by Gus Frazer
Getting out of the Patrol back at the house, John was unsteady on his feet, clearly upset at the sight of his home in this state. He and Jess walked around the burnt remains while Finn unloaded the Patrol in the shed. Finn figured it was best to give them time alone.
After walking around the house, John and Jess stood at the front. The sun was low now and the air was getting cooler.
‘So many memories of this house,’ murmured John, staring blankly at the charred ruins, ‘so many beautiful memories.’
‘I know, Dad. I have them, too. But isn’t that the point? The fire can destroy our home but it can’t destroy our memories,’ replied Jess, a tear welling in her eye as she put her arm around her dad — her invincible father who had been a tower of strength her whole life.
John choked back the lump in his throat, determined not to let himself be consumed by emotions. ‘Yep, I guess you’re right, Jessie-girl,’ he patted her back tenderly.
Jess wasn’t going to choke anything back. The tears welled up and spilled down her cheek, the corners of her mouth quivering and pulling down. She tucked her head into the side of John’s chest as he put his big arm around her shoulder.
‘I remember you and your brother playing out here for hours. You two used to fight like cats and dogs, but if either one of you got hurt or was in trouble, you were always there for each other. Do you remember when your brother broke his ankle when you two were out tearing around down the drive?’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ Jess replied, her voice quivering through her tears. ‘He was being an idiot, trying to climb that big old tree down the driveway.’
‘That’s right. But when he fell, you piggybacked him all the way back to the house. I remember standing on the veranda here and seeing you coming down the drive, carrying your brother.’ John continued, tears in his eyes and a smile on his face. ‘You were both crying like mad, but my God, I knew you two would always be there for one another. I knew that so long as you two were together out on the farm, or anywhere for that matter, you’d be fine.’ John swallowed hard, resisting the urge to wipe his eyes, determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of his daughter, his only surviving child, his only family.
Jess smiled at the memory, her face damp with tears, eyes glazed and distant, looking over the ruined homestead that lay before them.
‘It’s funny,’ said John, regaining control of his emotions, ‘I actually thought of that moment the other day, when you brought Finn in from the desert, all shot-up and dying.’
‘I think Aaron would have liked Finn. They have a similar way, don’t you think, Dad?’ Jess said, looking up at her father.
John smiled. ‘Yes, Jessie. Yes, I do.’
They stood there until the light was squeezed from the sky by the sinking sun. They talked a bit more, but mostly they stood and simply remembered in silence.
Looking over the smouldering remains, Finn guessed that the Chinese had been in a hurry, as they had not bothered to stay and see that the building had fully caught alight. The sheds were relatively unscathed, while the homestead was partially gutted, but not completely.
That night they slept in the shed. Sleeping mats on the hard concrete floor took the edge off, but it was not the most comfortable of nights. In the morning they all woke feeling achy and cold. Finn felt like he had a hangover, his head pounding, mouth dry and feeling nauseous. It was dehydration again. His body had still not recovered from the ordeal with the Chinese, and yesterday he’d barely drunk anything.
The large shed they slept in had a fully-kitted kitchen that was used by the farm hands at times throughout the year, when the cattle were brought in.
Over breakfast, Finn was distant. Both John and Jess noticed it but didn’t say anything. Something was clearly on his mind — Finn had never been good at masking when he was deep in thought.
After they had eaten, Finn went outside. He stared out to the mountain range in the distance. Finn reflected on how, if Jess had not found him in the desert and brought him back here, he would in all likelihood have died. If they had not attacked the Chinese transportation in the area, the Chinese would not have gone on reprisal attacks. He did not feel guilty for what he had done; he did not regret anything. But he did feel some sense of responsibility. Any which way he looked at it, he felt responsible for his actions.
Jess joined him outside on the veranda. ‘Hey, you all right there, Finn? You seem pretty distant today,’ she said with a worried smile.
‘Oh hey,’ he said, her presence pulling him out of his thoughts. ‘Yeah. I’ve just been thinking about a few things.’
