by Adam Yoshida
At the same time, however, Andrew Groves wasn’t quite sure if he’d be safe if he remained in Washington. One of his former colleagues in the Internal Revenue Service had been killed the previous week, shot as he attempted to get in his car and go to work in the morning. Who knew what the U.S. Government would do to those who had collaborated with the Federation Government when it came back? Thus, after agonizing over the decision for weeks, Andrew, his wife Lara, and their two children had finally left their suburban Washington home less than six hours before the U.S. Army came.
Gas was in short supply all across the Federation, but Andrew had anticipated this. For months he’d been slowly siphoning gas out of his tank into cans that were hidden in his garage. This was, of course, in violation of all of the emergency laws enacted by the Federation that Andrew, as a good progressive, ought to have been bound to obey, but he was also a husband and father. This meant that, when the time came, he had enough gas to put into the tank of their old Volvo to get outside of the city. However, that was about all he had.
“I think there’s a station up ahead,” he said, pointing at an Exxon sign.
“I think they’re closed, honey,” said Lara, squinting to see what the sign in front of the station said.
“There looks like there’s a light on inside,” said Andrew, “they might just be saving power.”
“Ok, ok,” said Lara, who was tired of arguing about every detail with Andrew.
Slowly they pulled up to the gas station, coming up towards the curve and then pulling up into the lot.
“It’s closed,” said Lara.
“Alright, you’re right,” said Andrew as he began to turn the car around. It was their daughter who screamed first, followed seconds later by Lara. Andrew brought the car to a sudden stop and turned around to see what was the matter. The first thing that struck him was the simple fact that there was a body hanging from the rafters near the filing pumps. His first instinct was to drive off, but then he saw the sign that read “enemy of America.” Then he took a look at the face and froze. Lara did likewise.
“Is that?” she asked. Andrew could only nod as he fumbled for his phone.
“What are you doing?” Lara said.
“It’s awful, I know,” said Andrew, “but the world needs to know.”
Without another word he raised his phone and took a picture of the corpse of Kevin Bryan, who was now definitely the former President of the United States.
Democratic Union, Temporary Office of the American Commissioner, Chicago, Illinois
“How the fuck can it be that the first I hear about this is via Goddamned Twitter?” asked the High Commissioner as he viewed the pictures of Kevin Bryan that were now rocketing around the world.
“Well, Mr. High Commissioner,” said Minister Ransom, “the entire area is in chaos. We ordered that Camp David be evacuated, with the former President as being one of the highest priorities. We still have Camp David, for a few more hours at least, incidentally, but clearly something happened during the evacuation. Also, I should add, that this matter did technically fall within the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Justice.”
“Oh no, you’re not going to put that bullshit on me, Gerald! They fucking tried to kill me yesterday too!” roared the Minister of Justice.
“Those camps were entirely in your control. Just another military fuck-up,” she said, pointing a finger directly in the face of the Defense Minister.
“Get your finger out of my face,” Ransom snapped.
“Cool it!” shouted the High Commissioner.
The Justice Minister dropped her finger but continued to scowl at Ransom.
“Now,” said the High Commissioner, “I think we have to consider the possibility that, as tragic a loss as this is, that it can also be used to our benefit. These and other revenge killings need to be played up as much as possible. Fill every media outlet with it. Make them the top story on every channel. Use this one, but especially look for the pettiest possible cases. Make it clear that, when the right-wing wins, they’re going to lynch everyone the way that Kevin Bryan got lynched. And yes, use that word.”
“I’ll make sure that the media does their patriotic duty,” said the Minister of Justice.
“Good, I knew I could count on you,” said the High Commissioner, “now, I do need to talk to Gerald for a few minutes about exclusively military matters.”
“Alright,” said the Justice Minister, “I’m going to need to crack the whip a little bit anyways.”
After she left the room, the High Commissioner sighed.
“She was a blow-hard when she was in the Senate and I was in the White House,” he said, “and old age has not improved her.”
“No, sir,” agreed Ransom.
“Ok,” said the High Commissioner, “give it to me straight.”
“It’s not good, sir. The defenses in the Washington sector collapsed. Wesley is holding on along the St. Lawrence and we have significant defense forces in some cities. New York, Chicago, Philadelphia. Though, of course, we thought we did in Washington as well and they were able to use very precisely-targeted air power to take that apart in an afternoon. They could very well do the same in some of those other places.”
“Though it appears, from the intelligence briefings I’m getting, that they had prepared the Washington offensive for some period of time,” noted the High Commissioner.
“That’s certainly true,” agreed Ransom.
“Our European partners are getting very jumpy,” said the High Commissioner.
“Well, with Russians on the move and riots in almost all of their major cities, who can blame them?” said Ransom.
“I know, I know,” the High Commissioner waved his hand into the air, but they have to see just how close we are to striking some truly epic blows for progress. All we need to do is to hold the field for another week - and do it in such a way as convinces the people of the United States that we can hold out a lot longer than that and we’ll be able to negotiate some sort of peace.”
