Preston chuckled, "Indeed. So, keep that in mind that Thaddeus shall be proud in the situation you could imagine that he's watching you interact with Milo.", and Erskine exhaled, "How did you...?".
"I might have gotten someone to slightly mess up Milo's notes during a walkabout in the Smithsonian, and now Milo knows that the Journal's in Iceland, though he didn't know yet that we have received the book. It will be revealed in the meeting in his perspective.", Preston nodded with a smirk.
"So, Milo will be attending?", Erskine asked as Preston nodded, "Best we have someone there that understands the journal. He's really the only one who can truly; or at least that's 'still alive'. And would help our case even greater.".
Erskine nodded with a smile, "That's ingenious actually. And Thaddeus had the brilliant idea to fade his notes we worked on per your request to be months or least a year old since his 'death', so the president would think that we're doing this in honor of Thaddeus Thatch's last wish, and since now you mention that Milo's gonna be there, he would be more motivated to help our case even greater.".
Preston laughed heartily, "Good ol' Thaddeus. That's truly genius! How did you do it?", and Erskine smiled, "The stain and bake method, though not too much, along with some crumpling to add wrinkles, like they came from a notebook or such.".
"Clever.", Preston chuckled. "Certainly, this will all come as a surprise to Milo, that's for sure. So, since he's usually at the Smithsonian, I guess he'll probably be at the White House before us.".
The long way to Washington is then took up by breakfast and some more talking of preparing the right conversation for the meeting, and eventually a bit before 9, they arrived in Washington, with a bit of a detour to Preston's mansion to grab much nicer clothes, a fresh shower each for them, and of course, the Journal.
By 10:30, they left Preston's mansion, heading for the White House, knowing that the process by the Secret Service and such would take a while before they officially get up into the president's home, especially when they are going in the back in Preston's car to the subterranean garage.
Meanwhile, a young, bespectacled, anxious yet excited man of dirty blonde hair and warm brown eyes who goes by the name of Milo Thatch is waiting in one of the receiving rooms, keeping his fidgeting fingers busy by organizing and double-checking his notes, still in awe that he's literally going to meet Franklin D. Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States!
It certainly was a shock for him earlier that morning when Milo arrived at the museum, only to find a Secret Service agent waiting for him to tell him that he was to be at the White House later that morning, and to bring his notes regarding his 'specialty and hobby'; which practically was code for his Atlantis research.
As he continued to wait, he glanced around before one of the doors opened and out walked two men that Milo vaguely recognized. "I'll be sure to pass along the message to Number 10, Mr. Stimson.", the man, with a very obvious English accent said.
"Thank you, Lord Halifax.", Stimson said. "Obviously this conference and the talks, it's best we at least get a day or two amongst our respective selves to iron out what we'll give and take.".
Milo knew from the news that Stimson was obviously Henry L. Stimson, the Secretary of War for the United States, while the other man was Edward Wood, or as his proper title, 'The Viscount Halifax', the United Kingdom's ambassador to the United States.
Halifax walked away to another room before Stimson turned his attention to Milo. "Milo Thatch, is that correct?", Stimson asked.
Milo cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, nodded, standing up, holding out his hand, "Yes, sir. Milo Thatch, that's me.", and Stimson shook his hand, "Good. Are you related to the famed archeologist and explorer, Thaddeus Thatch?".
"Paternal side, yes, he is...was my grandfather.", Milo replied, his heart aching a lot inwardly that he wishes that his grandfather would be here, but he's determined to do his best for him through spirit.
"My condolences, let me say that now, I heard he died in an accident some time ago, is that correct?", Stimson politely asked, and Milo nodded. "It's still hard to accept... he pretty much was all the family I had left.", Milo sighed as Stimson nodded.
Stimson replied, "The ones we love dearly never really leave our hearts, Mr. Thatch. I'm sure he shall be proud of you. Now, do you have everything you need for this meeting?".
Milo looked at him gratefully before nodding firmly as he replied professionally, "Yes, sir. Am I to meet President Roosevelt soon?", as he glanced at his folder of notes and such, and Stimson replied, "In 30 minutes. Right now, you'll be joined by two men here in five minutes, to compare notes and something else, I believe, in relation of your grandfather. A Mr. Preston Whitmore, and a Dr. Abraham Erskine.".
Milo gave a bit of a look. "I'm not truly familiar with them.", he admitted as Stimson then gave him the look, "Are you sure? Surely your grandfather must have mentioned them to you a few times in the past.".
Milo exhaled, "No. But Grandpa said that he respected all the requests of his old friends from the past, so, I suppose some people preferred to live in privacy like many in other countries.".
Stimson blinked before replying, "I suppose that's fair as society has changed much over the decades. Well, you're welcome to the lemonade and water here. I'll see if our other esteemed guests have arrived at this floor.", before leaving the room.
