"Good night Mr West." The secretary said as the old man passed her desk. Unsurprisingly he did not bother to respond.

Over all the years that he had worked for the Home Office Clarence West had gained a reputation for being a solitary curmudgeon, a condition that had only worsened since the death of his wife some years before. Tucked away in his little office within the ministry building he did his job well even if he rarely spoke to anyone. With the war raising all sorts of concerns about information being leaked that made him the perfect employee so far as his superiors were concerned. If he rarely spoke to anyone there was that much less of a chance that he would let something slip.

Lately Clarence had been even less sociable than usual. Not that he would tell anyone but he had been troubled for the past week by unusually vivid dreams of his dear departed wife. It had been nearly eight years since she had passed and Clarence could not fathom why she now featured so prominently in his mind, asking all sorts of pressing questions about his work and the war. She had never been that interested in that sort of thing even when she was alive. He chalked it up to overwork in the end.

Arriving at his home Clarence entered and walked past the dusty sitting room. Living alone for so many years had its advantages. Not having to worry about family or acquaintances trying to stop in at all hours was rather liberating. Clarence might have been a solitary man but he had all sorts of diversions to entertain himself, not having to spend any of his salary on anyone else. By the time he had wound down for the day and finished his last cup of tea he only hoped that his sleep was better tonight.

So when he awoke, bound and gagged in what appeared to be his cellar, it came as an incredible shock. Though not so much as who was standing above him. Himself.

"You thought you were clever, eh? Thought you could sneak right in here and take over my life. Well luckily I saw right through your trickery. Now you are going to tell me everything. You changed the combination of my filing cabinet, didn't you? What is it now?" The dreadful mirror image rattled off questions while pressing a pencil into Clarence's own hand.

None of this made sense. Had he been drugged? The way that the world seemed to waver and the pain in his arm made him suspect it. Yet the other Clarence knew things, from his questions. Could it be that he was an imposter? No, the other must be. It was so very hard to tell.

"Just tell him what he wants to know." A woman's voice whispered into his ear. It was the voice of his wife, at least as it had been in his dreams. It did not really sound like her but it must have been.

Adrift in confusion the old man found himself scribbling down answers if only to get the infernal questions to stop. Every answer he gave just caused more questions to pour forth from his damnable doppelganger. Or was he the doppelganger? He could not even tell.

"I can't breathe through this damn thing." Nikolai complained once more after finishing another bout of wheezing. The thick cloth over his face was making it even more difficult for him to catch his breath than normal.

"Fine, if it will stop your damn coughing," His attendant muttered as he pulled the hood up to Nikolai's nose, letting the older man take a few deep breathes. "No further though."

That his escorts were willing to make that compromise gave Nikolai hope that he would live to see the end of the day. Being hustled out of his office and into a blacked out car by a couple of NKVD thugs had not exactly been how he wanted to start the day. Having a hood shoved over his head once they started to drive had made him fear for the worst. They had been driving for hours now, just where were they taking him?

Seeing as the other men in the car were not much for conversation Nikolai was forced to sit there quietly and wonder just what the hell he had been thinking to volunteer for this disaster. He knew what this was all ultimately about. Effectively no progress had been made so far in studying the German tankmen. No matter how they cut and probed the corpses that had been recovered they were no closer to understanding how they worked than they had been at the start. It was of little consolation that the other teams had not fared any better than his had. All that meant was that when Stalin decided to start blaming people they could all cozy up in a single grave.

Finally the car came to a halt. Pulling Nikolai's hood down again the NKVD men guided him into a building. At least the carpets felt like they were of a high quality, better than he suspected graced the floor of the Lubyanka. After being lead through several sets of doors the hood was pulled from his head and Nikolai could finally get a look at his surroundings. There was not much to go on. The room was well decorated but the curtains were all tightly drawn. Guards were posted beside the doors. Other men were already waiting seated against the far wall. Nikolai could only recognize the lead chemist from the facility he was in, the others were a mystery.

While his original escorts left the same way that they had come another soldier pressed a sheet of paper into Nikolai's hands.

"Memorize this. The meeting will begin soon." The man motioned for him to join the others.

