Two weeks later.
The Battle of Alma was a devastating loss for the Allied forces. Despite their superior numbers, the Russians were able to defend the port and force the Allies out, leaving them to set up fortifications in anticipation of another attack. The commanding officers of the British forces were left exasperated and bewildered by the outcome.
"How could we have lost to the Russians?" one of the generals questioned, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. "We had every advantage."
"It's a surprising turn of events, to say the least," the other general conceded. "I didn't anticipate the Russians would be so formidable."
Another officer spoke up, his voice hushed with concern. "Reports suggest the Russians are using a new type of rifle that can fire instantaneously without the need for cycling. One soldier recounted that, as they were cocking their rifles, the Russians were simply pulling the trigger multiple times."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the officer, who continued to explain the details of the new weapon. The news was met with mixed reactions of disbelief and concern, for if it was true, it meant the Russian forces had a significant advantage on the battlefield.
"How did they get those weapons?" One of the generals stammered as he asked, still in disbelief of the capability of the Russian rifles.
"We are still looking into it, but I'm sure that they are not made in Russia,"
"It is not made in Russia," a voice chimed in their conversation.
The room fell silent as the commanding officers turned to face the source of the interruption. The figure that entered the room was none other than the Crown Prince of Wales of the British Empire, Prince Alexander Edward James Windsor is known for his impeccable charm and unmatched intelligence.
As he strode confidently into the room, the officers couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at his presence. He was tall and strikingly handsome, with sharp, chiseled features and piercing dark purple eyes that seemed to gaze straight into the soul.
His hair was as dark as the night sky, styled impeccably to perfection. His demeanor exuded an air of sophistication and class, and he moved with a grace that could only be described as regal.
As he approached the group, he extended his hand in a warm greeting.
"Gentlemen, it is a pleasure to see you all," he said, his voice smooth and cultured.
The commanding officers were instantly put at ease by his presence as if all their worries and concerns had suddenly vanished in the presence of such a remarkable individual.
They stood in silent reverence, unable to speak as the Crown Prince surveyed the room with his piercing gaze. It was as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet still managed to maintain an air of effortless confidence.
"We have obtained one of the rifles used by the Russian forces during the battle last week," upon saying that, another officer entered the room carrying the AN-M1 rifles in his hand.
The commanding officers and generals scanned the appearance of the rifle, it was sleek and deadly-looking, with a matte black finish and a scope that seemed to glint in the dim light of the room.
After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Gentlemen, this weapon is unlike anything we've seen before. It is clear that the Russians have obtained technology far beyond our own," he stated, his tone measured yet commanding.
The officers nodded in agreement, their expressions grim. The implications of this new development were significant, as it could be the cause of the defeat of their war against the Russians.
"Luckily, we have found its origins after a long week of investigation. It turned out that it was produced in the United States, by the Axelsen & Nielsen Arms Manufacturing Company. Its main client before the war was the United States Military but when the war erupted, the Russians approached them to acquire thousands of it to be used in their war efforts."
"So it was not the Russians, does that mean that we can purchase them for our own use as well?" One of the generals asked.
"That is certainly that wise move that we must take in order to match the Russians' capabilities in terms of the land battle. But I would like the British Empire to not be independent of foreign-made weapons. This weapon posed a threat to the security of the British Empire. we must invest in our own research and development to create weapons that can rival and surpass those of other nations," the Crown Prince replied firmly.
The officers nodded in agreement, recognizing the wisdom in the Crown Prince's words.
"Your Highness, what would be our next move?" one of the officers asked, eager to hear the Crown Prince's plan.
"We will procure these rifles from the United States, but we will also initiate our own research and development program to create weapons that are superior to anything else in the world. We will not be left behind in this arms race," the Crown Prince declared, his voice ringing with determination.
The Crown Prince continued. "For that, I will personally visit the company that is making those weapons."
The commanding officers and generals were stunned after the Crown Prince said that.
"What do you mean by that, Your Highness?"
"It means what it means, gentlemen. I will visit the Axelsen & Nielsen Arms Manufacturing Company and see for myself the capabilities of their weapons and learn more about their production process," the Crown Prince replied.
"But, Your Majesty, if I may be candid, why should you be the one to negotiate a deal with that arms manufacturing company? Why not send a team there?"
"Well…that's," The Crown Prince trailed off, not wanting to reveal his personal reasons for wanting to visit the arms manufacturing company.
"Your Highness, forgive me for my frankness, but there must be a reason why you want to go there yourself," one of the officers pressed, sensing that there was more to the Crown Prince's plan than met the eye.
"I can't tell you that…"
The Crown Prince's mind was in turmoil as he pondered the upcoming trip to the United States. As he stood there in silence, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt gnawing at him.
"Penelope...what's gotten into you?" he muttered under his breath. "Why must you go to the United States to see the company owners?"