“Just over a week,” agreed Minister Ransom, repeating what had become dogma in the Democratic Union’s highest circles.
No. 10 Downing Street, London, United Kingdom
The latest news from the east was grim.
“Could it really have been that fast?” asked the Prime Minister.
“I’m afraid so,” explained the Foreign Secretary, “the Russians had been organizing underground groups throughout the Baltic for years and they really just needed to flip the switch to put them into action. The only way we could even think about ousting the pro-Russian groups in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania now would be through the application of force. What domestic resistance elements have already emerged could not possibly do anything of the sort on their own.”
“That would be madness,” said the Prime Minister.
“I would have to agree,” said the Foreign Secretary, “and the Russians know it. That’s why, perhaps, my colleague in Moscow has proposed an alternative resolution.”
“Oh?” asked the Prime Minister.
“He proposes that Russia should become a member of the Democratic Union.”
“What?”
“Simply put, he suggests that Russia - together with all of its eastern European… allies… ought to become a full member of the Democratic Union, with all that that would entail.”
“This is simply a shocking proposal,” said the Prime Minister.
“It is, but in view of the desperation of our situation, I don’t know if it’s one that we should dismiss immediately.”
“Well, I suppose not, Sir Gavin. But how would it work?”
“Put quite simply, all of the nations within the Russian sphere that are currently outside of the DU would get representation at Brussels and, as well, Russian soldiers would join the joint DU military forces that we currently have in place.”
“What they propose, in essence, would be to recreate the Warsaw Pact, in other words,” protested the Prime Mini
ster.
“Well, perhaps in some sense,” agreed the Foreign Secretary, “though, of course, the political and ideological structure of the whole thing would be altogether different. For example, it isn’t as though they have any desire to transform our internal political systems for their own end. In fact, they might very well actually bolster them by acting as a brake upon the advances being made by the radical right-wing in this country and the rest of Europe.”
“Do you really think that we could tolerate Russian soldiers in Germany, or France, or even here in Britain?” asked the Prime Minister.
“Perhaps,” said the Foreign Secretary, “we did, after all, have American soldiers in this country until quite recently. The same may be said of much of Europe. We would be talking about allied forces, not an army of occupation. There would be some pushback, of course. However, much of that would be coming from quarters that are already absolutely set against us.”
“Explore it,” ordered the Prime Minister, “but as an absolute last resort.”
“I fear that’s the point that we have arrived at, Prime Minister,” said the Foreign Secretary sadly.
XII Corps Headquarters, Saint-Jerome, Quebec
“Get the 200th Division to Trois-Rivières as quickly as you can,” General Jackson ordered as he reviewed the latest reports from the Montreal front. The FNASA had managed to gather enough forces in that region to make a direct assault crossing of the St. Lawrence an impossibility. Given this he had concluded that the best hope for victory along the St. Lawrence was to conduct an extraordinarily wide flanking manoeuvre that would see a large portion of the army swing more than one hundred miles to the north.
“What’s left of the 1st BCT is in pretty rough shape,” pointed out Colonel Dunford.
“Damnit,” said Jackson, “I know that. But their forces on the island of Montreal are hardly in a position to offer any serious resistance either, now are they?”
“We should get them out of there,” said Dunford quietly.
“And we will,” said Jackson. We’re not going to leave them behind forever, but they’re good soldiers - they can hunker down and hold that position for a bit if that’s what we need.”
“Ok,” said Colonel Benson, “we can have the rest of the Corps charge north. But what if they blow those bridges as well? They’ll contest any attempt to force a crossing.”
“We need to look at this at a theatre-wide level,” said Jackson, “so let’s not think about Trois-Rivières and Montreal as separate actions. Let’s think about the entire St. Lawrence as a single theatre of operations. What advantages do we have over the enemy forces in this area?”
“Speed,” said Dunford, “we’re a heck of a lot more mobile than they are.”
“Air power,” said Benson.
“I would agree that those are our biggest advantages,” said Jackson, “and what are our disadvantages?”
“Numbers and local support,” said Dunford, “they have more troops and they have eyes absolutely everywhere we go.”
“Right,” said Jackson.
“If we’re trying to take advantage of speed, shouldn’t the 42nd Division take the lead on the march up to Trois-Rivières? After all, their equipment is in better shape than that of the 200th Division. They’ve been having breakdowns the entire way here,” said Dunford.
“No,” said Jackson, “I want the 200th Division to take the lead on the march to Trois-Rivières. But I want the 42nd Division right behind them and fully supplied. In fact, we’ll need to make sure that we have extra fuel laid on for this.”
“I can see to that,” said Dunford.
“And we’re going to need to talk to Colorado. We’re going to need a few other things.”
Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany
The Bundeskanzler simply looked at the video screen with his mouth hanging open.
“That would be impossible,” he said.