Pulling out his cigarette case and reading glasses Nikolai lit a smoke before beginning to read. There was barely anything typed on the page but after taking in the first line he felt his heart skip. Hurriedly he worked down the rest of the paper.

Testing Procedure

1) Remove test from buffering solution. Test will degrade upon contact with atmosphere. Do not leave test exposed for more than ten minutes. CONTACT WITH TEST WILL CAUSE DEATH IN NEGATIVE CANDIDATES AND SEVERE ILLNESS IN POSITIVE CANDIDATES. OBSERVE SAFETY PRECAUTIONS.

2) Collect blood sample from candidate via syringe. Protocols should be in place to prevent contamination.

3) Place one drop of blood from sample onto test. A positive response will produce a small amount of light and residue. All other results indicate a negative response. Test should not be physically held during testing procedure.

4) Prepare positive candidates for the activation procedure. Dispose of the test via incineration to prevent risk of exposure.

There were a few more lines, technical information mostly, but there was only one thing that this could possibly be instructions for. Nikolai could now hope that his failure would not be so harshly punished given that the way to make tankmen had been found. This was of course assuming that the components of the tests themselves had also been discovered. It seemed unlikely that he would be seeing this if they had not been. He could only wonder whether they had managed to steal it from the Germans directly or if one of the other Allies had beat them to it.

Everyone in the room sat in silence, no doubt going over the possibilities in their minds just as Nikolai was. Finally the double doors were opened and soldiers ushered them down the hall and into another room. The men waiting for them there were the ones that Nikolai had suspected.

Marshal Zhukov, Lavrentiy Beria and Stalin himself. It was the Premier who addressed the assembled men once they had been lined up in front of him. From behind his desk he looked like a judge inspecting criminals awaiting their sentences.

"I have been told that you are each experts within your respective fields. Yet so far you have been able to show nothing for your efforts in studying the Fascist's living weapons. Luckily for you our allies were able to succeed where you failed. Now I am willing to give you all a chance to redeem yourselves." Stalin nodded to Zhukov as he finished speaking.

"The British have furnished us with the instructions for testing for tankmen, with the first shipment of tests arriving shortly. The actual material required for the transformation will be sent later. We had already been preparing reinforcements for the front. There will be a short window to test them in before the negative candidates," Zhukov looked a bit bewildered at the term. "Are sent on to perform their regular duties."

A sensible if morbid measure. If the tankmen were to be the new face of warfare then those who could not be transformed were expendable. Nikolai would not be surprised if that was the way that the Stavka viewed the average soldier for the whole war, casualty counts being what they were.

"That we are at the mercy of the capitalists is unacceptable. Not only are you to ensure that we have sufficient tankmen to throw back the fascist aggressors but you will also determine how we can produce them ourselves." Beria would of course be the one enforcing punishment if they failed. A nasty little man with a nasty little mind and far to much power for anyone's good.

"One in five-thousand men are said to be capable of becoming tankmen. I will be expecting the first report on how many you have discovered the day after the tests arrive. Should the numbers be insufficient then more motivated men will be found to take your places." Stalin folded his hands as he looked at the men sweating in front of him. With the stakes that were riding on success he was not mincing words.

"If I may Comrade Stalin," An younger man further down the line from Nikolai spoke up, still looking self assured when Stalin's gaze focused on him alone. Must have had good connections to stick his neck out like that. "The test may sound simple but it will take time to secure the necessary equipment. Men will have to be trained on taking the blood samples correctly."

This was obviously not the answer that Stalin was hoping for. Watching the gears turn in the man's head Nikolai decided that he might as well through caution to the wind. He had assumed that everyone else had noticed the same flaw in the instructions but perhaps not.

"Why bother drawing blood? The test only needs a drop and you can get that by pricking a man with a pin or the edge of a knife. Both of which are plentiful and simple enough to sterilize."

"You think that you know better than the Germans how to run their own test?" Stalin asked Nikolai. Everyone was staring at him now. Might as well charge ahead.

