by Adam Yoshida
“We’re still considering the situation,” replied the other voice in a crisp English accent.
“No,” said the Secretary firmly, “if we’re going to do this thing I’m telling you that now is the time. Right. Fucking. Now.”
“We need to consider…”
“Now!” shouted the Secretary.
“Hold for the Manager,” said the voice on the other end after a heavy sigh.
“Sir?” the voice of Henry Blunt, unmistakably recognizable, came across the line.
“This whole thing is coming apart. If we’re going to do this we have to do it immediately,” said the Secretary.
“There are many factors to consider here,” said the Prime Minister, “we’re considering our options fully at the moment.”
“No,” said the Secretary, “there’s no time for equivocation. Involving the Mexicans…”
“We can’t talk about this…” interjected the Prime Minister.
“We must,” replied Ransom, “because we are flat fucking out of time.”
“Go on,” said the Prime Minister finally.
“The Mexicans have to be scared shitless after what the Rebels did to Egypt. And now the President is talking about using the nuclear card against the Rebels. I saw the eyes around the table here. They won’t do it. And, as things stand, they’re going to take New York City. And who fucking knows what other surprises they have coming. For all I know there’s an uprising going on in Chicago right now. They shot the fucking Mayor in New York. They could very well go after our guy in Chicago - we all know how much they hate him.”
“We’re aware of the problems inherent in the situation. We’re consulting right now,” said the Prime Minister.
“No,” said the Secretary of Defense, “fuck that. They’re moving on all fronts right now. If you wait a week - or even twenty-four hours - to make up your minds than this whole thing can take on a momentum of its own. We need to get the forces that we have mobilized moving. We need to give the go-order now and we’re going to need your recognition and support. Do we have it?”
“Do what you must,” said the Prime Minister after a long pause.
1st Battalion, Ninth Marines, Lower Manhattan
It had taken Roman Moore and Mack Dallas, moving through the chaos of war that had spread across New York City, nearly three hours of reach the Manhattan position held by Colonel Morgan Durham and the 1st Battalion.
“Let’s get our teams up in these buildings,” said Dallas as he surveyed the scene in Lower Manhattan where the Marines had taken up position.
“It’s not bad place to place snipers,” agreed Moore.
“And probably some anti-armor teams,” said Dallas.
“Where are these fucking tanks coming from?” asked Moore.
“Just an abundance of caution,” replied Dallas.
“Are you guys part of the CIA crew?” asked Major Latifpour as he strode towards them.
“Yep,” replied Moore as he carefully examined his XM-109.
“You took your sweet Goddamned time,” replied the Major, “are all of your people across?”
“We’re all accounted for,” said Dallas.
“Good,” replied Latifpour, raising a portable radio to his mouth.
“Everyone’s clear,” he said.
“I’ll signal the Ohio,” replied Colonel Durham over the radio.
No. 10 Downing Street, London, United Kingdom
“Prime Minister,” said Foreign Secretary Sir Gavin Ellison, “I must say that I rather wish that we’d been given some more time to prepare people for this notion. Even if we start contacting every single one of our allies right now, we’re not going to have the time to notify everyone. And, it goes without saying, some of the bigger players are going to be taken wholly by surprise.”
“I grant that this is not fully desirable, Foreign Secretary,” replied the Prime Minister, “but, in the judgement of our friends in America, it’s the only way to pull it off successfully. Things are falling apart at too rapid a rate over there and, if we don’t act, then there’s not going to be any way to pull the whole thing off.”
“Prime Minister,” said the Defense Secretary, “I must say that I have grave concerns about the likelihood of British forces being injected into a combat situation on such a sudden basis without complete prior preparations.”
“I understand your concerns, Defense Secretary,” said Blunt, “but I’m afraid that such a situation may quite simply be unavoidable under these circumstances.”
“Our forces will do our best, Prime Minister, but I simply want to ensure that my warnings are noted for the record,” maintained the Defense Secretary.
“Hedging your bets to preserve your reputation three decades hence?” said the Foreign Secretary sharply.
“I am simply stating my objection for the record,” said the Defense Secretary.
“I must say,” noted the Lord President of the Council, himself a former Foreign Secretary, “that the scope of what is being outlined to us here is incredibly audacious. Even if fully executed - and even if it goes largely according to plan - it poses a serious risk of placing much of the United States of America at war with the whole of the European Union and its allies. Certainly, I can’t imagine that they won’t want to fight the thing out.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Lord President,” said the Prime Minister, “even in the Rebel states there is a powerful portion of the population that wants peace. It may well be that the presentation of a fait accompli will be enough to force a political settlement.”
“And if it does not?” asked the Lord President.
“The leaders of all of the major European powers are committed to this course of action,” replied the Prime Minister.
“Even if it means involving Britain in a war on a larger scale than that which we have known since the Falklands, perhaps since the Second World War?” asked the Lord President.