‘I just want to thank you for what you did yesterday,’ Jess said, her voice husky with emotion. ‘You were really amazing out there. We really appreciate it. I, um … I really appreciate it.’
Finn looked at Jess, his face softening under her gaze. ‘It’s nothing, no problem at all — God, I owe you my life. It was really the least I could do.’
Jess smiled and blushed, breaking her gaze from Finn’s eyes.
‘I actually have something to ask, something that would mean a lot to me,’ said Finn seriously. ‘I want to stay and help you guys rebuild the homestead.’
‘You don’t need to do that. It’s not your fault,’ said Jess, genuinely shocked at his offer.
‘No, I know, but I want to help. My parents know I’m safe, the army doesn’t know where I am — in fact, they probably think I’m dead. Besides, once you guys are back in the house, I can go back to the fighting.’
‘Finn, no. We really can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not asking me. I’m telling you that’s what I want to do. Please, Jess … I want to help,’ Finn said, looking at Jess pleadingly.
‘I … well, I guess … I don’t know Finn, are you sure?’ she asked, her forehead crinkling with concern. ‘Dad and I could really do with some help. He can’t do it all on his own and I don’t think there are many builders who will come all the way out here — especially with our current neighbours.’
‘Jess, please. I want to help. It would be good to create something rather than running around destroying,’ said Finn earnestly.
‘Well, so long as it’s okay with Dad,’ said Jess.
‘Okay, great. Well, I’ll be over at the house then,’ said Finn awkwardly.
Halfway to the house, the blue heeler from the day before ran over to greet him, tail wagging furiously. Finn bent down to pat him with a wry smile. ‘Cheeky bugger. You scared the shit out of me, but don’t tell the others. Okay?’
Chapter 17
After the horrific attack on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, General Stephens was inundated with calls from politicians and lobbyists insisting that Australia lay down its arms against the Chinese and to let them continue mining the land in peace.
He had spent the last five days staying at Kirribilli House, overseeing the clean-up of the Harbour Bridge with barely any sleep. Sitting now at his desk back in SOF, shirt collar undone, sleeves rolled up, he felt the familiar, nagging exhaustion that had been with him since the first day he took over the country. He looked like a very different man from the immaculately dressed, square-jawed commander of the Silent Coup.
Fletcher knocked and walked into the room.
General Stephens looked up immediately. ‘Jesus Christ, Fletch! What the hell do we do?’ he gestured at his screen, showing the clean-up of the wreckage of the bridge in real time. ‘We can’t win this war without plunging Australia into the Dark Ages. I’ve got every bloody lobbyist and pollie knocking down my door, demanding we immediately withdraw our forces.’
Fletcher sighed and sat down in the chair facing Stephens’ desk. ‘I hate to say it, Marty, but I don’t think there’s much more we can do.’
‘It can’t end like this though, Fletch — too many people have died, too many have sacrificed too much. We can’t just throw in the towel when the going gets tough,’ said Stephens, dropping his clenched fist on the desk.
‘Marty, I know
,’ Fletcher replied. ‘But a lot more innocent people will die if we continue with this strategy. It was always a gamble. We were always at the mercy of the Chinese, and them being true to their word.’
‘Their word,’ Stephens repeated bitterly, ‘they didn’t hesitate to break it as soon as we started to inflict real damage on their mining operations.’
‘Well, if we want to regroup, we should at least scale back the operation, pull our forces back and create a lull in the fighting. The Chinese will think that we’ve succumbed and the public will feel like we’re looking after them,’ Fletcher offered. ‘In a month or two we start up again, but this time we take it a bit easier. That way the Chinese may not retaliate in the same way.’
‘Damn it! Listen to us — we sound like politicians!’ Stephens cried. ‘Worrying about what people will think of us. We need to stay focussed on what’s best for this country, not worry about the polls. We’re in the middle of a major operation right now, an operation that could make the Chinese seriously reconsider their strategy.’
