by Andrew Watts
Like General Chen, this politician had not been involved in many of the planning stages of the war. Many of the military movements were a surprise to them.
Jinshan would indulge them momentarily. “You are mistaken.” He gave a slight smile. “It was America who fired nuclear weapons at North Korea, not China. This is what is being put out on global media networks even as we speak. Our own military actions are in response to America encroaching on North Korea’s sovereign territory. Our actions take place in the context of their continued religiously motivated attacks inside of China. The People’s Republic of China is standing up for the freedom-loving people of the world. America shall be painted as a rogue state. One to be shunned.”
“But Western news sources will surely refute our—”
“Western media are under attack. American media will be in chaos in the aftermath of the EMPs. And we have armies of cyberwarriors and intelligence organizations that are working to shape global opinion. No one wants to go to war, or to see their economies ruined. Japan has already agreed to surrender. The Europeans will follow suit after the Russian ultimatum. We must isolate the American military from their allies. Without the cooperation of other nations, and without the fuel and resources of other nations, we will prevail. This limited nuclear strike by the Americans plays into our hands. America has crossed an unfathomable line, which will not be tolerated by other peace-loving nations of the world.”
Jinshan watched General Chen as his eyes moved rapidly back and forth over the table, taking in information that he should have already known, had he studied all of the documents that had been provided to him.
The colonel picked up a ringing phone and began speaking into it. He nodded and hung up, then turned to the table of senior leaders. “We have lost communications with our strategic missile force along the Russian boarder. We believe that the American ICBMs have struck their targets.”
One of the other generals at the table said, “Please provide a damage assessment as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jinshan remained calm and turned to the admiral sitting at the table. “We need to discuss our naval plans. Those will be the most essential element of the next few weeks. Provide me with an update on the Jiaolong-class ships.”
The admiral said, “Due to the shortened timeline of our attack plans, we were only able to outfit one ship with all the new weapon systems. It was slow progress, due to the need to keep the work covert.”
Jinshan nodded. “I understand. This was a prudent decision to keep the ships hidden in port. Tell me, do we think the Americans are still unaware of the technology?”
The minister of state security said, “This is our belief, Chairman Jinshan. The Americans know we have ramped up construction on our new naval warships at this location, but we have been providing them false information as to the details of this particular weapon system. They believe that these ships are two new Type 055 guided-missile destroyers.”
Jinshan nodded. “When will they be able to get to sea?”
The admiral said, “We expect the first to get underway within the week, sir. We have had to skip many of the maintenance tests new ships normally go through. But we have conducted simulations in port that should mitigate much of that risk. The second ship will take longer.”
“Very well.”
General Chen frowned. “If these ships are so important, why have we not used them in the opening attacks?”
The admiral said, “General, with respect, the essential nature of these weapons is precisely why we wanted to keep them out of harm’s way. The Jiaolong weapons systems are the first of their kind. If their technology works, they could make any battle group impenetrable to enemy forces.”
Jinshan felt a shudder and could see commotion in the pit of computer terminals below. The phone rang, and once again the colonel who was standing next to their table answered it. Keeping the phone to his ear, he said, “We have lost communications with Bunkers Four, Five, and Six.”
General Chen said, “Bunker Four was located one hundred kilometers from here. If they were hit…”
The colonel said, “All American missiles have hit their targets. There are no more ICBMs inbound. The base safety officer reports tunnels between all bunkers have been sealed and ventilation systems are operational. He recommends that we transfer via the tunnel train to Bunker Two at your earliest convenience, sir. Given the prevailing winds, this will minimize any radiation risk during future air transports.”
General Chen let out a sigh, shoulders slumped, wiping sweat off his brow.
Jinshan nodded. “Very well. Give us the next two hours and then make the arrangements.” He turned back to the admiral, unfazed by their new lease on life. “How does Admiral Song intend to use the Jiaolong?”
“He agrees with me, sir. He wants to finish off Guam.”
General Chen was shaking his head, looking at the other men around the table. “What is the status of our strategic nuclear forces?”
The military officer standing near the computer terminal had a phone to his ear. He nodded to acknowledge the question and relayed it into the phone.
“We do not have full confirmation, General, but it appears that the Americans have struck direct hits on our missile fields and nuclear weapons storage depots.”
General Chen cursed. “And the ballistic missile submarines?”
Admiral Zhang frowned. “We have not heard from them in the past hour. They may have been hit.”
“Hit?”
“Sunk, General.”
General Chen slammed his fist on the table. “This is exactly why we should have fired our nuclear weapons first.” He looked between Jinshan and Admiral Zhang. “You should not send Song’s fleet to Guam. Guam’s base was hit. They will be nursing their wounds. We should send Admiral Song’s carrier group with the others, towards Hawaii. If we conquer Hawaii, there shall be nothing else in our way.”
