by Chris Harris
Not one to want to stand out from the crowd, he was usually happy for others to take the lead on things. His confidence since leaving the Royal Marines had slowly been sucked away as his relationship with Angie (even though he’d persuaded himself it was what he wanted) blossomed and followed the traditional path. They dated for a while, then they moved in together, then came the marriage plans only for him to be dumped just weeks before the big event when she ran off with his supposed best mate.
A broken man, he stubbornly went on the honeymoon alone. It was all paid for anyway and with no possibility of a refund he did not want to give the woman he had considered the love of his life the tickets, so she could enjoy what he had spent his lifesavings and more on with the person who was going to be the best man at their wedding.
His life changed in more ways than one in New York. He had wandered the city full of loneliness, anger, and despair, taking faked happy selfies at all the usual landmarks, posting them on social media to prove to the world he was doing fine.
Then he met Louise. A beautiful West Virginian whose only aim in life was to live it. As soon as she had enough money saved from working as a waitress in her hometown, she was off to wherever her wanderlust took her.
One drink-fuelled night of craziness bought them together. Never having met anyone like her before his feelings for her grew every hour they spent together.
Thrown even closer together following the terror attacks in New York that heralded the start of Chinese aggression, they escaped the city along with others only to fall ill to radiation poisoning. He nursed her for days, himself desperately ill until he fulfilled her dying wish to return to her own home.
It was fulfilling that wish that bought him in contact with the resistance. They wanted his help.
Initially cautious and unsure, it took Louise’s death to make him join them. He had found someone to love again and she had been wrenched from his grasp before he could tell her.
He wanted to avenge her death.
Silently girding his loins, he prepared himself, pushing his self-doubt aside and building up his inner confidence. These people needed his help and he alone could do it. He could lead them to a safer place.
He walked into the middle of the group and called for quiet. “Hi, my name is Cal and I, like you, was being sent home after being released from a camp, much like yourselves I imagine.”
Heads nodded as they listened.
“What you do not know is that I was sent to a camp by the resistance to send information out to help them in planning an attack to liberate it.”
Immediately he was besieged with questions, but he held up his hands and called for quiet again.
“Please let me finish and then you can ask as many questions as you like. The last message I received was to expect the attack at two o’clock today.”
He pointed up at the sky. “I do not know if they are part of the attack, but it’s about that time now so my best guess is that whatever was planned was not just local, but part of a greater coordinated strike. The soldiers guarding us on the bus had some sort of warning over their radios and probably seeing what was overhead, panicked and deserted us. I have a few suggestions as to what we do next, but I would say if this is the beginning of the fight back, then we best avoid any areas where the Chinese are concentrated.”
A young pretty brunette spoke up. She spoke English, but with a heavy French accent. “Why? We need to reach the ship that will take us away from this.”
Others nodded in agreement around her.
Cal pointed to the sky again. Still more chemtrails were following the others, their altitude making their progress seem slow whereas in reality they were streaking though the atmosphere at hundreds of miles an hour.
“Do you know what they are?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “They are cruise missiles. I do not know which country fired them, but they could contain either a high explosive or a nuclear warhead. The Chinese have already made this conflict nuclear so do not even begin to imagine others won’t baulk from using them.
“We were all being taken to Norfolk to board this ship that was taking us home. If I remember correctly Norfolk is a major US naval base. The base must therefore be under Chinese control. That will most likely make it a target for one of those things up there. I for one am not prepared to take that risk. The safest place for us to be right now is as far away from any Chinese as we can.”
Another person spoke up. “We are not Americans, it is not our war. Our countries must get us home.”
A man stepped forward, his privileged-filled home-counties accent matched the now bedraggled business suit he was wearing. “Cal, I believe you are right. Our passports will offer us no protection now. If the Chinese bastards are being attacked, then anyone who doesn’t look like them will now become their enemy.”
He turned and pointed toward Cal. “I think we should listen to what this young man has to say. He has had contact with the American resistance and if what he has just told us is correct then they, I imagine, are in contact with whoever is responsible for what is flying over us now. Our route home now lies with them and not the Chinese.”
His plummy cultured accent carried a natural authority to it. More heads were now nodding in agreement and eyes were turning to Cal.
Cal nodded his thanks to the man. He stood silent for a while, contemplating what they should do next.
“The keys are still in the bus. If we can find a map, then we can start planning a route. I’ll need everyone’s help with this. We have come from different camps and areas. If we could mark on where people know there are troops, we can try to work a route around them.”
Most of the passengers agreed to join them. Four though, a French couple and two Spanish women, could not be swayed and they set off walking still adamant their best option lay at the coast. Cal watched them leave, knowing they were making a mistake that could cost them their lives.
