Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) (32 page)

“And then
their
land and resources become
our
land and resources.”

The
Interior Minister reviewed the report again in silence for a few minutes.  Po
Sin merely smoked contentedly.  The Minister finally looked up.  “Have we any
casualty estimates?”

“The
General waved a hand in dismissal.  “500,000 to a million.  Mere drops in the
bucket, Minister.”

Shin Ho
nodded.  With America neutralized, a world dominated by a reborn Imperial China
was actually feasible.  The Chinese destiny was on the cusp of being reality. 
Centuries of Chinese prophecy and politics were about to be culminated in the
ultimate empire.  A single government to rule the world would be only years
away, not centuries or decades.  Shin Ho fairly salivated at the thought.  The
men who pulled this off would be treated as gods…

The
Interior Minister laid the report on his desk.  “General.  How soon can we
begin planning?”

Po Sin
could hardly contain himself.  “We have prepared for this moment since World
War Two.  The Army and Navy are on joint exercise trying to scare Taiwan at the
moment.  Forty-eight hours, and I can have them on the way to Mexico.  This
time next week, we can be inside American borders.”

“Do it.”

Po Sin
nearly choked on his own cigarette.  “What of the Politburo?”

“Leave
those doddering old fools to me.  I know who
really
runs this country,”
Shin Ho smiled.  “Now, how about a toast to the conquering of America and the
rise of the Dragon?”

MR. PRESIDENT, WE’VE
just been informed that the Israeli Air Defense Force has scrambled.  They have
let us know that nuclear munitions are air borne,” reported the CIA Director. 
His face looked a hundred years old.  He hadn’t slept in more than 36 hours.

The
President looked around his War Room.  All the faces looked a bit haggard this
morning. 
It’s been a week since the power went out...it only took six days
to bring us to the edge of utter collapse.  To the edge of nuclear war…too damn
fast!

“Sir,
Israel’s ground forces are outnumbered roughly…” the Secretary of Defense
scanned a paper, adjusting his glasses.  He whistled softly.  “Mr. President,
they’re facing at least four-to-one odds.”

The NSA
Chief joined the conversation.  “We’re tracking armies from Saudi Arabia and
Jordan on the southeast, Egypt on the west, Syria on the north.  I don’t see
how they could have had so many forces in-theater if they hadn’t planned this.”

“Sir, under
these conditions…low-yield tactical nuclear strikes are their only hope.  The
numbers are just too big…” said the Army Chief of Staff.

“This makes
’73 look like a skirmish!” hissed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.  He too was
looking at the report.  He shook his gray head sadly.  “Sir, it doesn’t look
good, even if they nuke—“

The
President spoke, silencing everyone.  “Al, get the word out, find all the
foreign press you can—if anyone attacks Israel without establishing just cause,
without hard evidence, we’ll back them up.”

“Sir…” said
the SecDef. 

“To the
hilt,” intoned the President.

There was
dead silence in the war room for a few tense heartbeats.  Everyone linked into
to the video conference call knew what that meant.  The Secretary of Defense
set is jaw and continued. 

“I
understand your orders, sir.  However, I must inform you that there’s only two
carrier battlegroups anywhere close to the region.  Our other forces are in the
first stages of pulling out already.  If we change our minds
now
, it’ll
take another three or four days to get most of the equipment turned around.  By
the end of this coming week, we’ll have roughly a quarter of our people in
transit to America.”

“With all
due respect, Mr. Secretary,” Admiral Bortsen nodded on screen to his civilian
boss.  He turned towards his Commander in Chief.  “Mr. President, with those
two carrier battlegroups we could wipe the whole damn region clean.”

“I
appreciate your enthusiasm, Admiral,” SecDef replied, “But we’re talking about
combined opposition forces of close a million.  And that’s not even including
every fool willing to detonate himself in the name of Allah.”  The National
Security Advisor nodded her head in agreement.

“Like I
said, nukes are the only way Israel can go, if they want to survive,” the Army
Chief’s image reiterated.

