Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (story reading txt) 📕

The passage of wind coupled with the whir and click of cameras told him that Lindbergh was apparently standing outside in front of microphones.

Probably grandstanding at the Capitol Building.

Nick clenched his fists.

Let's not forget that the reason we've got obsolete equipment is you cut President Roosevelt's request by 25 percent to stop his 'adventurism' back in January.

"Senator Lindbergh, how did you find out about this 'Manhattan Project?'" a reporter shouted.

"Brave citizens concerned about this country's direction shared information with us," Senator Lindbergh replied. "That's all I will say about President Roosevelt's Folly until our committee calls its first witness on Thursday."

There were so many additional shouted questions that Nick had trouble making them out. An unidentified man whose voice Nick did not recognize called for the gathered reporters to ask their questions one at a time, and there was a moment of bedlam while the gathered throng figured out what they were going to ask.

There are days I wish D.C. was a lot closer to the action. Maybe goddamn German bombers overhead would stop some of this idiocy.

"Nicholas, what's wrong?" Agnes asked from the bathroom door. "You look like you want to kill someone."

Nicholas looked sheepishly down at his clenched fists.

"Politicians being idiots again," he said.

"This has you sitting there like you're expecting Tojo to walk through the door?" Agnes asked lightly, reaching up to dry her hair while looking straight at him.

She did that on purpose. I should be angrier that it worked.

Seeing her mission accomplished, Agnes grabbed a bathrobe, slipped it on, then sat down beside him. Nick started to reach for the radio, only to have Agnes put her hand on his.

"I want to listen," she said. Nick slipped his arm around her, and they listened while Senator Lindbergh continued to answer questions.

"Do you think it's true he's a German sympathizer?" Agnes asked after about a half dozen inquiries.

"No," Nick said without hesitation. "I think that he saw some things in Germany that he thought would be more efficient or should be enacted here, but Senator Lindbergh is an American patriot first."

Agnes nodded at Nick's words.

"Then why has he and his party been so resistant to President Roosevelt?"

"Because President Roosevelt did a lot of things without Congress' approval that set the table for where we're at now," Nick said sorrowfully. "I mean, if we're being honest, the man nearly got Eric killed because we interfered so strenuously in a war we were allegedly neutral in."

"But the Nazis are terrible people," Agnes noted.

"There are still rules," Nick replied. "When you start having a President giving nations arms and having our warships fire on German submarines, that sounds an awful lot like war."

"Didn't he say something about a garden hose and a neighbor's house?" Agnes asked with a smirk.

See, this is why people think you're a spy. You actually pay attention.

"Yes, well, he assumed the neighbor didn't have gasoline in the attic," Nick replied, then stopped. "Wait, how much did Senator Taft just say we've spent in Manhattan?"

Morton Residence

0735 Local (1335 Eastern)

10 August

Sam jerked awake as the pillow hit him in the face. His arm reflexively cocked back, ready to deliver a counter blow before Jo's startled yelp of surprise stopped him.

"What the hell Jo?" he asked, still trying to gain his bearings. Jo stood in front of the sofa bed, pillow clutched in both hands halfway between another swing and a potential block.

"You didn't wake up when I said your name five times, Sam," she snapped. "It was clear stronger measures were needed. Make yourself decent, we've got to talk."

Sam looked at Jo incredulously as she turned to go into the kitchen, setting the pillow on the chair in the corner.

What the hell has gotten into her? he wondered. Looking at the small table next to the sofa, he saw that Jo had left him a glass of water with a pair of pills.

Wrong twin you're leaving those for. Although thank goodness we got David back to the bachelor's officer quarters without running into Shore Patrol.

Surprisingly, David had gotten very, very hammered at Admiral Dunlap's party. Not without good reason—there'd been some English drinking game the Marines had been challenged to by the H.M.C.S. Norfolk's wardroom.

That's sure as hell not the '21' I was expecting.

Looking at the end table, Sam shrugged, then swigged down the glass of water.

Apparently Major Haynes has played before…and I suspect David was the sacrificial lamb in that particular gambit.

Grabbing his robe from the top of the sofa, Sam went to the bathroom first. It was only when he was washing his hands that Sam had a sudden start. Drying quickly, the eldest Cobb stepped back into the hallway and confirmed what his peripheral vision had told him.

"Jo!" he called, trying to keep his voice level. "Where's Toots?!"

"That's one of the things we need to talk about!" Jo called back.

Uh oh. I recognize that tone, and it's not a good one.

He walked into the kitchen right as Jo finished stirring a coffee mug to hand to him. Regarding her suspiciously, Sam took it.

"Sam, do you really think I'd poison you?" Jo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure of a lot of things right now," Sam replied evenly. Jo gave him a shocked expression.

This. This is why I'm still single.

"What is it with you Cobbs?" Jo asked archly. "Am I that much of a conundrum that not a single one of you can figure out how to talk to me? Or is it that neither Eric nor you give a fuck about my feelings?"

Oh shit. I've done touched off a powder magazine someone else has packed for me.

"Now Jo, that's not…"

"What, fair?" Jo snapped, slamming her coffee mug down on the counter. She stalked towards Sam, her fists clenched and face wild.

"You fucking asked me in a letter if I was a prostitute, Sam!" she said, her voice all the more intense from the effort of not trying to scream.