A/N: Made small changes to fit the new Chapter 3 currently under rewrite.
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If we ever forget that we are One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under.
- Martin Luther King Jr.
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White House
Office of the President of the United States
Washington DC
United States of America
February 1985
"Now, let's start this meeting." Reagan said as the NSC nodded in greement. Everyone took seats in any available chairs while others remained standing as Reagan turned to secretary of commerce Malcom Baldrige Jr. "Mr. Secretary, give me a sitrep on our economy."
"Our economy is doing fine, for now, Mr. President." Malcom replied. But frowned abit as he continued. "However, the emphasis on 'for now'. The stock market is going to collapse sooner than anticipated as trade decrease, which will weaken and halt our economic growth."
"After that, we will experience economic stagnation as I have mentioned that trade would be decreased to a few nations." He continued as a sombering tone flowed over the room's atmosphere. "And if this economic stagnation continues, it will drop. After that, there would be no America left to save."
Everyone was silent at the revelation. They knew that their situation was already problematic but never knew it was this worse. They kept silent as Malcom continued. "However, I did some precautions to leviate the damage. But I need the support of you and congress to ratify and execute these plans."
Malcom then gives Reagan a folder, with the seal of the Department of Commerce on the front. "To make these documents short, we plan on salvaging what's left and restructuring the economy as well as investing on our domestic market. That would might help us in the long run."
Reagan read through the document. Mostly about re-negotiating trading with partners, economic restructure and such. However, what got him the most was the expansion of his Reaganomics plan with tax reforms, continued deregulation, tighter monetary policies, and investing in domestic industry.
"But we do need to restart trade with our existing partners and find new ones." He pointed. "Combining all of NATO's resources, we don't have enough to continue production of a lot of our products, especially fuel."
"Yes, I am concerned about it as well." The secretary of energy, John Harrington, said with a nod. "We do need oil to power all our power plants all across the mainland, fuel our vehicles, and much of our machines in the factories are fueled by oil."
Oil has been a number one product being used by everyone back on earth. Its the single resource that powers all of the world's machines with more efficiency and energy compared to other sources of power, besides nuclear power.
The US alone produces a large percentage of it and a large percentage of consumption as well.
"With oil tankers no longer coming from the Middle East, we may have to ration our own oil for awhile." He added with a concerned tone. "The Canadians could supply us in the long run but it would take long for their oil production to see progress."
"We could ramp up oil production by 200 percent, more than the percentage that we have. But it would be 24/7 no break for the workers."
"No. The risks outweight the benefits." Reagan firmly stated. Harrington attempted to voice his object but Reagan interrupted. "People would be protesting outside should they hear about it and we can't risk such event. So no, not now atleast."
"For now, we'll ration our oil and pull out reserves." Reagan declared and Harrington nodded. He turns his attention to the secretary of defense Weinberger. "Secretary Weinberger, an update on our military forces."
Weinberger nodded and spoke. "Firstly, the military is in good shape. All forces within the US mainland, Alaska, and Hawaii, as well as our Pacific island bases, are here."
"However, our foreign forces is a different question." Weinberger then gives Reagan a few photos to him. Reagan looked in astonishment from its contents.
One photo shows Peterson Air Base, Colorado with F-15s lined up near C-130s, no F-15 squadron were stationed on the base before their sudden transferrence. One was even underneath a C-5 Galaxy with one of the cargo plane's engines just between the Eagle's twin tails.
Another photo shows a convoy of M60 Pattons in winter camoflage at Fort Moore, Georgia. Along side the tanks were M113 APCs, a few winter camo M2 Bradleys, and a dozen or so Humvees and trucks that were sporting the UN logo with a few soldiers wearing the logo of the United Nations Command in Korea.
Lastly was a photo of the USS Enterprise, Midway, and Kitty Hawk on Naval Station Norfolk, along with them were their escort ships of cruisers, destroyers, and frigates. From what Reagan could remember, all three ships were forward deployed in Asia.
"From dozens of police reports have summarized, personnel and equipment from our bases outside of Europe and North America such as in Japan, Kuwait, Qatar, Honduras, and others are now located near bases within the continental US."
