So I haven't had a lot of time or energy lately. Job hunting and depression really got me down. However, writing seems to help with the latter, and I figured I'd come back to this as a little break from my more original non-fanfic work.
--W--
November 12th, 1960
Airborne over Guatopo Wildlife Preserve
70KM inland from Caracas, Venezuela (Colony of the Reich)
As the jungle rushed past below, BJ had to admit he'd rarely seen a sight more beautiful. Looking down at the rolling miles of emerald treetops, he felt as though he'd been transported to some other planet, like the explorers in those weird fiction magazines that had been so popular before the war. It was a stark contrast to the iron-gray and intimidating landscape offered by most of Europe, and a strangely comforting one too. Here he could almost believe that the Nazis were far away, confined to some other universe where their grinding machines of industry could not touch the natural splendor.
"Tis beautiful, isn't it?" remarked Fergus from the pilot's seat next to him, "Reminds me a little o' home...but with a bloody hell of a lot more trees." He paused, as if thinking, then added: "Bout the same amount of rain, mind you."
"I came here once…" BJ remarked, causing the scot to glance over at him in surprise, "Long, long time ago, before we ever met." He stared down at the carpet of vegetation, which stretched to the horizon in nearly every direction. "Gotta be honest; all I really remember were the mosquitos. Bastards bit everything they could reach and then some…"
"Hah!" guffawed Fergus, grinning like a schoolboy, "Never thought I'd hear you complain about anything so small!"
"Small's about the last word I'd use to describe those bloodsuckers." BJ replied, feeling a small grin creep over his face as well, before the reality of their situation crept back on him. "Course they're probably in good company now, what with all the goddamn Nazis."
An awkward silence fell over the cockpit after that, prompting BJ to look out the copilot's side window while more greenery raced past. In the distance the sun sank towards the horizon, the late afternoon glow serving only to enhance the color of the landscape. It was beautiful, yes...but it wasn't enough to dispel the memory of everything else he'd seen on this trip, or make him forget why he was here.
--W--
It had been a long but mostly quiet trip across the Atlantic, with only a stop in Puerto Rico to steal fuel from a U-Boat pen and perform a bit of misdirection as to their intended course to serve as an interruption. Most people had settled in, with the new faces rescued from Strasse's compound making themselves alternatively useful and comfy. The majority had also accepted the offer to join the Kreisau Circle and fight the Nazis, which had given BJ something to occupy himself with while while Caroline had struggled to find evidence of resistance activity anywhere in South America. In short, he'd trained the troops, and she'd looked for more, while the sub churned on through the abyssal depths of the sea.
Initially the quest for signs of resistance hadn't met with much success. As Caroline had explained at length when asked, while the war had been good for the continent's collective economy, the wealth produced by selling raw resources to the U.S. hadn't helped much in staving off crushing heel of the Wehrmacht after Germany had emerged as the conflict's victor. The various nations had put up a bloody fight (except possibly for Argentina) when the time had come for them to bend the knee, and thousands had died, with the Germans being forced to resort to such tactics as mass executions and firebombing the jungle to root out pockets of fighters.
Still, for all their sacrifices, in the end they had been forced to bow like everyone else, and to add insult to injury, the new yoke they'd been fitted with as colonies of the Reich had included a tiered citizenship system based on racial purity, with Europeans at the top and all the 'half-breeds' at the bottom. This relegated a vast chunk of the population in many regions to little more than slave labor, while a new aristocracy of state officials ran everything from the privacy of their luxurious mansions and ranches.
The result was a society of haves and have-nots; an eternal aristocracy and a permanent underclass. Technology was strictly regulated, with licenses being required for ownership of anything beyond basic farming and mining equipment. Universities were closed to those not of Aryan descent. Public schools were almost unheard of. The majority of children born after the Nazi conquest were, according to intercepted reports, illiterate save for a very few basic elements delivered through their local church, which themselves were just another arm of the Reich now that the Vatican and Papacy were under state control. In short, the Nazis seemed determined to reduce their new subjects to the level of animals, incapable of free thought and too ignorant or impoverished to resist.
And yet, for all the awful hopelessness of their situation, Caroline had persisted, continuing to comb Nazi communiques and ENIGMA transmissions for any sign of enduring resistance to the Reich. Anya had been at her side all the way through it, and together, they'd chipped and hacked and picked away at the monolithic wall of propaganda and disinformation until finally, a ray of light had broken through. On Halloween, Caroline had laid out the evidence, most of which revolved around an organization from the latter days of the continent's resistance efforts known as 'Los Muertos Inquietos', or 'The Unquiet Dead', which she subsequently tied to a string of bombings suppressed by the Nazi-controlled media, the latest of which had occurred that very night.
It had been a monumental moment of triumph, spoiled only by the fact that no one, not even Caroline, had been able to work out a means of contacting the group. S.S. reports suggested that they lived deep inland, just as Caroline's rumors had suggested, operating out of caves and nomadic camps on the slopes of the Andes. Most reports of encounters with them came from the local military forces assigned to eliminate them, and they seldom managed to take any of the insurgents alive. That they did at all though was what gave rise to the next step in the plan. It was Fergus who made the suggestion that they repeat their stunt at Eisenwald prison back in Berlin by breaking out members of the Muertos Inquietos. The gratitude they would win would make them the inroads they needed to begin building ties with the resistance.
Caroline had nodded her assent to the idea, as had everyone else. After that, it had just been a matter of digging up where the rebel prisoners were being held. That in itself had proved a problem of course, because it had quickly turned out that wherever they were, it was no normal prison. Only when Anya had tried looking into research and development reports had the final pieces fallen into place.