Admiral Zhang said, “Respectfully, General, I recommend that we—”
General Chen said, “The Jiaolong is an unproven technology. You should have faith in your men, Admiral. We should sail east and land our forces on Hawaii while the Americans are in disarray.”
The two flag officers began arguing, but Jinshan silenced them.
“You have sufficiently registered your disapproval, General.” Jinshan stood, his leathery face wrinkling into a frown. The room went quiet, and General Chen lowered his eyes. “Now, if anyone has further questions on our strategy, you may take them up with me in private.”
Jinshan left the room, coughing into his fist.
8
David and Lindsay had gone back and forth as to whether they should get in their one working car and get the hell away from D.C., or whether they should stay put. With no electricity or cellular connectivity, there simply wasn’t any way to get information about what was happening out there. A few of the neighbors had come outside and David had spoken with them briefly. At least two families on their street had packed up and left. One father had a holstered pistol on his hip as he got into his minivan. He didn’t say where they were headed.
David and Lindsay decided to stay put. They were at war now, and he felt the call of duty. David was needed at his work. A part of him wondered if he should try to go to Langley right now, in the middle of the night. But without direction, he decided against it. He would be more capable after a few hours of rest.
Lindsay put their youngest back down. Their older child—a toddler—had, as David had always expected, slept through World War Three. Lindsay and he had lain back in bed but hadn’t been able to sleep.
“It feels wrong, going to bed right now,” David said. “But I mean, what the hell are we supposed to do?”
“There are a lot of sirens out there,” said Lindsay.
“Yeah.” David was happy that law enforcement and emergency services were functional, at least. There was a debate among men like him on how bad an EMP attack would really be, with worst-
case predictions that no vehicles whatsoever would work after the strike.
“We should try to go to the grocery store first thing in the morning.”
David sighed. “I’ll need to work.”
“I know.”
“Don’t go to the store alone. People will be scared.”
“You’re probably right.” Lindsay lay on his shoulder. “Should we go somewhere…I don’t know…more rural? I feel like it would maybe be safer there. My mother can go to her sister’s place out in Purceville. Do you think there’s enough room for us all there?”
“I’m not sure that the apocalypse is enough to get me to live with your mother.”
Lindsay didn’t laugh. Nothing seemed funny right now. They stayed that way in bed for a while. Unable to sleep. Minutes of silence interrupted by bits of worried conversation. David didn’t know how long it went on. Nothing that told time was still functional.
But eventually, headlights appeared through his bedroom window.
“Is that in our driveway?” He threw a robe on and headed towards the knocking at his front door. Two polite but nervous-looking enlisted Army men stood there.
“Good evening, sir, is your name David Manning?”
“That’s right.”
“Sir, everyone working on SILVERSMITH has been recalled. I’m to drive you and your dependents in as soon as possible.”
“My dependents?”
“Yes, sir. Anyone who might need to accompany you in the event of a location transfer.”
“Transfer to where?”
“Out of the D.C. area, sir. That’s all I know.”
“Now?”
The two men didn’t answer. The looks on their faces said it all. One couldn’t have been much more than twenty years old, by the look of it. Both looked tired.
David thought he understood. Given the speech he had seen on TV, the emergency alert message, and the EMP detonation, the CIA and the Pentagon needed to respond immediately. The Pentagon must have had plans ready for an event like this. A “break glass in the case of disaster” plan. This was going to be a different type of war than the United States had faced before.
David waved them in. “Come inside, guys. You can sit on the couch while I rustle the troops.” The two Army men exchanged glances, the bright flashlight illuminating their shrugs. Then they followed David in.
Lindsay already had sweats and sneakers on when David was back in the bedroom. She had heard the conversation. Lindsay wasn’t happy that they needed to grab the kids and leave their home in the middle of the night. But she didn’t complain either. Her motherly instinct intermingled with her own sense of national duty. She knew the type of work her husband did. Whatever Uncle Sam needed David to do, they would do it.
They packed fast and were soon riding in the back of the white government van, the kids sleeping and the parents wondering what the hell was in store for them. The drive was shorter than David expected. They must have still been in Vienna, Virginia.
“We’re not going to Langley?”
“They told us to take you here, sir.”
There were mobile generators connected to floodlights in the parking lot of a four-story building, dark glass windows and beige stone. Identical to most other office buildings in the area, except that their vehicle had to go through a checkpoint with multiple armed guards to get past the barbed-wire fence. If David could have seen the roof of the building, he would’ve seen the surplus of satellite dishes and antennae on the roof.
There were dozens of similar white government vans dropping off other families. They shuffled through the doors through multiple ID checks and then gathered in a conference room that clearly wasn’t meant to hold this many people.
A man wearing a track suit ushered people. “Families over here, please. SILVERSMITH personnel down the hall.”
“You gonna be all right?” David squeezed his wife’s shoulder.
“We’ll be fine,” Lindsay said.
Maddie, their three-year-old, was now awake, courageously walking while holding her mom’s hand. Their infant still slept in a Babybjörn on Lindsay’s chest. Lindsay looked exhausted, but resolute.