"If I had to guess I would say that these instructions were written looking at subjects in a lab. But this is not an experiment anymore. You don't make tanks in a lab, you make them in a factory. We must look at the tankmen in the same way. Why waste the time on the first selection if only one in five thousand will have what we want? Once we have identified the candidates then we can investigate them properly." Nikolai was rather impressed that he had made it so far without coughing, though his lungs felt as if they were barely able to breathe as it was.

Stalin was silent for a few achingly long moments before clapping his hands and smiling.

"Very well comrade. We shall see if you have outsmarted the Germans at their own game," Stalin turned to Beria. "Give him what he needs. Set the others up with the procedure as listed."

As Beria took Nikolai by the arm to lead him off to plan the endeavour the true enormity of what he had just done struck him. He had willingly thrown himself right into the line of fire. If he failed, hell even if he just did not meet Stalin's unspecified expectations, it would spell doom for not only him but likely his remaining family.

That left only one course of action. To not fail.

Entering General Morton's office Patrick had to duck a little as he passed through the door frame. He had finally surpassed the other tankmen in height and was now noticing just how low everything felt. It might not hurt him if he hit is head but the building would feel it.

"There you are son, take a seat. I've got some news for you that I figured should be delivered in person." Stanley waited for Patrick to get himself comfortable. Chairs were another problem now, it always felt like his knees were pressed up against his chest with how low most were. Small problems all things considered.

"Thank you sir. I just hope that it's good news." Patrick replied once he had finally found a reasonable position.

"It's a bit of a mix. I have the results of your family's tests."

"Well how did they do?" Patrick knew it was not that sort of test but he could not resist the opportunity. General Morton just chuckled and shook his head before speaking.

"All four of your sisters tested positive as tankmen. Your mother and the cousins that they could get their hands on all tested negative. Right now the policy is that unless they are a prospective Battleship all female candidates will be deferred and put on reserve duty. So they won't be shipping out anytime soon, you can rest easy there."

At first Patrick did feel a wave of relief run through him. For now his sisters would be spared having to endure the hardships of the battlefield but at least they would all have some kind of enhancement in the future. Once the war was over then they could all at least share that bond. He would not be left completely alone in this. After that relief had gone then Patrick realized that Stanley had forgotten someone.

"What about Eamonn? They not have a chance to get him stateside yet, I mean I know that you can't just send the tests out to the Pacific with the chance of a submarine or what have you."

"That is the bad news. As it stands right now your brother is officially missing in action." Stanley continued on hastily as he watched Patrick's face fall. "Now that doesn't mean that he is really missing. Just that he isn't with the unit that he should be. No one remembers him getting killed, just not being there one day. We believe that he was transferred but the proper paperwork wasn't filed. There are men looking for him all over, I'm sure that they will find him pretty quickly."

"Yeah, that's probably it. I knew a guy that happened to over here, damn pencil pushers just weren't paying attention. If that's all sir?" Patrick knew that he was not being all that convincing when Stanley rose to see him out.

"Don't worry yourself about it Patrick, your brother will show up safe and sound soon enough. Probably sitting on a beach somewhere with no idea about what's going on." Stanley clapped Patrick on the back as he went back out into the hallway.

Thankful for the reassurance but smart enough to know that it was largely bullshit Patrick nodded to Stanley before heading outside. He needed some fresh air after that news.

No one remembered Eamonn getting killed, that was all well and good unless if he had been captured at some point. What if he was out there somewhere waiting for rescue or had been shot up and was laying in a hospital bed unrecognizable? It was all Patrick's fault. He should have convinced Eamonn that there was plenty of things to do back home. Not that it would have worked but he should have tried at least.

At home when Patrick was faced with moments like this he would either get drunk or get into a fight. Usually the first then the second. After that his head would be clear enough that he could make a rational decision. Now getting drunk was impossible and there was no one around that he could fight without killing them. He would just have to bottle it up until they finally got a chance to get back into the fighting. Until then he just had to hold on and hope for the best. Just under two more weeks until he was fully activated, maybe Eamonn would turn up before then. Patrick could hold on for that long. Or at least he was pretty sure that he could.

With all the chaos and destruction being visited on the world Leah had been searching for a way to really help with the new war efforts. Rushing home she could barely contain her excitement that today she had been given the opportunity to do so. It would mean that she could not continue with her current duties of course but chances like this came along once in a lifetime.