Milo went back to organizing his papers, wondering why Stimson was a bit insistent with that look...Despite being friendly and well-raised on manners, Milo's essentially a loner, through it's not proclaimed that way, so he doesn't really know Washington, D.C. beyond his favorite places and all with his grandfather, next to the Smithsonian and his apartment, as he vaguely heard of a Whitmore, nothing much besides being a multi-millionaire, and for an Dr. Abraham Erskine, he's never heard of him, wondering if this Erskine's a doctor or a scientist.
After a few minutes; Milo felt like he was all good with his things before a few other men entered the same room that he was waiting in. One was an army officer that was talking to a bespectacled older man, and the third was another older gentleman. Milo had a good idea who at least two of these three men were.
Erskine replied warmly, "It's very good to hear that things are going well back at camp, Phillips. That Rogers is progressing very nicely.".
"He's certainly unorthodox with how he trains, that's for sure. But despite his body, he's got the heart of a trooper for sure.", Phillips chuckled before the three men looked to Milo.
Both Erskine and Phillips walked over to another part of the room as Preston walked up to Milo. "I was always hoping that someday I'd actually get to meet Thaddeus's grandson.", Preston said with a fond smile.
Milo exhaled, "You know of me, but I don't know you.", and Preston chuckled, "Thaddeus has told a lot of stories about you, Milo. And as for me, he knew I liked my privacy. I keep a low profile around here despite my multi-millionaire status. The reason we all are here is because of him.".
"Atlantis, right?", Milo whispered softly, and Preston laughed warmly, "You catch on quick! Just like your granddad! That, and other things of why Colonel Phillips is here. You heard of him; I suspect?".
Milo nodded, "Yeah, I know about him, he's one of the colonels under the Allies.", and Preston smiled, "Good...Now, there was something important Thaddeus had to get to me...Alas, I never knew how much he was right in never telling you, Milo, until we all agreed on that we had to protect you until today.".
"What do you mean, Mr. Whitmore?", Milo blinked in confusion, and Preston looked at him, "You know about the Nazi, correct?".
Milo nodded somberly, "Yes. Hitler is in command of them. Wait, did my grandfather get in trouble?", and Preston nodded, "Not what you were thinking. He was more of protecting you from getting hurt in case they got ahold of Thaddeus. Perhaps, this will clear your questions.", before opening his suitcase, and handed a wrapped gift in Thaddeus's penmanship.
Milo gasped softly, "It...it's from Grandpa...", and Preston nodded, "He told me if anything ever happened to him, I have to give this to you when you're ready, and well, I figured today is the day. Go ahead and open it.", with a soft smile, and Milo took a deep breath, and then unwrapped it, his eyes widening, "Oh, my god...It's...I can't believe it...This is the Shepherd's Journal!".
Preston motioned his hands. "Easy, Milo, easy!", he chuckled. "There's a lot of people in this building these days...". Milo took a deep breath as he calmed down.
"Wh-Where on earth did you find this?", he asked as Preston smirked. "Iceland.", he simply said as Milo's eyes brightened up.
"I knew it! I knew it!", Milo practically was as giddy as a schoolboy at that moment. Preston chuckled, "You truly are your grandfather's grandson, alright. Thaddeus had that same spirit.", as Milo held the Journal reverently, exhaling, "When?".
"Ah, about three years ago now. Thaddeus was dedicated to study it when he could, and then the war came on...He heard rumors and such, and he thought Atlantis would be a silly myth to the world, but he didn't expect how much a few people could take myths into superstitions...He made connections through me, keeping the Journal safe to the best he could, but recently...", Preston sighed heavily, resting on his cane.
Milo replied quietly, "It wasn't no accident, was it?", his heart beating, horror and realization of why his grandfather has never told him...He was truly protecting his grandson...
"That's why he kept it secret... there are those amongst the Nazis it would seem that take Atlantis just as serious as he did.", Preston sighed. "It may have been an accident for all I truly know, but...", Preston closed his eyes.
Erskine came over, patting Preston's shoulder like a comrade, "Ah, Herr Whitmore, I miss my old friend too. Mr. Thatch, you are the only one able to understand the Journal as Thaddeus often told me of your gift with linguistics. I'm Dr. Abraham Erskine, and Herr Whitmore had introduced me to your grandfather years ago, and I'm a scientist mind of the army.".
Milo blinked in surprise, "If the army likes you, due to the familiarity that Colonel Phillips knows you, and that Grandpa knew you, you defied Germany and got here because of the Nazi, right?".
Erskine chuckled, "Oh, you truly are quick...That's one reason, yes...I came here because of your grandfather, and I intend to honor his last wish. He was quite persuasive that Atlantis is real, and that the Journal in your hands is the genuine thing. Do you truly believe that we can find a way to Atlantis?".
Milo nodded, "Yes. With all I truly believe in my soul, I know Atlantis is real, and if we can't convince the President, I'll strike it out on my own, even if I have to rent a rowboat.", proclaiming strongly.
