“President Balewa,” I bowed my head slightly, “It is truly a pleasure to meet you.”
“And I you, General Wolf. I am pleased at the progress you are making in my country!”
“You are quite welcome, Mister President – although that’s a part of why I requested this audience.”
He ushered me further into his opulent office, and offered me a seat in a more relaxed corner – a plush chair and couch, snuggled off to one side so as to suggest a greater degree of intimacy.
“So, General Wolf, how can I be of assistance to you? I certainly hope you have not been ordered home, or that your mission is changing!” His accent, while easily distinguishable, still showed a high degree of education.
“Please sir, James is perfectly fine, I don’t need to stand on formality. No, I wanted to reiterate our mission to you, but also to relay the orders I’ve been given, as they may be a little strange to you, and I wanted to speak to you directly.”
The look of concern on his face was one I knew I’d need to get rid of, soon.
“Sir, in a nutshell, I am your primary liaison with the United States. That’s… not standard, however, it’s also borne out of the results that we’ve had since we’ve been in your lovely country, helping free your people from the restraints and strictures placed upon them by foreign powers.”
“Which ‘we’ group do you mean, James? Your special operations, or the troops that came after?” Oh my. A sharp cookie, or at least a well-informed one.
“All of it, sir, since the beginning.”
“I wondered, if ‘The Jew’ was a sideline reference to you – although from what my sources claim, it was originally just ‘JW’. Is that so?” Time to level with this guy.
“Yes sir, it is.”
“Then please, let us drop formality altogether – call me Az, as all of my other friends do. I suspect we’re going to become very good friends indeed.”
“Thank you si- Az, I hope that is the case – although that all depends on just what flavor you intent to use to season this recipe of cultural intermingling that both of our forces are working on. I don’t want to over-speak myself, but I am curious as to what degree of independence you truly want – since there seem to be a lot of rumors swirling around that would suggest different things than what I’ve seen with my own eyes.”
“Ahh… so you are indeed a man who does not mince words. I like this, James. I like this very much. I am aware of the suggestion that I am little more than a pawn of the United States – there is even a new rumor growing now that you are here to be my next puppet master.”
“I assure you Az, that is not my intent.”
“Is it, however, the intent of those who issue your orders to you?”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”
“So, then, we would seem to be at an impasse as to my intent, and the intent of your masters.”
“Perhaps. And… perhaps not.”
His eyes twinkled. “This doesn’t sound like a general I’m speaking with, now, James. Who am I speaking with?”
With a half smirk, knowing full well what a risk I was taking, I answered immediately. “You’re talking to the man who’s going to make sure that your country is able to self-realize, without the knowledge of those who would wish otherwise.”
Both of his eyebrows raised. “That is a bold statement for someone who I’ve never met before. Why would you state such a thing, young man?” I was probably his junior – but not by much – it reminded me that my forty-ninth birthday was only next week.
“Because of this, Az.” I pulled a folded piece of paper and put it on the coffee table between him on his couch, and I in his comfortable chair. He picked it up and unfolded it, then looked at me quizzically.
“I don’t think I understand. This is a financial statement of one of the newer export companies here, one that is actually coming under a significant amount of inquiry due to the rapid rate of growth they have seen.”
“Az… that is my company. I’d like to assure that it is legitimized, and no, I am not here to threaten you – or to bribe you. I want the same kind of success for your country that you do – and I’m more than willing to speak with you and show you how I did that – and I’d like to help you do it to a far greater degree.”
The bait was presented, and he took it easily. Setting the hook took no more effort than to show him what I’d had Steve McDirk prepare for me only a week prior: Explaining to him how to bypass many of the legal restrictions and pressures in the US, through the morass of shell corporations that Steve had been standing up.
That got the president – the ruler of the country I was supposed to pacify not only from foreign invaders other than myself, but that I was also expected to pacify to make it malleable for the US to control – into the mindset of business. It was a short trip from there to showing him how to prosper not only as an individual running a business, but also as a country.
It wasn’t simple, but it also wasn’t difficult, to get things moving again. Once I knew that the media outlets in Africa were not going to stab me in the back, and that the South African – soon to be just “African” – government was fully supporting me just as much as my own nation was, I got my troops rolling.
