Duck and Cover! An American Spinoff of Protect and Survive.

Good job on this timeline, Gen_Patton!
I have a few questions based on reading this and the other P&S related US threads. My apologies if these questions have already been asked and answered.
What, in your opinion, would be the plight of foreign nationals trapped in the US as a result of the strikes?
Would these people be denied aid because they were foreigners, or would the evaluation of particular skills play a bigger role in determining what kind of aid (if any) an individual receives?
 
Good job on this timeline, Gen_Patton!
I have a few questions based on reading this and the other P&S related US threads. My apologies if these questions have already been asked and answered.
What, in your opinion, would be the plight of foreign nationals trapped in the US as a result of the strikes?
Would these people be denied aid because they were foreigners, or would the evaluation of particular skills play a bigger role in determining what kind of aid (if any) an individual receives?


I believe foreign nationals will be treated better in America than anywhere else in the rest of the world. America is of course an uniquely immigrant culture, and I believe that even after a nuclear war, any foreigners left (who would be outside of a major city, wouldn't most tourists be trapped in places like NYC or DC or fleeing home like everyone else?) would probably be treated the same as any other refugee. You work, you eat. You have skills, you get treated better.

Sure there will be reports of violence against foreigners, and many will find living here hard, especially if they don't speak English very well. However, other countries will probably treat foreigners horridly I believe there is mentions of massacres somewhere, however I sincerely hope that America still believes in the "poor, huddled masses" that made it great in the first place.
 
20 - 25% surviving population?

Ca. 240 million Americans, 20% of that would mean something around 48 million. My feeling is that we have to go below that, though not dramatically. And there would be drastic differences depending on the region. The whole demographic balance of the US will be tilted. I am very curious once Patton comes to the 1990 census. ;-)

I have done a calculation for Germany, Bundesland by Bundesland, which ends up with a 94.5% population loss. And it is still very optimistic.


And that heavily skewed towards younger people (10 - 30yrs). Overly optimistic?

That would set the scene for a population boom towards the end of the decade, once the immediate job of survival has been secured.

Falkenburg

10-30 years, I am not sure. That would mean that mainly people die over-proportionally who were only older than their mid-20s during the war.

I would rather say that at this point X we would have a population pattern ... I refer here to these graphics...





http://de.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Datei:Grundformen_Altersstruktur.svg&filetimestamp=20100128115458

...which is rather similar to type E, but it contracts more sharply at the upper and lower ends.

(I assume that the pre-exchange pattern for NATO countries would be somewhere between C and D.)

But I think that you are right about a population boom once young people either a) get the idea that they have the ressources to do exactly that or b) "they drink and dance and screw, because there's nothing else to do" - and have no way to take precaution.



I changed the figure to be more realistic. As for population growth after the strikes, I truly have no idea. Though 1990 sounds reasonable if a bit conservative.

Ah, I see the clarification. Sounds really more realistic, but terrible nevertheless.

Conservative to which side?

I believe foreign nationals will be treated better in America than anywhere else in the rest of the world.

I think it highly depends where the national comes from, how many are there... and where they find themselves. I put the finger here on the situation on the Mexican border, or the xenophobes in Berserk mode in Georgia.

But I also believe, that a trapped tourist, just like the Iranian couple in the Wolves-spin off, wouldn't be harassed as long as he is in a place where there is some reason left.

Concerning my fatherland:

I doubt that German refugees would find a lot of warm welcome wherever they went in Western Europe (I guess that a few would have made it to France and Spain pre-exchange) as people would feel there would be too many of them (in such scenarios, even a dozen can be "many"). Besides, there would still be the old resentments from WW2, easy to tap into.

On Germany itself.... not that it would matter, but in such a scenario with a long buildup to war, I would have expected quite an exodus of the "Gastarbeiter" population out off Germany to a homeland they would probably perceive to be safer.