"I see..." Reagan muttered and spoke. "But do we have any idea on how?"
"Up until now, we have no idea how our people from outside the states and Europe got here with us." Weinberger added. "But ignoring much of the problems, all services are 100 percent ready with no reported lost equipment."
Reagan nodded as he turns to McFarlane. "Sir McFarlane, anything to add in our current predicament?"
"Of course." McFarlane walks over to Reagan and Weinberger with a large document.
Reagan opens the document, with Weinberger leaning over, was surprised with satellite photos of cities, much like the other day. However, it differs from the ones he saw before as there were large plumes of smoke and areas with nothing but white marks.
A few pixels in between were sillouettes of large aircraft over these plumes and white marks.
"It seems that I no longer need to explain." McFarlane said, closing his eyes as he continued. "But to make it simple, these are photos of bombed cities."
Everyone turned in disbelief, not expecting on hearing such sentence. A brief silence hovered over the room until Reagan broke it. "Are...these from the newest satellite recon?"
"Yes sir." McFarlane replied in serious tone. "These photos shows that there is a physical threat outside of our sphere. A threat that could endanger both us and our allies."
"But this would be a threat in the future." McFarlane added. "Since the perpetrators of the bombing don't know us and haven't found us yet, we could keep our existence a secret to the rest of the world."
Reagan grunts with a nod. "A potential threat, to be sure. But one with capabilites that can still be a real threat, much like the Soviets in the 50s."
"Yes sir." McFarlane nodded in agreement. "I suggest we keep ourselves unknown for now, sir. Until we finish reconstruction of our economy and revive much of our domestic industry."
Reagan grunts again with a nod. He then turns back to Weinberger. "Weinberger, I need our forces at DEFCON 3. All armed forces are to be prepared for mobilization should we face them. I also want our satellites and reconnaisance aircraft observing and reconning the planet 24/7."
Weinberger nodded in response. "I'll have strike groups out to sea and our nuclear deterrence ready for launch. They'll be ready at a minutes notice."
Reagan nodded with satisfaction, knowing that America still has its fangs. "Good. We need our nation at a heightened readiness if we are to face such opponents. We can't underestimate anyone with any powerful capabilities."
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Kennedy Space Center
Control Room
Merritt Island
United States of America
It was a shining afternoon at Kennedy Space Center. The sun radiating over the NASA command center as people and ground crews of NASA's command and control entered the facility to start their work as engineers and facility operators continue their operations.
However, NASA engineer Mark Collins was more focused on his own job than intruding some other people's work. He isn't like that.
Entering the facility's control room, Collins sat on his seat, checked his instruments, and began his normal routine work of keeping track on the dozens of satellites that orbited the planet they're currently reside.
After their sudden transferrence into this new world, NASA now tracks around 43 satellites in orbit over the planet, with all of them being American satellites under NASA and a few Air Force Space Command. As such, a few engineers are assigned in checking all satellites and their orbit as to prevent any of these highly important satellites from crashing or falling.
It was weird, to say the least. After the transferrence, these 43 remaining satellites had changed their orbit trajectory from Earth's to this planet's orbit. Not only that, their systems were rebooted with some modifications. And still, to this day, no one has gotten an idea as to how this happened and why only 43 and not all 400 of America's satellites.
Just as he starts his shift, his co-league Kenneth Gibbson walked up and gave him a cup of coffee. "Here. You looked haggard."
Collins saw this and accepts the coffee with a thank you. Gibbson nodded and spoke. "You still sleepy?"
"All good Ken." Collins tiredly replied as he checked his intruments on his console, yawning between his sentences. Then his table turned on. "No problems with our systems."
"Good." Gibbson said while nodding. "Hey, I heard that satellite launches were halted due to our current situation. Because of that, government's going to cut our budget."
"Isn't that going to hinder operations?" Collins inquired to him. "I mean, I understand but shouldn't the government also focus on launching sats up in orbit for comms and surveillance?"
"That's the thing, they put it as secondary." He replied. "For now, atleast."
