Second Chance

Chapter Thirty-Six: Reagan’s Ghost

Ronald Reagan Airport

Nr Washington DC, USA

19^th September 1940

Ambassador King knew that both the Secret Service and the President’s medical advisor had advised against the trip to Ronald Reagan Airport, which had now been formally dedicated by the actor himself. He thought that having an airport named after him a fine idea, and few people had had the heart to object. Colonel Palter was delighted with the success; Reagan II, as the future Americans thought of it, would have kilometres upon kilometres to expand into, and the Future Embassy held enough land to build a second airport in California. Martin Luther King Airport was under construction, ringing the world in jet airports. When the war began, there would be a second line of airports to Australia.

He nodded politely to Ambassador Quinn, who was staring at the British-built equipment that had been torn from a British airport and transported across the Atlantic under heavy escort; one of the handful of British frigates had even been detailed to escort the American ship. The United States Navy had become more and more involved in the Battle of the Atlantic; losses had been taken and war had been threatened. Hitler, who correctly realised that no submarine would be successful against a modern British ship, chose to concentrate on the older Contemporary ships, including the ones under American control.

”I can’t wait to see this,” Roosevelt said. The large passenger jet, one of a handful of RAF transports, would not be the ‘first’ aircraft to cross the Atlantic by any means, but it would be making the trip with an ease that no Contemporary aircraft could show. King smiled; the President was almost child-like in his enthusiasm. The undeclared war was taking a toll on him, and it was good to relax for a while.

“The aircraft is called a Tristar,” Quinn said. He seemed amused by Roosevelt’s delight. “It’s a personal transport, carrying representatives from the Government and the trading parties. While it isn’t supersonic, it can carry its passengers in relative comfort, and the Germans cannot hope to intercept it.”

“Just as well, young man,” Roosevelt said. He peered into the darkness as one of the ex-USAF men – now discovering that their skills made them far too important to be allowed to fly again – started to operate the air traffic control system. The 1940’s United States possessed considerable private air traffic; King foresaw a considerable trade in compact radar systems.

“United Kingdom One, you are cleared to approach,” the controller said. Roosevelt looked up as the noise of a jet engine split the sky; King found himself wishing that the 2015 administration had seen fit to station some of the F-22s in the United Kingdom. Now they would have been impressive, if the British hadn’t grabbed them for their own air defence.

“Wow,” Roosevelt breathed. The Tristar could be seen dimly in the gloom; flickering lights in the sky. It took on shape and form as it roared down and landed neatly on the runway, the first aircraft to land properly on Reagan Airport. The plane taxied to a stop and a ladder was moved quickly into place as the hatch hissed open. A dark-haired man, Hanover, appeared in the hatch and waved to Roosevelt, before climbing down onto the ground. Roosevelt ignored his doctor’s mutterings and wheeled his wheelchair forward, moving to meet the British Prime Minister. King followed him at a discrete distance, smiling a welcome.

Hanover had wanted to send McLachlan, or one of his deputies, but the meeting was too important to allow a flunky to mess it up. Prime Minister Churchill had developed a close relationship with Roosevelt; it was no exaggeration to say that the future of Britain might depend on his ability to do the same.

He sucked in a breath as he saw Roosevelt. The older President reminded him of his grandfather; twinkling eyes which were fixed more on the aircraft than himself. His wheelchair squeaked as the President wheeled it towards him with the air of a man playing chicken.

“I’ve read a lot about you,” he said, knowing that there was a lump in his throat. He shook Roosevelt’s hand firmly; the President’s grip was strong and firm. “It’s a honour to meet you at last.”

“It’s a honour to meet you as well,” Roosevelt said. “I had quite a good rapport with Mr Churchill, who I understand is long dead in your time, and I look forward to carrying it on with you.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Hanover said. He shook hands with Ambassador King, noting with some relief that the black man had survived 1940s America. “I can’t wait to hear about everything that has happened here.”

He knew that he was babbling, his awe at meeting a modern legend pushing him forward, but Roosevelt didn’t seem to mind. “Right this way, then,” the President said. “We have a room set up for you and the party right here.”

“Excellent,” Hanover said, watching with some awe as Roosevelt propelled himself – waving away the offer of one of his guards to push him – across the field and into a large building. “You’ve accomplished a lot here,” he said to King, who smiled. “I’m quite impressed.”

“Labour is cheap in the depression,” King said. “The only problem was making it suitable for jumbo jets, so we thought we might as well start preparing for the 1980s at once. As you know, there were problems with improving the original airports around Washington; you could launch a stealth bomber from here if you had to. The airport will one day be capable of handing thousands of people per day.”

“It still seems amazing that people will want to travel in such numbers,” Roosevelt said. The President seemed amused by the concept. “Even now, we don’t have lots of people using the airlines, not when there are ships and trains.”

“The pace of modern life is faster,” Hanover said. “Even terrorists couldn’t distract from that, you see.”

“So I heard,” Roosevelt said. “We supported a bunch of barbarians for years?”

Hanover shrugged. “You didn’t, Mr President,” he said. “You have the opportunity to correct all the old mistakes.”

