The rifleman never got to throw the grenade though as the next burst of superheated rounds burnt holes in his torso and his arm, the grenade dropped at his feet and went off. The walls were coated in a sickly claret.
A barely audible knock on the door slightly amused Westmoreland, “What? Do they think we are just going to let them in?”
His laughter was short lived as the roof above caved in and debris fell all over the men sheltering inside. Westmoreland sprinted and pushed Agnew to the floor. A large piece of concrete fell onto the General’s leg and he was pinned down.
He shouted for help from the men in black but he did not get a response, he looked to where they were stood not two minutes earlier but he could not see them.
“Where are you?” He shouted in agony but there was no reply, the men in black had just vanished into thin air. “Where have those yellow-bellied bastards gone!”
Spiro Agnew gingerly got to his feet but as he did he immediately froze as four Aryan soldiers stood in front of him with their weapons raised. The secret service men who were there to guard Agnew sprang to their feet but they were immediately killed.
“What are you waiting for, kill us,” Westmoreland said.
The Aryan kicked the pistol out of the General’s hand and then pointed his rifle at Westmoreland’s head.
“You are not meant for death, yet.” A voice called out from behind, in a familiar German accent.
Independence lost
Fighting still raged across the city but the small pockets of resistance could only fight on for so long before they were overrun. The White House was now clear off all but a tiny proportion of US soldiers who would not give in.
In the emergency bunker, Commander Sporrenberg surveyed the situation.
“Face it, gentleman, you have lost the battle; I have an offer of unconditional surrender here.” The German narrowed his eyes as he locked onto Agnew. “You will sign this on a live broadcast and read out the terms to the beaten population.
Agnew did not respond but he subconsciously took a step back. He looked at the Aryan soldiers who had their weapons focused on him. Agnew could feel himself shaking but he managed to speak.
“I will, I will do no such thing. You are scum and I will not cooperate with the likes of you!”
Sporrenberg shook his head. The predator took a few steps towards Agnew and placed his hand on the vice president’s shoulder. “Think about your actions Vice President, this will stop the senseless killing of your people.”
Spiro Agnew pulled away from Sporrenberg, “No, you can go to hell.”
Sporrenberg’s face contorted into that terrifying grin, “So be it.” He raised his pistol and fired a single shot into Agnew’s stomach.
The Vice President reeled backward, he clenched at the wound as he doubled over in pain. Sporrenberg fired again and the plasma round burnt through the man’s chest. The bone was scorched along his rib cage.
Agnew fell to his knees as he struggled for breath. The Vice President looked up into the German’s chest. Sporrenberg spat on him and then kicked him in the fresh wound. Agnew writhed in pain.
Sporrenberg bent over, “You are pathetic.” He pulled the trigger and the round seared through Agnew’s temple. The ex-SS man gave Agnew’s body one final kick.
Westmoreland hung his head, he knew what that meant.
The remaining Secret service guards were dispatched on Sporrenberg’s orders, they were lined up against the wall and killed by firing squad.
“Get that sack of shit up to his feet,” Sporrenberg ordered as he nodded to Westmoreland.
Two Aryan soldiers held Westmoreland in place as Sporrenberg stood in front of him.
“Looks like it is up to you General, will you do the right thing and end this nightmare for your Countrymen, or will you try and be a hero like Mr. Agnew?.”
Westmoreland could not meet Sporrenberg’s gaze. He just nodded.
“Excellent.” Sporrenberg said, “You are doing the right thing.”
Westmoreland was escorted to the main office that was normally reserved for the President; it was being set up as a studio with cameras being placed on all sides of the room. The Aryan’s also set up microphones for the accompanying radio broadcast.
A chill ran through the General’s spin, the swastika hung from the walls with its menacing black, white and red colorings, Westmoreland felt dizzy and nauseous. ‘This can’t be happening’ he thought to himself.
A large wooden table sat in the middle of the room, there were three chairs placed at the table along with a pen and a glass of water.
Sporrenberg gestured to the table, “Sit, please have a drink, you have a big performance ahead of you.” The Ex-SS man smiled again.
Westmoreland looked Sporrenberg dead in the eye for the first time, “How is this broadcast going to reach all of our troops? You are blocking our communications.”
“Don’t concern yourself with such trivial matters, we have that all in hand. Just concentrate on the terms of the surrender and what you are going to say.”
Westmoreland looked through the terms, they were not good for his nation but there was nothing that could be done, if he did not sign the document then the war would consume his country and his people would all be killed. The General tried to justify his actions to himself.
Just after 02.00 Atlantic time, a TV and radio broadcast went out over all channels. The screen snapped into life to show a room decorated in Nazi flags. General Sporrenberg appeared in front of the camera.
“Rejoice America, the war is finally over. This morning in this very room you will witness history being made, the dawn of a new era. Feel proud that you get to bear witness to this!”
The camera changed again to show a very weary looking General Westmoreland sitting at the table, the bags under his eyes were so dark and it looked like he had aged ten years in a single night. He sat and stared into the camera while the cigarette hanging from his mouth continued to burn.
Two men sat at the table opposite the General, one was Sporrenberg and the other was his trusted Advisor.
“Advisor A, please will you present the General with terms.”
The tall advisor did not say a word but just slid the surrender documents over to Westmoreland.
The American General sighed and then quickly picked up the pen and scribbled his signature everywhere he was instructed. When he finished he threw the pen back down and it bounced off the table.
General Westmoreland turned to the camera and he started to speak in a slow and methodical manner.
“Tonight I, on behalf of the United States of America have signed the unconditional surrender of our armed forces. Washington DC has fallen and for us, the fight is over, as you listen to this I urge you to put down your weapons.” Westmoreland paused and took a long drag from his cigarette.
“All armed forces personnel that surrender will no longer be killed on the spot. If you turn yourselves into the nearest Aryan units you will be treated with respect. You will be taken for processing and will have to work for a living but at least you will get to live.” He sighed, “If you continue to fight then you will be dealt with extreme force. You will be killed on the spot and if your family is captured, they will also be killed.”
The General looked straight into the cameras, “You are to treat your new commanders with the utmost respect and will do what they ask. You are welcome to keep some of your personal belongings and your money will remain your own.”
“However some of your possessions will be taken by the Aryan forces, you are to comply with these requests implicitly.”
The broadcast continued for another five minutes, troops who had been fighting all across the United States could not believe what they were hearing. Some chose to fight on but others laid down their arms; they were quickly arrested and transported to freshly set up labor camps.