The atmosphere at home had gotten a bit better. Deborah had at last found some work volunteering at their father's hospital. It helped force Deborah to confront her feelings about Benjamin's death, though she still had the occasional explosive moments. With time it might even help her decide whether she would follow Leah and David into medicine of some sort. For now all that mattered was that she was keeping herself busy. Suzanne had taken on even more charitable work to the point that Leah hardly ever saw her at all. In the rare moments where they did have time the conversations were almost overwhelming. Leah doubted that she could ever match her mother's efforts when it came to giving back to the community. As for David he stayed busy as ever. Which is why Leah was shocked to see the car parked in front of the house. By some miracle he must have gotten off early tonight.

As Leah took off her shoes and coat she could hear quiet conversation coming from the kitchen. Entering she found Deborah sharing dinner with their father. Both stopped to greet her.

"I'd hoped that you would also be home at a decent hour," David reached out and grasped Leah's arm as she passed. In return she put a hand on his shoulder . "Doctor Benson decided that he wanted to pick up some extra hours so I managed to sneak away."

"I made soup!" Deborah added. Tonight she looked rather happy. The prospect of having an evening meal with three family members in attendance was certainly rare these days and Leah was determined to cherish it.

"It smells wonderful Deborah," Leah placed her bag next to the table and got herself a bowl. Sitting down she took a deep breath before making her announcement. "I was planning on telling everyone at breakfast tomorrow but as you two are here I might as well tell you now. Mother is going to be late I assume?"

When David nodded that she would be Leah continued.

"Doctor Haverly visited me earlier today. You remember him father, I worked on his ward a few years ago. He was so impressed by me that he wanted me to join him at a new ward they are opening for men who have been injured by the German supersoldiers." It would be difficult work, essentially investigating new kinds of wounds with unknown long term effects, but Leah was ever up for a challenge. That her hard work had garnered such an invitation in the first place was a confirmation that she was on the right path.

"That is an incredible opportunity," David looked impressed himself as he considered the implications of the new position. "It will be a great responsibility of course but I cannot think of many people more qualified. From everything that I have heard the injuries that some of these men are coming in with are bizarre to say the least."

"Yes, Doctor Haverly gave me a packet they have prepared for everyone. I only had time to skim through it but the information is wide ranging to say the least." Leah pulled out the thick sheaf of paper that had been given to her. A lot of it was on known conditions that might be related with a few hastily written reports that had been gathered from the field. As David began to flip through the stack he commented on some of them while Deborah sat quietly off to the side. This was where Leah's bond with her father was strongest, when they both could share their passion for medicine. It was something she hoped they could soon include Deborah in as well.

"Burns, that seems understandable. Removal of foreign objects, I say those examples are a fair bit larger than one would expect," Stopping on one paper in particular David looked up quizzically at Leah. "Conjoined twins? I cannot see how that would be related at all."

"He didn't say, just that I should be prepared to see anything and everything." Leah shared her father's puzzlement over some of the cases that had been included. There was a very brief mention of a halo of some sort but what it had to do with everything else was still a mystery to her. As they continued to talk it over Deborah suddenly entered the conversation.

"Leah, what's this?" When Leah saw the piece of paper that her sister was holding she nearly panicked. Doctor Haverly had not been the only one to give her information today. Without realizing it Leah had also pulled out the list of possible places that she could rent from. Asking around the hospital had garnered a number of respectable establishments that she could afford on her salary.

"Its nothing," Leah lied as she carefully tugged the paper out of Deborah's hands and placing it back in her bag. "I was supposed to pass this off to Cynthia at the reception, with all the excitement I must have forgotten."

For now Deborah kept her silence but Leah could see the disbelief in her sister's eyes. Caught up in trying to decipher just what Leah would be working on David continued without noticing the tension brewing between his daughters. The conversation continued, if somewhat more stilted than before as Leah felt her sister's withering gaze.

"Well, no matter how terrible their injuries may be these men will be in good hands," David smiled at them both before reaching out and grasping their hands. "I know that things have been... difficult in the past few months. With everything that has happened I want you both to know just how proud I am of you."