The
President held up his hands.  “Regardless, gentlemen, I want it out on all the
wires that we’re going to back up Israel all the way.  I’ll not have these
backstabbing sonsabitches turn on the only nation in the Middle East that gave
two shits about the war on terror.  We’ve been through too much with that
little nation.   They were treated too poorly by my predecessors.  Too many
American boys and girls have died trying to root out these terrorist assholes
and now the governments we’ve all known harbored them are turning on Israel openly. 
No sir, I don’t hold by that.   Tim.” 

“Yes, Mr.
President,” called out the Secretary of State.

The leader
of the Free World leaned in towards the camera on the conference table.  “I
want you to spearhead this from State.  Pull all the back-channel favors you
got.  I want everyone out there to know we mean business.  No pussy-foot
half-answers.  There is no mistaking this.”

The
Secretary of State paused, visibly upset by his orders.  “Yes, Mr. President.” 
The discussion was over.  “My team is working on it right now, sir.”

“Now,” the
President said, shuffling the pile of papers in front of him.  “Someone give me
an update on where we stand this morning?”

“Of course,
Mr. President,” said Suthby.  “I’m afraid I have some more bad news…”

The
President sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. 
It’s not even eight
o’clock yet, and I’m on cup number three…that’s not a good omen.

“We’ve
received reports that the wildfires in California are spreading faster than
first anticipated.  There is some evidence that they were purposely set.”

“You’re
talking arson?”

“No, sir,
terrorism.  The governor says his investigators are uncovering eye-witness
accounts of middle-eastern men tossing flares and other ‘objects’ out the
windows of cars traveling on back roads and forest paths.  There’s growing
concern that copycat arsonists are starting fires in otherwise untouched areas
of the state.”

“Fools…”
said the CIA director.

“
Terrorists
,”
corrected the President.  “Hank, I want the copycats hunted down for the
terrorists that they are.  We can’t have
more
of this shit going on.” 
He shook his head. 
What next?

“Also…ah…the
fires in southern California have merged to some degree outside Los Angeles. 
The outer limits of the city, suburbs and such, are on fire and it’s spreading.”

The FBI
director sat up on his display screen.  “Sir, the violence and criminal
activity in L.A. over the last few days is going to skyrocket once people
realize that the city is going to be consumed in a firestorm.  It’s going to
get
Biblical
…”

“We’re
already getting preliminary reports that up to 50,000 have died on the streets
in L.A. since the gang wars started.  People still trying to evacuate are
getting caught in the crossfire.  The racial riots have just gone all out of
control.  We’re expecting a total loss of the city.”

“Wait,
you’re telling me that not only did we lose Atlanta, but we’re going to lose
Los Angles?”

“I’m afraid
so, Mr. President…at this point we could throw all the manpower we wanted at it—there’s
just nothing we can do.  It’s bordering on total chaos.  Completely out of
control,” replied the SecDHS meekly.              “Chicago may be lost soon,
sir…” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.  “General Collrade outside Chicago
radioed that he’s lost about a quarter of his men.  There was an escalation in
the rioting—“

“Rioting
hell, sir, they launched a coordinated
attack
on my boys—“ broke in the
Army Chief.

“Evidently,”
the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said testily, cutting off his subordinate,
“The rioters negotiated with General Collrade to release some of the hostages
they held in downtown office buildings.  Those hostages were roughed up quite a
bit, from what he told us.  There were bombs placed on the hostages and when
they crossed into our lines, the bombs went off, pretty much wiping out that
sector’s command center.  The rioters then broke out of the Occupied Zone and
took control of Navy Pier.” 

The
Chairman pointed with a laser pointer on a map of Chicago an aide brought up on
one of the larger displays in the room.  Everyone at the table turned to look,
grimacing at the amount of land marked in red as Occupied—all of downtown
Chicago and a strip of land running along the shore to the massive Navy Pier.

      “These
rioters have broken out and started taking land?  What the hell is going on, a
rebellion or a riot?  I thought I authorized whatever force necessary?”

“You did,
yes, sir…but…ah, General Collrade’s forces just don’t have the firepower to
take back the city.  This is a home guard unit.  They’re able to handle natural
disasters and such, but with the war effort overseas, most of their heavy
equipment has been…ah…loaned out, so-to-speak..  The rioters have begun taking
out bridges and building fortifications, raising drawbridges and such.  That’s
not to mention the fact that we’ve estimated there’s a good three thousand of
them or so, sir.”

“How long?”