‘Right now,’ said Fletcher calmly, ‘what’s best for the country is to eliminate the threat of reprisal attacks. The public won’t stand for another attack like the bridge.’
Stephens stared at Fletcher, his face flushed, eyes tired and red. He was calm now, a powerful wave of exhaustion washing over him. ‘What a nightmare, what a fucking nightmare,’ he muttered to himself. ‘You’re right, Fletch. You’re absolutely right. What were we thinking? Guerrilla tactics only work when there is nothing for the enemy to hit back at. Christ, that’s what made it so damn impossible to deal with insurgents in Afghanistan and Namibia.’
‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ said Fletcher, standing. ‘How can you make decisions when you’re in this state?’
Pondering the suggestion, Stephens knew Fletcher was right. ‘Perhaps just a couple of hours,’ he said reluctantly.
Standing slowly, he felt like an old man, crippled by the weight of a nation in shock, the weight of the bridge, the weight of all those people who had died and their loved ones left behind. He shuffled over to the couch and lay down.
Walking out of the general’s office, Fletcher went straight to Sarah’s adjoining office, knocking once and walking straight in, as was his habit.
Sarah was at her desk, talking to someone on MiLA. She looked up at Fletcher and waved him in. ‘Okay, well look, I have to run,’ she said firmly. ‘Perhaps you should put down your thoughts in an email and send it through to me. I’ll make sure that the general understands your point of view.’
Hanging up the receiver, she let out a deep breath. ‘That was our friend over at Foreign Affairs, wondering when the general is going to make a public acknowledgment of our defeat and pull back all the armed forces.’
‘My God, what a nightmare. We really are stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren’t we?’ said Fletcher, leaning back in the leather chair opposite Sarah.
‘Fletch, can I share something with you?’ Sarah asked, looking nervous. ‘Something I’ve been working on privately that I think might be a consideration right now.’
‘Sure, what is it?’ Fletcher asked, intrigued.
‘Well, it’s a last-resort strategy I’ve been thinking about for a while now. I’m not even sure if it’s possible, but … well …’ she trailed off.
‘Shoot. Let’s hear it, Sarah,’ said Fletcher, sitting up in his chair.
‘Okay, well,’ Sarah said, putting on her no-nonsense presentation voice, ‘we can’t get the Chinese out of here using traditional force. They have the ability to easily kill civilians and destroy infrastructure, coupled with the fact that we don’t have the ability to retaliate like-for-like, let alone adequately defend ourselves.’
‘No question of that after the other day,’ remarked Fletcher.
‘So, we are somewhat powerless to get them out of our own accord. We don’t want them to be here because, well, who’s to say they’ll stop with the mines? Plus, this nation will never grow and prosper while we have a foreign power in our borders, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ nodded Fletcher. ‘Where are you going with this, Sarah?’
‘Well, the question is, would we be prepared to live in an Australia that existed without the Chinese and without the mining industry?’
‘Without question, yes. We have nothing to lose on that front — the mines are completely controlled by the Chinese and will continue to be as long as they occupy this country,’ replied Fletcher, getting more animated.
Sarah looked hard at Fletcher and paused for a brief moment, continuing slowly for effect. ‘Then would we be willing to detonate nuclear devices in our own country?’
‘Nuclear bombs …?’ said Fletcher, gobsmacked.
‘Yes, nukes,’ said Sarah firmly, leaning forward. ‘What if we detonated a series of tactical nuclear weapons, specifically at the key Chinese-held mines? Australia is one of the few countries in the world that can actually use nuclear weapons on its own soil to defend itself. We could minimise civilian casualties by evacuating the area under the guise of a complete submission to the Chinese occupation. When the conditions are right, we launch.’ She sat back with a satisfied look on her face.
‘The mines would be useless for hundreds, if not thousands of years — the Chinese would have no reason to occupy Australia,’ said Fletcher, thinking it through.
‘That’s right. We’re being held hostage by our own resource wealth. By taking out the ransom, China has no reason to stay and continue to fight what they know will be a pointless and drawn-out war.’
