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Secret Differences { Dark_Times & Mystery }

Mystery

Moon
Joined
Oct 15, 2009
The United States have had a dominant military force since one can remember, but in the 1962, Russia was desperate to have equal, if not more, threat against the US. Russia's nuclear missiles were only strong enough to reach Europe, and in an act of lust for power, Russia placed intermediate-range missiles in Cuba. Along with the Soviet's advantage, Cuba and Fidel Castro was handed dominance as well. For the two countries, it was a win-win situation. For the United States, it was the beginning of a nightmare.

On October 15th of 1962, the crisis began when reconnaissance photographs reveal Soviet missiles under construction in Cuba. It was only until the following day that president John F. Kennedy was informed of the missiles. Hiring 12 of the most important advisors, it took 7 days of debate to come to conclusion that a naval quarantine was the best way to go. The only other option would be an invasion of Cuba, that would lead to a nuclear war and WWIII. The blockade was designed to stop Soviet ships from transporting any more weapons and bombs into Cuba. On October 22nd, the situation was presented by the president to the public. He also proclaimed that any nuclear missile launched from Cuba would be regarded as an attack on the United States by the Soviet Union and demanded that the Soviets remove all of their offensive weapons from Cuba.

John F. Kennedy was one of my idols. Every decision he made, he made to avoid endangering the lives of his people. Because of my peacekeeping-obsessing, I dedicated my life to studying the history of war to fully understand the reason for violence and war itself. I had come to the same conclusion I had had before, that violence must always be the absolute last resort, and that problems can most often be fixed through negotiation, or an alternative that avoids war and violence. I was an activist and tried to do everything I could to get my message across. I always find myself at a loss when people think they need weapons and violence to solve their problems. But then again, there is always the word power, richness, status. Those very human needs seem to manipulate one's judgment in every way. Only the strongest are capable of overcoming it. John F. Kennedy was one of those people.

As the announcement and his speech infested every channel on every television, everyone was waiting, watching, and listening. All of the United States stopped to hear what he has to say. I was in a bar. It was more of a diner. It had a bar, but it was more of a place to hang out with friends and to get a great steak or hamburger. It was always busy since it was open until 1AM. There were several pool tables, dart boards, and plenty of alcohol to go around. Though, that night, I was alone. I had been held up at university, late for work, and I had to work over-time. It was past 12, and I was starving and had a craving for their food. I was an independent person. I never saw going out alone as something someone with no life did, and I didn't fear judgment. Because I worked at an expensive restaurant as the secretary, I had to dress professionally. I found it pointless to head home to change, so I went the way I was dressed. I was wearing a tight black pencil dress that hugged my curves and defined my hips. The way the two inch-thick straps tied at my neck mad my breasts push slightly together, giving them great support. The dress finished a bit before my knees and had a small V-neck cut. Around my waist was a satin bow-tied belt. To make the outfit more classy, I wore black nylons and black pointy-toed heels. I had light brown curl hair that fell down past my shoulders.

I had finished eating, and was reading an article with a glass of water in had as the news popped up on the television. My head immediately popped up and I looked at the screen. I placed the glass quickly on the counter of my table and dropped the paper along with it as I watched the screen. I approached the television as fast as I could. â??Turn it up.â? I called out to the man behind the bar. He nodded and leaned over, turning up the volume. All of the members of the bar leaned in and fell silent to listen to the news. I got just about as close as I could get, standing myself next to a man by the bar. I crossed my arms as I listened. As the president mentioned that they would invade if the Soviets were not to turn around, words of worry escaped my lips, â??Shit.â? I mumbled to myself. Others might not have caught on as quickly as I did, but I knew exactly what would happen if there was an invasion. Not only would the Soviets know they were invading, but they would try to stop them. By the time they could invade the missiles would have been constructed, and a war would have started. This would be a war like no other. This war, including nuclear missiles and the two most destructive countries in the world; the United States and Russia. â??If this fails, the world can find themselves up shits creek.â?​
 
Mishka Torratov, or Mike Torreno as he called himself over in the US was a young and brilliant minded Russian, his youth had been spent out in the streets and then in a military training ground. Though tall and rather slender, he was not a man you wanted on the wrong side of you, his father has been a high ranking KGB officer and had passed one some lessons to him. After leaving home, Mishka roamed around, mostly with local gangs, and finally landed himself inside a jail cell, thats how he got the offer to join the military.


The chapters of his life after basic training and before his arrival in the states was shady at best and over here he had no real friends, and so it remains a mystery what they did to him or what he did to them. Whatever it was, it made him good enough to walk right into a US agency job, his orders? To keep his real CO's informed on what the US was doing.

Tonight he was parked on a seat at a bar, the local hangout for the people his age with normal lives, some of them used to try to talk to him but gave up when he never responded to their questions.

The volume on the television went up and he turned to look at it, brushing a strand of his long black hair away from his face. Seeing that it was once again about his homelands actions he paid attention, a sly smile broke out on his face. He adjusted his worn leather jacket and laughed quietly before turning to the woman beside him, "Are we allowed to smoke in here?". He had a well constructed Brooklyn accent, "Just I never seen any signs and I don't know really", he shruged and half smiled.
 
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