 
When it comes to population loss due to this war you have to go back centuries to see anything similar.Both world wars despite their horrific consequences had death rates due to war for most participants anyway below 6% of the population.A few notable exceptions like Serbia in WWI or Russia and Poland in WWII don't change the fact that most lost as a proportion of the population only a few percentage points.It might not be good but these are the kind of losses that can be sustained.Historically you have to go back to before the 1870's for loss rates exceeding 20% like Paraguay in the Triple Alliance war over 50%.In Europe such losses probably where not seen since before 1720 with places like Poland,Germany,Ireland,Hungary which where devastated due to the wars of the time and had losses which reached or exceeded 20%,it seems central Poland had 50% death rates due to war related causes in the so-called Deluge.So you really have to go back to a completely different era to have these kind of loss rates in the 20th century I don't think there was a single country which lost over 20% of the population due to war,Poland might have been the closest in WWII with around 17%.
 
I believe foreign nationals will be treated better in America than anywhere else in the rest of the world. America is of course an uniquely immigrant culture, and I believe that even after a nuclear war, any foreigners left (who would be outside of a major city, wouldn't most tourists be trapped in places like NYC or DC or fleeing home like everyone else?) would probably be treated the same as any other refugee. You work, you eat. You have skills, you get treated better.

Sure there will be reports of violence against foreigners, and many will find living here hard, especially if they don't speak English very well. However, other countries will probably treat foreigners horridly I believe there is mentions of massacres somewhere, however I sincerely hope that America still believes in the "poor, huddled masses" that made it great in the first place.

That's a fair point. I wasn't thinking of tourists necessarily; outside of some places in the South and some ski resorts is there much of a tourist industry in the US during the winter? But I would imagine that there would be plenty of college students, and foreign business people, still in the US during this period.
I think hornla may be right- their treatment may in large part be influenced by where in the US they were trapped.
 
That's a fair point. I wasn't thinking of tourists necessarily; outside of some places in the South and some ski resorts is there much of a tourist industry in the US during the winter?

Is there much of a winter tourist industry during the winter? :eek:
Yes there is!
From Florida to California to the Rocky Mountains & Great Lakes, not to mention from Maine to Florida, plus Hawaii & Alaska too. The month of February however is not historically a big month for winter tourism (aside from college & High School kids on spring break) and this will be especially true in TTL's February of 1984.
 
Is there much of a winter tourist industry during the winter? :eek:
Yes there is!
From Florida to California to the Rocky Mountains & Great Lakes, not to mention from Maine to Florida, plus Hawaii & Alaska too. The month of February however is not historically a big month for winter tourism (aside from college & High School kids on spring break) and this will be especially true in TTL's February of 1984.
Thanks for the clarification!
I grew up in a beach town; after Labor Day we didn't see many tourists till Spring rolled around again. That's why I had to ask...
 
Update!

[FONT=&quot]Part V: There Will Come Soft Rains[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]OPERATION PROSPERO: REDUX [2]