“What is our alternative? If we do not act and stop this now, consider the implications of a radicalized and united America. We know these arguments,” shot back Blunt.
Chicago, Illinois
The former President adjusted his glasses and carefully reviewed the speech that had been placed in front of him, slowly turning one page after another on his tablet. After a long pause he looked up at Sally Hughes.
“This isn’t bad,” he said, “who did they get to write it?”
“I did, Mr. President,” Hughes replied, “no one at a lower level - no speechwriters - have been read in on this thing.”
“And everyone… Everyone involved is in agreement as to the exact tenor of the speech?”
“This has all been carefully arranged,” replied Hughes, “we want it to look like a spontaneous movement. Your role isn’t to start it - you’re supposed to be the start of the landslide.”
“And protection is in place, fully?” said the former First Lady.
“Yes,” said Hughes, “your Secret Service detail has been augmented with carefully selected men and women. Apparently there have been some additional threats upon your life.”
Hughes smiled softly at her own cleverness as she completed that final remark.
“When does it start?” asked the former President.
“Tomorrow,” replied Hughes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
What Rough Beast
Two miles east of Yuma, Arizona
The 200th Division began to move to the west just after dawn. Ammunition and fuel remained in terribly short supply, but the remains of the 14th Infantry Division that were barely holding onto the city weren’t in much better shape. The 200th Division’s Merkava tanks were able to take them at a run, sending the first line of AUS defenses reeling and retreating after an engagement that was over in under a minute.
General Jackson surveyed the smoking ruins of the overrun Loyalist positions with satisfaction.
“Just get us into the city, and we’ll dig in there as best as we can,” he instructed the comman
der of the First Brigade.
“We’re moving as fast as we can, General, but the fucking Loyalists are still fighting, even if we’re pushing them back.”
“Keep moving,” ordered Jackson, “the fucking Mexicans are coming our way as well, and Colorado Springs still doesn’t have support for us.”
“If we had some more air support to break up these strongpoints we could do it in an hour,” said the Brigade commander.
“Well, you don’t,” replied Jackson shortly, “air missions are being conserved.”
Jackson and the brigade commander were both interrupted by the sound of the distant impact of Rebel artillery.
“We’re getting you as much support as you can,” continued Jackson, pointing in the direction of the batteries that were engaging Loyalist positions within the city itself, “and we’ll see if we can get you some air support later today. I don’t know. Fast movers are probably going to have to be conserved until the primary engagement with either the AUS forces or the Mexicans, but we might be able to get a couple of AC-130s or something. Maybe a few Apaches. But that’s about all and I wouldn’t count on even that.”
“Get us what you can,” replied the Brigade commander, “and I can promise that we’ll take the city quickly. If you don’t, it’s going to be a dog fight.”
California State Assembly, Sacramento, California
“Mr. Speaker,” began Miguel Torres, the charismatic and handsome Assemblyman for the 71st District, “with the main fighting nearing the borders of this state - ignoring the insurgent activity that plagues us every day and the areas of the state that are de facto held by the Rebels - the time has definitely come for us to consider our options going forward.”
“If the Rebels are willing to use nuclear weapons - if they have them and are more than willing to employ them - then we must admit something that no one in a position of power has been willing to do to date: that the odds of our defeating and conquering the Rebel government and the territory held by the Rebels is effectively zero. That does not mean, though, that we want to be ruled by the Rebels.”
“The truth is that there’s no reason - especially in this day and age - to hold onto something that just isn’t working. We’ve entered into a post-national age in any case. If we aren’t an imperial power - if we are a modern, multi-cultural, and progressive power than there’s no requirement for us to desperately hold on to the old trappings of the American state. Let us keep the best - keep what choose to keep - and start over. Let’s face the simple fact, as so many of us know from our own personal lives, that some people are simply better apart.”
“Therefore, Mr. Speaker, I move that the House immediately take up the resolution that I have handed to the Clerk this morning, calling for California to declare its neutrality within this conflict pending the creation of a new government of progressive states.”
The Oval Office, The White House
“What is this shit out of California?” raged President Bryan as he slammed his tablet down on the Resolute desk.
“I don’t know,” said Jamal Anderson, “I think it caught everyone as a complete surprise.”
“Bullshit,” hissed the President, “I know Torres - he was the co-chair of the re-elect. He’s Goddamned plugged in over there. He’s supposed to go from the House to the Senate to the Governor’s mansion. He doesn’t take a shit without polling and consulting first. Get me the fucking Governor on the phone.”
“We’ve tried already this morning, Mr. President,” replied Anderson, “they say that he’s not available at the moment. Apparently he’s in the field visiting some of the California National Guard in an area where the fighting has knocked out cellular service. They say that he’ll be back in an area where he can talk this afternoon.”
“Fucker,” said the President, slamming his fist down upon the desk before looking back up.
“What’s the situation in Arizona this morning?”