--W--
When the prison heaved into view, BJ was immediately reminded of the London Nautica in some respects. The gray, monolithic bulk of the structure was obtrusive amid the canopy of green leaves; an intruder that stood out as a tumor among the healthy jungle. However, despite it's obviously alien nature to the landscape, it seemed the Nazis had taken a little bit of creative liberty with this particular installation to make it fit the cultural setting.
The place was composed of five stepped pyramids; one central ziggurat forming the core while four smaller ones merged with it's corners to create a fractal effect. Huge spotlights shot up from the top-most levels of each structure, bright against the fading sun. It was a twisted fusion of German and Mesoamerican aesthetics, though once he got closer, BJ could see that the balanced leaned heavily towards the former, despite the multi-tiered central structure. Flak towers posted the corners of the lowest levels, which were actually walls topped by barbed wire. Crenellations on this outer barrier gave the effect of a European castle. A single road led up to the front gate, winding between the trees until it reached the main gatehouse, which extruded from the eastern face of the complex like a mausoleum entrance, with enormous crimson banners bearing the mark of Hitler's Reich.
"Huh, well given the location, I s'ppose it's fittin'." Fergus grunted. BJ looked at him quizzically, causing him to chuckle darkly, "If yer goin' to be practicin' human sacrifice, might as well tell ev'rybody who can as hear."
BJ didn't laugh back, but merely pursed his lips in solidarity with the disgust Fergus was expressing. His friend's quip wasn't that far from the truth to be honest. The only difference between the purpose of this more modern ziggurat and the ones out in the deeper jungle was that it's victims were being sacrificed on the altar of science rather than some god whose name he couldn't pronounce. It was just another reminder that the Nazis devalued everyone who didn't comply with their Aryan standards. To them, all other races were subhuman, and therefore disposable. That went double for rebels, which was why they sent everyone found resisting their rule in this region to this place.
"What'd Anya say this place was for again?" Fergus inquired, "Some sort of science lab, right?"
"Not a clue." BJ answered, "Did say they were shipping in a lot of weird stuff though."
"Like what?" Fergus pressed, "Besides human bodies obviously."
"Didn't ask." BJ replied, "We nearly there?"
"Aye." groused Fergus, annoyed at being left in the dark, "We're nearly there."
As he spoke he heeled the aircraft over to the left, approaching the enormous complex from the southern face. BJ took the moment to reach into the pocket of his side's door and retrieve the map they'd been provided, unfolding it enough to display the map they'd managed to snag during a silent convoy raid a week earlier.
"So I'm goin' in through the sewers?" he asked rhetorically, "Thought I'd had enough of swimming in Nazi shit in Berlin."
"Ah, but their arse is the last place they'd expect to be stabbed, no?" Fergus joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Suppose so." BJ replied noncommittally, wishing for once he had backup. It wasn't that he minded being on his own. He'd fought through most of World War II that way. However, the reminder provided by a squad of fellows that he was not fighting alone would've been a comforting one. Alas, none of the rescues and other resistance veterans were in any shape to help right now. Most of latter were engaged in training the former in the finer points of being resistance fighters. While it pleased BJ that virtually all of them had pledged themselves to the Kreisau Circle's cause, it did leave him with the burden of carrying out most of the ground-work until they were ready to fight for themselves.
Idly, part of him couldn't help but wonder again if he should've brought Rodgers. Of all the men on the Eva's Hammer, he at least had truly known war, and while Fergus was handy to have in a pinch, it'd been a long time since he'd been anything but a lone wolf. However, Leda Fraiser, the woman who had essentially claimed the position of ship's doctor by right of stubbornness, had been dead-set against it. Seth had agreed, saying he needed more time to work out a means of restoring the Captain to his full integrity. Fighting with one arm and one eye after years in Deathshead's frozen lock-box was no way to speed recovery, even for a super-soldier. And after almost a month spent getting to know the man, BJ couldn't really disagree with either of them.
Right now, Rodgers reminded him uncomfortably of Wyatt, or what Wyatt would've been had he escaped Deathshead's horrible brain-extraction device. There was a pain of shattered idealism to him, of a man searching for a new direction. Until he got both feet on the ground mentally and a new arm to replace the old, he was in no shape to be fighting just yet. No, Captain America would have to wait, just like America herself it seemed. Before he could turn his thoughts back to the rest of the crew of the Hammer, Fergus cut into his thoughts.
"Alright, we're in position." he declared, "The operation is a go!"
BJ folded up the map and unbuckled his seatbelt as his pilot friend locked the helicopter into hover-mode, just barely above the treetops half a klick from the sewer entrance of the giant Nazi lab. The setting sun provided some visual cover, making BJ grin slightly. Hiding in the light was, in his experience, the best place to hide. He stood, checked his weapons and walked to the rear of the cabin, unlocking the port-side door and letting a sharp gust blow in from the craft's blades.
"I'll see ya on the other side, Fergus" he said, clicking his radio headset to make sure it was working.
"Aye!" was all the other man had to say, clicking his own radio to confirm the connection. BJ nodded one last time, then popped open the weapon's case strapped to the wall of the cabin. Inside, a new Lazerkraftwerk sat all shiny and new, courtesy of Seth's handiwork; a key for any door, including those without hinges. He grabbed it, looping it's strap around him, then retrieved and unrolled the rope ladder that had so recently been his salvation. He crouched down, swung himself out, and began to descend into the green hell below.
--W--