[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Pilot had gotten over his hangover well enough as the day wore on. At least it improved enough for him to land the unfamiliar Learjet smoothly at the Tennessee airport. The Navigator was confused, the Sergeant had told them that the American Government was based out of Georgia not Tennessee. They slowly pulled in for a landing. Tennessee? Something here wasn’t right.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator only got more confused after they taxied the plane in and slowly pulled to a stop. Dropping the door and after walking on to the tarmac he finally realized something. The airport was deserted. The Commando and the Pilot came out of the tower. The tower was empty. No lights were on. Night was falling and the runway lights were still off. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Well” said the Doctor “What’s the next move?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando flipped the safety on his gun. “I don’t like it here. Something is up. Grab the bags we’re heading to the nearest town. Georgia is to the south right?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator nodded “It’s to the south.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando pulled out a compass “We’re going south.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Scientist scrambled out of the Learjet with a weary but proud grin on his face. A flag pole with the UK flag hung limply from a dowel. “I think this ought to let the Americans know who we are. They might not recognize our uniforms, sir.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]* “Because we can’t have a panic. You don’t understand. What if all of a sudden these soldiers wearing uniforms you don’t recognize all of a sudden fly in with a plane and you don’t recognize them. And you’re in the middle of a battle. What if we lose the next battle? We can’t have the Brits landing here just to have those Nazi bastards kill them on sight.” The Secretary sighed. The Farmer was not understanding his point. It was to protect the Brits. That’s all.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer pulled the truck down the road. Why in the hell did the Secretary have the Brits land in Tennessee? It didn’t make sense. There was a perfectly good runway in Rome. And they didn’t win the battle. If the reports were to be believed the Nazis had run into the swamps. Good riddance too, they would probably die from some nasty diseases out there. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]He flicked on the headlights. The sun was slowly setting off to his left. He glanced quickly at the map sitting on the passenger’s seat. He would be coming up on the airport any minute now.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Like a specter out of the darkness came trotting a figure carrying a Union Jack. Well I guess that these are the guys. Slowly a team of four figures, one carrying an assault rifle fanned out in front of the pickup. The Farmer pulled to a stop and put the car in park. The headlights harshly glinted off of the gasmasks the British were wearing.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Howdy!” he shouted. “Welcome to America.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Hello Yank.” The man with the assault rifle said. “I’m the Commando. You from Rome.” [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer laughed. “Yeah I am from Rome. Y’all are the Brits I assume.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“That’s right.” The figure holding the Union Jack said. “We’ve come all this way to visit Disneyland. Is it still open?”[/FONT]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[FONT=&quot]They were rattling back south toward Georgia. The Farmer put in a cassette tape. “You like country music, uh Navigator right? So do you like country music?” [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Brit pulled off his gas mask. “I’ve never really heard American “Country” music. Is it good?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer smiled “You will love this one.” Popping a cassette in the tape player the Farmer began to concentrate again on the road.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]They had driven in the dark for nearly another hour. The Farmer was starting to get annoyed with the cassette player, the stupid thing wasn’t working as well as it used to since the Attack. Every time they hit a bump in the back roads the stupid thing would skip.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]But it was safer to use the back roads. Highways were clogged by abandoned cars and ad hoc bandit camps. It was best to leave those roads alone.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]He was surprised to see a road block up ahead. A few figures dressed in American fatigues stood next to a jeep. It hadn’t been there when he drove up earlier that day. Unless he was lost. Damn that would be embarrassing.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]A warning shot cracked out. Dear god. Who in the fuck do these kids think they are.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]He pulled up and rolled down the window. One of the soldiers, wearing a tracksuit, approached the car.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“This is as far as you go buddy” the Tracksuit soldier snarled.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer balked but hid it behind an easy smile. The kid was probably new. “Hey, son, were just trying to get to Rome. I’ve got some VIP’s to see the Boss.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Not this way you don't; besides, you know the rules about burnin' fuel - you're gonna have to hand over your pickup, mister.” Tracksuit waved his hand. The rest of the soldiers walked up behind him. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Wait a second boys,” the Farmer smiled “what outfit you with?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Tracksuit smiled a cruel smile “Vermont Air National Guard.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]What the fuck, fucking Vermont? There were stories of troops being used in different states. The last battle had some Kentuckians in it, but fucking Vermont. Bull shit.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Tracksuit noticed the Union Jack flapping off the back of the truck.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Whad’a we have here? Britishers.” He switched into a mock British accent. “Going have to take your gun as well, fella - and these boys are with us now; can't be leaving foreign combatants in the hands of civilians. Would you gentlemen care to come wit' us?” The last question was directed at the back of the pickup. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Someone scrambled out of the back of the truck. The Commando swung his rifle up “You’ve got thirty seconds cunt!” he hissed.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Tracksuit turned around and laughed. The rest of the “soldiers” chime in.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer swung his pistol off of his holster. Centered on Tracsuits fucking head. Point blank. Pop! Pop! Pop![/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando opens up with a burst, two more go down. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]A “soldier” took aim at the Farmer.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Farmer was trying to reload.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator leaned across the driver’s seat and fired through the open window. Crack! Crack! The fourth and final “soldier” fell to the ground.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando and the Farmer scrambled back into the car. “National Guard my ass.” The Farmer muttered. “C'mon boys, we've made quite a ruckus” and pulled off into the night.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]After another couple of hours of driving they pull up to what appears to be a boarding school next to a lake. The Farmer gets out and motions the Prospero team to follow him. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator was in awe. The building was pristine. He was ashamed to be found here in his dirty uniform. Two soldiers with eyes locked and red berets stand guard by the front doors, American paratroopers, real soldiers. They are led inside and up a carpeted flight of steps leaving muddy footprints behind. They approach a pair of Mahogany doors. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The second pair of American paratroopers opens the doors to let them in. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]There's a man in a clean suit, sitting at a tidy desk. His hair's perfect. He stands up and offers a warm grin.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Now, Gentlemen, I have a feeling it's been a long trip, and I believe you want some answers.”[/FONT]
 