"Thank you father," Leah began to gather the dishes once he let go of her hand. "Since Deborah cooked I'll wash up."

"Indeed, I'll help you dry them. Why don't you go and relax Deborah? If you end up training as a nurse you will learn to cherish every moment of rest you can get." David offered, leading to Deborah making her way upstairs. Once she had gone David turned to Leah and continued quietly.

"She seems to be doing a lot better. It means so much to your mother and I that you have taken the time to help her. I don't think that we let you know that often enough."

"It's really nothing." Leah lied through her teeth as she plunged her hands into the soapy water. How could she tell him the truth when he had just finished complimenting her on how well she was handling everything?

There were few enough dishes that it took little time to finish them. Leah excused herself and went up to her room. No sooner had she sat down at her desk than the door flew open as Deborah stormed in.

"'Oh its nothing.' What sort of an idiot do you think I am! How could you even think of leaving us, after everything?" Deborah was not quite shouting but her tone was still frantic. Getting up to placate her sister Leah tried to treat the situation the same as being confronted by a distraught patient or one of their family members. No matter how she tried she could not bring forth the same calm. This was too personal.

"Deborah, I've not made any plans to do anything yet. Its just that I'm reaching a point where I could use a space of my own where-"

"Where you won't have to put up with the rest of us, is that it? First Benjamin dies then everyone tries to pretend that nothing happened and now you're going to abandoned me too!" Deborah was screaming by the end. After long months of holding everything in something in Leah snapped.

"What am I supposed to do Deborah? Benjamin is gone and nothing is going to change that. I keep on trying to be the strong one and to hold everyone together but I can't. I can't fix this and I can't keep being the only one willing to try. I have given everything that I have and I just want to have a life of my own. Is that too much to ask?" As the emotions came tumbling out Leah found herself quivering. "You lost a brother? So did I, and a son. Because that is what the two of you are to me Deborah, my siblings and my children. I've been picking up after you your whole life, can't you finally stand on your own?"

Without a further word Deborah turned and stomped down the hallway to her room, slamming her door behind her. Leah did the same. The moment the door shut every muscle in her body felt as if it had turned to water. Leaning against the door Leah could not even bring herself to cry. Just to try and stay standing.

Those had been terrible things to say. Of course everyone else was trying to work through their grief over Benjamin's death. She did have a life of her own.

Those had been terrible things to say and it was even worse that deep down Leah believed every last one of them to be true.

There was a creaking of footsteps coming up the stairs. Quietly they came down the hall until they stopped in front of Leah's room. Even with the door closed Leah could see her father standing there in her mind's eye. Perhaps his hand was floating just above the wood, struggling to cover that last fraction of an inch and make contact. Much the same Leah tried to reach for the doorknob. All she had to do was open the door and then the two of them could finally confront their feelings. Yet her hands remained where they were and no knock came from the other side. Both father and daughter remained frozen. They were only inches apart and there might as well have been a whole continent between them.

Finally David's steps continued down the hall, stopping for the same minute of silence in front of Deborah' door before giving up and continuing, not into his own room but into Benjamin's. Hearing that door shut Leah was able to find the strength to take the few steps back to her bed.

What bizarre twist of nature had convinced them all that they could help other people when they could not even help themselves? It just seemed so much simpler when Leah was at the hospital. Even when she had dealt with the same patients recuperating over months there was still the necessary distance to address the issues.

As Leah laid down she could not even bring herself to cry. She had lost control and let out a monster that should have remained chained up within her. It would take months to heal the wounds inflicted by those few words. In the face of that she remained numb, staring up at the ceiling as sleep refused to claim her. What had she done?

"Good morning Mr West." The secretary said as the old man passed her desk. Surprisingly he tipped his hat to her in response.

"Morning." Clarence replied, if in a curt and manner of fact way before disappearing down the hall into his office.

"Would you look at that," One of the other secretaries said to the first. "Wonder what has gotten into the old codger?"

"Whatever it is I hope it sticks, I might actually get a full sentence out of him!" The first let out a little laugh at the thought and then went back to her work.

Such a small thing as it was neither thought much about it. Surely neither would have believed that it was as great a turning point in the war as unleashing the ubermensch had been.