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Book One World War Three 1946

Book One World War Three 1946
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Sunday, August 19, 2012

Perl of Wisdom

Well here he was in the Worker’s Paradise on the other side of the Ural Mountains. Not much but it beat a jail of firing squad back in the good old USA. It was early Fall so the cold had not set in yet. He heard it was much colder here than Cleveland even at its worse.

William Perl was in his element. The jet engine he was examining was close to the ones he had worked on for months at the NACA Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory. And now he was in Russia for god’s sake. Well it was his own fault for listening to Barr and Sobell. Maybe he should regain his real name of Mutterperl. It might be easier to hide his past.

He’ll let the NKVD worry about that. He spent most of his time translating the English instructions so that they could follow the schematics he has provided over the years. He helped out with the metallurgy as well even though that was not his expertise. He made it become one…along with many others he dreamed of doing in the US. He was free here to do what he wanted just as long as he got results, and results he got.

He was unleashed here. Not held back by the older engineers in Ohio. Here he was the big shot and they listened to him. Maybe that’s what he wanted all along…to be the big shot. Is that why he became a Communist? Seems strange to pine for what was supposed to be an egalitarian society so that you could finally be in charge.

Compared to the average worker he was treated like a king here, which wasn’t saying much. He did have a great looking wife. He suspected that she was an agent sent to spy on him but she was a good actress and it was easy to believe she loved him. Man was she good in bed. He didn’t know such things could be done. And those legs went on for miles. He was head over heels and an egghead like him would never get a girl like that in the states or any girl for that matter. So yeah she had to be a spy. But what the hell, He had nothing to hide here.

He estimated that within 6 months they would be cranking out these engines on an industrial scale with that spooky Sergo guy working the angles. He only saw him once. Weird looking little guy to have all this power. I guess Stalin saw the potential and let the guy loose. His henchman Georgie was a another matter. That guy got things done like no man he had ever seen even better than Boeing or Ford he bet. Certainly he was bigger. The guy was 6’ 6” and 300lbs. His voice was the loudest thing he ever heard besides this jet engine.
Most of the time he didn’t have to yell at all or even speak. He would just look and point and whatever it was it was fixed right away. No you did not… want to piss him off.

Sticking these engines in the Mig 9 was not the best solution but it would do until Mig came up with that swept wing beauty he had seen. Kind of looked like that German plane he examined…what was that number…oh yeah… the TA 183. That swept back tail that NACA developed should come in real handy on whatever number Mig put on their new creation. It would be a real Shooting Star and Super Fortress killer that’s all he knew.

Hell when the US turned Communist he could go back and be king of the aerospace industry. He’d show those assholes who was in charge alright. It would almost make up for that trip through Mexico to this god forsaken place. God what a disaster of a trip that was. He still didn’t know why he didn’t get caught. He suspected that the Reds had someone on the inside in the OSS.

He’d better get his mind back to work so he could get home quick. Zoya had promised him something special for tonight and he couldn’t wait to get between her long legs once more. Yeah who needed Coca Cola and a Ford when you had a pair of legs like that wrapped around you every night? It was more than an even trade.

Shit if he ever got tired of Zoya I bet they would set him up with a new one. As long as he produced they would provide. He was sure of it.

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