"Yeah, higher ups are hoping the government would change their minds." Gibbson sips on his cup of coffee before continuing. "Anyways, how's that Mustang that your father bought for you?"
"It was great. Smooth ride and easy to drive." Collins said, his face still focused on his instrument. "I can finally sell my old 2nd Gen BelAir."
"A 2nd Gen BelAir?" Gibbson said in surprise. Collins nodded. "Dude, if you sell that shit, you'll get lotta bucks for it!"
"Which is why I'm selling it at $100,000." Collins added, which surprised Gibbson. "My cousin said that rich people are into old shit. So If some rich guy were to buy this, I'm sold with big bucks in my pocket."
"Lucky you, man," Gibbson replied, with a pat on Collins' shoulder. "Anyways, you got time for your end shift?"
Collins nodded. "Yeah, you still wanna go to that new coffee shop at town?"
"Sure." Gibbson replied. He then noticed on the screen of Collins' console. "Hey, you got something on screen. Its marked 'unknown'..."
"Huh?" Collins turns to the screen, and sure enough, an unknown is currently marked on his screen. "That's weird... maybe its a glitch or an asteroid."
"Sadly we can't confirm that identification," Gibbson remarked as he took another sip from his coffee. "Especially how we are currently reduced capability."
"Just for measures, I'll keep it on the satellite tracking system." Collins said just as he pressed a few keys on his keyboard, which permanently lists the object in the list. "Just in case this object interferes with sat operations or its identity found."
"Good idea." Gibbsons said with a nod. "That way, we can report the thing to the higher-ups. Great thinking, Collins."
Collins just smirked and smiled. "I aim to please."
But unbeknownst to them, it was just one of many signs they'll face as they continue through exploring this new world.
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Embassy of Germany
Office of the German Ambassador to France
City of Paris
French Republic
Franz Jochen Schoeller, the German ambassador to France, sighed deeply, feeling a mixture of frustration and fatigue settling over him like a heavy fog. He ran a weary hand through his hair, his mind swirling in confusion as he tried to understand the French President's sudden visit to the embassy.
On his desk was a letter addressed to him from the French presidential residence, the Élysée Palace, in which it was written that French President François Mitterrand would like to meet him in the embassy.
Other than that, nothing was written of the details of this meeting.
This gave Schoeller a migrain that can last a day or so. But he can't so anything now as this letter was sent to him several hours ago, meaning Mitterrand is on his way.
Just as he was about to put the letter under his desk, a guard enters the room. "Herr Botschafter, President Mitterrand has arrived."
Schoeller nods. "Let him in."
The guard followes his words and escorted Mitterrand inside his office. "Grüße, Präsident Mitterrand. Welcome to the embassy." Schoeller greeted him with a smile, offering a handshake.
Mitterrand accepts the handshake and replied. "To you, as well, monsieur l'ambassadeur."
Breaking off the handshake, Schoeller spoke first. "What brings you here to the embassy, Mr. President?" He asked with a curious look.
"I'm here to talk about our current situation." Mitterand replied. "More specifically, both the security of Europe and the acclaimed 'another world' report by the Americans."
Schoeller sighed with a bit of frustration. "Haven't the Americans already proven it? They already showed satellites photos of regions outside our sphere."
"Yes," Mitterrand replied. "But I have a feeling that the Americans are hiding something and they haven't disclosed it to everyone yet."
Schoeller sighed again. "It is imperative that you stop this, Herr Mitterrand. The Chancellor is not about to betray his most steadfast and powerful ally."
"It is why we must move our plans much earlier than expected." Mitterrand said. "With the USSR no longer a threat and our current situation proving to be problematic, we must have a unified Europe against threats outside and inside NATO."
Schoeller's eyes widened in shock. "You're telling me that America is a potential threat?"
Mitterrand just stood silent before replying. "...yes. And America will become a threat if we just stood idly."
"As Europeans, we must not rely on outside powers. As such, we must be a unified continent with the same goal." He said as he kept ranting. "America is a thorn in Europe's unification as a people. They have already influenced many of our neighbors, especially the British."