“I’ll find you after,” David said. He kissed her on the cheek and walked away.
The SILVERSMITH personnel funneled into a meeting room one floor above where the civilians were being tended to. General Schwartz and Susan Collinsworth, the CIA operations officer in charge of the group, stood at the front of the room.
“Close the door, please,” said Schwartz.
Susan said, “We’ll be quick, because we need to get moving. Within the past few hours, the Chinese military has begun attacking the US, both overseas and domestically.”
Murmurs from around the room.
“At least one EMP was detonated over the mid-Atlantic, which has caused massive power and electronics outages throughout the eastern seaboard. We’re receiving intel reports that describe at least three electromagnetic pulse detonations over the US in the past hour. But the information we’ve been getting has been incomplete and, in some cases, contradictory.”
She glanced at General Schwartz, who took it from there. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been ordered to decentralize and relocate the entire US military and intelligence apparatus. SILVERSMITH will be transported together, with dependents, and a security detail provided to ensure our safety. We expect that tomorrow will bring widespread chaos to the civilian population.”
More whispers from around the room.
“Transportation will be difficult. In many cases, infrastructure will temporarily cease to function. Our intention is to start our relocation process immediately.”
“Where are we headed?” someone asked.
“We won’t be making that known, for security reasons.”
“What does immediately mean? Like, now?”
“The buses are gassing up. Ours should be here within the hour.”
“What about our houses? Shit, I got a cat, man. What about my cat?”
A few swears. Some people shaking their heads.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we just witnessed the beginning of the third world war. This day will be in the history books. Each of you read the Red Cell threat analysis report. You know what to expect. EMP attacks coupled with cyber and special operations assaults. Attacks on American infrastructure and utilities, transportation hubs, political leadership. We need to assume that all of this will be attempted. As part of team SILVERSMITH, you hold a critical knowledge and ability to help manage our defensive strategy and tactics. We need to ensure that the government continues to function, and this is one of the ways in which we’ll do that.”
A knock at the door. An Air Force officer handed a piece of paper to the general, who read it and gritted his teeth.
He looked up. “The president is confirmed dead.”
Mouths dropped open. Someone said, “Holy shit…”
“The vice president has been sworn in as the new commander in chief, and the executive branch has declared martial law until further notice.” General Schwartz paused and looked up at the faces in the room. “We’ll be departing soon. Please help your families get aboard the buses.”
There were two buses and two escort vehicles. The SILVERSMITH workers and their families piled on, and the buses departed shortly after, taking the Beltway and then heading south on I-95. David guessed it was still before five a.m. when they got on the highway. Normally the southbound traffic wouldn’t be so bad at this time. But not today. There were already a lot of vehicles traveling the highway.
By dawn, they passed Richmond, Virginia. That was when the signs of panic became visible.
Lindsay pointed out the tinted bus window. “What’s that? What is that?”
A huge bonfire had been lit atop one of the highway overpasses. The SILVERSMITH convoy of defense and intelligence workers and their families passed underneath. A sedan was ablaze. A limp body rested a few feet from the flaming vehicle, limbs hanging through the chain-l
ink fence of the overpass. The person had been shot in the head. There were no police or emergency services in sight.
The escort vehicles had blue lights flashing at this point. They traveled in the left-hand lane, and most vehicles quickly got out of the way. But as the morning went on, the highway became much more crowded. Their escort vehicle began sounding the sirens and honking horns, and people in the left lane became slow to move out of the way.
Susan caught David’s eye from the front of the bus, gesturing him to come up. David checked that his wife and kids were asleep, then headed up the aisle and sat across from his boss.
“Morning, David. Join us, please. I’d like you to hear the latest.” General Schwartz and several of David’s colleagues were in the seats adjacent to her. The seat directly in back of the bus driver was filled with two men David knew were with Cybercommand. They had military-grade laptops that were connected to a large black communications device.
“STRATCOM’s online. PACFLEET. CENTCOM. Homeland Security’s up. Okay, we’re getting real-time data now. It’s slow, but it’s coming.”
David offered Susan a puzzled look. She whispered, “They’ve set up a drone-based network over the US to provide coverage until we can get our replacement satellite networks up. It will be spotty, but it’s better than nothing, and we’re relatively confident it hasn’t been hacked.”
David nodded.
After a few moments, the group began going over updates from various sources around the globe. The situation was dire. It was now less than twelve hours since the war had begun, and there was no electricity or internet for the vast majority of the United States. The effects of the EMPs weren’t as bad as the sci-fi movies would have you believe. But the collective result of cyber, EMP, and whatever the Chinese special operations teams were doing was quite potent.
“We have several nuclear power plants that came very close to having a meltdown. One hasn’t reported in yet. Cyberattacks have wiped out a lot of data centers. It looks like the companies that handle logistics and transportation were the worst hit.”
