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fortheloveofwonderland · 7 months

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Midnight | Chapter 17 | S.R

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Chapter Summary - Luke arrives in Crested Butte and meets some locals. Spencer has his own problems to deal with.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - drinking, brief mentions of sex, swearing, bribery, false allegations, sexual abuse. WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

You didn’t remember much about returning to the cabin last night as upon arriving back in Butte you and Spencer had indulged in one two many drinks at The Eldo before finally stumbling home well after midnight.

Judging by the fact your body was sore and you were naked, you’d probably had sex more than once and your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes, but you felt at peace.

Spencer stirred next to you, pulling you closer to his body and kissing your messy hair.

“I swore I’d never drink that much again.” He grumbled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.” You agreed.

“I think that was more my fault than the alcohol. I’m fairly certain we had sex at least five times. And from memory it got pretty rough.” He pulled you even closer.

“Worth it.” You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his chest. “I feel like shit, but I also feel on top of the fucking world.”

“Hmm, me too.” He agreed, nuzzling his face against your head.

“Don’t get excited, I don’t think my body can handle anymore sex right now.”

“Trust me when I say I don’t even think I have the energy to get it up.” He chuckled.

“That is music to my ears right now.” You giggled.

“Give it time, I’m sure there’s only so long I can lay next to a beautiful, naked woman before it happens of its own accord.”

“Fair enough.” You giggled again. “I can handle that. But I never want to drink again in my life.”

“Agreed.” Spencer exhaled before adding. “You know, until next time.”

You snuggled into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and slinging one leg over his. In that moment you felt invincible.

***

McGill’s Diner on Elk Avenue had a traffic camera positioned between the ground and first floor windows, capturing every car that passed by. It was the same camera that had witnessed the little blue Nissan purchased by Andrew Burnett in Franklin County, Virginia, drive up and down the street multiple times over the last week.

With no better place to start, Luke parked up at the curb and headed inside. He was under strict instructions from Prentiss that he was to not treat this like a federal investigation, they had no idea what they were dealing with and they didn’t want to alert the townsfolk to FBI presence. He was simply a concerned friend.

To stave off temptation, he left his creds in the hire vehicle he’d driven the forty minutes from Gunnison-Crested Butte Regional Airport. He did however keep his firearm visible in his holster on his hip.

A little bell chimed above the door as he entered the diner. It was late enough that the breakfast rush was over and early enough for the lunchtime crowd not to have surfaced yet so it was reasonably quiet. There was an older couple in a booth over the back and a younger man and woman sitting at the counter.

Luke made his way over to where a guy around your age was fixing a pot of coffee behind the counter. He looked up when he heard Luke approached and offered him a friendly smile. He wore a green flannel shirt over a black tee which had some kind of stain down it.

“Hi there,” he put down the coffee pot and gave Luke his full attention. “Can I get you a table?”

“No, thanks. I’m actually looking for some people. My friends, I think they might be here.” Luke dove straight in.

“Sure, I might be able to help. Most people come through here even if they're just in town for a day or two. Our coffee is pretty good.”

“Is this your place?”

“No, my dads.” The man wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it towards Luke. “Jesse McGill.”

“Luke Alvez.” Luke shook his hand. “So like I said, I’m looking for my friends. Rose and Andrew Burnett. I can show you pictures if you like?”

“No, that’s ok.” Jesse rolled his lip between his teeth. “I know them. Well, I know her better than him, never really spoken to him but I’ve seen him around.”

“They still in town?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, I guess so. Haven’t seen them for a few days so I can’t be sure. People come and go, you know? This place is a bit of a tourist trap.” Jesse shrugged.

“A ski resort isn’t much of a tourist trap in spring time.” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse, feeling as though the man was hiding something from him. “You know where they’re staying?”

Jesse straightened his back, running a hand through his thick beard while he contemplated how to answer that. Luke could tell he knew exactly where they were staying but for whatever reason, didn’t want to share the information. He knew all it would take to get it out of him would be to flash his FBI badge, but of course Prentiss had ordered him not to.

Jesse was mulling over what you’d told him the other night about Rose not being your real name and not really being married and now a stranger had shown up looking for you, that couldn’t be good.

Something happened and we had to leave our jobs, our homes, that’s what you’d said to him. Were you running from someone, someone like this man in front of him? He didn’t want to risk your safety or betray your trust. He didn’t get a good vibe from this Luke Alvez character.

“No, sorry I don’t.” He shrugged again. “Like I say, haven’t seen them in a few days, they may have already left town.”

Luke wasn’t buying any of this. Jesse knew exactly where you and Spencer were but he wasn’t going to tell Luke. Why, Luke didn’t know, but without his FBI creds to back him up he knew he wasn’t going to get much further. Maybe he’d reassess, call Prentiss and tell her that no one was talking to him and he needed some authority on his side.

“Well, you also said most people come through here right? So I’ll take that table now and a cup of that coffee and I’ll wait.” Luke smiled smugly at him and subtly put his hands on his hips to draw attention to his firearm.

Jesse glanced down at it and the fear he’d felt for your safety only doubled. What the hell kind of trouble were you in and how could he alert you to it without arousing suspicion? For now he nodded, motioning Luke towards a table and following him over with the pot of coffee. He left him alone after that but kept a watchful eye over the stranger in his diner.

Luke pulled out his phone and texted Prentiss to let her know that he’d arrived in the Butte but hadn’t had much luck yet. He sipped the coffee, which he couldn’t deny was pretty incredible and stared at the door as if it would magically open and you would stroll in.

He was only sitting there for about a minute before a young girl with bright red hair who had been sitting at the counter slid into the booth opposite him. She had a curious look in her large green eyes as she leant on the table with her elbows.

“I know Andrew Burnett pretty well.” She cut to the chase.

“Really?” Luke cocked his eyebrow at her.

“We hooked up a few times.” She shrugged, her words causing Luke to pull a face.

“You and S…Andrew?”

“Yep.”

“How old are you?” Luke’s brow furrowed heavily, thinking there was no way Spencer would sleep with this girl.