“And doubtless make new ones,” Roosevelt said. “There are parts of the country that are torn apart by racial struggles, you know.”

Hanover, who hadn’t, nodded. “It’s dangerous,” he said. “In Germany and we assume Russia, all those who spoke for sanity have been wiped out. In America, I assume that the Ku Klux Klan is striking at black leaders?”

“And vice versa,” King said. “It’s getting unpleasant.”

Roosevelt waved them all to seats and waited while a black orderly, who winked at King, poured them drinks. “You’ve opened quite a can of worms for us,” Roosevelt said. Hanover nodded. “You’d think that knowing the future would make people more reasonable, instead we have anti-Japanese riots and anti-Black riots… there are even people who think that you’re trying to rebuild your empire.”

Hanover shook his head, sipping the cup of coffee. “We have no interest in rebuilding it,” he said. “We are attempting to cushion the fall as much as possible by using our knowledge to enable democratic rule first, and trading networks that will jump development forward fifty years.”

Roosevelt shrugged. “With yourselves in charge,” he said.

“It won’t last,” Hanover said. “We have to deal fairly with everyone; under growth trends India and Africa will become more powerful than us after ten years or so. All we can do is offer them the chance to develop; they’ll become your trading partners as well, which is more than they will become if Japan wins the war.”

“Ah, the war,” Roosevelt said. “And Russia is pushing into Iran and Finland. There’s quite a lot of anger about Finland, but you did nothing to help them.”

Hanover scowled. “Neither did you,” he said. “Like it or not, you are threatened in this war.”

“I know that,” Roosevelt said calmly. “Unfortunately, my opponent, Wilkie, is pushing for isolation, claiming that the only way to avoid permanent military deployment is to remain isolated and deal with our own problems. It’s hard to say which way the vote will go, with some of my support bleeding off to Wallace and his third party.”

Hanover considered. “I’ll be honest,” he said. “We need your help.”

“You’ve already begun propaganda here,” Roosevelt said. “The ethnic votes are very keen on it, even the German voters.”

“I was hoping to recruit some of them for a legion under Rommel,” Hanover said. “We were planning to start hitting German morale with broadcasts, once we had everything ready.”

“Interesting thought,” King injected. “I assume that you can blast the message through German jamming.”

Hanover nodded. “The problem is that Ambassador Yurina Sako, the Japanese ambassador of 2015, has clearly failed to convince the Japanese of the futility of challenging the world. They’re moving, Mr President, and you’re on their target list.”

“I have always been worried about Japanese expansion,” Roosevelt said. “Unfortunately, not all of us are keen on becoming involved in your war.”

“It’ll be your war soon enough,” Hanover said, as calmly as he could. “What do you want?”

“You are holding a number of future Americans prisoner,” Roosevelt said. “We want them back to assist our technical development.”

Hanover shrugged. “Not all of them want to return,” he said. “Some of them… feel that you offer nothing for men and women of their skin colour.”

“But you are holding some of the men from Feltwell and other places,” King said. “Mr Prime Minister, you must understand that the men who ordered them to spy for commercial advantage are lost in the future.”

“Under international law, they can be charged with espionage,” Hanover said. “We’ll trade; you can have them back the day before the election.”

Roosevelt smiled. “I’ll send a battleship to pick them up,” he said. “The new Atlantic Fleet needs the practice.”

Hanover shrugged. “In exchange, we want you to allow us to recruit in America without hindrance.”

“We already did that,” Roosevelt said. He chuckled deeply. “Listen to us haggling like fishwives; we do have shared interests. If you send them back, I will win the election with Truman as my Vice President.”

“I would have thought that Ambassador King would be interested in the post,” Hanover said. “You were mentioned as a possible candidate for President in… ah, 2020?”

“Yes, but be serious,” King said. “A black man, in 1940? It would unite a lot of people against us.”

“I suppose,” Hanover said. “Tell me; what changes have you made in your technology now?”

Colonel Palter entered the room as soon as he was called; he’d expected the call from Ambassador King. Ordered to give a briefing, he’d worked hard to gather the information, even if old habits made it hard for him to just give the information away.

“The… ah, established interests haven’t proven too keen on us,” Palter said wryly. “I’ve been running around, up and down, dragging information out of my mind, only to see it ignored or discarded. I’d get mad, if I got mad.”

“Don’t get mad, get even,” King said wryly.

“True, sir,” Palter said, giving the Ambassador more respect than he really deserved, in the hope that Roosevelt and the other Contemporaries would realise that he deserved it. “For the moment, the greatest improvements are in the defences of Pearl Harbour and the Philippines, but that’s as far as they go. Some of the Army Air Force – grief, I miss the Air Force – Generals want to move directly onto jet fighters, while the Navy wants to simply copy the Hellcat and the other designs from 1943 and the Pacific War. Both parties are arguing, and as long as they’re arguing they won’t come to a decision. Sadly, the Navy still wants its battleships, and they won’t move over completely to carriers and submarines. Please… don’t ask about the torpedo designs…

“The army, at least, is delighted with the Firefly design, the problem is in building enough to be useful when not all of the generals are convinced that war with Germany is inevitable. In the meantime, they’re trying to build up, which isn’t easy in the current political climate.”