Last edited:
And here we go! Magnificent TL, strange how I have a section about Norwegian, Dutch, and Canadian troops, and just now I see the post about foriegn nationals.
 
Update!

[FONT=&quot]Part VI: There Will Come Soft Rains[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]OPERATION PROSPERO: REDUX [3][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]THE END[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Secretary had let the Prospero Team leave after only a few minutes of small talk. They hadn’t slept now for nearly two days and tensions, especially between the Pilot and the Commando, were especially running high. The Navigator and the Scientist were the last to leave the room. The Secretary wanted to talk to them alone.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary waved the Navigator and the Scientist back into the room. “Did you have a plan of what to do after you actually got here?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Scientist pulled a faded notebook out of his fatigues jacket and began. “Sir, we did not have anything well thought out. We didn’t know what to expect when we got here so we planned to improvise.” He cracked a wry grin. “Sir, I think we’ve been doing a good job so far at making it up as we go along. I copied the briefing notes in this notebook, sir, and if you want a look, here. The notes are on the first couple of pages.”The Scientist passed a notebook across the desk. The Secretary scanned the first couple of pages then handed it back to the Scientist.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Scientist continued “Our job was to collect data on the state of America and make contact with whomever we could. Then get home sir. We’ve completed the first task therefore our job now is to get home and report to CHANTICLEER what the situation is here.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary folded his hands in front of his face and after a pause proffered a proposition. Looking at the Navigator he offered “What if I said you could meet Ronald Reagan?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator balked “Well I’d take the offer. Sir, are you actually saying that your President is actually alive? We’ve heard a rumor but are you being serious, sir?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary nodded “I am dead serious, Ronald Reagan is alive but from what we can tell, not in especially good health. However, I believe that a delegation from the UK may be at the worst an emotional boost for President Reagan. I think he would be as grateful as I am to find that our allies aren’t just out there, but seriously care about us.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary looked over at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner. It was 2:43 am. “Perhaps we can talk tomorrow? You boys have had a long day.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Scientist wearily got up from his chair and shook the Secretary’s hand. “Thank you sir, we will talk more tomorrow.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Navigator saluted “Sir, we will speak more tomorrow.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary returned the smile and gave the Farmer, quietly watching the whole time, a glance. The Farmer showed the Prospero Team out the door, down the hall to their rooms.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The morning light dimly illuminated the room. The windows curtains were left wide open and the Navigator slowly rolled out of the bed after an amazing nights sleep. Glancing out the window he could see the small lake reflecting the permanently grey sky. A small flock of crows were making their way south. Strange, he thought, it’s supposed to be spring. Rolling his bare feet in the carpet he slowly donned his (freshly washed) uniform and made his out of the door and down the hall. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]He bumped into the Doctor, and together they made their way into a kitchen. Seated there was the Scientist, Secretary, and the Farmer who were just filling the Pilot and Commando in on their last night’s meeting.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary was talking “We're almost certain that the President made it to Colorado, a small town called Columbine.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]A heavy silence blanketed the room.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Secretary looks gravely at the men seated around the table and continued “Now, I cannot order you to go, you are not American soldiers, but I can furnish you with the equipment and transportation to get there. I’m just as curious as you to find out how the President is doing, and with…” he pauses for a second “other things occupying my troops at this time, I can’t afford to send any of my own. And you’d probably be ten times better than my own troops, seeing how well you’ve done so far. My question is, are you willing?”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot] There's a pause and then the Pilot downs a shot of whiskey (at breakfast with the kind of President of the United States no less!) and slurs “We'll do it.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando flashed an angry look “Why should we? We've done our job, let's get home right now. You’ve already killed a man on this mission, and I can! Not! Afford! To! Lose! Any! More!”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“We have a job to do, and we're going to bloody do it!” the Pilot started out quiet and grows to shouting and staggering upright.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“You could at least put it to a vote!” the Commando matched the Pilot's volume effortlessly.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]"‘In case you’ve forgotten” the Pilot jabbed a finger into the Commando’s chest, full view of everyone “I’m the ranking officer here, and if the Secretary here can’t order you, then I certainly fucking can and that goes for the rest of you too!”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando stormed out. No one got up to follow him.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Doctor rose and walked right up to the Pilot. “As a civilian observer I will not fucking go! I’d rather get home right now thank you!” [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Pilot angrily shouted back “Bloody hell I can’t! You’re coming I cannot be accountable for you anywhere else!”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Embarrassed as hell, the Navigator and the Scientist intervene. Grabbing the Doctor, the Scientist takes him off to a corner and they begin talking, formulating a plan. The Navigator pulls the Pilot aside.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“God Damn It, sir! Acting like this in front of the President as a representative of Her Majesties Air Force and the United Kingdom, don’t you feel a bit ashamed!” The Navigator whispered.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“No! and you will follow me as I am your fucking ranking officer!” the Pilot hissed back.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]After a few minutes of intense debating, it was eventually decided that the Doctor and the Scientist were going to Cleveland where they would use the remaining communications systems to gather and compile as much data as they could for the return to Britain. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando, the Pilot, and the Navigator would go to meet the President. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The arrangement left no one happy.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The next day the Scientist and the Doctor packed their bags and with an armed escort got on a flight to Cleveland. They made radio contact later that day. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando, the Pilot and the Navigator spent the next couple of days gathering material for the trip west. By Friday they were ready. The mission would go on.[/FONT]