“Twenty seven.” She sat straight and puffed out her chest but Luke’s disbelieving look caused her to huff. “Fine, I’m twenty two.”

“Yeah, uh, no offence but I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep with a twenty two year old.” Luke clucked.

“Well, he did. More than once.” She smirked smugly. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything because of his little wifey, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”

“Wifey as in Rose?”

“Uh huh, between you and me she seems kinda like a stick in the mud.”

“That stick in the mud is my friend.” Luke scowled at her.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s no better. She might be boring but he has some anger issues.” She picked at one of her nails.

“Anger issues?” Luke frowned, it wasn’t the first time someone had inferred that about Spencer recently.

“Yep. I think he controls Rose, she always seems a little timid round him. And then there was the time he practically threw me against a wall.”

“He…are you sure?” Luke was frowning so hard he felt a headache pinching at his temples.

“Yeah that’s not the kind of thing you forget. He couldn’t keep it up, tried to blame me for it. So I told him he probably couldn’t keep it up because he was old…no offence.”

“None taken.” Luke pulled a face.

“Anyway so he just freaks, gets me up against the wall and yells in my face and I swear he’s going to hurt me.” She finished with a shake of her head.

“Did he?”

“No, but I think he wanted to.”

Luke pulled out his phone and got up a photograph of Spencer which he turned to show the girl.

“Is this the man you’re talking about?”

“Yep, that’s him.” She nodded. “You say you know him, you must know what he’s like.”

“Yeah, see that’s the thing, I don’t know him to be an angry or violent man. So what I’m wondering is maybe you had a little crush on him and he rebuffed you and so you’re making up stories to tarnish him and make yourself feel better.” Luke picked up the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m not five.” She spat. “I know what happened. I was just trying to help but if you don’t need-”

“Ok, Mary, that’s enough now.” She was cut off by a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Jesse standing over her. “You can leave now.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, sliding out of the booth and sulking away. Jesse soon took her place, sitting down opposite Luke and exhaling through his nose.

“Look, I don’t make a habit of agreeing with her, but I think she might be telling you the truth.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Rose told me something bad happened to them and that she had get away and when you strolled in here looking for them, I thought maybe you were the something bad, you know?”

Luke nodded slowly, sitting forward in his seat.

“But you don’t think so now?” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse.

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “You’re a cop right? Shoulda noticed that before, you scream law enforcement.”

“FBI.” Luke whispered so no one else would hear. “I’m not here on official capacity though, I worked with Y/N and Spencer, they’re my friends and I really am just trying to find them.”

“Y/N and Spencer?” Jesse frowned. “She told me Rose wasn’t her real name but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. They’re FBI?”

“They were, until a while ago when they just skipped down.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he shouldn’t be telling Jesse any of this. “You said you thought that kid was telling the truth? Why?”

Jesse exhaled again, looking sceptically at Luke as though he still wasn’t sure he trusted him. He ran his fingers through his beard and pulled a face that Luke couldn’t place.

“When I first met Rose…Y/N, she told me her “husband” was a drunken bully. I got the impression she was scared of him. I asked her if he hurt her and she said no but she did say that he had a temper. He’s a skinny dude but there’s something about him that makes me think he wouldn’t hesitate in kicking someone’s ass. He doesn’t strike me as stable, if that makes sense.” Jesse looked uncomfortable sharing this information, like he was betraying you in doing so.

“It makes absolutely zero sense, but if you knew Spencer Reid, it wouldn't make sense to you either.” Luke shook his head.

“I’m scared for her.” Jesse admitted, leaning on the table and lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “They’re staying on Gothic Avenue, big cabin right at the end. Come out of here and go straight up 4th, take the second right onto Gothic. Keep going for about a half mile and it's the big one on the corner right before the large rec.”

“You did the right thing.” Luke smiled at him, reaching into his pocket and subtly sliding his card across the table which Jesse quickly took. “If you see either of them, please call me.”

“Sure.” Jesse nodded, soon sliding out of his chair and walking away.

Luke downed the rest of the coffee and got to his feet, making quick work of getting outside and back into his hired car and following Jesse’s instructions, drove towards the Gothic Avenue cabin.

But he wasn’t the only one on that particular mission and he didn’t notice the redhead following him outside and heading the same way on foot.

***

It was just before lunch time, after some extremely lazy sex that you finally dragged yourself out of bed, your hunger getting the better of you. But you soon came to find the cupboards were empty.

Spencer bribed you with sexual favours you probably would have gotten anyway, to go down to Scout’s as he physically couldn’t prise himself away from the bed. Reluctantly you’d agreed, taking a quick shower to wash the stench of sex off of you before dressing and heading outside.

You got about a third of the way down Gothic Avenue when you suddenly felt as though you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention and you felt something was wrong in your gut. You picked up your pace, partially wishing you’d had the forethought to bring the Colt with you.

Just before you made it to 4th Street a hand clamped down on your shoulder. You were trained for this. You knew exactly what to do.

Without even so much as taking a breath, you spun quickly on your heels and sent your fist flying into the face of your potential attacker. They stumbled backwards with a loud groan of pain, hands flying to where you’d just punched them in the nose.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He yelped, glaring at you as he held his nose.

You stared at the man you’d hit wide eyed as the air felt like it escaped your lungs.

“L-Luke?” You stuttered, wobbling on your feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” He grumbled. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You repeated.

“Where’s Spencer?” He let go of his nose and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Sorry, I meant Andrew. Andrew Burnett, your husband.” He nodded his head towards the wedding band.

“Goddamnit.” You growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How did you find us?”

“We’re profilers, Y/N. Come on.” He rolled his eyes. “Garcia found Reid’s car. We tracked you to a used car lot and the car you bought with Spencer’s fake licence. We put out an APB on the Nissan and found it had been picked up on cameras in this town several times.”

“Are the rest of the team here?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“No, just me. We’re shorthanded, remember?”

“Good. You need to leave, you have no idea what you’ve walked into.”

“Y/N,” he softened, stepping towards you. “Has Spencer done something? Has he threatened you?”