“At least the opposition supports high military expenditures as a way of deterring attack,” Roosevelt said. “The news about the war with Japan really put the wind up them; they want us to be strong and completely independent.”

“Yes, Mr President,” Palter agreed. “The downside is that the Army and the Army Air Force are having an inter-service war. The Army wants close-air support for the troops, as well as paratroopers and aerial supply lines; the Army Air Force wants to start again with the B17 and move directly to the bombers that blasted hell out of Germany last time around. They’ve got their hands on source materials from the war and are using it to boost their respective cases.”

Hanover smiled. Palter reminded himself of why he didn’t like the British Prime Minister. “Would it not be smarter to create the USAF ahead of time?”

“Perhaps, but both the Army and the Navy are very against it,” Palter said. He had to admit that it was a good point. “For the moment, we’re gearing up for war… but not everyone is agreed on what lessons we should draw from the last time the war was fought.” He smiled. “At least some lessons have been learned quickly; we have forced forward both radar and radio, as well as encryption.”

“I see,” Hanover said. He looked across at Roosevelt. “I trust that we can find time later to discuss the issue of production?”

Roosevelt nodded. “I would normally invite you back to the White House for dinner, but I understand that you plan to fly back to Britain tonight?”

Hanover nodded. “Just you wait,” he said, and Palter had to smile. “Back in our time, a diplomat could visit five world capitals in a day.”

Jim Oliver amused himself by demonstrating an old Japanese-made Game Gear to the Secret Service men, finally donating it to the leader’s children, while waiting for the man he had come to see. Officially, he was representing Mr Bracken, but as Mr Bracken was a composite persona he was representing the people behind Bracken. The Americans of this era, he’d been told, placed more reliance on good will and hard work; he was looking forward to learning if that were true.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the man said. Oliver stood up and shook hands firmly; Henry J. Kaiser was just as impressive in life as he was in history. “I was slightly delayed by the guards.”

“It’s quite understandable,” Oliver assured him. “I’ve been sent on behalf of the coalition that wishes to trade technology for mass-produced items.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kaiser said. “I was quite fascinated by the laptops; you’re selling them for only one hundred dollars?”

“Correct,” Oliver said. “Frankly, we can get the price down to fifty dollars, once we remove the need for self-powered systems. I imagine that you found the files on yourself interesting.”

“I am to build Liberty Ships,” Kaiser said wryly. “I wonder who thought of that.”

“You did, sir,” Oliver said. “Did you examine the other requirements?”

“You want me to build equipment for the war,” Kaiser said. “I read it with great interest; you want transport ships, tanks, lorries, landing craft and other equipment, paid for by selling the laptops and mobile phones.”

Oliver nodded, noticing that Kaiser didn’t seem to have a phone on his belt. “Indeed,” he said. “We are very interested in improving the American industrial base.”

Kaiser smiled. “And making a great deal of money in the process,” he said. “Tell me; why should we build equipment for you? Why can’t you build it for yourselves?”

“Because we don’t have the sheer size of industry required,” Oliver said, who’d expected that question. “We need the equipment as soon as possible, and we need you to be ready to meet your own war production requirements. The sooner it begins, the sooner that you will be ready to fight with us.”

“Interesting,” Kaiser said. “You seem certain that war will come.”

Oliver nodded. The government had briefed him carefully on that point. “The Germans have access to some knowledge about the future,” he said, declining to mention that that had been his work. “We now know that they are working on weapons of a destructive power you cannot even begin to imagine.”

Kaiser’s eyes narrowed. “If you have those weapons, why don’t you use them?”

“It’s an effect of having sixty years of semi-peace,” Oliver said. “All the long-haired hippies convinced everyone that it was better to be red, and then better to be green, rather than use the weapons. We haven’t had a good war leader since Thatcher, and did she use the weapons? Of course not; no one has the guts to use them.”

“And the Germans know that we fought them in the original history,” Kaiser mused.

“Indeed,” Oliver said. “If they gain control of the rest of the world, working with their allies, they will attack you before you can develop the weapons yourself.”

“Well, speaking on behalf of the other companies and myself, I think we will be delighted,” Kaiser said. “I understand that you are to remain here?” Oliver nodded. “You must give me a chance to show you around, perhaps even to talk in private,” Kaiser said.

“I would be delighted,” Oliver said, shaking hands. “I have to report to the Prime Minister, but then I would be at your service.”

Kaiser bowed and left to an old/new Rolls Royce, waiting for Oliver, who smiled to himself. Taking Kasper’s people legitimate would be difficult, but with a great deal of effort it could be done, and the Bracken persona would lead the way. There would be so much opportunity in America, and someone with advance knowledge of the future and a great deal of ruthlessness could really clean up.

Oliver allowed himself a smile as Hanover and the crippled President came out of their meeting room. The Americans would be more than happy to pay through the nose for advanced technology, and Oliver would be more than willing to supply it.