‘So, we would be making the ultimate sacrifice to get them out.’
‘It would be a good sacrifice,’ replied Sarah, more introspectively.
‘So, where do we get a nuke from?’ Fletcher said, almost to himself. ‘The Americans, I guess.’
‘That’s right. They’ve been sitting on those nukes for decades, just waiting for a good reason to use one,’ said Sarah quickly, then pausing. ‘I’m sure they will have some caveats, some requirements from us, but we shouldn’t underestimate their willingness to cling on to what slender primacy they think they still have in Asia.’
‘Oh, I don’t doubt it,’ said Fletcher, impressed at how much thought Sarah had obviously put into this. He suspected she’d fall at the next hurdle, though. ‘How do we sell this to the Australian people, then?’
Sarah was ready with her answer. ‘We don’t.’
‘Sarah,’ said Fletcher, almost laughing now, ‘we have to get approval from a number of people. It’s likely to go to cabinet for a vote. We need to consider how it gets sold to the politicians.’
Sarah, sensing she was losing him, replied with urgency. ‘Fletch, we can’t afford the time or the possibility of it getting back to the Chinese. If they catch wind of an operation like this, they will no doubt threaten us with another strike on one of our cities. Probably much bigger than the last attack. Do you think the politicians will have the stomach for that? Not a chance.’
‘Perhaps not, but doing something like this on our own is insane.’
‘I don’t think we have a choice, Fletch. There’s too much at stake.’
‘Are you sure it’s even possible to execute this without endangering civilians?’
‘I’ve spoken to a few people, and it is feasible,’ Sarah said eagerly.
‘People?’ Fletcher said, suddenly suspicious. ‘Who have you told about this, Sarah?’
‘I asked Connor to look into it. I thought he’d be perfect — an ex-defence minister, he’s got a lot of good contacts as you know. And he’s not officially part of this administration, so it can’t be linked back to General Stephens if it got out.’
‘I’m pretty new to this politics game, but one thing I do know is that you can never be too careful,’ Fletcher said sternly. ‘You’re positive nobody else knows?’
Sarah blinked, suddenly doubting herself. ‘No, nobody else knows.’
‘Good. Look, I’m not saying it’s a ba
d idea,’ Fletcher said, standing, ‘but it is a politically dangerous one. Let’s talk to Marty when he’s up, see what his reaction is.’
Later that afternoon, in General Stephens’ office, Sarah had just taken the general through the idea. The room was silent. Stephens’ face was expressionless, his gaze rooted on the empty chair opposite him. Sarah and Fletcher, sitting on either side of the empty chair, watched him, waiting in anticipation for his response.
‘Interesting,’ said General Stephens finally, his gaze still on the chair, his face stoically resisting expression.
Sarah leaned forward and perched herself on the edge of her chair. ‘General, I have to tell you. I’ve spoken to Connor about it. He understands that it is highly sensitive and is using the utmost discretion. But he is putting together a viability paper on it, which we will have by the end of next week. We’ve codenamed it Operation Fulcrum.’
‘Good work, Sarah. I want to understand the scenario completely. Get me the report as soon as you can,’ replied the general. Looking directly at Sarah, he continued, ‘It’s an interesting option you’ve raised Sarah, radical. But interesting.’
‘Marty,’ interjected Fletcher, ‘we need to understand the legalities of this sort of action. You know cabinet will never allow us to nuke our own country. If we are going to do this, we’ll be making the call and we’ll be solely responsible.’
‘I understand what you’re saying, Fletch. I will be solely responsible. No one else. It would be unfair to ask the government. It cannot be held responsible for a decision like this. It needs to remain beyond reproach so it can run the country, once this is all over.’
‘General, we will stand by you no matter what decision you make,’ said Sarah, raising her head confidently.
General Stephens looked at her and gave her a grateful smile, hope lighting his face for the first time in months. ‘I know you will, Sarah, I know you will. But let’s see that paper from Connor first.’