“What? Why would you think that?” You scoffed.

“I spoke to some people in town and they seem to think he’s this violent, angry man.”

“Who told you that?” You frowned at him.

“That doesn’t matter. You need to tell me what’s going on. You understand that this looks bad, right?” Luke pleaded with you.

“We just wanted to get away. Spencer’s been struggling since prison and I was feeling stifled at the BAU. So we decided it might be a good idea to just get away from it all for a while.” You tried to insist but you knew Luke wasn’t buying it.

“I might believe that if it wasn’t for the burner phones and fake IDs and burnt out cars.” He spat. “You were an FBI agent for a long time, you know what that looks like, don’t you?”

It looks like two criminals on the run. It looks exactly like what it is.

“What are you implying, Luke?” You frowned heavily at him.

“If Spencer has done something, to you or to anyone else, you can tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything.” He looked deep into your eyes and you felt for a brief moment that bond between the two of you.

You could tell him anything, you knew that much. Luke Alvez had done nothing but stick by your side through everything and you knew this would be no different.

You reached up and fiddled with the rose gold heart pendant around your neck. Did you love Spencer enough to protect him from this? Or was this finally your way out?

***

Spencer threw the pillow over his head and groaned deeply as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. The alcohol from last night that still seemed to be drowning his brain cells meant it felt like whoever was knocking was doing so directly against his skull.

His plan had been not to leave this bed all day. His drive to and from South Dakota plus an exuberant amount of sex had drained his energy and the scotch he’d consumed left him feeling dizzy.

The knock came again, followed in quick succession by the doorbell. Whoever it was clearly didn’t plan to go away easily. He groaned, his head spinning as he forced himself out of the comfort of the plush bed. His eyes were blurry and made trying to find any semblance of clothes almost impossible.

As a third knock sounded he managed to locate his boxers and stumbled trying to put them on. His legs wobbled frantically as he slowly crept from the bedroom and down the stairs.

His stomach lurched as he walked and he briefly thought he might throw up but thankfully it passed. He continued through the living room towards the door as the doorbell rang once more.

“Jeez. Alright I’m coming.” He belched rather unceremoniously. “Jesus I’m still drunk.”

He threw open the door, keeping hold of it to help steady himself. He blinked a few times against the bright red assault of colour on his retinas before focusing on her face. He groaned, suddenly wishing he’d made an effort to put more clothes on and that he wasn’t standing here in just his boxers with her on his front porch.

“Fucking hell, what do you want?” He leant against the door jamb, not trusting his wobbly legs to stand unaided.

“Well that’s just rude.” Mary smirked at him and there was something menacing to it. “I just want to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” He stood back up, moving to close the door in her face only in his state she was faster and she shoved her hands against the wood to stop it from closing.

“Oh I think we have a lot to talk about.” Her smirk grew. “Why don’t you invite me in, Spencer Reid?”

***

“You can tell me anything.” Luke repeated when you were silent for some time.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Oh please, Spencer couldn’t hurt a fly and you know it.” You shook your head.

“So he didn’t give you those bruises on your neck?” Luke looked quietly smug.

You unfolded your arms and one of your hands went to your throat. You’d gotten used to them being there if truth be told and didn’t think much of them most of the time.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You brushed your fingers over the bruises.

“Oh really? Because to me it looks like he tried to strangle you.” Luke hissed.

“Fucking christ, Alvez,” you spat back, grinding your teeth furiously. “You really want me to stand here and tell you I like it when he puts his hand around my throat when he fucks me?”

You swore you saw the exact moment Luke’s heart shattered in his chest. His eyes softened and he stumbled backwards, his mouth falling open as a pain washed across his face. You instantly regretted your harsh choice of words but it was too late.

“You’re…you’re sleeping with him?” He couldn’t hide the upset from his voice despite how hard he tried.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “We’re, uh, together I guess.”

“You are aware he’s sleeping with some young redhead, right?” Spencer spat.

“What? How do you know about Mary?” You glared at him.

“I met her! She told me that Spencer got aggressive with her when he couldn’t get it up. I didn’t believe her at first but then that McGill guy said you’d told him that your “husband” was a bully.” Luke sounded exasperated.

“You talked to Jesse?” You spat. “Luke, you had no right! You had no right to follow us here in the first place. We’re happy here, just let it go.”

“Happy? Happy?” He scoffed, stepping towards you. “You’ve got a fucking trail of bruises around your neck and I’m starting to think they aren’t the only ones.”

Before you could reply, Luke was grabbing one of your hands and pushing the sleeve of the pink wool sweater up your arm revealing more finger shaped bruises circling your wrist.

“Goddamnit, conejito, really? You’re happy? You’re happy being abused?” He dropped your arm and stepped back, sadly shaking his head.

“It’s not abuse, jeez. We like rough sex Luke, so what?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking about you and Reid’s sex life.”

“Are you jealous?” You scowled at him. “Are you jealous because he’s got all you ever wanted?”

He frowned at you, looking at you like he didn’t recognise you anymore, like he was standing in front of a stranger. He took a step back, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Maybe once this is what I wanted, yeah. But you aren’t the same person anymore, are you? You’re not my conejito.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“I was never your conejito, Luke.” You spat. “You need to leave, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what’s going on. What has Spencer done? What are you scared of, Y/N?” Luke begged.

“Spencer has done nothing but love me! We wanted a fresh start, away from the BAU and all the bullshit. I don’t need you anymore Luke, I don’t need you protecting me. Let me go, for the love of god just let me go!” You raised your voice.

“I think something happened,” he stepped closer to you. “I think Spencer did something really bad and you’re covering for him because you’re scared. You don’t need to be scared, Y/N. Just tell me what he’s done and I can help you.”

He reached for you but you slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me. Spencer has done nothing wrong, Jesus just because you’re an FBI agent doesn’t mean you always have to think like one. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one. And in this case it’s as simple as we wanted to get away and we knew we’d never be able to do that as Y/N Y/L/N and Spencer Reid.” You growled at him, your back well and truly up.

