A/N: Hey fellers! And welcome to my story!

Just a few things I wanted to mention before starting: This story is a crossover between Mass Effect and Wolfenstein, with some TNO: Last Days of Europe thrown in the mix to spice it up a little. This is a pretty heavy AU, and there I bended the lore a bit to make it all fit. Hope this clear everything up!

25/2 1964

Somewhere in rural Cuba.

It was sunny and hot, unbearably so. James could never get used to the heat down here. Then again, he did leave the cool climate back in Illinois in favor of the relative freedom that came with living down here. One of the few places yet untouched by the Reich's aggression. He walked through the muddy street of this small village. He nodded to greet the villagers as he made his way towards the small bar located in the heart of the village.

As he got inside, he noticed that it seemed rather lively. Even considering that this was in fact a Tuesday. He scanned the bar for the one person he was looking for. When he didn't see him right away, he double checked his watch to see if perhaps he had gotten there earlier. When he noticed that he was on time, he quickly went over to the bartender.

James ordered a beer and asked if he had seen another gringo in the bar. The bartender pointed to one of the corners that had it's curtains closed. He didn't say anything, a small agreement that he had neither seen nor heard anything. James nodded and dropped a small tip for the bartender. He walked over to the corner and slowly opened the curtains. Behind sat a man, silently enjoying his gin and a cigar. He huffed out some smoke as he inspected the man who had just opened his curtains.

"Come in and close it." The man ordered, but not in a demanding way. James quickly did as told, and sat in front of the man. "You can say what you will about Cuba, but god damn, they sure know how to make a good cigar." The man remarked as he say the large cigar back into it's place in the ashtray.

"Nice to see you again Richard." James smiled.

"You too James… But how in the hell can you live in this heat?" Richard asked as he adjusted his collar. "It's hot, and it smells like a goddamn sewer." He remarked.

"I wouldn't call it living. Surviving is probably a better term." James smiled, and Richard chuckled a bit.

"I can imagine." Richard said as he took a sip of his gin. "It's a good gin. Reminds of the one I had in London almost 20 years ago. Those fellers at the OSA sure knew how to pick 'em." Richard remembered as he got that far away look he usually had when he thought back to better times.

"I wouldn't know. Never been to England." James replied, and every time that Richard mentioned it, he wish he had done so when he had the chance. Now, there was even a small chance of James ever getting back to his home state.

"One that you might… God willing." Richard suggested, James nodded. Silently hoping he would live to see the day. "Did you get my full message?" Richard asked.

"No. I only got the memo to haul my ass over to the nearest place they still served gin." James once again smiled, Richard tried to hide the small chuckle he made. He took another sip of his gin, and James followed suit with a sip of his beer.

"Our spies in Germania say he is ill." Richard said.

"Who?" James asked.

"Hitler." Richard answered coldly, and it almost made James choke on his beer. He hadn't expected to hear that. He took a few seconds to compose himself.

"Ill as in-"

"He is dying. Our sources say the doctors don't give him much more than six months to live, if that." Richard replied, his warm and emotional expression was gone. In it's place was the face of someone planning something big.

"Shit… So it's finally happening?" James asked hopefully. Hitler had done everything to destroy everyone's lives in this world. Earth was literally resting beneath The Reich's Jackboot, never even allowed an ounce of freedom.

"It is. We've double-checked, triple checked even, he really is dying. He is quite old as well, so it was sort of expected." Richard explained. Not to James though, he had expected someone like Hitler to be the life long face of the Reich. His immortal enemy. Yet now, he was on death's bed? Seemed almost surreal.

"What will come afterwards? I assume Göring is the still the successor?" James asked.

"'has been the de facto successor since Hess died in the skies over Scotland. Though I doubt he is really gonna be able to perform any actions independently. The Wehrmacht have their hand so far up his ass, they can touch his ribs. Not to mention he's higher than a kite half the time, busting himself full of meth and opium every chance he gets." Richard explained.

"You don't believe he will be successor?" James asked confused. Göring always seemed like the obvious choice to him. The famous uncle of the Reich, second only to Hitler in popularity. But it was true enough, the years of drug abuse had taken a toll on Göring.

"I think Bormann is the obvious second choice. He has been real cozy with the Führer for the last few years. It's obvious he won't be changing the course Germany has on been so far. A real conservative… I don't know if that's worse…" Richard remarked as he slipped James a piece of paper. James eagerly read through it. It was a report on the situation, and it was very in depth.