After a quick survey, Cal was the only one who had any experience driving large vehicles due to his work in construction. He sat in the driver’s seat, and after a few crunches of gears, turned the bus around and they set off.
Chapter
Four
Russian Government War Bunker
President Petrov sat at the head of the large table positioned in the middle of the cavernous room. Filling the rest of the table was the entire cabinet and representatives from all branches of the military. The walls around him were covered with large screens showing everything from satellite imagery to Western news channels. Banks of computers and communications equipment lined the walls below them, attended to by a legion of uniformed soldiers, all studiously and silently working away. Occasional glances were cast at their great leader sat a mere few yards away.
The bunker was one of many built during the Soviet regime around the periphery of Moscow. They were far enough away to avoid the effects of a direct hit by a high-yield nuclear weapon on Moscow, but close enough that they could easily be reached in times of crisis. Petrov favored this one. Its stark raw concrete construction didn’t hide behind any trappings of luxury as other bunkers that had been built for the elite were. He wanted to feel that if the country was at war and suffering then why should those leading them experience any sort of luxury. The vast complex could accommodate hundreds of people comfortably but not in comfort. He smiled as he heard a few mutterings of complaint about the starkness of their quarters whilst he was waiting for one of his generals to arrive and report the progress so far.
Good, he thought to himself, hiding his contempt for those who complained behind a smile. These fat pigs need to experience this more often, we are Russians and not soft pampered Westerners.
His musings were interrupted by the arrival of the general and his aides. The president began before the general even had time to sit down. “Welcome, General. Before we discuss America can you please tell the committee members how the domestic situation is proceeding.”
“Sir, all is proceeding to plan.
The evacuation of the cities has commenced. There have been the usual delays and foul ups, but none that are unexpected and are not of concern.
“The citizens are mainly being cooperative. The camps we are constructing to house them are keeping up with the incoming flow and as more arrive we have more labor available to direct toward the projects.
“The timing of this is, for once, in our favor. The spring weather is mild, and summer is fast approaching. We may have many challenges to deal with, but a winter is one we do not need to consider for a while. The request we broadcast appealing for every citizen to do their duty for the motherland has worked beyond all expectations. Every base is filling with reserve personnel. They are arriving by their thousands every hour and there is no sign of the flood stopping.”
The general chuckled. “We are even turning away old soldiers no longer on our lists. I believe the oldest so far is an eighty-five-year-old Korean war veteran, who claims to have fought in the Great Patriotic War as a young boy.”
Petrov interrupted him. “If they want to fight, let them. If they have experience, then we can use them. They may not be fit for frontline duty, but they can take the place of one who is. From now on, General, turn no one away.”
He looked at his cabinet for confirmation. They all nodded. He chuckled wryly to himself. “And anyway, I am sure our esteemed media department will love such stories. General, please continue.”
“We are surging soldiers east along the railway. Old bases mothballed for decades are being reopened. The warehouses storing all the materiel needed to arm them are being opened and their contents distributed.
“Soon we will have millions of soldiers in position ready and willing to protect the motherland. As per orders we are not moving any troops toward the border, but those already stationed there are reporting no enemy activity whatsoever. I ordered a few small patrols to cross the border last night. The men know the area well and continuously play cat and mouse games with their Chinese counterparts.
“They know we do it and we know they do it. The game is to see how far you can get before getting detected. It is not unknown for a ‘captive’ from either side to be invited into the opposition’s mess for a drink before being sent home, once they have been searched for any intelligence that is. The friendliness is unofficially allowed by both sides as it stops the game getting out of hand and the ensuing diplomatic problems it would cause.
“What the patrol found was interesting in its lack of content. They found nothing. Most of the border posts were deserted, and those that were manned were not garrisoned by the usual border guards who receive a good level of training, but by ones who were so inept in their discipline that they may as well not have been there.”
Petrov interrupted again. “So, you are telling me that at a time when we are mobilizing millions of troops to help protect our borders, China’s frontier is as exposed as it has been at no time before?”
“Yes, sir. China has emptied her cupboards to support the American operation. Strategically, they would commit their best troops to the plan. It is how many we do not know at this stage. We are currently working through the intelligence to give you a more accurate count.”
“Do not give me accurate, General! We do not have time for an analyst to agonize over a few thousand here or there. The war will be over by then,” Petrov barked. “We have seen what they have done. We know how many ships have landed and how many are still at sea. We know they flew the first waves in from Cuba and Venezuela. I need your best estimate of what we are facing. Accuracy can wait for the history books.”
The general, unruffled by the apparent anger of his president, sifted through some papers on the desk in front of him before finding the one he was looking for. “I thought you may ask, sir.