“You’re lying.” He bit back. “I know you better than you know yourself and I know when you’re lying. We’re the best goddamn profilers in the world and I swear to you, Y/N, we will find out what he’s done and we will come for him. Don’t let yourself become collateral damage.”

“Burden of proof.” You shrugged, a wry smile on your face. You remembered so well having a conversation with Spencer in his apartment about the same subject not so long ago. “You say you’re the best goddamn profiliers in the world, but so are me and Spencer. And if, hypothetically, he'd done something, do you really think he’d leave behind any evidence?”

“You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just tell me what I need to know.” Luke continued to plead with you.

“You need to know nothing, except for the fact Spencer and I love each other and we are in this together until the bitter end. So why don’t you hop back on the jet and leave us the fuck alone.” You spat so venomously that Luke was actually a little scared of you.

“You’ve changed.” He shook his head sadly.

“And you never will.” You pushed past him on the sidewalk, deciding to forgo Scout’s in lieu of going home.

Your blood was boiling in your veins as you marched back towards the cabin, furious at the BAU for tracking you down, angry at Luke for coming all the way out here.

But it was only the beginning.

***

“What do you want from me?” Spencer sat on the couch while Mary stood over him, wishing he weren’t still tipsy and clouded by last night's scotch.

“I want to know why two FBI agents are hiding out in our town using fake names.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to insist but he wasn’t able to control his facial expressions the way he normally would.

“Does the name Luke Alvez mean anything to you?” She scrutinised him and Spencer fought with his expression not to give anything anyway but the scotch was in control.

“No.” He shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you.” She spoke in a sickly sweet tone. “Because I met him and he seems pretty convinced that you and Rose…or should I say Y/N are FBI agents who just dropped their whole lives and ran off without a trace.”

She met Luke? Luke is here? Why the fuck is Luke here? What the hell is happening?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Let’s try this again,” she came closer to him. “And I swear to god if you’re not honest with me…”

“What? You'll do what?” He scoffed at her.

“I’ll tell everyone the truth about who you are.” She shrugged.

“And you think they’d believe you?” He chuckled. “You think they will believe a story as convoluted as this? Sweetheart, they will think you’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mary shrugged. “Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me.”

Spencer stared at her in utter horror of what she was saying but she looked nothing by smug. His heart started hammering so hard in his chest he felt even sicker than he already had done. He searched for a sign she was bluffing but saw none.

He was taken back to an interrogation room at a woman’s correctional facility. He could see her so clearly in front of him, Cat Adams telling him she was pregnant with his child. He could hear her wicked voice in his ears.

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.

“W-what?” He stammered. “That’s not the kind of thing you lie about.”

“Tell me the truth then.” She shrugged.

“I’m not telling you shit.” He shook his head, pushing himself up to his wobbly legs.

“Well then, I guess I’ll go. Who should I start by telling? My dad? My brothers?” She started towards the door but Spencer quickly moved and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, somehow able not to fall flat on his face.

“Listen you little bitch,” he shook her by her arm, growling in her face. “Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?”

“You know you’re not helping yourself right? If you bruise me it’ll only make my story seem more believable.” She glanced at his hand on her wrist and he quickly let her go. “And don’t think I haven’t seen the bruises on your lovely wife. I’m sure she would back up my story.”

“The only story she would back up is the one where you’re a desperate little whore who shamelessly wanted to fuck a man you perceived to married.” He snapped at her.

“Well I guess we’ll see won’t we? Who’s going to believe the strange out of towner over the young, innocent girl.” She pouted.

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look.

“What do you want? Why do you care who I really am? Fine, if it’s going to shut you up, yes, my name is Spencer Reid. I was an FBI agent and so was Y/N. We changed our names and left town. Why do you even care?” He sighed in exasperation.

“I guess FBI agents make pretty good money, right?” She mused and Spencer felt his stomach coil into knots at the insinuation.

“That’s what this is about? You want money?” He scoffed.

“I told you I want out of this town. I work three jobs and I am nowhere close to having enough. Finding out your little secret is the best thing that could have happened to me. So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me. Ten grand should do it.” Her smirk grew tenfold and Spencer felt the anger rising throughout his whole body.

But his brain was still clouded in a thick fog of alcohol. If he’d been at full capacity he would have easily been able to figure a way out of this, but right now all he could think of was killing Mary. The only problem with that was his guns and hunting knife were upstairs.

He could strangle her to death, feeling as she took her last breath. But he knew better, even in his state, that killing someone close to home would only come back to bite him in the ass. He’d been so careful up until now and he couldn’t ruin everything because of this stupid bitch. There had to be another way.

Mary was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, much like he was. He’d tricked everyone in this town into thinking he was just the mild mannered Andrew Burnett here with his wife to escape the big city. But in reality he was a violent killer, an injustice collector of sorts. Maybe Mary was his karma and now was his time to pay up.

“Let’s just talk about this, please?” He begged her, eyes flickering somewhere off to the side as he sensed a movement by the kitchen.

“No, no more talking.” She shook her head, clearly not noticing he was distracted. “You pay me now or I will go straight to the cops.”

If she heard the sound of the gun being cocked, it was too late. And then suddenly the reverberation of a single gunshot filled the room and the bullet pierced straight through the back of Mary’s head, exiting between her eyes and continuing into the wall next to the front door.

The last sound Mary made was a small gasp as she collapsed on the floor in a pool of her own blood at Spencer’s feet. The shock was written all across his face as he looked up at you, still holding the smoking gun in your hand.

You tucked it in your waistband and strolled closer to Spencer whose mouth was hanging open and wide eyes glared at you in a stupor.

“W-what did you…? Why did you?” He croaked out as you stepped closer, not a single hint of remorse in your eyes.

“Karma’s a bitch.” You shrugged simply. “And so was she.”

Hahaha, this is about you.

Beware, beware, be sceptical,

Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold.

Deceit so natural,

But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.

Baa baa, black sheep, have you any soul?

No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals?

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,

Jill's a little whore, and her alibis are dirty tricks.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Aware, aware, you stalk your prey,

With criminal mentality.

