by James Rosone
“I have a feeling this whole situation is about to turn real ugly, sir. What’ll we do if the President orders a SEAL team or the Marines to try and recapture the ship?” asked Pearl. “We don’t have a big contingent of people on board that can defend it.”
“Once we cross into Canada, I’ve been told the Canadians, Germans and French have some soldiers and sailors that will come aboard. They’ll help augment our missing sailors and Marines for security,” Admiral Ward responded.
*******
Joint Base Lewis-McChord
I “Eye” Corps HQ
Lieutenant General Andrew Biggs was on a secured video teleconference with the Pentagon when an aide walked into the room and brought him a note. He quickly read it and then looked up at the messenger, asking, “Has this been verified?”
The man nodded and then slipped out of the room, leaving those in attendance wondering what had just transpired.
With all eyes turned toward him, Biggs cleared his throat. “Um, I just received a flash message from one of the Coast Guard ships and confirmed by one of the destroyer escorts who was racing to catch up to the carrier. They were escorting the Nimitz out to sea to get them out of danger.” He paused awkwardly for a moment. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out. Instead of continuing out of Puget Sound and into the Pacific, the Nimitz turned and crossed into Canadian waters. They’re currently taking up station outside the Canadian naval base CFB Esquimalt. It would appear the carrier has turned on their defensive weapon systems.”
A collective gasp filled the room. Then a voice came across the video call. “Everyone except Biggs and his key staff—vacate the room immediately.”
There was a scuffle as everyone grabbed their belongings and exited the room without a word. Then a silence fell over the room. The President was front and center on the videoconference, visibly simmering. His nostrils were flared and his face was flushed—Biggs wondered if he was about to punch something.
Sachs took a couple of deep breaths, as if to steel his nerves. “General, do you still have control of your base and the men and women of your command?” he finally asked.
General Biggs sat up even straighter. “I sure as hell do, Mr. President. I’ve ordered the base to be placed on lockdown, and I have multiple Stryker battalions en route to the various naval bases in the area as well as the Air Force bases. I have helicopters armed and circling our facilities, ready to attack anyone that attempts to carry out a similar type of attack. My command stands ready to execute any combat orders you wish to issue.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, the President nodded. “I didn’t mean to insult you, General, but I needed to know if another shoe was going to drop. Thank you for getting your units spun up and ready to deal with whatever may be coming next. Right now, I need you to start identifying potential threats to your facility and the state of Washington from this UN force.” He paused briefly. “I also need to know what forces you need shifted over to help you defend the state, should it come to that.”
“I’ll have my staff send over a request for any additional support we’ll need to the SecDef,” Biggs replied. “Presently, Mr. President, my primary concern is figuring out who launched the attacks on Bremerton. It could have been Special Forces units from one of the UN member state militaries across the border, or it could have been a rogue National Guard unit.
“My other worry is that according to most recent reports, roughly twenty-two percent of our soldiers haven’t responded to the recall. I have no idea where they are, but they’re currently listed as AWOL. I fear they could be in the process of crossing over to the other side.”
Several groans filled the room.
The President shook his head, then turned to face his SecDef, McElroy. “You need to check with our other ship commanders and our Air Force base commanders and make sure we don’t have any other major capital assets deciding they want to fly off to Canada,” he ordered. “I also need an assessment of what you all think they’re going to do with that carrier. Are they really intent on using it against our forces, or are they just trying to neutralize it from being used against them?”
“Uh, yes, sir. I will personally call all of the carrier strike group commanders and the carrier commanders immediately,” McElroy stammered. He seemed to have been caught off guard. He cleared his throat, then continued more strongly. “I’m also going to get with the Marines and make sure they’re solidly with us, and then make sure they’re keeping an eye on their Navy counterparts.”
The Attorney General, Malcolm Wright, added, “We need to issue arrest warrants for these sailors and make it known that they have betrayed their oath of office. They’ve committed an open act of treason against their country and will be held accountable.”
The President nodded in agreement. “Make it happen,” Sachs ordered. “And make sure it’s widely publicized too. We need this to be a deterrent. Oh, and make sure to terminate the paychecks of those officers and enlisted personnel. I’m not about to keep paying them. If their families don’t have money, then they should have thought about that before they committed treason.”
*******
Mount Vernon, Washington
I-5 near Fish Creek
“Hurry up! We don’t have much time to get those charges ready. That convoy is less than ten minutes away,” yelled Lieutenant Willie Yank.
The two soldiers underneath the bridge did what they could to speed up their process. They were nearly done attaching their blocks of C-4 to the undercarriage of the I-5 bridge that crossed Fish Creek. Their experience as an engineering unit in the Washington State National Guard was finally being put to good use, along with all the weapons and explosives they’d snatched before jumping out of their guard unit to join the Washington CDF.
Lieutenant Yank looked around nervously. The snow was starting to let up, which meant that the convoy of soldiers heading toward them would be able to spot them from much farther away.
“It’s done. Let’s get out of here,” one of the soldiers announced. He slid on his butt and feet down the side of the bridge embankment to the frozen creek below.