"To protect the interests of Europe, we must not rely on America and must rely on each other." He then walks up to him. "And we, Germany and France, will lead Europe to her golden age."
"Then we have an impass, Herr Mitterand." Schoeller firmly stated. "Your actions have spoken true to your real colors. You want to become a superpower again."
"You French are stubborn as hell and too greedy for your own gain." He continued. "You kept your colonies from leaving your influence, resulting in many deaths. Your actions in Vietnam, Algeria, and others are not something we would like to be apart with."
"Even though America made mistakes, they know what those mistakes are and tried to fix them." Schoeller huffed for a moment. "Even though their methods are questionable at best."
"France can no longer become a superpower, Herr Mitterrand. That's the reality we face now."
Schoeller then sat on his chair, leaning backwards and turing his head towards the window. The bright sun beaming down his office.
"The fate of Europe is not at the hands of France but at the hands of everyone defending her and the people that made her their home." He then turns back to Mitterrand. "I just hope you see it as Germany saw her fate back in the war."
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Ministry of Defense
Situation Room
City of London
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
"The Royal Air Force are conducting maritime patrols along with the Royal Navy." The Chief of the Defence Staff, Sir David Craig, reported as a projector screen shows dozens of islands with unit numbers on them. "With their recent report, the Air Force and Navy has increased their all-round trips to secure and maintain all-round combat air patrols on ports and major coastal areas."
"We have also begun sending warships out of our EEZ." He continued as a photo of the HMS Illustrious and her escorts appeared. Then the sillouettes of a Type 42 destroyer and a Type 22 frigate appeared on the screen as Sir Craig continued. "Two escort flotillas are on coastal patrol duty as we speak led by the Illustrious."
"HMS Invincible and her group are on their way to Akrotiri and Dhekelia as a relief force for the stranded forces there." He added as he turns to the woman sitting on the other side of the table. "All in all, the military is doing what it can to pull miracles."
"I know, Sir Craig." The woman said, her gaze sharp as swords. Margaret Thacher, the prime minister of the United Kingdom, grabs her cup of tea and sips. "But it would take more than miracles to solve our problems. Especially with resources."
"With the limited natural resources within the Home Islands, we might as well colllapse all together." She said. "But I'm not about to destroy my country. I am here to fix it."
Thatcher then turns to the secretary of state for foreign, Commonwealth and development affairs Douglas Hurd. "Mister Secretary, any messages from the Americans? I do want to know if the Yanks have any answers to our predicament."
"We have received a few messages from them, prime minister." Sir Hurd replied. "However, in relation to our question, even the Americans don't know what happened as well. However, they are initiating an Atlantic-Pacific ocean patrol operation.
"Blasts. So everyone is in the blind?" Everyone nodded. "Fine, call the Yanks again. Tell them we'll also coordinate with them and the Canadians in patrolling the Atlantic and survey areas with potential rare earth minerals."
"By your word, madam prime minister." Hurd said, to which Thatcher nodded.
"Now, any other news regarding the rest of the continent?" Thatcher inquired to her Chief of Staff. "We already know what's happening in mainland Europe so..."
"None to get your attention, madam prime minister." Sir Craig replied, much to Thatcher's relief. "But we will keep you informed on the current operations and any events in the future."
Thatcher clasps her hands. "Jolly good show. Well then, let us adjourn this meeting. I'll be seeing you gentlemen once this affair blows off."
With a salute, then Chiefs of Staff of Britain's armed forces left the room, leaving Thatcher and Hurd inside. Thatcher sighed as she leans on her chair. "This is a disaster."
"Just when we were about to end both our economic recession and tensions rising with the Reds, this happens." She said with frustration. "I prefer having to face the Russians than face these circumstances."
"Madam prime minister, I don't think you should say that." Hurd said. "I know you're frustrated but it is not right to joke on a potential and hypothetical global nuclear war."
"Right, right." She sighs and takes a sip off her tea. "Still, losing contact with the world and a new yet same environment currently surrounding us, I think that we are, as the Yanks say, no longer in Kansas."
