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June 20th, 1904

The White House, Washington, D.C.

900 Hours

A middle-aged woman from the communications office entered the war room where President Roosevelt and several men in varying suits and uniforms pored over maps and charts.

"Telegram, Mr. President."

"Bully! Where is it from?"

"Portsmouth Shipyard, sir."

Roosevelt snatched the telegram from the operator's hand and began to scan it. Since assuming office, he had ordered that all telegrams related to the war be sent directly to the White House. Roosevelt finished reading the telegram and sighed deeply. He placed it down on the large oak table and slammed his fist down. Everyone in the room nearly jumped.

"What is it, sir?" One man asked.

"I'll tell you what it is," Roosevelt shouted, "four warships destroyed by a saboteur in Portsmouth, presumably the same saboteur who hit the Georgia just yesterday! Why the hell does this keep happening?!"

"Sir, what should we do?"

Roosevelt sunk into his chair, his head in his hands.

"I don't know, I feel that all is lost."

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