Author's Note: Treyarch owns everything you read here, except Erwin Rommel and the Luger and the Colt .45 as well as the OSS

Enjoy!

The Fall of Samantha Maxis

Berlin, September 21, 1939

The banging on the door shook the doctor from his train of though. He reached for his weapon instinctively, his hand cradling the smooth wooden grip of his Luger in a shelf under his desk.

"Who is there?" he shouted, flicking off the safety of his sidearm. He suspected trouble.

"General Erwin Rommel!" The reply was short and crisp. "Unlock the door, Ludwig."

Ludwig Maxis sighed heavily, taking his hand off of his weapon. He walked toward the heavy oak door and turned the lock. As soon as he did, Rommel strode in, clad in his dress uniform, hat and all.

Maxis saluted, but Rommel patted Maxis on the shoulder and took a seat in the overstuffed guest chair. "We know each other too well for that kind of formality, my friend." Rommel now relaxed, leaning back and removing his hat.

Maxis shut the door and took a seat behind his desk, waiting for his long time acquaintance to begin.

"Well, Ludwig. I have news for you."

"Please do tell," Maxis leaned forward, interested. Rommel was a serious man. Good natured, but serious all the same. So when Rommel came all the way here to tell his former brother in arms that there was important news, it was to be taken very seriously.

Rommel removed an envelope from the pocket of his dress coat and placed it on the desk in a single motion, smiling while he did it. "The project had been approved. Congratulations, Doctor Maxis."

Maxis couldn't believe it. He tore open the envelope and read the executive order himself. The letter was short and non-descriptive, as the project was to be very secret.

Doctor Ludwig Maxis,

I have read about your findings in Tunguska and I am intrigued by the possibility of what your have suggested. Therefore your request, despite requiring an exorbitant amount of manpower and resources, has been approved. You will be contacted when we are ready for you to begin. Congratulations, Doctor. You are about to make history. Make your country proud, Ludwig.

Cordially, Adolf Hitler.

Maxis was in shock. There was no way his theory would every be accepted anywhere in the Fatherland, for that's what he was told by fellow scientists. And now he was about to make history.

Rommel extended a hand. "I will contact you when we are ready to begin. Let's make history, old friend."

Maxis grasped his hand firmly, his adrenaline pumping for the first time since his daughter was born.

With that, Rommel placed his hat back onto his thinning head of hair and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Maxis paced around the room for several minutes, too exited to simply sit down, running all of the posibilities through his head. Eventually, he fell into a corner, holding the letter to his chest like it was a newborn child. He was never going to let go of the piece of paper that had changed his life forever.

You are about to make history.

Washington D.C., September 22, 1939

The conference room was veiled in black, with the exception of the long Walnut table in the center, dimly illuminated by a pair of candles. The room was spotless, as it was scrubbed down after every meeting so that the public would never know of what transpired here. Two men sat opposite of one another in the darkness, unable to see each other's features, only enough to know that there was, in fact, another man in the room.

This was the point. Neither one was to ever know the identity of the other. The man on the left had been told that the man on the right was to be called Peter. Nothing more, just Peter. Consequently, the man on the right had been told that the man on the left was John. Just John. They had even entered the room at the exact same predetermined time to avoid any possible interaction.

Peter began in a slow drawl. "We have received word that Maxis was informed of the project yesterday."

John matched his monotone. "Very good. Are we to proceed as planned?"

"Yes. You are to travel to the Asylum tonight and await further instructions."

Peter reached down and grabbed an unmarked briefcase, sliding it across the table to John. John grabbed it and pulled it out of sight immediately.

"Godspeed, John."

With that the two of them left, neither one looking back.

John continued into the hallway outside, making for the exit. He already knew what was in the case.

There was a fake passport, means to contact the OSS, cash from a local slush fund, and a Colt .45.

John pulled on his trench coat and hat, tugging each of them as close to his person as he could as he walked out the front door. The clothing was German made, and he had perfected his German in the years of preparation for the next few months. It had all come down to this. He was heading towards the local train station to begin the first leg of his journey, taking a brisk pace to hurry through the rainy D.C. weather.

He was only thinking about one last thing. The .45 in his bag.

He had only eight rounds in the gun and no spare magazines. For if he got into a firefight, he had already failed his mission.

Seven rounds were for warding off attackers should he get ambushed. The final bullet would be for himself.

Author's Note:Please comment and watch for more chapters!