I see that I’ve completely left out the key piece to all of this: The Molecular Compilators. Those things, in my childhood, would have been pure magic out of a story. Now? They weren’t so far-fetched, although they were still a pretty amazing piece of work. In a nutshell, you provided raw materials in one end, and out the other end came the contents that you’d identified as the part or product to be manufactured. Generally, this was specifically hard goods, but it would do liquid as well – which, with the rate of production we needed, meant we actually needed more than what they could produce. These were intended to be augmentation to our normal supply chain however, and we took advantage of it – in time. The two that had been provided through the logistics supply chain came with techs who trained JTF6 troops on maintenance procedures, troubleshooting, and gave them a quick run-down on just how they worked, why, and what was the best way to produce whatever we intended to. The techs disappeared, and the first order of business was, surprise, surprise: Make another one – or in our case, two. The two we’d originally gotten remained dedicated to the needs of the in-theater troops – and they would be in use nearly constantly, once they started in on production. The other two that we fabricated, using the first two to produce components and in some cases, entire assemblies, were split – one for “The Company” – and the other for general use. “General Use” meant augmentation of the two dedicated to the Ninth Army, but it also meant for use by companies who needed advanced technology production in South Africa.
That, frankly, produced a lot of goodwill – and the way that Az played it both to the population that had elected him, as well as to his government, meant he both gained popularity, as well as shed much of the suggestion that he was nothing more than a puppet.
I got offensive operations got back underway shortly after the discussion with Az; we knew we had a lot of effort to put in before we could call the country “pacified.” It took years – literally, six years – before we had the lower two thirds of the continent resembling, “pacified.”
That was okay, up to that point, but a year or so into the campaign, I found myself fighting not only the enemy – at this point, clearly a combination of Chinese and Euro trash – but also my own soldier’s morale.
We did have some gorgeous territory around us. Factor in that we had minimal infrastructure implementation needs (let’s face it, we could produce literally ANYTHING we needed at this point), and it was a mental hop, skip, and a jump to setting up our own mallmunity resorts – and we did. The Ivory Coast (La Cote d’Ivoire) and Kenya both had major investment money pushed into them, with not only your expected resort capabilities, but also several medical facilities at each that could have easily equaled anything you’d find at Walter Reed back in the US
– in fact, better than Reed. While we didn’t have the experience that most American medical professionals would have, we certainly had the skill, with doctors from Africa. Augmenting that was technology we now had available to us to make any sort of prosthetic we needed, and my troops didn’t even need to cross the ocean for major medical issues short of death.
Cape Town, however, was a special case. Those who needed truly extensive care, and needed more than what even Ivory Coast and Kenya had to offer, went to Cape Town. We’d made it the bright shining star in Africa’s medical circles – and everyone who was anyone went there for medical treatment. Because that facility had been funded through my shell corporations, and because it wouldn’t have been possible for it to happen without the Ninth Army’s assistance (Yes, I had no qualms whatsoever about using my logistics divisions to build, train, and support it!), any soldier was treated there, free of charge. That doesn’t even begin to touch on the barracks that we built within the resort – much as I’d used my own property back in North Carolina to support troops who’d done especially well, we’d build this resort to cater to the whims of soldiers who’d gone above and beyond the call of duty on our campaign, and they were treated like gods at Cape Town. By 2121, there were even new arkscrapers going up in Durban, Cape Town, and other major cities – although we did focus on South Africa, since those were the areas that we truly needed to keep secured for both our needs, as well as the continental nation of Africa.
During all of this, I had no oversight from home – and I was king and god to all of my troops. I was extremely well regarded by the rest of the population – since my Ninth Army had brought in rule and prosperity the likes of which had never been seen before. It did require a lot of training and leveraging of President Balewa’s intelligence apparatus to keep it running smoothly – but run smoothly it did, and he found himself in a very comfortable position when his second election came around in 2120, he won it handily – with easily the largest margins ever seen in the history of South Africa, much less the continental nation we were building together.
I did have periodic requests for information from Commander Neuman, not to mention the media – but I answered Neuman’s questions succinctly and quickly, and his media lapdogs were escorted everywhere, and not allowed to interact too much with the general population that might inadvertently let slip anything I didn’t want them to know about.
He was pleased, the media was pleased, and apparently, everyone back home thought I was doing just a grand old job.
We started to slow the optempo, as we found ourselves in a position of having to transition to a different method of war. The lower two thirds of the continent were lush, green, and bluntly, rather pretty. North Africa was, however, occupied by the Sahara desert, which was going to be a serious pain in the ass to clear, and to maintain. We needed more time to refit, train, regroup, and prepare for that push – and I actually decided it was worth the risk of a more formal status update to my boss, so he didn’t get the wrong idea.
04 JAN 2124
In Re: African Theater Operations Status
Sir,
Operations continue; as indicated by prior SITREP two thirds of the continent have been pacified and brought under South African rule.
President Azizi Balewa continues to aid and succor the Ninth Army, and remains loyal and obedient to the United States’ needs in this region.