"Anyways, how's the mainland doing? Last time I heard of them, they were declaring martial law and a continent-wide lockdown."
"No changes within the mainland, madam prime minister." Hurd replied. "However, I have a feeling. As time continues on, there will be problems that we will face, domestic and foreign problems."
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Central Pacific
USS New Jersey
New Jersey Battle Group
Captain Richard D. Milligan sipped his morning coffee in the USS New Jersey's bridge, still puzzled by their situation. From what he remembered, he and his crew were in Lebanon assisting US-aligned forces in the region , providing naval gunfire support to allied ground forces during the Lebanese Civil War along side a coalition of a few nations.
Then in a twisted turn of events, they suddenly got teleported to Long Beach Naval Shipyard, 7,000 miles away from Lebanon. In just a single night, the New Jersey Battle Group got teleported back to the States, something that should not have ever happened.
After shaking the unbelievable shock off, they were immediately given orders from Pacific Command to patrol the waters near Midway Atoll due to the current unavailability of many of the Navy's warships.
Accompanied by a nuclear-powered cruiser, a destroyer, and two frigates, the New Jersey set sail for Hawaii to commence their armed patrol near the islands.
Presently, the New Jersey, escorted by the USS Meyerkord, a Knox-class frigate, is patrolling 178 miles northwest from Midway in a westerly heading. The remainder of the battle group dispersed to widen coverage, ensuring the Eastern Pacific remains secure from unauthorized vessel entries and exits.
He sighed, just letting everything pass his mind to focus on his task at hand. At the same time, his XO, Lieutenant Commander John Baker, walked up to him. "Captain, you should see the news."
"Alright. OOD has the conn." He said as Milligan walked out of the bridge and a sailor stood from his position.
Entering the ship through an open door, Milligan followed LtCmd. Baker through the ship's interior, passing by the inches thick bulkheads of the battleship's inner sanctums, a standard security feature onboard many of the Navy's warships. A few sailors they passed by saluted to him and Baker, a standard and common procedure when an officer passes by.
Walking down a flight of stairs, they were met with the ship's Gunner's Mate Barry Bagwell. "Captain, what brings you here in the bulkheads?" Bagwell said with a grin.
"Baker said something about the news." Milligan replied.
"You know why XO?" Bagwell asked. Baker just shrugs with a confused and unknowing look. "Well, let's just get this over with. I'm needed on the CIC if shit happens."
"Don't worry, Bagwell." Milligan said with assurance as he followed the two. "From what I see, it seems that this would be quick."
Bagwell just nods and kept on walking along side Milligan and Baker, passing by sailors and the inches thick blast doors as the three men continued to go ever deeper into the ship's gray-colored steel halls of its inner corridors which were decked on with small smudges and rust stains after serving for more than 50 years. Milligan just ponders on what to do with the stains after their deployment.
Milligan's ship, the New Jersey, was old. So old in fact that it served during the Second World War against the Japanese. Even more old if you add in the time of its design plan and construction phase before the War.
Designed in the 1930s for the US Navy, the Iowa-class of fast battleships are some of the Navy's most powerful and heavily armed warships in service. The four battleships served from World War II all the way to the Vietnam War, being retired and reactivated back to service two times in their lifetime.
In their recent reactivation, the Iowa-class battleships were modernized for the potential war with the Soviet Union as part of Reagan's 600-ship Navy plan.
Gone were the analog systems and their obsolete surface search radar, all replaced with a more modern screen and a digitalized sensors and processing systems. Adding to its complement of electronic warfare swit were more powerful radar jammers, acoustic decoys, and chaff launchers.
Removed from their decks were their old complement of 40mm and 20mm anti-aircraft guns which littered the ship's deck during their service in World War II and Korea, replaced by 4 20mm Phalanx CIWS.
Half of their 20 5 inch/38 caliber guns were removed, replaced with Tomahawk cruise missile and Harpoon anti-ship missile launchers, 32 and 16 launchers respectively. These two additions to their firepower gave the Iowa-class battleships a renewed purpose as large platforms for naval bombardment and in ship-to-ship engagements along side their giant nine 16 inch/50 caliber Mark 7 main guns.
