Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World



"Mr. Nielsen," the guard entered Poul's room and announced. "We are moving you in, get ready." 

It's been five days since the assassination attempt and now Poul has the chance to leave. Since the British Government is not in the case of taking care of his transport, they can move him now discreetly. 

Poul got up from his bed and prepared to leave. He followed the guard that led him to the carriage parked in front of the embassy.

Before hopping into the carriage, Poul stopped and turned to face Mr. Smith. 

"Mr. Ambassador, thank you for what you did to me. I truly appreciate it," Poul said.

"It's nothing, like I said, you are our country's most important asset. Losing you is a major blow to the country. Oh, to make this trip more reassuring, I have told the British Government that we are planning on moving you in two days, so they are not going to expect you to leave now." 

Poul smiled, gratitude swelling up inside him. "Well, I'll put a good word on the president that you did a remarkable job of keeping me safe. He might want to promote you."

Mr. Smith chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "No, you'll only bother him. So, once you are in the port, you are to get into a merchant ship. The British customs officer won't even "bat an eye. They have been informed that the ship is carrying a cargo of textiles from our country, and they won't suspect a thing. The ship's captain has been briefed and is aware of the situation, so you'll be in good hands."

Poul nodded, acknowledging the careful planning that had gone into his escape. He felt a mixture of relief and anticipation, knowing that soon he would be leaving the dangers behind and getting his life back again.

As he stepped into the carriage, he swept the curtain to the side and waved his hand to bid a final farewell to Mr. Smith. The ambassador stood there, his expression a mix of pride and concern as if he understood the weight of the task Poul was about to undertake. Poul held onto that image in his mind, knowing that he carried the hopes and trust of his nation with him.

The carriage set off, its wheels rolling along the cobbled streets of the city. Poul leaned back against the plush seat, feeling a sense of surrealism wash over him. It seemed like just yesterday he was entrenched in the midst of a dangerous conspiracy, and now he was on the verge of leaving it all behind.

As the carriage journeyed towards the port, Poul's mind wandered back to the events that had led him here. Truly, bringing Sara to the United States would result in this, but since everything is coming to an end now, he can remove those thoughts from his mind.

Twenty minutes later, the carriage arrived at the port. The coachman jumped off and opened the door for Poul.

Poul Nielsen climbed down the steps of the carriage, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling port. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the clamor of sailors and dockworkers going about their tasks. He adjusted his hat, pulling it lower to shield his face, knowing that anonymity was his greatest ally now.

Guided by the guard, Poul made his way toward the designated merchant ship. It's towering masts and sturdy hull stood out among the other vessels, a silent promise of escape and a return to his past life.

The ship's crew greeted Poul with nods and smiles, recognizing him as the special cargo they had been entrusted with. They showed him to his cabin, a modest but comfortable space that would serve as his sanctuary during the journey. Poul appreciated the simplicity of it.

"Well, it seems like the British didn't really know that I'm leaving London. That's a shame, I thought there was someone watching me. Or is it my imagination," Poul mumbled as he jumped to the bed, feeling the cool sea breeze on his face from the open windows. The ship's engines roared to life, vibrating beneath his feet as it began to move. Poul watched as the shore grew smaller and smaller, disappearing into the horizon. 

"That was easy," he commented.

***

A day later, at the United States Embassy in London, the royal carriage carrying the Crown Prince stepped off the carriage and burst his way through the embassy.

His face fumed with anger as he made his way to Mr. Smith's office. The ambassador, taken aback by the sudden intrusion, rose from his chair, his expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"Crown Prince Alexander," Mr. Smith greeted, regaining his composure. "What brings you here with such urgency?"

The Crown Prince slammed his hand on the desk, his voice filled with frustration. "I demand answers, Ambassador! Where is Poul Nielsen? He was under your protection, and now he's gone? I thought you are to transport him in two days? Why the hell did he leave yesterday?" 

"Well, Crown Prince Alexander, please calm down first and take a seat," Mr. Smith said, gesturing to a chair.

But Crown Prince Alexander was in no mood to calm down. He paced the room, his frustration boiling over. "Don't tell me to calm down! You fooled us. I thought we are in a mutual understanding, but what you just did is a betrayal of trust! You jeopardize the relationship between your country and mine. Explain yourself, Ambassador!"

Mr. Smith maintained his composed demeanor, understanding the Crown Prince's anger. He spoke firmly but respectfully, trying to defuse the situation. "Crown Prince Alexander, I assure you that everything we did was to ensure Mr. Nielsen's safety. The decision to expedite his departure was made to minimize the risk of further attacks and ensure a successful escape from the conspirators. We believed it was in his best interest to depart earlier than planned."

"And why didn't you tell me that?" 

"Because we are under the impression that the British Empire has something to do with the failed assassination attempt on Mr. Nielsen's life." 

"What?!" The Crown Prince exclaimed exasperatedly. "That's a serious allegation you are making, Ambassador. Do you have any evidence to support such claims?"

"We don't but it's better safe than sorry, am I right?" Mr. Smith replied, his tone steady. "We have been working on gathering more evidence to substantiate our suspicions. I understand that this situation has put a strain on our nations' relationship, but we acted in what we believed to be the best interests of both countries. Our priority was Mr. Nielsen's safety. Isn't that right? You gave your word on him that Mr. Nielsen is going to be safe, and now he is on his way to the United States, shouldn't we be celebrating?" 

ƥαṇdα-ηθνε|·ƈθm The Crown Prince clicked his tongue in frustration, the Ambassador got him. "Yeah…you are right, if Mr. Nielsen is in safe hands, then there's nothing to worry about. I'm sorry for barging into your office, Mr. Ambassador. That was unnecessary of me," the Crown Prince admitted, his anger subsiding slightly." 

"There's no need to apologize, Your Highness. Now, if there's nothing else I'll return to my work." 

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