The Ninth Army is temporarily standing down for purposes of rest and refit, and will commence preparations for a renewed offensive in six months’ time.
//signed//
Brevet General James Wolf
African Theater Commander
That was the first of two things I had on the top of my to-do list; the second was to have a discussion with the generals under my command.
The briefing was short and to the point, as all of my briefings were, and essentially told them to take charge of their units, to rest and refit as best they were able – they had six months’ worth of time to resupply and prepare for the upcoming offensive, which I did not expect to commence for a year’s time. In that period, I would be largely unavailable, as there were outstanding preparations necessary for the renewed offensive that I would be taking a direct hand in.
The highest-ranking JTF6 officers – a Major General and several brigadier generals – were going to be running things in my absence, and while they had more than ample authority to conduct any and all operations they felt were necessary, they also had the ability to reach me for issues that required my specific attention. I cautioned them also – any unnecessary communications to me that could have been handled by my subordinates would result in immediate relief for cause and confinement to barracks until my return. I was serious – I didn’t want to be bothered unless my trusted people were in a position to believe it was utterly necessary.
After dismissing them, I had a brief discussion with just a few other people – I needed a few minor things, and I needed a few major things, and I needed them quietly, and I needed them quickly.
Pangan got me some hard currency as used on the streets, back home – and did some research into who would be viable contacts in the Manhattan area. I needed proximity to the culture that was indicative of our homeland, since the hard times that General Watts had referenced so long ago were showing visible signs in the current culture.
President Balewa had arranged for an R&D project to be implemented to show off the technology that we’d given his country – and had arranged for a small but disposable craft to be manufactured – stealthy, and, largely powered by yours truly once it was aloft. The plan was to catch a tow to a ridiculously crazy height (relatively speaking) by another aircraft, then release and use compressed hydrogen to handle lift. At that point, I was staying ‘up’ there, and then I could use a very simple but effective transmission to convert my pedaling to forward thrust. Az also paved the way to assure both that no-one would know where I was as well as make suggestions that he was in contact with me.
Breshears got me a modified wingsuit and parachute rig, as well as the oxygen and hydrogen tanks I’d need.
I was going to take a little trip home.
Chapter 36: In the Still of the Night
By the middle of March, I was ready to go. The trip was an interesting one; we’d already pushed further north up into what used to be called Senegal and had secured it. We launched in a cargo aircraft, ostensibly on a “reconnaissance” mission that had me officially no-where near it. Officially, I and my little “DaedalusX” ultralight were in the aircraft before it ever even got to Senegal.
The climb was uneventful; I was already dressed in my wingsuit, and my chute was packed and in place – only one; no reserve. No real point – if I was going to become a human shovel, I could just as easily cut my chute loose and try to glide in.
The release, however, was a hell of a rush. The aircraft had been designed for the wings to expand by virtue of the fall – it would automatically turn itself into a glider. That wasn’t going to work as well at forty five thousand feet where the air was thinner, however. I’d already planned for aircraft failure – I’d cut loose the two pins holding me in my seat, roll backwards out of the aircraft and wingsuit it back towards “civilization” – while pinging through my implant to any receiving base. The aircraft that dumped me was actually going to stay on station for a bit, watching to make sure nothing went horribly wrong, but they could always get bumped out of the pattern by other circumstances.
I rolled out, backwards, and the aircraft’s delta shape automatically reoriented itself – a quick glance out either side showed that the wings were already starting to inflate, and I sent a quick ping to the pilots.
So far, so good, stay on station for another few minutes while I orient, please.
- Brevet General Wolf
I got a brief “wilco” message in response, and continued my internal tasks. The wings were already unfurling like a bird’s, but a shot of inflation power from the hydrogen tanks f
lipped them the rest of the way out in short order – and I felt my weight increase as the wings took a bite. A glance behind showed that the tail had spread out as desired as well, also hydrogen filled. The aircraft was a monocoque fuselage, and the wings were carbon-fiber braced, with an ultralight skin stretched over them. It could take a fair bit of wind shear, but wasn’t invincible – I still had to watch my flight path carefully.
We’d planned this out in advance; prevailing winds tend to go OTHER than the direction that I needed, in the north Atlantic. So, departing from just off the coast of Senegal, I would head towards Puerto Rico. That first leg would run me about 16 hours if I just sat on my ass and did nothing – 3200 miles, give or take, but with a 200 mile per hour tailwind. The gearing on that genius little transmission that Az’ scientists worked out meant I could add another hundred miles per hour to that – netting me, if I could find a good wind stream, about 300mph.
Rage & Fury Page 36