Milligan and the two officers, after walking pass the halls, finally arrived at the canteen hall where they were met with dozens of sailors watching the TV on the side of the pillar, recently installed for both entertainment and news updates.
Milligan passed through the crowd and was able to see what the crew were watching on the TV.
It was the news. But the news was showing a live feed in the White House's Press Briefing Room with President Reagan standing on the podium. Behind him were the secretary of defense and state.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Reagan started as he looked at the camera pointed towards him. "Today marks an unprecedented chapter in our nation's history, as we find ourselves transported into a realm beyond our own planet."
"As we stand on this unfamiliar ground, let us embrace the spirit of unity and resilience that has defined the American people throughout our storied past."
"In this new world, where new enemies and potential allies lies await for us, America faces new challenges and opportunities. Just as we stood as a beacon of freedom in our world, so too shall we uphold our principles in this mystical land."
"NATO, our steadfast alliance, remains a cornerstone of our strength. Together, with our allies with us, we will stand shoulder to shoulder against whatever challenges may come our way."
"In the face of uncertainty and undeniable probability, let us remember the values that bind us together - liberty, democracy, and the pursuit of a brighter future for all. We bring to this world not only the strength of our armies but the resilience of our ideals."
"As we navigate this uncharted territory, let it be known that the United States of America, alongside our NATO allies, remains a force for good, a force for freedom. Together, we shall script a new legend, where the indomitable American spirit shines as brightly in realms unknown as it does on our home soil."
"May our journey in this new world be marked by cooperation, courage, and a commitment to the principles that have made America a beacon of hope. United we stand, even amidst the most mystical of landscapes."
"Thank you, and may the stars of this new realm shine upon the United States and her allies."
Milligan, and the rest of the crew inside the cafeteria hall, were shocked, their eyes wide as a plate. They never would have thought that they would be transported to another world. Much less a world similar to Earth in every aspect of a habitable world.
Milligan hears the crew whispering to one another, the feeling of concern floating over and filling the room quickly.
Baker, after shaking off the shock over him, turned to Milligan. "Sir, what should we do now?"
Milligan kept silent, thinking, before responding with a firm tone. "We continue our mission. Keep the Central Pacific guarded."
However, Bagwell looks to him with a different look. "Sir, this is going to be a gigantic mess here. If we are really not on Earth anymore, it would become a crisis on board. Especially for the few crew members having families outside the states."
Just then, a sailor suddenly entered the cafeteria with a bothered look and walked up th the three. "Sirs, we have a situation on the CIC. We need you there ASAP."
The three looked at each other and followed the sailor to the CIC, more affectionately known as the combat information center.
As part of the modernization program for the Iowa-class, the additional upgrades on the combat information center gave the needed accurate calculations for effective gunfire and coordination between the crew and bridge as well as coordinating with other allied ships in the region.
On the New Jersey, a few screens were digitalized, offering the CIC crew with ease of use. Adding to that was the addition of a more modern and accurate fire control system, replacing the old analog system installed back in the 40s.
Entering the dimly lit room, the three were led to the ship's radar console where they were met with the radar operator sitting on his chair with a cup of coffee on a cup holder. "Sailor, what's the problem?" Milligan asked as he looked at the radar screen.
"I'm detecting a single aerial bogey, sir. They're bearing 010 and closing." The radar operator replied as he pointed at the small, yet noticable, dots on the screen. "None of my IFF systems are identifying it and it appears that the bogey is small, the size of Cessna 4-seater sir."
A single unidentified aircraft the sized of a small private civilian aircraft would be less of a threat and more of a nuicance for him and high command where a appropriate response would be forcing the plane back to Hawaii for internment and violation of breaching the blockade. However, this unknown air unit came from the outside of the air defense zone. This means that its a foreign aircraft and they are watching it entering their section of the blockade with unknown intentions.
Not only that, it was flying in the middle of the Pacific. The Pacific Ocean is too vast of a body of water for an aircraft this small to fly this far. It could be a plane from Hawaii but no plane can reach this far.