"Wait a minute…. You think Speer is a possibility?" James asked as he read through it. Richard puffed out some smoke.

"About as likely as Goebbels is to be picked. And even less likely to win an armed struggle if any such thing were to occur." Richard remarked.

"Armed struggle? You think that-"

"Yes. Probably a 70 per cent chance of it happening. These people hate each other's guts." Richard replied.

"What about the last 30 per cent?" James asked.

"Unless they all get together and talk it out, they won't be able to get each other's viewpoints. If they form a cabinet together, then maybe." Richard answered. James nodded slowly as he went back to reading the report in front of him.

"It says Speer is the best option for us?" James was confused. But, fact remained that he knew very little of the Architect, who was one of the Führer's best friends.

"He is the most likely to reform the Reich. You know how people are, give 'em an inch they'll take-"

"-A mile, I know. So he is the one to open the floodgates?" James asked, and Richard nodded. "Why shouldn't he win then? Seems like the Germans should be in favor of it."

"Because the only people openly supporting him are students and hippies." Richard said. "Neither is good for winning a war." He added. James nodded. So Speer was the best scenario for the Reich going forward.

"What about this last one-" James read a bit further in the report. "Heydrich?" He asked. He knew that name. Anyone who knew that name should live in eternal fear as long as that man lived.

"Pray to God he doesn't get the spot… The world will be doomed if that happens." Richard said, his voice now strong and commanding. James nodded. There was no telling what would happen if Heydrich got to be the leader of all of the German forces… Or worst yet… He got his hands on the nuclear launch codes… The man was a puppet for Himmler, no doubt, though James often wondered how much trust the SS leader had for the man himself. In the last decade however, he had gone even more mad, shifting the boundaries of brutality that people once would have thought of as existing only in fiction.

There was a small period of silence between them as James read on. It was a detailed report on what the resistance had gathered. Different scenarios and different outcomes for the world. Some were worse than others.

"So what do you want me to do?" James finally asked. Richard didn't say anything as he reached into his bag to grab some more stuff. He handed James a sizable envelope. It felt heavy in his hand. He slowly opened it, and dug up it's contents. First thing that greeted him was an Argentinean passport, which had his portrait and a fake name in it. James looked up at Richard with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to travel to Germania. Be my eyes and ears, and see if you can make contact with the remains of the Kreisau Circle." Richard requested.

"But we can just get Blazkowicz-"

"He is dead!" Richard had raised his voice, but quickly stopped himself before he alerted everyone in the bar. "He died four years ago! They all died in that dreaded submarine!" Richard said. James had never accepted that. He had met Blazkowicz many years ago… And that man always seemed immortal. When they said he had died in 1946, he didn't accept that. And he didn't accept it when they said he died in 1960. "You need to let that go. We can't all sit back and expect Blazkowicz to come back from the grave to save us all."

James sighed. He knew it was no use arguing with Richard. He was too stubborn. "But what about the Red Army? Surely they will attack if the Reich falls into civil war." James suggested.

"Don't tell me you actually believe that fairy tale? The Red Army living in bunkers in the Urals, building weapons of war and just waiting for the right time…" Richard had heard the story by so many members in the resistance. He was getting tired of it. Story went that after the Nazis seized Moscow, the Red Army retreated to the Urals, where Stalin had been building bunkers for them. And that now they were just arming up for the final showdown.

James looked down in the table. He knew that he put a lot of faith in different rumors. But the resistance was simply in no shape to either overthrow the Reich, or rule it afterwards. Not to mention that the resistance was held together by so many factions that all believed in different futures.

James took all of the papers and put them in his bag. "What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"There will be a boat waiting for you in Havana that will take you to Europe. Enter the Reich under the pretense of going there for a business delegation, export of meat and what not. Try to contact this person-" Richard slipped a note with a name and phone number on it. "-And work your way from there. Send all your letters to my current PO box in Chile. You know the one." Richard commanded as he took the last dip of his drink and smoke a bit more of his cigar.

"I understand. I'll get it done." James assured him. Richard nodded, content with the answer.

"Good luck… And god speed my old friend." Richard said as he stood up and shook hands with James. Maybe for the last time. The future seemed uncertain at best. James walked out of that bar with both excitement and dread in his mind all at once. He would try his best.