You sink your teeth into the people you depend on,

Infecting everyone, you're quite the problem.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, you better run and hide,

I smell the blood of a petty little coward.

Jack be lethal, Jack be slick,

Jill will leave you lonely, dying in a filthy ditch.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Maybe you'll change,

Abandon all your wicked ways,

Make amends and start anew again.

Maybe you'll see,

All the wrongs you did to me,

And start all over, start all over again.

Who am I kidding?

Now, let's not get overzealous here,

You've always been a huge piece of shit.

If I could kill you, I would,

But it's frowned upon in all fifty states.

Having said that, burn in hell, yeah.

Oh, oh, oh.

So tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

#spencer reid #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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infinitegalahad · 1 year

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AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - EPILOGUE

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Indentifying! Reader Summary: Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Warnings are very spoiler, so well...be warned! Cancer, death, alcoholism, mentions of suicide (not by main characters and is mentioned once at the end), and overall a very bittersweet ending. Beware! This is in fact sad! Notes: for real, the end? it's here. not going to lie, i did get a little emotional writing this. the epilogue is loosely inspired by american prometheus, which made me cry in it's epilogue, just as it is doing to me now. this story has been such a rollercoaster, and I've had an amazing time writing it. thank you all for the amazing support, you guys really rock. I'm starting school soo and I'll be busy, but I'll get back into writing once i find my routinr. i hope you can enjoy this conclusion, and as a warning, apologies in advance! I love you all very much, and thank you so much for all the love! Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelby @chloriine36 @kodzuvk @amanda08319 Taglist | Masterlist

Marriage Certificate

Jurisdiction: Charlottesville, Virginia

Certificate Number: MCS123456789

Date of Marriage: June 1st, 1955

This is to certify that on the aforementioned date, in accordance with the laws of the City of Charlottesville, the following individuals entered into marriage:

Groom:

Name: Julius Robert Oppenheimer

Date of Birth: April 22, 1904

Residence: 91 Olden Lane

Bride:

Name: (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/l/n)

Date of Birth: (Y/dob), 1921

Residence: 105 Ivy Dr

Marriage Ceremony:

Date and Time: June 1st, 1955, at 5:00 PM

Officiant: Dr. Allen Hill

Title: Authorized Officiant

Witnesses:

Name: (y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n)

Address: 10 Pennsylvania Avenue

Name: Hatomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

Address: 600 Dittmar Oaks

Under penalty of perjury, the undersigned parties declare that the information provided above is true and correct to the best of their knowledge.

Signatures:

_____________________________ _____________________________

Julius Robert Oppenheimer (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/L/N)

Groom's Signature Bride's Signature

_____________________________

Dr. Allen Hill

Officiant's Signature

_____________________________ _____________________________

(y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n) Hitomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

Witness's Signature Witness's Signature

Seal: City of Charlottesville, Virginia

–

You and Robert married the same day of your graduation at UVA on June 1st, 1955. You let your parents know about your marriage and plans to move to Princeton. It took them time to process that you married your Physics Professor, but they accepted it once they met Robert and were impressed. They also enjoyed that you were only a train ride away from the city of Princeton.

Robert kept to his promise of no more games. He stayed loyal and steadfast and was honest and loving to you. He doted on and adored you, showering you with both affection and gifts. You had kept all of the gifts he had given you at Berkeley, occasionally using the new perfumes if you couldn’t look for all of the new floral scents Robert had bought for you. Despite you both being busy with your jobs at Princeton and the local private high school, you two found time for each other.

Your time together reminded you of those Friday study sessions at Berkeley, where you were a young girl and Robert was your professor who had been struck by “one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen”. Robert had helped you become a woman, and despite how many times you and he tried to move, you always fell back to each other.

With your newfound marriage, you and Robert could be in public together. Of course, there was scrutiny and controversy of the age gap and both of your involvement with the Manhattan project. Still, Robert could hold your hand, and you could lean on his shoulder. Sure, there stares, but those could easily be ignored. At the many lavish dinners you attend, Robert would put his hand on your hip and whisper into your ear nothing but sweet yet dirty thoughts. You’d look at all of the judgemental onlookers, and simply hugged Robert, brightly smiling at them.

It was one of those nights. It was like your Friday nights, but extended; talking about the day full of academics, making a delicious dinner, cleaning up said dinner, fucking either by the fire or on the bed, and lazing in each other’s embrace.

You had your back curled to Robert as he held you. That one night, he let go for a short second, before you felt a cold metal on your neck and the sound of a clink of a clasp.

“I saw this, and it made me think of you and the Bhagavad Gita,” Robert explained as he moved your hair back forward, “Do you like it?”

The necklace was a short gold chain with a pendant of the seven Chakras. You run your hand hovering the expensive gold and gems inside, smiling to yourself. You turn to Robert and place a peck on his lips, admiring the beautiful necklace.

“It’s beautiful, Robert. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

You repeat this sentence over and over as you wrap your arms around his neck, throwing him down to the bed and decorating his body with kisses. Ultimately, the two of you end of lovemaking once again, and remind yourselves to rewash the sheets. Again.

The next week, you are forced to rewash your sheets as Robert, per usual, fucks you after the University of Washington last minute declines his offer to speak at their commencement ceremony. Like old times, you claw your nails down his neck and scream his name until he finishes inside of you, making your belly feel all warm. You smile and hope, for once, there’s some good news for the future continuation of you and Robert.

It takes many tries, but on January 5th of 1958, you give birth to Thaïs Jackie Oppenheimer. She’s a healthy baby girl. You nearly died giving birth, but it was worth seeing her curl into Robert’s arms as if it were a natural instinct. Even as a child, she’s got the blue Oppenheimer’s eyes and your fiery personality. After Thaïs birth, you remained in the ICU for a while. In a window outside of your room, you would see Robert in the distance as he overlooked Thaïs bed, talking to her and promising her nothing but the world. In your recovering pain, it made you cry.