“We estimate there were approximately two hundred thousand frontline elite troops committed to the first wave. The last of these are still arriving by transport planes from both Cuba and Venezuela. More are arriving hourly direct from China now the main airfields are secured. We estimate that almost every commercial airline they have is involved in bringing the next wave in.
“The majority of the Chinese Navy is currently closing on the Western Seaboard of the United States. The net they have thrown around themselves utilizing both surface ships and submarines is very effective and we have not been able to get close yet to report fully.”
He held up his hand as he could see Petrov’s anger building again. “We estimate over seventy-five percent of their fleet is at sea carrying at least another fifty to seventy-five thousand troops. If we include the navy and air force personnel involved they have committed over five hundred thousand to the operation. These ships will also most likely be transporting most of their heavy equipment. And those personnel on board will again be their best trained and best armed.”
Petrov nodded. “Tell me how the American operation is proceeding so far.”
“The Canadians are being very cooperative. They have fully mobilized and have called up all reserves for duty. They have opened up all of their bases for us and we are coordinating with them currently how best to proceed.
“The two Air Assault Brigades we deployed immediately to Canada last night parachuted into San Antonio, Texas to find and release the President of the United States.”
Petrov knew this, but he let him continue for the sake of the rest around the table. “Following information from agents in place we received confirmation of her location and that she was about to sign the surrender of the United States of America to China. That as we know cannot be allowed to happen because it would immediately legitimize everything they had set out to achieve. Rescuing her from captivity is of the utmost priority.”
An aged colonel general sitting at the lower end of the table spoke up. “Two brigades. Will that be enough to take a city?”
The general looked at his colleague; he knew he had served his whole life in the military, his unwavering loyalty to the state enabling him to survive the political upheavals of the past decades. He carried many scars from putting himself too close to the action at many stages of his career before being offered the General Officer role where his advice and council was always listened to and treated with respect.
“No, Colonel General. Not nearly enough. But it was all we had to put into theatre at short notice. The information came through the resistance movement who we are coordinating our efforts with.
“Without them the mission could not have happened. My men have parachuted into an unknown city against an unknown number of enemy soldiers with no more intelligence than laminated copies of street maps printed off the Internet. The local militias have mobilized and have already started a guerrilla warfare campaign led by a former CIA agent. They have infiltrated the city ready to link up with our forces once the target is located and secured.
“At the same time the air assault began we, together with the American Navy, launched a cruise missile strike against known Chinese concentrations of forces as a diversion.
“Over two hundred missiles with conventional warheads have been launched, more could have been launched but resupply is an issue. It was thought best to evaluate the success of the strikes and to husband available resources.”
The minister of health interrupted him. “Why were we not consulted? I came to this meeting to find that not only have we invaded a foreign soil, but we have launched hundreds of missiles.”
In the silence that followed, the minister squirmed uncomfortably under Petrov’s scrutiny.
“You are quite right, Minister. But time was short, and decisions needed to be made whilst you were sleeping in your quarters.”
Petrov leaned forward staring straight into the minister’s eyes. “Tell me, comrade. Would you have voted against such action? If your answer is yes, I would be interested in understanding why. If your vote would have been for it, then why are you complaining? Or is it the actions of a man sulking, his pride being hurt that the world keeps turning without him? Tell me
how you would have voted.”
The minister, a new appointee, regretted opening his mouth in a badly thought-out attempt to make an impression on the room, and tried to extricate himself from the situation. He stumbled through an apology, saying of course the president was right in what he did.
Petrov, though, did not let it go. “Thank you, Minister, for your vote of confidence. Now as the general explained earlier, millions of our loyal citizens need our help. They have been displaced from their homes and are now living in hastily built camps. As minister for health I need a report from you about how your department is helping them and what more we can do for them. I am relying on you to do this for your country. I suggest you organize an immediate personal visit to these camps to best understand what is required of you. Please do not let me stop you. You can leave now to start on this crucial project and I look forward to receiving your report in due course.”
Dismissed and outmaneuvered, the man could do no more than collect his papers from the desk and, trying to regain his dignity, walk briskly from the room. Petrov looked around the rest of the room. The message was clear. You were with him or against him and there was no room around the table for the latter.
The colonel general, too old to care about who he upset, knew the mood in the room needed to change. He grumbled softly, his voice deepened by the forty cigarettes he still smoked daily. “Before we were so rudely interrupted can I just check the facts because I think otherwise I might be going senile at last. We have invaded America with their permission after staging through Canada to help fight a Chinese occupying force who have nuked half of the country. Comrade, President, you got me. Great joke. Now can we get to the main news of the day and talk about who is going to win the World Cup.”
The laughter by everyone including Petrov dispersed any tension that remained in the room.
Chapter
Five
