself out the closest window. Lincoln ran to the window and looked down expecting a crumpled form at the tower's base. To his amazement, the spy not only survived but was also making a dash for the jungle. Lincoln ran back to the observation deck and took the megaphone from Roosevelt. Putting it at full volume, he turned towards the guards and workers near the fleeing spy and shouted, "Stop that Byzantine spy!" The guards turned and prepared their weapons. Lincoln sighed in relief, the game is over. Or so it had seemed.
As the first guard readied his gun, one of the workers stood up and, with what looked like little effort, buried the axe he had been using to cut the trees into more portable chunks into the soldier's back. The sharp cry of pain stopped everyone in their tracks but the spy, who used the distraction to disappear in the foliage. The worker pulled his axe out of his victim and shouted in angry German, "Freedom!" The rest of the workers took up the cry, even though most probably had little to no clue what he had said. The prisoners and laborers rose as one and attacked the guards, turning the fields into a massacre. Even with their rifles, the Americans couldn't stop the superior numbers and quickly began to retreat.
Lincoln clicked his tongue, his frustration rising, "Come, Roosevelt, we're leaving." Or we're just a dead nation that doesn't know it yet.
"What? We can't just leave these men here to die!"
"We have to if we want to survive."
"But…" Roosevelt grimaced.
"Look," Lincoln stared him in the eye, "I'm not too happy with it either, but we aren't fighters. Those men will tear us apart if we go out there. The best we can do is head back and tell Washington so he can prepare an army. You've seen war before, not everyone can be saved." Roosevelt stood stock still for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. The two made their way to a lone jet waiting to take them to the capital. Lincoln turned back to survey the camp once more, For a spy to escape with our plans and an uprising to begin so early in the war effort was not taken into consideration. I hope this security of Washington's is everything he claims.
A/N: Not too bad for my return chap, eh? Anyway, this chapter looks at something I can't help but hate. Spies. Why is it that even my best pals feel they have to spy on me and make my cities miserable? I mean, ignoring the war declarations, city razing, insults, genocide…extortion…nuking…kidnappings… I'm going to shut up now. Thanks for reading and I'll see you guys later!