Eventually, you returned back to work as a school-teacher, splitting your time with the au-pair while taking care of Thaïs. She’s a very vocal child, and like Robert, highly precocious. By the time she’s six, she can name every rock and flower in your garden by their scientific name. Not to mention, she can hold more basic conversation in Latin and Greek than you, thanks to Robert and his bedtime stories of Ancient Latin and Greek myths.

Dinner is a family affair. As the three of you all cook, you find it hard to keep up with Robert and Thaïs’s long conversation that switches between Greek and Latin, ranging from what to next in meal prep, the rocks Thaïs’s collected at school today, and what toy Robert will buy her next if she behaves. You can follow the basics, but you smile and keep yourself, cooing and kissing your newborn baby boy, Elias.

Each night, Robert worships you like you’re a goddess. As you read his book recommendations, he decorates your body with kisses and calls you his “temple”, thanking you for being the Athena to his Prometheus and giving him life. You could not be happier.

But bliss is temporal, not everlasting.

First, it’s the apparent hoarseness. Robert thinks it’s cold, but that’s until he’s coughing up blood two weeks later. Also, with the neck and ear pain, you grow worried, and unfortunately, your worst fears come to light. Robert’s heavy smoking did not help his case, and in late 1965, he was diagnosed with throat cancer.

You had quit smoking a long time ago, long before the birth of your children, but Robert continued. Since you had met him, he had always been a smoker no matter what, falling from a cigarette pack to multiple pipes a day. The cancer is infectious and both of you know it’s in fact very bad, and it’s only going to continue to get worse but not fast, but slowly and painfully. Robert has a persistent cough in which he tries to hide from you and the children but fails to. His skin becomes as gray as his thinning hair, and he’s losing weight faster than you can count.

After his diagnosis, there are many sleepless nights between you and Robert. You are both worried about each other in your own ways. One particular night, Robert sits on the edge of the bed. The bones in his back are visible, and you feel like you can see the bones in his back. He’s handsome, but so terribly sick all at once. Crawling from under the sheets, you quietly crawl toward him and hug him from behind. You sob into his shoulders, and he grabs your arms.

“Stop worrying,” He reassures you as he kisses your shaking palm, “You’ll be okay, love.”

“Robert, stop. It’s not about me. It’s about you,” You sob uncontrollably, “I’m scared, Robert. Not for you, for me.”

That night, Robert holds you and tells you that things will improve. He doesn’t promise it, though.

In late 1966, Robert underwent surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, which were all unsuccessful.

Robert has done so much for you and protected you from so much. Now, it’s your turn to do so.

When he breaks the news that, realistically, he’s going to die within the next six months, you and his plan to bring Thaïs and Elias to Saint John.

Robert can’t do the things he used to do. Robert is still as handsome as he always has been, but he’s more frail and sickly looking, a shell of the man he once was. The only thing he can do is spend time with you and his children, valuing his time, which is running out faster than he can count. He builds wooden lodges with houses with Elias, collects seashells and rocks with Elias, and lies in your lap as you read him all of the old books and Greek myths the two of you used to read together.

Robert tries to make you a Martini one night, but he struggles in the kitchen. A glass drops and you run in, to find both of his hands shaking. He confesses to you that he can’t keep his hands still, and he can’t stop apologizing after. You smile, holding back tears, telling him it’s okay.

You, Robert, and your family soon return to Princeton. At that time, you call and invite people who are close to you, Robert, so he gets the chance to say goodbye. Kitty and his children come by. They're as devastated as you are, but they thank you. Kitty, for the first time, cries in front of you, and says you have a beautiful family; thanking you for taking care of Robert. You break down in front of her, and Kitty hugs you.

It’s clear that Robert’s in his final days of life. He can’t remember or speak coherently as he used to. Your children are very aware of this, and you prepare them for the worst that is to come.

It’s nighttime, and Robert’s in bed, saying he’s going to read a book that you’d enjoyed. You make him peppermint tea downstairs to help him fall asleep. As you make the tea, you can hear Robert’s horse voice as he talks to their children. If you bend your ear further, you can hear his voice shaking as he tells his children that he loves them more than anything, and to treat you, their mother, with nothing but love and respect.

You go upstairs with the tea you’ve prepared for Robert. He thanks you and smiles as if he’s seen you for the first time, refusing to let go of your hand with a weak grasp. As you change quickly into your pajamas, you jump into bed with him and hold him carefully, not wanting to hurt him.

“Sweetling?” He says your term of endearment in a sing-song voice. You look up, fully attentive.

“Yes, Oppie?”

With a trembling hand, he holds out an aged navy book with gold print; Hades and Persephone.

“Can you please read this to me?”

Once you grasp the book, tears begin to form in your eyes. As much as you want to cry, you hold your tears back and nod your head. Leaning against Robert, you open to the book’s preface and see all of his annotations inside. Some of them are about you. You’re about to start reading when Robert, in his classic fashion, grabs your hand and holds it to his chest.

“Y/n?”

You don’t look over as you close your eyes.

“Yes, Robert?”

“I love you, y/n”

A tear falls down your cheek, but you don’t let Robert see it.

“I love you too, Robert.”

That night, Robert falls into a coma. Three days later, he dies. He was sixty-two years old.

Once you have the funeral and dump his ashes into the US Virgin Islands water, you and your two children move down to Williamsburg, Virginia. You don’t want to be in Princeton anymore, as if it reminds you of Robert. Your family recommends you move back to New York City or Charlottesville, but you refuse; they all have Robert’s name written on it.

In Williamsburg, you grieve heavily at losing your first and only love, but motherhood keeps you busy. You get a job as an assistant professor at William and Mary, and just as you usually do, you cope with the pain until it becomes numb, losing yourself in your work and children. It’s what Robert would want for you.

Each night, after you make dinner by yourself, you go to your room and drink, reading all of Robert’s books from his reading list that shaped his mind.

One night, you’re drunk and sad. You’re primarily drunk at night, hazy and unaware, but some nights you are sad, not always. A ten-year-old Elias walks into your room, asking why you are crying so much.

For a second, you think he’s Robert with his big blue eyes and puff of dark hair, which makes you sob even more.