Milligan turned to Baker with a concerned look. "Baker, any procedures on a small aircraft with no identifications entering our side of the ocean?"
"Unless its from the mainland, we have no standing procedures given except getting the plane off its course." Baker replied, much to Milligan's confusion.
"Bagwell, mark the plane on the board. Coordinates are 30 degrees, 23 North and 179 degrees, 17 West. Bearing 010 at a heading of 70 degrees off their location from Midway Atoll." Milligan said. Bagwell just followed and drew a small plane on the glass panel, a simple recreation of what the radar sees.
"Sirs," The radar operator spoke up. "The target is turning northwards at a northernly direction."
Milligan acknowledged with a nod. "Keep a track on the bogey's radar pings. I don't know what we're seeing so keeping track would do us good." He said as the sonar operator nodded and turned back to the sonar screen.
Just then, the radio operator inside the CIC quickly raised his hand, indicating its immediate attention. "Sirs, I got something on the radio. Its faint but its there."
The three officers walked up to the radio operator and grabbed one headset each. As the radio operator adjusted the frequency of the radio, they can hear faint and garbled voices over the headsets.
<<Commandement de la Défense... aucun navire repéré>> Milligan and the three officers heard over the radio. <<Reprise du CAP-...Rouge 1>>
'French?' Milligan asked himself. Why was the unknown speaking French while also flying in the middle of the Pacific? From what he remembered, France is on the other side of their pond, the Atlantic. There should be no French ship or anything European in the Pacific, bearing the British due to Canada.
Milligan removed the headset, followed by Baker and Bagwell. "Looks like we found our answer." He said as he turned to the two.
"Bagwell, send a notice to Pacific Fleet Command and set all departments to Condition Yoke." Bagwell nodded and went to the radio operator's side before Milligan turned to Baker. "Baker, get to the bridge. Tell the helmsman to turn 010 and contact the rest of the fleet regroup to the New Jersey."
Baker nodded and left the CIC. Milligan just turned to the glass board where he stared at the aircraft drawn on the glass marked with red ink.
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Embassy of the Swiss Confederation to France
Conference Room
City of Paris
French Republic
Sitting across the Conference Room table, Ambassador François de Ziegler of the Swiss Confederation to France reached for his cup of tea and took a sip, the savoring flavor touching his tongue as he awaited the French ambassador's arrival.
After a considerable amount of time trying to get communications back up, the Swiss government immediately contacted every single embassy they can reach. Fortunately, they were able to reestablish contact with their embassy in France.
Ziegler was estatic when communications with his homeland was reestablished. He thought that he would have to form a new Swiss union along side his other colleagues previously in the same boat as him days ago.
Then, immediately after communications returned, he was given the task with getting information on the current situation outside of Swiss, and Liechtenstein, territory. As such, Ziegler asked the French ambassador to his office for information.
Entering his office, Ambassador Gèrard de Rivière smiled and shook the Swiss man's hand. "Ambassadeur Ziegler, it is wonderful to finally see you happy. I hope it is about your homeland?"
"Yes, that us correct." Ziegler nodded with enthusiasm as the two sat down. "But this meeting is not about me, I would like to ask of you on the current situation outside."
"Ah, I see." Rivière nodded in understanding. He then reached down on his case and pulled out a brown envelope. "Very well, I should spill the beans. Luckily, I have documents regarding the current state of affairs."
"Currently, we are in a predicament." He explained as he gave the envelope to Ziegler. "Europe, baring the East, have been transported into a new world along side North America, baring Mexico."
"We still have no conclusion on how this happened and why only us and the Americans and Canadians were transferred here." Rivière stated, still looking at Ziegler as the latter looked through the file. "As of now, we are currently in the mist of an economic downturn. But we are still recovering."
Ziegler stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and shock. The notion of being transferred to another world was preposterous to him, a concept more fitting in a high fantasy novel than reality. He couldn't fathom how such an event could occur, and he suspected that his government shared his skepticism.
