by Adam Yoshida
I never did trust those fuckers, thought Moore as he flipped the page and began to read a story about the untrustworthy fuckers his side was dealing with.
The People’s Liberation Army, the Times reported, had seized a number of coastal islands along the Vietnamese coast, which it asserted were historic Chinese territory. The Vietnamese had protested and even sent gunboats into the region, but - with America entirely focused inwards - there was no one who was going to do a damned thing about that. Japan, another story was reporting, was using the occasion of the alignment of the United States with the People’s Republic of China as sign for it to begin a furious process of rearmament. The keel had just been laid for the first Japanese Aircraft Carrier to be built since the Second World War.
A lot of people wanted a world without America, thought Moore. He paused and looked up and saw both Mack Dallas and Juan Mancini walking on down towards him. Each of them came and took a seat.
Mancini took a look over at the man sitting at the table next to them.
“There are plenty of other seats available,” he said.
“Nah,” replied Moore, “this one is fine.”
“Jesus,” said Mancini, waving his hand in front of his face.
“It seems like we’ve made some real progress,” said Dallas as he tossed a bag with a pair of donuts in it onto the table. Moore grabbed one of the donuts and tore into it.
“Oh?” he asked, his mouth full.
“No one is happy with the new state of affairs,” explained Detective Mancini, “I mean, the old bearded Marxist was bad enough, but this new woman…”
The Detective shuddered.
“And,” he added, “of course, most of the the guys aren’t happy with the notion that we’re suddenly in a new country and all of the rest of that bullshit. That’s not unanimous - some of the more political people see an opportunity for themselves, but it’s pretty widespread.”
“Well then,” said Dallas, “what are we going to do about it?”
“Well,” said Mancini, “people are pissed, but they also saw what happened in the last uprising. And that was even before the Federation Army showed up on the streets of the city. People are angry, not suicidal.”
“Angry enough to fight?” asked Moore.
“If they can win,” said Mancini, helping himself to one of the donuts.
“Look,” said Dallas, “the entire uprising thing wasn’t our idea. That apparently came from POTUS directly on down and we all knew from the word go that it was a roll of the dice. Obviously it didn’t work.”
“Though it might have helped to distract them from the California invasion,” noted Moore.
“Yes, there is that,” agreed Dallas, before continuing, “anyways, that’s not what we’re talking about this time. Not unsupported. No sudden landings or paratroopers. Instead, what we’re think about is more in line with a regime change. The support of local authorities as the grand offensive is launched is going to be vital.”
“You want to launch a coup d’teat in New York City?” asked Mancini.
Dallas took a moment before replying.
“Basically. What we want to do is to establish a shadow government of New York City in the hours before our forces strike in this region. We’ll need to be more organized and we’ll need lots of friends.”
“These are uncertain times,” said Mancini, “people are unhappy, but they’re not sure what’s going to happen and they don’t want to choose wrong.”
“We can pay,” said Moore, his mouth full, “we can pay a whole fucking lot.”
“That will help,” conceded Mancini.
Vancouver, British Columbia, United Western Republic
Prime Minister James Beauregard contemplated his McGill class ring as he waited to rise in the House of Commons. The first week of his new Progressive government’s reign had been a little shaky, as both the Conservative and Liberty Party raged at the perfidy of the handful of defecting members who had provided the new Prime Minister with his majority. However, the acrimony of the sudden break-up of the Conservative-Liberty Party coalition was such that they were at least as angry at one another as they were at Beauregard and the Progressives. This was enough, when combined with the handful of votes that had been handed to the new Prime Minister without any real explanation (and which he didn’t intend to look too closely into, given the meeting that he had had the night before he took office himself), to allow him to survive two no confidence votes in rapid succession.
Now, however, the Prime Minister was about to set off an entire new firestorm.
“Mr. Speaker,” he began as he rose to his feet, “I apologize to the very short notice that was given in calling the House together this evening, but the news that I have is such that it ought to be delivered the to the House in person and without any delay.”
“What I am about to tell the House, Mr. Speaker, is very shocking - and it demands an immediate and comprehensive response. I have, just this evening, received confirmation of intelligence that we received some days ago via a source that we trust. This source, which I cannot name, provided us with vital information during the War of Independence. I regret that I cannot tell you much more than that, except to say that both my predecessor and myself have absolute faith in this source and this information.”
“We have received information from within the corridors of the Democratic Union itself, along with communications between officials of the DU and the Federation of North American States. Specifically, we are in possession of confidential communications which show that the former Provinces of Eastern Canada demanded that, as a condition to their membership in the Federation and the DU, that the Western Provinces would be reunited with the East and that this would be accomplished by force, if necessary.”
The entire House dissolved into an uproar.
