Chapter 3

The Honorable President, Truman.

The grand conference room in the heart of the White House buzzed with tension as the members of the National Security Council settled into their seats. At the head of the table, President Truman exuded an air of quiet authority, while his Vice President, leaned forward with a grave expression. Seated beside them were the most powerful figures in intelligence and defense, including the Director of the National Security Agency, the Chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the heads of the Central Intelligence Agency, the Army, the Air Force, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Allen Dulles, the distinguished Director of the CIA, rose to his feet. Tall and regal, his silver hair and steely eyes commanded attention. His voice resonated with a refined accent, befitting a man of aristocratic heritage.

"Gentlemen," Dulles began, his tone measured yet authoritative, "I come before you today to address a threat that goes beyond what we have ever encountered. Gellert Grindelwald, a dark wizard of immense power, manipulated the Third Reich and plunged the world into the horrors of the Second World War."

Gasps filled the room as Dulles painted a vivid picture of Grindelwald's insidious machinations. He explained how the nefarious wizard used arcane magic to influence Hitler, pushing him to launch aggressive wars of expansion that served as a smokescreen for his true agendas. Dulles emphasized that Grindelwald sought to weaken non-magical industrial powers, foreseeing the doom of the wizarding world in an increasingly industrialized society.

"And now," Dulles continued, his voice tinged with concern, "even after the defeat of their master, Grindelwald's followers continue to haunt us. Just weeks ago, a terror attack orchestrated by his remnants claimed the lives of hundreds of innocent civilians and wizards alike. They effortlessly erased the memories of witnesses to cover their tracks."

The room fell into stunned silence as the weight of the revelation settled upon them. Shock and disgust filled the faces of the council members. The Chief of the Army, General James Caldwell, spoke up, his voice laced with bitterness, "So many lives sacrificed for the ego of a few mutant wizards."

His sentiment found an echo with the Air Force General and the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who nodded in agreement. Vice President Sullivan, a man known for his deep philosophical pondering, leaned forward and spoke, his voice filled with a mix of worry and contemplation, "This reminds me of a historical account I once read. In 1545, during the Roman Inquisition, a mere dozen wizards butchered and humiliated thousands of knights. It is a humbling reminder of how vulnerable and mundane we are at the mercy of these abominations."

Amidst the somber atmosphere, President Truman remained stoic, his eyes fixed on each member of the council. When the room had settled into a tense silence, he spoke with calm determination, "We must not allow ourselves to be paralyzed by fear or disbelief. We must face this threat head-on. I hereby institute a study group, comprising the best minds from intelligence, defense, and diplomacy, to draft a comprehensive defense plan against wizards."

A sense of purpose filled the room as the council members realized the gravity of the situation. They nodded in agreement, their determination mirrored in their eyes. President Truman's unwavering resolve ignited a collective spirit of defiance, as they prepared to confront the magical menace that threatened their world.

A few hours later

Once again, generals stood before the resolute desk in the Oval Office. The room was hushed, the air thick with tension as they prepared to report to President Harry S. Truman about the enigmatic Roswell incident. President Truman sat behind the desk; his eyes focused on the two military leaders. He exuded an air of calm authority, his demeanor projecting a sense of steady resolve. As the generals began their report, he listened intently, his face betraying a mix of curiosity and concern.

General Adams cleared his throat and began, "Mr. President, we have reason to believe that the crash near Roswell was not a conventional aircraft. The wreckage exhibits advanced technology far beyond our current capabilities. Our initial investigation points to the possibility of extraterrestrial origin."

He continued, "We've secured the crash site and initiated a thorough investigation. But there's more, Mr. President. We've been receiving reports from the CIA and the FBI about supernatural activities. These acts of supernatural terrorism are resulting in the loss of innocent lives. As reported earlier by Mr. Dulles"

President Truman's brow furrowed; his worry evident. "We did reach an accord with the other side's "minister". I am assuming it didn't help"

The generals exchanged glances, understanding the President's line of thought.

General Adams spoke up, his tone sycophantic, "Indeed, Mr. President. We believe that it's time to take decisive action. With our atomic bombs, advanced rifles, and jets, we are finally on par with the mages. It's high time we declare war on them and put an end to these threats."

Truman's expression hardened, and he held up a hand, silencing the generals. "Gentlemen, your enthusiasm for combat is noted, but declaring war on mages would only escalate the situation. We cannot afford to unleash chaos without a proper understanding of their abilities and motives."

He leaned forward, looking each general in the eye. "I want you to coordinate with the premiers of France, the United Kingdom, Japan, and our other NATO allies. I want detailed scenarios and a feasibility study on potential battles with mages. We need a comprehensive strategy before we take any further action."

The generals, momentarily taken aback by the President's dismissal of their proposed war, nodded dutifully and exited the Oval Office. As the door closed behind them, Allen Dulles, the President's intelligence chief, walked in, greeting Truman warmly. The two men had known each other for years, their friendship forged in the fires of political challenges. They shared a quick smile, a respite from the gravity of the situation.

Truman chuckled softly, breaking the nervous ice. "Allen, those generals are as subtle as a pack of gorillas, aren't they? To quote a grey head, the thing about war is, you can't leave it all to the generals."

Dulles grinned, his eyes crinkling. "They may lack finesse, Mr. President, but they make up for it in their unwavering determination."

The President's expression grew serious once more as he turned to Dulles. "tell me, Allen, what is the status of the crashed UFO? Can we learn from it?"

Dulles leaned closer, his voice low. "Mr. President, we have a unique opportunity here. I recommend establishing a series of black funds through corporate America. These funds will ensure the necessary resources for research and development, allowing us to reverse engineer the UFO's technology."

Truman nodded, his gaze steady. "We need to protect our national interest, Allen. It's no longer enough for us to be mere peers of witches and wizards. We must overwhelm them with superior technology. We have a chance to level the playing field."

Dulles mirrored Truman's nod, his eyes gleaming with shared determination. "I couldn't agree more, Mr. President. With the creation of Majestic 12, a secret society comprised of America's brightest minds working in concert with our NATO allies, we can harness the power of this UFO technology and win the war against the mages."

Truman's expression hardened once again as he gave the order, "Make it happen, Allen. Our nation's nay our species' future may depend on it."

And so, a clandestine alliance was forged, born from the collision of extraterrestrial technology and the world of supernatural threats. In the shadows, Majestic 12 would rise, their covert efforts aimed at unraveling the mysteries of the Roswell incident and preparing a defense against the looming supernatural menace.