To entertain the idea that two continents could be transported to a completely different world seemed beyond the realm of possibility, especially given the lack of scientific evidence or precedent for such occurrences. It was a concept that defied logic and reason, leaving Ziegler and likely many others to dismiss it as an outlandish fantasy rather than a plausible reality.
For Ziegler, and perhaps for the government as well, the notion of interdimensional travel remained firmly rooted in the realm of fiction, a concept that had no place in the rational, empirical world they inhabited. Well, until now that is.
"I...see." Ziegler said as he shook of the dumbfoundness off his face. "Then I should thank for your decision on coming here. I must relay this to the rest of my government."
Rivière nodded in understanding. "You should. Especially with how the continent is as of now, I suggest that the Swiss state must break out of their neutrality and focus on reshaping the economy."
"But from what I can remember, Switzerland is self-sufficient enough for itself." He added. "But I digress."
"Well, thank you ambassador." The two then stood up from their seats and shook hands again. "I hope this blows off immediately."
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State Council Building
Office of the Chairman of the State Council and General Secretary of the the Socialist Unity Party of Germany
East Berlin
German Democratic Republic
Erich Honecker dragged his feet towards his seat and leaned backwards, releasing a sigh as he relaxed his exhausted body after three days of reconstruction and economic reform following the 'Great Blip' days prior.
Following the 'Great Blip', the East German economy stagnated due to the loss of economic support from the USSR and the disappearance of their trading partners in the bloc. This economic stagnation had gotten worse when they realized that the West was also with them, states that don't use the Mark der DDR as a currency for trade and currency exchange.
Up until now, the economy is in a stand still while slowly going down. It was only the help of West Germany that kept it from falling since East Germany and West Germany do currency exchanges and limited trade in terms of food and materials, both essential for the survival of the nation.
Suddenly, somebody knocks on the door. "Who is it?" He asked.
"It is the Chairman of Ministers, Herr Generalsekretär." The man on the otherside said. "I have come to report about our recent negotiations with the west."
"Come in." Then the doors open and revealed the 70-year old Wilhelm Stoph, the Chairman of the Council of Ministers and his predecessor, holding a briefcase. "Herr Stoph, I'm glad that you are doing well. How's the family?"
Stoph chuckled from Honecker's words. "All good, Herr Generalsekretär. My wife has been keeping me healthy and the children are keeping me company as always."
Honecker chuckled. "I'm happy to hear that you are doing fine after stepping down. I might say that you are lucky to step down because of our current situation."
Stoph sighed and nodded in agreement. "Agreed. If I continue as generalsekretär, I would have gotten a heart attack after the 'Great Blip'." He jokingly said, chuckling as he pulled out a folder from his brief case.
Honecker just chuckled. "You survived the war and became a general, I don't think a heart attack can kill you anyway. So, anything to give to me?" Stoph nodded.
"The West German government have agreed to expand the trade deal to include coal, agricultural equipment, rare earth minerals, and more." Stoph said as he gave the file to him. "The ministers have agreed to the trade deal without opposition. We just need your opinion on this, Herr Generalsekretär."
Honeker hummed as he dragged through the file. Mostly about the resources that they'll be buying off from the West and the needed agricultural equipment for farming.
He was glad that the West are accepting this trade deal with them, a communist state. He has always known that the West was extremely anti-communist, to the point that they'll topple a non-aligned nation's government just to keep communism from spreading. In his opinion, it was too extreme.
But that isn't to say the Eastern block does the same. The USSR does the same thing as the west does so no good or bad side in this Cold War except who will be left.
"Any demands from them?" Honecker asked, to which Stoph shook his head. He thought for a few seconds before responding. "It is the people of both our states that we must focus on. Tell the west that we will agree to their deal in exchange of further talks in expanding the deal in the future."
"Of course, Herr Generalsekretär." Stoph said as he left the office, leaving Honecker to his thoughts.
'Someday,' He thought as he turned to the window behind him where it overlooked a road where dozens of people were walking and cars driving by. 'Someday, our people will finally be unified.'
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Changes
Apr 19 - Changed a few line in Paragraph 1 and 4. Removed Paragraph 5, replaced with Swiss Paragraph from the old Chapter 3 and added the British.