Erskine laughed heartily, smiling, glancing at Preston, "Did you hear that, Herr Whitmore? He truly sounded like Thaddeus, bless his soul!", and Preston nodded, "I did, doctor. And Milo, that's exactly why we're here. If we compare our notes of your grandfather's copies and such, we will surely convince the President to loan us an entire squadron or two for the expedition!", with a grin.
"Easier said than done...", Phillips walked up. "Apologies; Erskine's mentioned me this whole Atlantis thing just today and what is probably going to be discussed. But I'm not so sure about what support we might get. The navy's probably going to want to horde every ship it can have; the Japs are absolutely devastating us in the Pacific. They're practically everywhere and all our forces are falling. Hong Kong, Guam, Wake, the Philippines might not hold for much longer, Singapore under threat... what the Germans accomplished in Europe, the Japanese have their own blitzkrieg in the Pacific.", he sighed.
"If we have to do it with our own little project alone...", Preston said. "Then so be it.". Milo replied, "We'd need geologists, engineers, an entire crew...", and Preston smiled, "Got that mostly handled, Milo. After all, I'm a multi-millionaire, aren't I?".
Erskine exhaled, "We just need time to train everyone in the squadrons and such for the submersible. Now, come sit, Mr. Thatch, we have some minutes to compare the notes, and make this presentation the best for President Herr Roosevelt.", with a reassuring smile.
Milo whispered, "This is actually real...", glancing at the Shepherd's Journal, and took a deep breath, nodding, realizing that he can keep on following his grandfather's dream, "Let's do this.", sitting down and went to compare the logistics, the notes, everything of clues Milo can pick up little by little as it's his first time reading the Journal, between all three of them, with a bit of input from Phillips here and there.
Finally, at noon, the group was finally let into the Oval Office; most of the furniture had been moved, replaced with a large conference table where two men were already sitting. Stimson was also sitting near the end before he motioned the four gentlemen that walked in to take their seats.
"Gentlemen... first of all, I'd like you to introduce you to Mr. Buckner and Mr. McCarthy.", Stimson began. "They're part of our military intelligence; and that's all you'll be allowed to know for the time being. We know your loyalties and have deemed you all as trustworthy enough to know what is to be said; but believe me when I say that what is said today stays in this room.". Everyone nodded as Stimson stood up and walked over to a door before knocking, "You can come in, sir.".
Everyone stood up as they rightful guessed who he was talking to before the door opened. Milo was a bit surprised with what he saw. Two people entered the room; one was a somewhat younger man, but he was only pushing a wheelchair for the man that made everyone stand up: President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Milo had heard the rumors that the Polio that Roosevelt had suffered from was much more serious than he led on, but now, he could truly see the effect. The President had done a very good job at hiding his disability for all these years of public service. The younger man rolled Roosevelt to the head of the table before he tapped on the man's hand.
"Thank you, George. That'll be all.", the man nodded before he left the room. "Gentleman, thank you all for coming, especially at such short notice.", Roosevelt said. "The press is unaware of this, but Winston Churchill and other high ranking British officers are here in Washington right now for a war conference we're calling ARCADIA. Our first true allied conference since we've now joined this war. Hence why we're going to have to rush this meeting a bit, I'm afraid.", Roosevelt then glanced over to Stimson. "Henry, if you'll please.".
"Thank you, sir.", Stimson sat down with the others following suit. "Gentleman, since we're in a bit of a rush, we'll get right to the point. It appears that your pre-war hobbies have become actual military policy for the Nazis.".
"How so?", Erskine raised an eyebrow as Stimson motioned over to one of the agents. "The other day; one of our intelligence services in Europe intercepted a secret German diplomatic cable from Ambassador Oswald von Hoyningen-Huene in Lisbon to von Ribbentrop in Berlin.", Mr. McCarthy explained.
"See, ever since they took power in 1933-", Buckner clearly didn't want to beat around the bush as McCarthy seemed to be. The man seemed much more direct, "- the Nazis have been sending teams of archologists and historians around the globe looking for God knows what. All for the propaganda about the superiority of the Aryan race and trying to connect all the greatest human achievements through history to these ancient Aryan supermen. Hitler and some of his closest confidants like Himmler are nuts about the whole thing. They're crazy about it; obsessed really with the Occult. And it seems like your activities are something they have their eyes on right now.".
"We've got this message, and we hoped you can make sense of it at least.", McCarthy cleared his throat. "'Atlantis project in jeopardy. Lost city may be found by Americans. Report from Iceland; Thatch, Thaddeus may have discovered map in before war. Recovery by our American agents should be top priority to track down who the deceased may have left the clues with .'", McCarthy finished reading.
Erskine's heart pounded at the thought of Nazi agents here in America...It would explain why Thaddeus felt so watched the previous year, the violation of privacy leading to who knows what would have happened to Thaddeus if not for Preston and himself who worked on Thaddeus' fake death, and of course, the close call when he himself saved Thaddeus from that gasoline storage shed near the train station. It was a miracle that Thaddeus ended up with scrapes and a few scratches here and there.