“The Rebel army took a licking from the Mexican attack, but they managed to hold. The Mexicans are going to bring up more forces this morning, but they’re very nervous, especially since the Rebel Congress declared war against them at around 2 o’clock this morning.”
“Can we at least get in touch with the Mexican President? Reassure him some?” asked Bryan.
“State has been working the phones all night. We’ve promised a lot of aid. Everything that we can. They’re shaky, but they’re holding firm - for the moment, anyways.”
“And in New York City?” asked the President.
“That’s a worse situation. Rebel special forces killed the Mayor and a lot of other people, which tore up the structure of the forces that he’d organized within the city. The NYPD are doing their level best to stay out of the thing. They don’t have a lot of forces there by any means - I suppose that there could even be an uprising by the people themselves or something - but for the time being I think that the Rebels have the city. Or, more accurately, they’re holding onto Manhattan. We’re scrambling what forces we can to move to that region, but all we have there are half-trained AUS forces and a scattering of National Guard units, most of which consist of people who weren’t fit for service on the front lines. Old men and young boys.”
“Well,” said the President, “fuck that. We can’t do anything about that today. It’s Arizona. Arizona is the key. If we can stop the Rebel offensive cold there - and keep Mexico in the war - then we’ll have cut off their best outlet to the Pacific. Get Hall and Ransom up here immediately.”
Temporary Seat of the Government of the United States, Colorado Springs, Colorado
‘The 200th Division managed to take control of Yuma by 8:30AM this morning,” explained General Monroe, “but they did it by the skin of their teeth. They’re low on everything and those soldiers have been in combat for a day and a half.”
“The Mexican Army has managed to close down the whole of the I-8, as well as auxiliary routes. It seems to be their determined intention to force a direct confrontation with the main body of the army, which is headed their way but is still at least a day away.”
“And if,” Secretary Preston interjected, “the 200th Division is bypassed or overrun, then the Army of the United States forces coming out of California can reinforce them and make our entire offensive untenable.”
“I should add,” noted Secretary Simpson, “that I have received an official warning, via the Consulate in Montreal, warning us that the Washington government has extended its own nuclear umbrella to Mexico. Just in case we’re thinking along the same lines as yesterday.”
“Thank you, Mr. Secretary,” said the Acting President, “that’s helpful to know.”
“Always glad to be of service,” replied the Secretary of State.
“It seems to me,” said the Secretary of Defense, “that the present disposition of these forces is as much an opportunity as it is a threat.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rickover.
“They’re heavily focused on the I-8. They recognize that San Diego and its port facilities are the primary target of our offensive operation at this point and so they’re trying to bar our movement in that direction. Now, given the position of the Army of the Colorado at present, that makes a great deal of sense. But armies aren’t fixed things.”
“Well, what’s the alternative?” asked the Acting President, “the enemy is there and we must strike them there.”
“Must we?” said Secretary Preston, an eyebrow raised as he stood up and walked towards the map.
“What if we ordered the Army of the Colorado to make a U-Turn and, instead of moving west along the I-8 towards San Diego, we sent them down the I-10 towards Los Angeles? The entire plan of the Loyalist campaign, including enlisting the involvement of the Mexicans, appears to be directed at thwarting the movement of the Army of the Colorado towards San Diego.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Secretary,” said General Monroe, “an army isn’t like your SUV. It’s true enough that the enemy’s plan of opera
tions is geared towards a campaign in the south, but so is ours.”
“But we have contingency plans,” said Preston.
“We have contingency plans for everything,” emphasized General Monroe, “that doesn’t meant that they’re good, realistic, or ready to be executed. That entire army is on the move at this very moment. Turning them around would be a logistical nightmare.”
“But it’s physically possible?” asked Rickover.
“Anything is possible,” said Monroe, “but the gap between possibility and desirability is a wide one, especially here.”
“If we turn,” said Preston, having convinced himself of his own idea, “we’ll undo their entire plan of operations. They won’t be in a position, especially given the nature of their own forces, to respond to such a movement in any serious fashion. We’ll cut them off and leave them bewildered.”
“And what about Arizona?” asked General Monroe, “they’ll have an open path into Phoenix if we move the whole army away and send them charging west at maximum speed.”
“We’ll open the depots to the Arizona State Guard,” said Preston, “and leave behind a brigade or two. The crazy fucking Arizonans will love it. We’ll give them all of the anti-tank missiles and light artillery that they can handle. They still won’t be a professional force, but they’ll give the Mexicans hell. Enough to stop them from taking Phoenix or, even if they do, making holding the place totally untenable.”
“We’re going to leave an American city open to foreign occupation?” asked Monroe incredulously.
“These are dangerous times,” replied Preston, “and its incumbent upon us to take risks.”
The Secretary of Defense turned to face the Acting President.
“Mr. President,” he insisted, “we have the chance to win this campaign - and maybe even end the war - with a single blow. The Loyalists won’t survive the fall of California.”
