Cold City: Escalation Boulevard
Lieutenant Rory S. Brighton
American Military Police Officer
Name: Lieutenant Rory S Brighton (That’s right, the “S” is not an initial!)
Nationality: United States of America
Occupation: Military Police, POW unit
Background: See Bio
Draw: See Bio
[ – ] Attentive to detail
[ + ] Good at calculations
[ + ] Excellent shot
[ – ] Gambler
[ – ] Stickler for the rules
[ – ] Enmity of the US Military Police
[ ] ___________________________
[ ] ___________________________
National: Find out what really happened to missing high-ranked Nazis.
Personal: Find Captain Vandergaard and find out if he’s using the twisted technology for his own ends. If so, kill him.
Originally from a ranch a few miles outside of Amarillo, Texas, he is the middle child of Thurmond and Susan Brighton. His older brother, Bruce, was a pilot in the Pacific theater and was killed outside of combat. The family received a letter from the Secretary of Defense himself stating: “I sincerely regret the loss of your brother/husband/son. He meant a great deal to our efforts against Germany/Japan/other. Rest assured I have [INSERT NAME HERE] in my thoughts even now as I compose this, the most difficult of letters. My warm, personal condolences. The Secretary.” The circumstances around Bruce’s death were always suspect. Rory’s inquiries eventually led him to believe he was part of some secret paramilitary organization, the existence of which would eventually be revealed after the war. His younger sibling is a strong-headed teenage girl by the name of Laura. It’s in Rory’s nature to be overprotective, but early on she made it abundantly clear that she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. When Rory was eventually drafted and the time came for him to depart, it was the only time he ever saw her cry.
Rory joined the Military Police. This was in 1944. One of his first assignments was to support the amphibious operations in Normandy. This involved ferrying supplies (mostly ammunition) back and forth from the gunships offshore to the lads bleeding away on the beach. During once such sortie, the officer receiving munitions from him was ripped apart by shrapnel from an artillery shell. Sergeant Rory – caught up in a blood lust as ancient as war itself – retrieved his weapons and charged up the beach. After the battle, Rory was first repremanded for dereliction of duty (he should have returned to the gunboats) and then awarded some kind of medal. Rory does not put much stock in medals.
As the war drew down, he was assigned to a unit in charge of identifying, arresting, and holding suspected Nazi criminals. Having seen the writing on the wall, a great of them had managed to obtain false papers and – abandoning their posts – assume innocent, anonymous identities with the help of their friends and associates. Uncovering these fiends required a bit of detective work as well as quick reflexes and a sure shot, especially when he came up against the more ruthless or desperate.
There always was the alluring mystery of the (admittedly, imagined) secret organization in whose service his brother had given up his life. Then one day Rory and his superior, Captain Vandergaard, were ordered to go interview none other than Himmler himself, the cold and much feared Chief of the SS and other things besides. Officially, the Allies never dealt directly with Himmler, and the two were clearly instructed that they were being sent merely to hear what he had to say in the event that it could be used as evidence against him. The meeting took place in a train. Himmler was clearly a broken man. He managed, though, to seduce Vandergaard with the monstrosity which he had brought with him. It was once a woman. But whatever it had once been, it was no longer. Rory could only be thankful it was locked in a cage. Himmler promised to turn over the monster in return for his surrender and a formal amnesty. He made clear that this thing in the cage was only the tip of an iceberg. What did it do? Vandergaard wanted to know, enraptured. It could smell its prey anywhere within a mile, even in a city. It could go for days without food and water. It could run as fast as a train. It could (happily) consume its victims, even the bones and hair. And it could move as silently as a gentle, midnight breeze. Vandergaard was impressed; Himmler laughed and insisted this was nothing. There was so much more! Vandergaard insisted he and Rory take it now. Once his superiors had seen it for themselves, only then would his chances for a deal become significant. Himmler acquiesced, but Rory objected. In a private conversation, Rory reminded the Captain that they were not to make any deal with Himmler at all! But Vandergaard clearly assumed that governments would want to use this new technology and not destroy it. So it only followed that he would have much to gain by being the first to secure a specimen. Rory was told to take the thing to the car while he and Himmler worked out some last details. Rory, though, thought the world had had enough of war and destruction and perversion. If his government could find a use for such a thing, then he wasn’t going to participate; and if it didn’t, his disobedience would be seen as an act of patriotism. Once on his own with the thing, he shot it with his own pistol through the head and pushed it out a door. Of course, Vandergaard heard the shot, and when he and Himmler came to investigate, there was no denying what had happened.
In their subsequent reports on the meeting, Vandergaard made no mention of the thing or Himmler’s deal; but he did accuse Rory of insubordination. Rory quite candidly told his version of events as they had seemed to occur. As a result, Rory was reprimanded a second time in his career and questions were raised about his psychological health. Just when he thought he would receive a dishonourable discharge or be assigned a straight-jacket and his own room at the Happy Days Health Institute, he was approached by a remember of the RPA with an interesting offer…