“Sir,” said
the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, “We’ve got reinforcements from Fort Knox on
the way.  They mobilized two days ago and are on the road to Chicago.  They’ve
got a spearhead clearing the highways ahead of them of all the abandoned
vehicles.  ETA this afternoon.”

“What kind
of reinforcements?”

“The 4
^th
Brigade of the 5
^th
Infantry Division—that’s the newest Division
modeled after the Digital Division…the 4
^th
, sir.  Brigadier General
Joe Stapleton.  He’s got a mechanized infantry battalion, tank battalion,
engineers, recon and air support.  Close on four thousand troops, sir.  It’s
the best we can do at the moment.  All the other bases in the region are
stretched thin providing support to other riots.”

“Then why
do you have an entire Division coming out of, Fort Knox did you say?”

“Yes, Mr.
President, Fort Knox.  They were supposed to be shipped over to help out in
Syria, sir—they have the generation two digital component, it’s a step up from
the 4
^th
, sir.  When everything hit the fan, the orders to head
overseas were put on hold.  Good thing too, they were only a day away from
transport.”

“Don’t
worry, Mr. President, when they get to Chicago, there’s going to be hell to
pay.  They’re going to tear through those rioters like Sherman through
Atlanta.  Joe Stapleton is considered something of a Patton reborn, Mr.
President.”

“I like him
already.  I want a live feed from him when they reach Chicago.”

The
Secretary of State received a report off-screen, then turned back and looked
shaken.  “Mr. President!”

“Tim, if
you’re going to tell me what some ambassador has replied—“

“That’s
exactly the problem, sir.  I have just received a communication from Allan.  My
speech really pissed ‘em off.  He thinks they’re going to go ahead with this
monstrous thing and vote…today now, in retaliation!  It’s outrageous!”

The
President ignored him and scanned a copy of the communication as it appeared on
his desktop screen.  It contained the bare minimum of facts, just outlining the
situation so that Washington could make better decisions.  It arrived moments
too late.

“People,
the United Nations is going to vote today on a resolution to deploy United
Nations Peacekeepers on American soil.   You’ve all seen the fiasco on TV from
yesterday evening.  It’s looking real now.”

“Jesus H.
Christ!” roared the Army Chief of Staff.  “Sir, this is preposterous!”  The
room full of screens erupted into digital chaos.

“I agree,
Mr. President, this is totally unacceptable—“

“Totally
asinine
—

“Outrageous!”

“This is an
invasion!”

“—the gall
to do this—“

“Enough!”
the President roared.  Everyone went silent.  “Now I’m just as mad about this
as you are—and I can tell you one thing, we sure as hell aren’t going to stand
for
this
bullshit!” he said, pointing at the screen that held the
warning.

“They know
that, sir, but with my statement about backing up Israel coming out just after
this
…”
the SecState said, flustered.  “It just fueled the fires to send Peacekeepers. 
They’re going to think we’re looking for a fight—like we’re going off half
cocked.  That’s just going to show that we really
are
unstable.   I
think the crazy bastards are going to do it.”  SecState took off his glasses
with a weary sigh.

The
President thought in silence for a moment, weighing all the angles.  The Joint
Chiefs just glared at each other.  Each Branch Chief swore he’d personally make
the foreigners pay for invading America, if they did.  The Marine Commandant
merely smiled.

Finally,
the President spoke.  “Tim, recall Ambassador Allan.  To hell with the U.N. 
We’re cutting our ties, once and for all.  I want all donations and money
stopped now.  I want all our boys pulled out of U.N. Peacekeeping missions. 
Get this to Congress.  If they don’t act, I’m going to issue an executive
order“.

“Right
away, sir.”

“I also
want every ambassador to each of the countries siding against us to put the
pressure on those governments.  If that doesn’t work, we’re going to call
them
home too.  We’re
not
going to let them get away with this shit—not now. 
Not
now
, dammit!” the President finished by slamming his hands down on
the table in frustration. 

“What are
you smiling at, Pete?” asked the beleaguered President.

The
country’s top Marine continued to grin from the other end of the table as the
others around him stared in disbelief.  He looked like he was enjoying a
private joke.

“You know
what they say, sir, ‘Marines pray for a good fight.’  I’d say our prayers have
just been answered.”