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Now the real story starts...
The reporters were gathered outside Windsor Castle, desperate for a glance of the new King. Rumours had already been circulated that a military man had been away on operations during the blast, and was the highest surviving member in the line of succession. His name was Nicholas Windsor - the name of the Royal Family, and that meant he would be accepted as King without any question. It also showed he was a direct descendent.
Even more wild rumours were circulating that he was in the SAS, and actually so successful as an NCO (non-commissioned officer, highest being Sergeant Major), that he had been promoted to officer - most officers in the SAS were drafted in from other units, having undergone the usual SAS training, and were changed every three or so years to prevent them knowing too much. Only the NCOs and the troopers were kept - an experienced NCO was depended on much more than an officer in the SAS - officers were almost there just to keep an eye on things.
All of Britain were still mourning the loss of London, its people, their relatives and the Royal Family (although not so many missed the politicians), but most were getting excited at the mystery surrounding their new leader.
And so the reporters huddled outside the gates of Windsor Castle. They had heard that it was to be the residence of the King from now on, even after London was rebuilt.
The rain was not letting off, and most had umbrellas, but the rain was coming sideways, carried by the gales. The wind was turning many of their brollies inside out, and some reporters cursed as they tried to right them.
Then it came. The Royal Procession, flanked by helicopters and a flight of Harriers, and led by a huge police escort.
The Royal Limousine had been destroyed by the nuke, so Nick was in the back of a Humvee2 armoured car. As it came to the gates, the reporters desperately stuck their cameras to the window and took pictures, the flashes nearly blinding Nick, but they wouldn’t get much of a picture through the glass - it had been specially tinted to stop such invasions of privacy.
The Hummer raced through the gates, following the police escort, and was followed itself by a long line of more police.
* * * * *
A lone figure emerged through the wind, rain and hail.
A strong figure - he walked with a purpose, as his cape billowed out behind him, pulled by the wind.
The new King, as the public needed to see him - a strong, reassuring person who could sort out the country.
The gates opened dramatically as Nick walked onto the podium that had been erected just outside them.
Flashes lit the night as reporters took the first pictures of King Nicholas, and Nick let them subside before he began - careful to look at the television cameras that were set up in the centre, right in front of him.
“People of Britain, today has been an awful day for our country and the world - today more people were killed at one time than ever before.
“It starts a terrifying precedent for the future, but you need not fear. I will do everything in my power to destroy every enemy of democracy, every enemy of freedom, every enemy of our country!
“The perpetrators of this crime will be found - and they will die a horrible death. Human rights campaigners will quote me on that and call me a war criminal, as they have demonised the President of America for his actions against terrorism. But they can rot for all I care - I will give you, my people, what you want: justice! For how can I be a war criminal, protecting my country by killing the very people who wish to kill all of us?
“We must rebuild, be on our guards, and of course, mourn our dead. My deepest sympathies are with all of you whose families, friends and colleagues died in London and for you to mourn I declare a week of mourning.
“And now, can we have two minutes of silence for the innocent souls who have lost their lives today…”
* * * * *
More to come soon! Comments appreciated, and thanks for reading!
Chris AKA Nemesis
The reporters were gathered outside Windsor Castle, desperate for a glance of the new King. Rumours had already been circulated that a military man had been away on operations during the blast, and was the highest surviving member in the line of succession. His name was Nicholas Windsor - the name of the Royal Family, and that meant he would be accepted as King without any question. It also showed he was a direct descendent.
Even more wild rumours were circulating that he was in the SAS, and actually so successful as an NCO (non-commissioned officer, highest being Sergeant Major), that he had been promoted to officer - most officers in the SAS were drafted in from other units, having undergone the usual SAS training, and were changed every three or so years to prevent them knowing too much. Only the NCOs and the troopers were kept - an experienced NCO was depended on much more than an officer in the SAS - officers were almost there just to keep an eye on things.
All of Britain were still mourning the loss of London, its people, their relatives and the Royal Family (although not so many missed the politicians), but most were getting excited at the mystery surrounding their new leader.
And so the reporters huddled outside the gates of Windsor Castle. They had heard that it was to be the residence of the King from now on, even after London was rebuilt.
The rain was not letting off, and most had umbrellas, but the rain was coming sideways, carried by the gales. The wind was turning many of their brollies inside out, and some reporters cursed as they tried to right them.
Then it came. The Royal Procession, flanked by helicopters and a flight of Harriers, and led by a huge police escort.
The Royal Limousine had been destroyed by the nuke, so Nick was in the back of a Humvee2 armoured car. As it came to the gates, the reporters desperately stuck their cameras to the window and took pictures, the flashes nearly blinding Nick, but they wouldn’t get much of a picture through the glass - it had been specially tinted to stop such invasions of privacy.
The Hummer raced through the gates, following the police escort, and was followed itself by a long line of more police.
* * * * *
A lone figure emerged through the wind, rain and hail.
A strong figure - he walked with a purpose, as his cape billowed out behind him, pulled by the wind.
The new King, as the public needed to see him - a strong, reassuring person who could sort out the country.
The gates opened dramatically as Nick walked onto the podium that had been erected just outside them.
Flashes lit the night as reporters took the first pictures of King Nicholas, and Nick let them subside before he began - careful to look at the television cameras that were set up in the centre, right in front of him.
“People of Britain, today has been an awful day for our country and the world - today more people were killed at one time than ever before.
“It starts a terrifying precedent for the future, but you need not fear. I will do everything in my power to destroy every enemy of democracy, every enemy of freedom, every enemy of our country!
“The perpetrators of this crime will be found - and they will die a horrible death. Human rights campaigners will quote me on that and call me a war criminal, as they have demonised the President of America for his actions against terrorism. But they can rot for all I care - I will give you, my people, what you want: justice! For how can I be a war criminal, protecting my country by killing the very people who wish to kill all of us?
“We must rebuild, be on our guards, and of course, mourn our dead. My deepest sympathies are with all of you whose families, friends and colleagues died in London and for you to mourn I declare a week of mourning.
“And now, can we have two minutes of silence for the innocent souls who have lost their lives today…”
* * * * *
More to come soon! Comments appreciated, and thanks for reading!
Chris AKA Nemesis
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