“Back to the trucks. We’ve got two more bridges to drop before the Army catches on to what we’re doing,” Lieutenant Yank ordered. His motley crew of four guys raced down the frozen river to their pickup truck roughly half a mile away. Despite the fact that they slipped and slid through the snow and ice, they managed to make it back before the convoy got to them.
When they got to their vehicle, Yank climbed into the bed of the truck and stood up for a better view. One of his other soldiers held a radio-controlled detonator in his right hand and a pair of binoculars in the other hand. “Here they come,” the soldier announced. “I’m going to let a couple of vehicles cross before I blow it—that way we’ll nail a couple of them.”
Lieutenant Yank took a couple of deep breaths, realizing his comrade was counting the Strykers as they crossed over. Even without his binoculars, Yank could tell that there was also a fair bit of the normal civilian traffic on the bridge. He felt a twinge of sadness as he realized that some innocent bystanders would inevitably be killed in the blast.
“Hurry up and do it, we need to get out of here,” he barked anxiously, not wanting to be there any longer than he had to. He didn’t like the idea of killing non-soldiers, but he reasoned that this was war, and in war, people died—even civilians.
The man holding the detonator depressed the red button, and in a fraction of a second, a short-burst message was sent to the receiver attached to the blasting caps.
BOOM.
One loud, enormous explosion went off, throwing a Toyota Camry some twenty feet into the air along with chunks of the bridge. One of the Strykers fishtailed from the shockwave of the explosion before rolling over on its side. Another Stryker couldn’t stop in time and flew right off the missing portion of the bridge, only to crash down onto the frozen creek below.
The remaining vehicles on the bridge
slammed on their brakes, tires screeching loud enough to echo all the way to their vantage point. However, at the speeds they were traveling and with the roads still a bit snowy and wet, these evasive maneuvers weren’t enough to stop another twelve civilian cars and semitrucks from sliding off the bridge. Two more military vehicles also crashed into the icy waters below.
“Good job, guys! Now, let’s go drop the next bridge,” Lieutenant Yank announced. He jumped down from the bed of the truck and walked over to the passenger-side door.
*******
JB Lewis-McChord
I Corps HQ
“Here are the latest casualty reports, sir,” a captain announced as he handed Major General Scott Stevens a document. “Fourteen soldiers were killed in the crash, another eighteen injured. Eighteen civilians were also killed in the subsequent pileup, along with another thirty-two injured.”
“Send a message over to the battalion commander,” General Stevens ordered. “Tell him to get the rest of his troopers back on the road to Whidbey Island. We need to make sure that facility is fully secured. Also, send a flash message over to the base commander at Whidbey—tell him someone dropped the I-5 bridge at Fish Creek and hit our convoy. He needs to send out whatever forces necessary to secure the bridge crossings at Deception Pass Bridge, or his base will be cut off. Understood?”
“Copy that, sir. I’ll make sure they know what’s happening,” the young man replied. Then he rushed off to get in touch with the naval station.
General Stevens felt a burning pain in his chest, accompanied by a twinge of nausea.
Damn reflux is acting up again, he thought. Stress always seemed to make it worse. If he didn’t take care of it now, the pain would just keep getting worse until it felt like he was having a heart attack. He opened up the top drawer and rummaged around until he found the roll of Tums he was searching for. He popped three and hoped for the best.
Someone knocked on the door to his office. He looked up to see commanders of the 16th Combat Aviation Brigade and the 201st Expeditionary Military Intelligence Brigade. He’d been waiting for their arrival. Stevens smiled. “It’s good to see you, Bob, Justin—come on in,” he said, motioning for them to come sit down.
“Sorry it took us a while to get over here, sir. We’ve had some maintenance issues that needed my attention. Plus, I appear to have a pair of Apaches and a Chinook that have gone missing,” Colonel Bob Barr said angrily as he took a seat.
An aide walked in with a fresh pot of coffee and a couple of extra mugs. He placed them on the table and retreated, closing the door behind him.
“Before we go any further with what I need to put out to you guys, tell me about the three missing helicopters. What’s going on?” asked General Stevens. He decided against drinking any coffee at the moment but made a motion to offer some to his guests.
Colonel Barr sighed. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, General—I think they took their helicopters and went AWOL. These weren’t even the same crews that normally flew together. When the alert went out, they were already at the flight line, like they knew in advance that it was going to happen. They jumped into their helicopters and were armed and airborne in record time. At first, we thought it was because they were the duty crew that was on alert, but they weren’t. They claimed to have been in the area when the alert went out when they reported in, and with all the stuff going on, no one thought anything unusual about it. They jumped in their helicopters and just took off.
“In the beginning, the two Apaches and a Chinook full of soldiers looked like they were heading over to Naval Air Station Whidbey Island to provide them with support. However, they flew right over the base and just kept going north. They flew up to the Canadian naval base and set down there.”
