Chapter 4: Red

Alfred sighed as he watched the news, getting tired of all of the false Soviet reports that kept popping up because of Senator McCarthy. As the "Red Scare" influenced more and more of the American citizens, Alfred found himself with an increasingly worse view of his old ally and all he was doing. It was honestly very annoying having a clouded aspect on life.

"This can't end well man." he glared at the TV set, getting up to turn it off. It was making him sick, thinking that such an idiot was actually swaying people into believing lies. It was no wonder any immigrants from Communist East Europe were getting singled out so quickly.

It scared him, to think that one man, one human could change the opinion of an entire country so quickly was mind-blowing. Honestly, he felt so incredibly bad for Ludwig and Gilbert after this experience. He could now better understand why they did what they in the war without a second thought, yet regretted it so deeply that their minds blocked the harsher part of the memories from their minds.

Snapping out of his own little universe he turned on his heel to walk over to a nearby coat rack. He grabbed his bomber, pulling it on to walk out his door. Alfred shoved his hands in his pockets, walking out to find his shiny little Cadillac. It wasn't hard to find since he had the only one on the block, and it was bright red. The color had caused him a few problems, but only until he put the American flag on there.

After he finally made it out of his parking spot he was headed down the road. Yet he found himself somewhat distract as his mind wandered to a conversation he he had had about an hour earlier with Arthur.

'We can't find any records, except of a woman named Kelly Mcclain, whom had a daughter. However she never married… Her daughter went missing after Kelly died.'

"And?"

'Later resurfaced in Russia where she was adopted by a worker from the Russian embassy by the name of Ivan Richoviech. Her Russian certificate gave her a Russian name-'

Needless to say, Alfred was worried. Had Ivan lied to his "daughter"? Or was the information planted? He shook his head.

"It'll be fine," he muttered, pulling up to the curb outside of Joyce's home. "Right?"

Imagine his surprise, though, when he saw Vladimir fleeing from the house. Alfred leapt from his car, ignoring the fleeing man as he dashed inside. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as he found the woman, collapsed in a heap beneath the front bay window. He gently wrapped his arms around her, but lurched back when she jumped away.

She was crying.

"A-Alfred!"

"Joyce! Are you okay?! Why was Vladimir here?!"

"He… he…!" she flung herself into his arms. "Oh Alfred! He was afraid!"

"What?"

"He-Vladimir! He wants me to turn myself over to your government! The Union thinks I'm an American spy! Vladimir says a Soviet is here, in New York after any defects from the Union!"

His blood ran cold. "Soviet?"

"Yes!" she held tight to him. "They went after Vladimir, and he only barely got away with his life! He tried going to the police but they wouldn't help him, so he came straight here to warn me!"

Alfred growled, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. She let out a squeak of pain, pushing against him until her let go. Joyce fell back, looking up in fear at the anger darkening his eyes. The man clenched his fists, but let his features soften when he saw how frightened she seemed to be.

"McCarthy's stirred up too much trouble. Anyone from Russia is a top target. You… You should be careful. If anyone were to find out about you-" his conversation with Arthur resurfaced in his mind, making him stop. The woman gasped as he lifted her to her feet, a smile suddenly on his face.

"Let's go find Vladimir."