“I can see where that comes from,” said Prime Minister Blunt, “but now is the time that we must consider making the impossible a reality.”
After a long pause Aldo Scotti, the President of the Commission, finally spoke.
“I cannot imagine that the institutions of the Union would ever tolerate such a turn of events…”
“Oh, shut up,” said the British Prime Minister, “it’s you and your like who have, by your bungling and incompetence, brought us to this juncture.”
“That’s garbage!” shouted the Italian Prime Minister, causing the entire conversation to dissolve into shouts in multiple languages.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” shouted the French President, so loudly that he strained his voice, finally bringing a temporary reprieve for the ears of everyone on the call.
“We have riots in the streets of all of our cities. I can’t even bear the look at the latest GDP numbers. If any of us faced an election tomorrow, we’d be thrown out of office and replaced by fascists. How much worse does the situation need to get before we admit, to ourselves and one another, that radical corrective action is needed?”
“Germany can control its streets very well on its own, thank you,” sniffed the Chancellor.
“But for how long?” asked Prime Minister Blunt.
“All of us must know now that this adventure in America has proven to be a disaster and the business before us is saving ourselves. In order to save democracy and progressive values from the worst disaster to befall them in a century, we have to take extreme measures. Otherwise no one will be exempt from the consequences, including both you and Germany, Herr Bundeskanzler.”
“I recognize that,” said the Chancellor, “but Russian soldiers on European soil… Allowing Russia to effectively absorb much of Eastern Europe once again. We spent a generation guarding against this!”
“The Russian proposal is not final,” said Prime Minister Blunt, “but I think that we need at least to give it a fair hearing.”
After everyone agreed at least to do that and disconnected from the conference call, Chancellor Solf leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. As he was rubbing his eyes his personal secretary came tentatively through the door.
“Herr Bundeskanzler,” he said, “you’re wanted on the phone.”
“I’ve had enough for today, Rudi,” the Chancellor said in response.
“It’s Moscow on the phone.”
The Chancellor got up with a start.
Mobile, Alabama
“Now,” explained Governor Robert Schmidt, “I don’t like the so-called progressives any more than the rest of you. I don’t want them running my life or educating my kids. I think that you share that opinion.”
The crowd cheered its assent.
“But, that being said, as much as I don’t want those folks teaching my kids, I also don’t want to send my kids - or anyone - off to die while trying to conquer them. I, for one, say that we should get on with the business of running a free country and if some people don’t want to join us in doing that: well, that’s too damned bad for them”
“The bizarre notion that we will have somehow failed unless every square mile of territory over which the American flag once flew is retained, no matter the cost in either lives or money, is bizarre and really monomaniacal on the part of the Acting President. I resent the idea being put forward by the Acting President’s campaign that you and I are somehow less patriotic because we don’t want to kill people in order to force them to salute the flag.”
“Patriotism, I would argue - true patriotism - is a sense of unforced love of country and mutual willingness to embrace the rights and responsibilities of citizenship. What Terrance Rickover wants, however he may spin it, is to make us an empire. He wants us to conquer. First here in North America and first places that we still show as being parts of the United States on our maps. But he has ambitions beyond that. How many of our children should die in the Acting President’s wars?”
“Do you really think that this war is going to end on the St. Lawrence? Or even after we feed our
children into the meat-grinder of a battle that any attempt to take Chicago will be? Or are we going to, especially in the aftermath of our recent humbling, going to go about in search of new dragons to slay?”
“I know the Acting President. I’ve worked with President Rickover. I believe that he’s a good man. I believe that he’s done a great deal to preserve our freedoms. But I also believe that, having done that, he has served his purpose and it is time for him to go before he manages to get a lot of good people killed.”
Beijing, People’s Republic of China
President Sun Lei took his time as he reviewed the figures that had been laid before him one final time. He was aware that he was keeping the men in front of him waiting, but he didn’t care. In fact, he welcomed the opportunity to remind the Generals who had become very full of themselves since the liberation of Taiwan just who was in charge of things.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “thank you for coming. Please take a seat.”
The Generals and other members of the Central Military Commission of both the People’s Republic and the Communist Party of China took their seats in front of the President’s desk.
“I have read your plans,” he said, “and they are approved as written.”
Everyone around the room visibly relaxed on hearing Lei’s words.
“I just wanted to ensure that we were all on the same page with regard to a few specific details,” continued the President.
“For example, if you are saying that the liberation of only some of the disputed areas is the best that we can accomplish from a military point of view, than I accept your advice. Is that so?”
“Well,” began General Wang Liguo, “I think that the plans, in sum total, represent a view as to what can be accomplished.”
“A view?” asked the President, “not the view?”
“A view,” repeated Wang Liguo.
“Very well,” said Sun, “and I’ve said, I am absolutely willing to accept the best military advice that can be offered and will accept that absolutely. If you are saying, for example, that we are too weak to confront the Japanese, even now, then I will accept that.”