After Robet’s death, Kitty writes to you frequently to ensure you’re doing okay alone with the kids. You write back, and in her final years, the two of you build a friendship until her untimely death in 1972. You speak at her funeral and say in your speech that you hope she’s reunited with Robert.

Thaïs and Elias both grow into fine adults. Thaïs goes to study chemistry and history at Davis while Elias studies nuclear physics at Princeton, which you know would make Robert proud of both of them.

Toni, Oppenheimer’s daughter from Kitty’s marriage, committed suicide in 1977. Robert gave her the ranch in New Mexico. Peter refuses to take it, so it’s given to Thaïs. For Thanksgiving and Christmas, you meet Thaïs and Elias there to celebrate the holidays, taking them horseback riding to explore the beauty of New Mexico that Robert once showed to you.

Thaïs and Elias grow old, and have their own lifes. They stop visiting for holidays, as they are preoccupied with their own families and affairs. You never get angry at either of them for doing so; it’s human nature.

And so you retreat back to the island of St.John, where your beach house is. It holds both fond and sad memories of Robert, especially within his last years. It’s probably not the best idea if you are out there alone, but you manage to keep yourself distracted with the television, books, and old photos surrounding you. You keep yourself busy and entertained, only getting sad at night about Robert.

One night, you’re reading on Robert’s old chair. There’s a peppermint tea that’s untouched by your side, along with a fully drinken bottle of wine. With a blanket over you, you read Robert’s old, annotated copy of Hades and Perspehone. You’ve read it a thousand times by now, but the story never gets old to you. It will never get old for you.

As you reach the end, in which Persephone stays with Hades, your eyes begin to feel heavy. Your hands and fingers feel tingly and heavy. With your eyelids feeling droopy and breathing feeling short, you rest your head back and into the chair. Everything slowly goes back. You're not sad to be going; infact, you’re happy.

Sometime later, you awaken in a hazy world. It’s an alternate reality since you feel much younger, sitting at a desk, and looking down at your book; it’s an introductory book to Physics with your navy notebook, your name taped on the side.

Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him; Robert. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. He’s got his cigarette in hand, and those damn blue eyes that you loved. Oh, how you’ve missed them. He looks directly at you in the class, and you directly at him. There are people talking, and while they are close, their voices are nothing but mindless mutters.

Robert smiles at you.

Your heart skips a beat.

You sigh and smile right back at him. At last, you’re home.

#carrie writes #cillian murphy #oppenheimer #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer x reader #robert j oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #robert j oppenheimer x reader #j Robert oppenheimer x reader

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lookingforhappy · 2 months

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transcript of Five's case files on the Hindenburg, the case that he solves for the Commission while working in management:

MEMORANDUM ON INTENDED EVENTS RE: HINDENBURG DISASTER May 6, 1937 The airship will complete its first scheduled demonstration flight for the 1937 season, between Frankfurt, Germany, and Lakehurst. It will depart from Frankfurt about 8:15 P.M, G.M.T., Monday, May 3, and will be due at Lakehurst on the morning of Thursday, May 6. It will be due out of Lakehurst at 10:00 P.M E.S.T, that night. Because of unfavorable winds encountered en route, its arrival at Lakehurst will be deferred until 6:00 P.M, Thursday evening, and departure will be postponed until midnight or later in order to reservice and prepare for the voyage. The ship is owned and operated by the Deutsche Zeppelin Reederei, G.m.b. H, of Berlin, W8, under den Linden, Germany. The flight, which is intended to be one of a series to be arranged into the United States territory during 1937, will be authorized by a provisional air navigation permit from the Secretary of the Navy to the American Zeppelin Transport, Inc., of 354 Fourth Avenue, New York City, as general United States agent of the Deutities at the Naval Air Station at Lakehurst. On March, 1937 the German Government will renew the airworthiness certification of the aircraft, reporting that all of its safety devices had been inspected and found satisfactory. Personnel, including officers, numbered 61, will be on board, of whom 22 will die as a result of the accident. Passengers, 36 persons besides the Crew will be on board. Of these, 13 will die as a result of the accident. Other passengers and members of the crew will sustain serious injuries. Total weight of the freight carried will be 325 pounds and will be stowed in the main freight compartment at Frame 125; 2 dogs will be kenneled at Frame 92, and 3 packages will be stowed in the control car. Mail will be carried in a compartment on the top of the control car. Of the freight and mail on a few pieces of mail will be recovered. The ground personnel will consist of 92 naval personnel and 139 civillians. Practically all of the gorund crew will have previous experienve landing airships. One member of the ground crew will die as a result of burns received during the accident. Across the Atlantic from Germany to the United States, the flight will be uneventful, save for retarding winds which will not be unusually turbulent. The route traveresed by the ship on this side of the ocean will be from Nova Scotia, vis Boston, Providence, Long Island Sound, New Forks and thense cruise along the coast for a few hours before retracing its course from Tuckerton N.J., to the naval Air Station.