“This isn’t right, sir. I think this must be an inside job. Someone helped to coordinate this entire thing,” Colonel Justin Bryant added angrily. “They engineered an attack at Bremerton that would flush the ships out to sea, so they could just cross right over into Canadian waters without anyone being the wiser. Then these pilots and soldiers just happen to be in the area when the alert goes out, so they’re the first ones in the air and then they cross over? Throw in this group of saboteurs dropping part of the I-5 bridge over Fish Creek, preventing our QRF from getting over to augment the naval air station or Customs and Border Protection station at the border, and it just doesn’t add up, sir.”
Great, I have a coup in my own ranks, thought General Stevens indignantly.
“Colonel Bryant, I need a frank assessment. You’re my intelligence arm, my eyes and ears for what’s happening around us. Is the base under threat?” Stevens asked. “And if so, what kind of force are we being attacked by? Is this some sort of militia group? Rogue elements of our own force? Or are these foreign troops from that UN force across the border?”
Bryant paused momentarily, seeming to search for what to say. “I’m not sure. I’ve tasked my intelligence guys with talking with the local police and anyone they can think of off base and in the surrounding area. They’re trying to kick the bushes and turn over some rocks to see what they can find. Some of the local police and sheriff groups are more helpful than others. Until we get lucky and either capture some of these guys in the act or catch a break in the case, I’m not going to have a lot of those answers.”
General Stevens turned to his aviation commander. “Barr, I need you to get your surveillance drones up. Have them patrolling the major highways. Pay special attention to the bridges,” he ordered. “Also, start getting some surveillance up along the border. I want to know what’s going on up there. We need to stay frosty and be ready for whatever may be coming our way.”
He tapped his pencil on his desk while he contemplated next steps, then suddenly blurted out, “Let’s start to issue weapons and live ammo to everyone. I want the base fully armed and ready in case there’s another attack. I’m not going to lose soldiers because they weren’t prepared.”
*******
Washington, D.C.
J. Edgar Hoover Building
FBI Headquarters
Director Nolan Polanski sat in the briefing room outside his office, looking over a collection of data points, social media posts, and various cyber-intrusions, trying to understand what it all meant.
Assistant Deputy Director Ashley Bonhauf pointed to one of the documents. “Mr. Director, as you can see from this post, whoever is behind this is doing exactly what we saw happen during the October 24th attacks. They’re taking one or two situations and recasting them as something different than what they really are, then they’re using social media to propagate it through various newsfeeds and groups that people follow. They’re essentially taking an otherwise unknown situation, something no one would have cared about, and weaponizing it for different groups of people to rile them up into taking an action they otherwise wouldn’t take.”
Polanski furrowed his brow. “So, you’re saying that whoever is behind these social media campaigns is manufacturing fake outrage in order to gin up real outrage?” he asked incredulously.
Ashley nodded her head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone, or some group, is using social media to stir up passions in people to get them to bring about an outcome they want. Let me show you something else,” she said as she pulled a couple of other papers out with some different posts on them. “This one here,” she said, holding it out for him to look at, “is targeted at a conservative audience. It says that Senator Tate is working with the UN to take over our government, that they’re going to come and take our guns. This post is being boosted and propagated via bots, specifically targeting individuals who are members of the NRA or have expressed views that indicate they’re a part of a group that supports the Second Amendment.”
Polanski held a hand up to slow her down. “Whoa, how exactly are they doing that? And how are they able to identify information on that granular of a level on individual people?”
“Through Facebook, Google, Amazon and other maj
or websites. All these groups have been collecting data on every single person in the US—and really, the world—for years. All that data is then used to build a social profile of each individual person. Through behavioral analytics, marketers can engineer ads that are specifically tailored to exactly what you’ll respond to. They’re targeting both liberal and conservative groups with these posts—I have to surmise that the goal of all this is simply an attempt to divide the country and turn us on each other in a violent fashion.”
Polanski grunted at the synopsis. “I’d say they’ve succeeded in doing exactly that.” He let out a sigh, then turned to look at his deputy. “Joe, what’s your take on all of this?”
“I was skeptical at first, but to be honest, after seeing all this put together and looking at past posts and messages being boosted by some of these groups, I think Ashley is on to something. I had some people look at where a lot of these posts are coming from—you know, backtracing the IP addresses and messages. Oddly, a lot of them are being pushed by either shell corporations or people who appear to be Americans, but in reality are foreigners.”
“What?” Polanski asked skeptically.
“They come from a variety of places,” Joe answered. “So far, we’ve managed to track the IPs to Russia, Germany, Norway, France, Macedonia, Greece, Cypress, and of course, China. The NSA and the CIA are trying to narrow it down to specific people but have yet to firmly land on anything. It’s only a matter of time, though. From what I was told by our Agency rep, they have dozens of their Special Operations Group teams carrying out raids and snatch-and-grabs all over the globe right now, trying to find out what the heck is going on.”
Polanski shook his head in frustration. “Look, this whole thing is a mess. What I need you guys to do is figure out how to best explain this in layman’s terms, with some charts or pictures or whatever you need, so it can be easily digested by the average person. We need to get this over to the AG and the White House ASAP. We have to get this information distributed throughout the government and the military, and eventually out to the public—so we can nip this in the bud before the entire country fractures. I fear we may already be too late, but we as the FBI owe it to the President and the American people to present what we know.”