“Not only that, Mr. Speaker,” said the Prime Minister, bringing the House to a hush as he resumed speaking, “but we also know that these assurances were given. Indeed, these assurances promised that the Western Republic would be incorporated into the new Federation regardless of the ultimate division of America. We have been told that, in fact, there are more than a few far-sighted individuals within the hierarchy of the Federation who view the conquest of the West as indispensable to the long-term strategic position of the Federation should they ultimately conclude some sort of peace with the United States. They believe that, if peace is concluded in the near future, they will be able to turn their weapons upon us because the United States will, in view of our neutrality in this conflict and the political situation that exists there at the present time, refuse to go to war in our defense.”
“Mr. Speaker, there is no one in this fundraiser who has worked longer or in greater earnest for the establishment of peace. There is no one here who wishes anymore than I do that we might never again know war in our country and, indeed, in the world itself. However, to resist conflict when it is thrust upon you - when it threatens the fundamental security of your country and your people - is every bit as wrong as it is to go to war without cause.”
“Therefore, Mr. Speaker, I move that this House declare that a state of war exists between the United Western Republic and the Federation of North American States.”
XII Corps Headquarters, Grand Forks, North Dakota
Lieutenant General William Thomas Jackson watched the live coverage of the vote in the Western Parliament with a wide smile on this face. Almost every member of the House had voted for war and only a handful of malcontents and extremists had even questioned the existence or the source of the secret evidence that had been the casus belli. After all, no one expected a Prime Minister of the left to engage or be complicit in the fabrication of such things.
“Here’s to you, you careless whoremonger!” said Jackson as he raised a glass of scotch to toast the Western Prime Minister.
“General?” asked Colonel Benson as she stepped into his tent.
“Oh, come in Colonel,” said Jackson as he too
k his feet down off the table that was serving as the temporary desk.
“Sir,” said Benson, “the DOD has reported that the border is now open and that there are units of the Western Republic Army on station to guide us to our final destination.”
“Then by all means,” ordered the General, “you may begin the advance.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Clash
HMS Queen Elizabeth (R08) , Mid-Atlantic Ocean
Vice-Admiral Travis Childers watched from the bridge of the Royal Navy’s flagship, the aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth, as the Russian aircraft carrier Admiral Kuznetsov pulled up alongside the rest of the group.
The Admiral, who had begun his career in the Royal Navy in the days when their primary mission had been to fight the Soviet Navy for control of the North Atlantic sea lanes in a projected Third World War had never expected that he would see a day like this. Nor did he ever expect that he would be asked to undertake the politically sensitive duty that had now been thrust upon him.
“I’ll be in my quarters,” the Admiral called out as he began to step below.
The Admiral has barely managed to amble through the door and sit down when there was a knock on the door.
“Admiral?” came a voice through that could be heard clearly through the closed door The Admiral got up and opened it to allow the man on the other side in.
“Your Grace,” said Admiral Childers with a reverent tone of voice.
“I would prefer Lieutenant-Commander Windsor, if you please, sir,” replied the middle-aged sandy-haired man who had stepped through the door.
“In this case, I think that the more formal style is appropriate,” said the Admiral, “as I have been asked to address you as a member of the Royal Family, and not as a naval officer.”
“I see,” said the Lieutenant-Commander, who also happened to have been created the Duke of Edinburgh a few years earlier.
“This is a very sensitive business, your Grace. I have been asked to personally convey to you a message from His Majesty, on account of your refusal to speak to him directly with regard to this matter.”
“If you must, sir,” said Lieutenant-Commander Windsor with a sigh.
“His Majesty conveyed to me - conveyed to me personally mind you - that he is very anxious with regard to your position on this ship. Specifically, that he is very concerned as to… As to, well, your position in the action in which we are about to engage.”
“Though I do not communicate with my father at the moment,” replied Lieutenant-Commander Windsor, “I would think that my position here would be to his benefit, would it not?”
“I don’t specialize in politics, Commander,” replied the Admiral, “though I would tend to agree. In any case, there is no question of reassigning you off of the ship, simply one of changing your billet.”
“You mean to send the rest of the wings off of this ship and Prince of Wales into battle while I fly a computer console somewhere? I don’t think so,” said the Prince stiffly.
“I could peremptorily order you to another station,” said the Admiral without malice in his voice.
“Don’t,” said Lieutenant-Commander Windsor.
“I won’t,” replied the Admiral quietly, his shoulders relaxing.
“Thank you, sir,” replied the Prince.
“You know,” said Admiral Childers, “there are more than a few people in the fleet who would have jumped at the chance to avoid this battle in particular. There are rather a few, of course, who would avoid battle in general, but there are more who would have chosen to avoid this battle in particular. Are you eager to fight?”
“No, Admiral,” replied Lieutenant-Commander Windsor.
“What do you think about all of this: about fighting Americans, I mean?”
“It’s not my place, as either an officer or as a member of the Royal Family to have an opinion about such things.”