ATMOSPHERIC ANOMALIES PRESENT The 7:30 A.M, EST. U.S. Weather Bureau map of the vicinity, including the northeastern tier of states, Shows a disturbance over central New York and northeastern Pennsylvania, with a cold front extending from this center Southwestward to West Virginia. This front separated neutralized polar air to the east of the cold front which had become warmer and more moist and neutralized colder air to the west of the front. The warmer and more moist mass of air covered the Middle Atlantic states, southeastern New York and southern New England. --- The cold front advanced eastward during the day from central Peensylvania at a rate of 12 to 15 m.p.h., passing Lakehurst shortly after 3:30 P.M There was not quite sufficient surface heating during the early afternoon to set off a thunderstom at Lakehurst, and it was not until the front passed and some slight lifting of the air mass occured that a thunderstorm began, The records of the Naval Air Station show that the thunderstorm began at 3:43 P.M and ended at 4:45 P.M --- Telegraphic reports indicate, the thunderstorms in and to the west of New Jersey were not severe; nor were they of a well defined squall character. Between 12 P.M and 1:30 P.M E.S.T., these storms extended in a definite belt over the region of Harrisburg, Pa., northeastward to Bear Mountain, N.Y., and New Hackensack, N.Y. Between 1:30 and 2:40 P.M, none was reported. Between 2:40 and 3:40 P.M, Camden and Fort Monmouth, N.J., only reported thunderstorms. Between 3:30 and 4:30 P.M, Lakehurst, Mtchel Field, N.Y, and Floyd Bennett Field, N.Y., reported them. Between 4:40 and 5:40 P.M. none was reported; and betweeen 5:40 and 6:40 P.M, Floyd Bennett onlt reported one. Summarized, the thunderstorms in eastern New Jersey were of a local character and not severe. --- The New York Weather Bureau office bulletin issued at 1:20 P.M, May 6th, follows: "1800 G.C.T. Moderate wind shift with increasing and lowering clouds possible thundershowers New York and vicinity expected in middle or late afternoon Stop New York Scattered cumulus and small cumulo nimbus approaching from west - visibility excellent surface wind south 12 miles - barometer 29.68 falling steadily temperature 66."

DATE: May 6 1937 0725 EST OPERATION: Hindenburg Disaster DAMAGE: Catastrophic PLACE: Lakehurst, New Jursey, 40.026088, -74.316592 LOCALE: Open air field WEATHER: Light rain PILOT: Commercial TOTAL HOURS: 567 ALL 63 NO TYPE LAST 90 DAYS: 179 ALL 62 NO TYPE CASUALTIES: Crew: 23; Pass: 13 OCCURENCE: Numerous expert and lay witnesses on the field testified as to where they first observed the fire on the ship. There was great diversity in this testimony for reasons that are very apparent. Among the most important of these reasons were the extreme rapidity with which the fire spread, the different positions of the witnesses with respect to the ship, the size of the ship, more than one-sixth of a mile in length, and an over-all height, equicalent to a twelve story building, and the fact that the interval between the first glimpse of flame and the impact of the main body of the ship with the ground was 32 seconds. The great majority of the ground witnesses who testified as to the first sppearance of fire were looking at the port side of the ship. After carefully weighing the oral evidence and transcribing to a master diagram the numerous disgrams on which the gound witnesses indicated their first observations of fire, we conclude that the first open flame, produced by the burning of the ship's hydrogen, appeared on the top of the ship forward of the entering edge of the vertical fin over Cells 4 and 5. The first open flame that was seen at that place was followed after a very brief interval by a burst of flaming hydrogen between the equator and the top of the ship. The fire spread in all directionsmoving progessively for ward at high velocity with a succession of mild explosions. As the stern quarter became enveloped, the ship lost boutanct and cracked at about one-quarter of the distance from the rear end. The forward part assumed a bow-up attitude, the rear appearing to remain level. At the same time the ship was settling to the ground at a moderate rate of descent. Whereas there was a definite detonation after flame was first observed on the ship, we believe that the phenomenon was initially a rapid burning or combustion - not an explostion. From the observations made, is appears that there was a quantity of free hydrogen present in the after part of the ship when the fire originated.

HINDENBURG DIASTER INTELLIGENCE SUMMARY Place | Date | Hour | Summary of Events and Information | Remarks FRANKFURT April | 2. | A deviation occured in the subject's plot to detonate a controlled explosive device on the rear fuel tank of the zeppelin. An alternate plan is underway. | EF 5. | Progress in the creation of the subject's explosive device has stalled. An alternate catalyst is still viable. | SB 7. | The zeppelin has successfully completed it's seventh cross-continent trip carrying 19 crew members | - LAKEHURST May | 9. | Lakehurst Nacal Air Station recevied 8 new directives in preperation for the first cross-continent civilian flight of the zeppelin. German and American organizations continue to increase communications. | EF 12. | Progress continues on the controlled explosive device. Another player emerges in America, a linesman from New York. | SB 15. | The zeppelin is grounded for 2 days as high winds buffer the Western coast of the English Isles. FRANKFURT June | 29. | 300 feet of steel is salwed and loaded up at Frankfurt for repaits to the central gangway after miscalculations in the rate of expansion cause cells 15 and 16 to bend 4 degrees outside of normal variation. | EF Instructions regarding Intelligence Summaries are contained in Regula II and the Management Manual. Title pages will be prepared in manuscript.

The airship will be placed in service early in 1936. It will bear the builder's numer LZ 129 and have been constructed by the Luft Schiffbau Zeppelin of Friedrichschafen, Germany, and organization which also built the 118 Zeppelin type airships. Briefly described, this type of design provides for frame work of duralumin metal girders with tension wires. There is division by fringe wirings of the bosy into different compartments, into which the gas bags are placed to received the lifting gas; a keel walkway to take certain load; a framwork with an outer cover of fabric to give form, and engine cars suspended from the frame outside the ship. The Hindenburg is a Zeppelin type airship, having an axial corridor constructed longitudinally through the center of the hull. During its 9 months of operation in 1936, this airship will make more than 55 flights; flying 2,754 hours, cruising 191, 584 miles, crossing the ocean 34 times, carrying 2, 798 passengers and more than 377,000 pounds of mail and freight, all without mishap. The Hindenburgs length is about 803.8 feet; height, 147 feet; maximum diameter, 135 feet; fineness ratio, about 6; total gas volume, 7, 063, 000 cubic feet; normal volume, 6, 710, 000 cubic feet. Weight of the ship with necessary equipment and fuel is 430, 950 pounds; maximum fuel capacity, 143, 650 pounds; total payload 41, 990 pounds, and total life is 472, 940 pounds. Cruising speed is about 75 statute m.p.h.; maximum speed is slightly over 84 m.p.h. Passenger space is entirely within the hull. The control system is the conventional Zeppelin type control, with two rudders acting as a Unit for horizontal control, and two elevators acting likewise for veritcal control. Emergency elevator and rudder control wheels are installed in the stern of the ship. An electrical gyroscopic device attached to the forward rudder wheel provides automatic steering.

#tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #the commission #transcript

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