The Assassination Of Rasputin

The state of TIAH

December 16th, 2006

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Alternate Historian's Note: Stephen Payne provides the alternate history as we begin the second half of our NaNoWriMo novel. We hope you are enjoying this change in format – let us know how you feel about it in comments or by emailing us. This will be the format of TIAH throughout the holiday season, unless we receive a great outcry about it. Speaking of the Holiday Season, keep in mind those who need help year-round and keep yourselves safe and happy, as well. And, should you feel generous inclinations towards our guest historians, you can visit the sites of those who have separate ones from TIAH; generosity towards us here at the Academy is always appreciated, too, and you can find ways to help us out all over the site. Right now, we'd appreciate a lead on a good day job, but my lovely Co-Historian could also use some more memory on her PC, if anyone feels generously inclined. (It's PC133-style – yes, it's an old machine). Any good wishes you have towards us can be emailed here.

in 0, a sense of raw energy is gripping the town of Bayt La (Bethlehem). Mullah Elijah Rafsanjani can discern it very strongly. The miracle of birth tends to do that. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 1916, the Russian mystic Grigory Rasputin (trans. 'ill-behaved child') is assassinated by a group of nobles led by Prince Felix Yusupov at the Yusupov Palace in St Petersburg. Rasputin played an important role in the lives of the Tsar Nicholas II, his wife the Tsaritsa Alexandra, and their only son the Tsarevich Alexei, who was believed to suffer from hemophilia. Less than a year later during Red October, it was revealed that the Tsarevich was actually another victim of the blood-sucking vampirism sweeping Russia. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

in 1944, the Battle of the Bulge engages the forces of General Dwight D. Eisenhower and Field Marshall Gerd von Rundstedt in the Belgian Ardennes. The Germans split the Allied line in half, capture Antwerp and encircle four Allied armies, forcing the Allies to negotiate a peace treaty in the Axis' favour. The attack was planned in total secrecy, in almost total radio silence and not detected by Ultra. -entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge!-

After
The cold air felt good on Janice's face as they drove. The chill gave her an excuse for the shivers she was unable to control.
“I can't believe we're not waiting for the police,” Kevin was saying from the front seat.
“We can't stick around for them, Bradley. There'd be too many questions, and they'd want to take at least Janice into custody. And that's not happening today.” Jake looked into his rear-view mirror to catch her eyes, and she gave him a weak smile. “Are you doin' all right back there, Janice?”
“I'll make it,” she shouted over the wind whipping into her face. She felt a little ashamed of herself for breaking down like this; she'd seen a murdered person before. Of course, that was someone she was investigating, not someone she had met and talked to. And theirs had been a clean death, not like...
Kevin was not happy at all. First, they had convinced him to go up against the government, and now they were running from the law. The section of his brain devoted to values was going haywire. He just wanted to tell them to stop and let him out. But, they couldn't afford to let him leave, now. No, he knew too much about them. He wished he'd shot her on that roof instead of listening to her.
But, he'd seen. He'd seen the president, live as could be, strolling around his ranch as if nothing had happened. And, that was eating away at him, too.
“Janice, when we hit the checkpoint at Pflugerville, I want you to stay covered up, just like before, OK?” Jake was planning. He hadn't had a chance to use tactics since they moved him stateside after the Gulf War. This was all a little beyond what he had experience with, but he was going to be ready for anything. “They won't question us, since we're supposed to be coming back from Waco, anyhow.”
“You got it, Jake,” she said, and turned away from the window. Her face was uncomfortably numb, so she rolled the window up. She was glad they were in a covered jeep. She put a hand on the sergeant's shoulder and asked, “Hey, how are you doing?”
“I've seen dead bodies before.”
She nodded and squeezed his shoulder. “That poor kid.” She let the road carry them for a few minutes before saying, “You know, I'm not entirely sure that guy was just crazy, in spite of what the people in the diner said.” When they had recovered themselves after the initial shock of finding Miss Raintree, they had asked about her supposed killer in the diner. Everyone in there had been of the opinion that he was no good – tattoos, long hair, rough face – and were not surprised that the young lady he had taken back to his room had ended up dead. “What if someone's been watching us?”
Jake thought about that for a minute. “Did you tell anybody about the motel?”
“No, but they could have figured it out. I think I gave too many clues as to where I was.”
“Then we better watch our backs.”
“If that's the case,” Kevin said, looking over at them, “Should we really be headed to your ex-wife's? We don't want the same thing to happen to them, do we?”
“I got a couple of ideas about that,” Jake said. “But, we'll have to wait till we get there. I don't wanna call her again. That'll put a spotlight on her.”

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