[FONT=&quot]*The [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Sikorsky [/FONT][FONT=&quot]was puttering low on fuel. The Farmer was worried.

"I don't think we're going to make it."

The Pilot looked him dead in the eye.
[/FONT][FONT=&quot]“I think we can make it."[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Pilot turned to back of the plane “We’re looking around, see if we can find Air Force One.”[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]The Commando shot the Pilot a dirty look. Sitting so close one another for nearly a day did not help their already strained relationship.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]They look around. Nothing. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]

Then finally.

The Navigator shouted out "I think I see something!"

A large mound of wrenched dirt scarred a line right to the Air Force One marring the otherwise beautiful landscape.

The old Sikorsky didn't take the landing too well. Making an awkward crash landing, the Farmer placed the helicopter poorly on the dirt. It shattered. Pieces of the rotor flew apart, the helicopter tilted and dug into the dirt.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Prospero team climbed through the wreck. [/FONT][FONT=&quot]After trudging the nearly half mile to the crash site, they slowly found their way into the wreck.

Now I can't tell the rest of the story well enough on my own. Check out the Original below. Follow the link, you will not be disappointed.


[/FONT]
Operation Prospero [10]

They could kid themselves looking at it from the outside, but fuselage tells a different tale.

No. No. No.

They search every body; far too long has passed now to identify them, so they search jackets and trousers for whatever will help them out - it is dirty work.

No use. Mission failed.

For ages, the whole crew sit in silence and just listen to the rain hammer at the plane's metal skin. What can they say? Still, they can't stay like this forever. 'Boys...' the American sighs, 'I'm so sorry'. The Pilot looks down and looks up again - 'It's not your fault...it can't be...it's not your fault'.