“But you do have one, anyways, do you not?” asked Childers.
“Of course,” said the Prince, standing at attention and not volunteering anything further.
“That will be all,” said the Admiral with a nod.
“Sir,” said the Prince as he saluted and left the room.
Phoenix, Arizona
Governor Schmidt waited impatiently as the hold message played on the speakerphone in front of him. He idly wondered who exactly decided what the President’s hold music or message ought to be. He supposed that someone, somewhere, probably had to put great thought into it. After all, what if some horribly inappropriate choice accidentally made its way on into the mix and the White House Press Secretary was suddenly called to account for why some borderline-obscene pop song had made its way onto the President’s phone lines. Thinking it over, Schmidt let out a small laugh.
“Governor?” said Oscar Hogan, who had made his way back to Phoenix and was hanging out near the edge of the room.
“Oh, nothing,” said Schmidt as he continued to glare at the phone on the desk in annoyance.
Finally the repeating message stopped and a human voice cut through.
“The President will be on the line momentarily,” said the woman.
It was only a few more seconds before the voice of Terrance Rickover came clearly over the line.
“Governor, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“I’m glad you were able to get back to me, Mr. President,” said Schmidt.
“Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to return your calls earlier,” said Rickover, “as you imagine, I’ve been incredibly busy.”
“As have I,” replied the Governor, “rebuilding my state after so much of it was damaged by the invading Mexican Army.”
“Yes, I know. We’re hoping to get a better rebuilding package for you folks through the Congress as soon as we can. Though, of course, we’re having financing issues at the moment, since we’re sort of locked out of the regular bond market and all of that. Really, the extra financing that we do have is essentially a trillion dollar line-of-credit that’s been extended to us by the Chinese.”
“If the war was over, we’d see financial markets return to normal a little sooner,” said the Governor.
“Believe me, I’m trying to work on that,” said the Acting President, “we should have some real progress soon. I can’t share all of it, certainly not over the phone, but things are in progress. I can get in touch with the Speaker and see if we can shake loose a little more aid for Arizona.”
“Forget the money, sir. When are we going to do something about the fact that Mexico actually invaded this country and stop trying to bring liberal votes back into the nation?”
“I don’t think that’s a correct assessment, Governor,” said Rickover.
“Well, Mr. President, what I know is that there are people who are desperate and even some who are starving here in Arizona. I know that we have entire cities that are in need of rebuilding and yet, every day, we’re spending billions of dollars - billions each and every single day - on trying to force the people who started this war to rejoin the rest of the nation.”
“Governor,” said Rickover with a sigh, “what exactly is it that I can do for you?”
“You can forget about your own ambitions for a moment, Mr. President, and get back to helping the American people.”
“That’s what I do every single fucking day,” replied Rickover directly.
“I don’t think so,” said the Governor coldly.
“Well, thank you for the call, Governor,” said Rickover, “goodbye.”
After the call disconnected, Schmidt looked over at Hogan.
“Ok,” he said, “get your guy to come here. I want to talk to him man-to-man.”
Democratic Union, Temporary Office of the American Commissioner, Chicago, Illinois
“If we assume - and I believe that we must make such an assumption - that the declaration of war against us by the United Western Republic is a preliminary step to the use of their territory to stage operations against us, we
have to reconsider almost the whole of our defensive plan across the western frontier,” explained General Wesley.
“I can read a map, General,” replied the High Commissioner, visibly annoyed.
“Of course, High Commissioner,” said the General, “but the implications of this are actually quite profound and offer us opportunities, as well as dangers. It’s worth recalling that, unless they plan to pull off some kind of wild amphibious job, the mission in question will require the U.S. forces to march across all of Ontario before they are able to move into any of the former states of the Northeast. It’s certainly true that we do not have conventional forces in place to meet them and that we probably cannot move anything of substance in the short term, but we can use special and non-conventional forces to make supplying a force of the sort that they seem to be moving a hellish experience.”
The General brought up a new map for everyone in the room to watch.
“If we divert some air forces and special forces and have them work with indigenous forces, we believe that we can be very successful in creating disruption that will leave the forces crossing the former Canadian provinces exhausted by the time that they reach the old U.S. border. At that point - somewhere along the borders of New York State - we will hit them with conventional force. Depending on our efforts to that point, we will either rout them or at least shock them and force them to pull back.”
“This all sounds very reasonable,” said the High Commissioner, “and like something that could be handled by the relevant military authorities. Why am I being briefed on this right at the moment? Is there something that you want me to approve?”
“Yes, High Commissioner,” said the General, “I don’t want to bog you down in the details, but we believe that the resistance to the forces coming out of Western Canada will be much greater if you, using your authority as the Acting Commander-in-Chief, call the units of the Quebec militias into national service and order them into Ontario.”