The Commando smiles.

He moves across what was once the aisle to the American and goes to pat him on the shoulder - 'He's right, it's not your fault'.

Well, maybe things are going to turn out okay.

'But you're going to fucking pay for it!' - the Commando snarls with a voice of glass as he grabs the American by the neck and holds him like a shield.

The American reaches for his revolver and the Commando shoots his hand off.

'None of this John Wayne shit anymore you fucking prick! You knew they were all dead, you fucking knew it. So why the FUCK are we out here!?'

'Let's all stay calm no-' manages the Scientist before the Commando puts one through his brain.

'And YOU!', he waves the his gun at the Pilot - 'you're fucking loving it! Kill my mate, become king of your own fucking America. Well I'm in command now! How many was it?' - louder - 'How many was it!?'

'How many was what?!' screams the Pilot

'Leningrad! Tell me how many or I'll kill the fucking yank!

'What?'

'Now!'

'F-five..hun..h..half a million' the Pilot stutters - 'we planned for half a million'

'You piece of shit! All those women and children weren't enough for you were they? You got the taste but now you've gotta see it close up! To kill all of us! To kill me!'

There are tears in the Pilot's eyes 'we had orders...then and now...I was following orders'. He looks the Commando dead in the eyes and begs for forgiveness with his own.

It buys him time to draw his sidearm.

'Brilliant! Ha! Fantastic' laughs the Commando, the hollow cackle of the truly humourless 'he's got a gun! What a fucking adventure - 'Biggles Saves The World' - nice try - it was you who ended it!'

Dead calm, the pilot states - 'If you do not let that man go in the next ten seconds I am going to shoot you.'

'Are you fuck? We've had this before, pal - you can't kill men!'

'-let that man go-'

'-not if they're standing in front of you!-'

'-in the next five seconds-'

'-not when they can fight back!-'

'-I am going to-'

The American mouths 'do it, son'

'You fucking spas-' BANG

BANG


The Pilot screams as he puts two rounds through the American and into the Commando. He falls to the floor almost before they do.

Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain/ And all the children are insane.

When he comes to he's with the Co-Pilot and the Navigator and they're all lying filthy and sodden in the mud.

'What now?'

[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]
 
Last edited:

Falkenburg

Monthly Donor
[FONT=&quot]Part VI: There Will Come Soft Rains[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]OPERATION PROSPERO: REDUX [3][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]THE END[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Navigator was surprised. The Pilot’s crew didn’t drop their bombs?[/FONT]

Does that mean Britain still has serviceable nuclear munitions? There can't be that many of those left at this point.

That could be a dangerously useful tool as the world pulls itself from the wreckage.

Falkenburg
 

Falkenburg

Monthly Donor
Well it's still a very confused time. Conflicting accounts, or garbled information is to be expected. ;)

Falkenburg
 
Sorry about all the confusion surrounding the Prospero Redux stories, I only meant to clarify why the Secretary in P&S was in Rome, NY (Hit by at least one bomb in Don't Mess With The Wolf Pack) and mine was in Rome, Georgia.

-Gen_Patton
 
I dont really like that last part where the navigator talks to the suit. not very well written. nor does it fit in with the pilot's mental state in the original prospero.

However, i do like the way you have sorted out the American side of things. Especially the part where a postman becomes president. Ha.
 
OK so the PROSPERO REDUX stories were a big CF. So from here on out they are NOT CANON I repeat PROSPERO REDUX ARE NOT CANON.

So I will be returning to the main TL:

Comming soon:

The Californian War

The Religious Zelots in Texas

The insurgency in Georgia.

Cleveland will continue to be a place of nightmare fuel.

Sorry for the terrible last few updates:

-Gen_Patton
 
Last edited:
Wither, Prospero...

So where is "Team Prospero"?

Are they in Colorado still. Are they headed back to Britain? Are they trying to get home?...and who is still alive among their team?

If they are heading east. They could've be heading into a place called...Nebraska????

If so..I'd like to write about them.
 
Top