Sweetness in the Dark (24 page)

A handful of MiGs got airborne, only to meet a superior adversary in the American fighters. Ed knew from his pilot days that there was no way the Chinese planes would survive. Americans had been fighting over other people’s countries for decades. They were not about to let any invader live through the day.

By nightfall, the Navy reported all known air assets eliminated. The Chinese might have some planes hidden somewhere and they would be handled if they rose up to challenge the Navy. Tomorrow would begin the ground campaign.

“General, you wanted to see me?” Sergeant Wilder asked.

“Yes, Sergeant. I want your scouts moving out at first light to watch our left flank. The road over by Dash Point is lightly guarded and I want your unit to scout towards Tacoma for hostiles. If you run into anything, call in and we’ll crank up the Navy,” Ed said.

“Yes, Sir. I’m feeling like Jeb Stuart to Bobby Lee right now.”

“That you are, Sergeant. We can’t have overwhelming forces everywhere, so we need to watch for a Chinese flank attack. And if you’re comparing me to Robert E. Lee, I’m flattered. I guess we are both rebels of Washington, D.C. Much different cause though, Sergeant.”

“Yes, Sir, but still doing God’s work,” Sergeant Wilder said.

* * *

“Well Colonel, there goes your Air Force. I thought you said the Americans wouldn’t have any airpower,” Chairman Z said. He was in the headquarters of the Southern Chinese Defensive Zone. Colonel Lin stood beside him and it looked as if Lin’s blood was about to boil.

“Listen, I don’t need your smart observations right now. San Francisco assured us that the American Air Force was in total disarray. I don’t understand.”

“You might have attended high school here in the States and learned to speak English, but you didn’t learn anything about Americans. First of all, those are Navy jets bombing the crap out of your wonderful MiGs. Your guys stand no chance against the Navy.” Chairman Z was enjoying this. He knew he was about to die no matter what and the thought was liberating. “Second, that means there’s a battle group offshore somewhere. So you can forget any supplies coming through. If we don’t die fighting, we will slowly starve to death.”

Suddenly two F-18s screamed over the tree tops. Both men reacted quickly and dropped to the floor of their hardened bunker. The earth rocked and threw them into the air. They staggered to their feet in time to see the fire ball from four napalm bombs consuming their front-line troops. The heat blasted back toward headquarters.

“And third, Colonel, you’re about to get a serious American ass whipping,” Chairman Z said.

“Bastards. At least all they have are farm boys from Montana to fight with. Our infantry will hold those rag-tag troops out. And we still have no reports of tanks on the American side.”

“Yeah, keep living in a dream world colonel. Just like the Japs did in World War II. If you think the Americans were pissed after Pearl Harbor, what do you think they’re feeling with you guys standing on U.S. soil? I’m sure you will hold up about as well as Saddam’s boys did in Iraq,” Chairman Z said.

“You speak too much. Maybe I need to teach you some manners?”

“Be my guest. What do you think my fellow country men are going to do when they catch up with me? After what I’ve done, anything you can think of will be nothing.” Chairman Z knew there would be no mercy shown to him or his followers.

“Don’t push me,” the colonel said. “What I don’t understand is where the Americans are getting their strength from. The Red Army read the U.S. Congressional Report on EMP. They prepared ships and waited for this eventuality. The report stated that three hundred million Americans should be dead or dying by now. That would have made the country totally ripe for our invasion.”

“Yeah, thirty million surviving Americans sure couldn’t stop you. A ninety percent death rate in China would still leave one hundred and twenty million people. You could send thirty million over here, and not much would have stopped you,” Chairman Z said.

“But the Party had planned. They had hardened much of the grid. And rural China wouldn’t even notice ‘the Pulse’. They have little electricity now. The Party estimated that four hundred million Chinese would survive an EMP. Enough to spread Chinese settlers around the world. I don’t understand where they miscalculated.”

“I’ll venture that some parts of America acted on their own to prepare,” Chairman Z said.

F-18s again screamed overhead and both men dropped to their knees. They were already getting used to the battle. But this time the fireball was behind them as a grove of tall Douglas fir trees turned into a raging inferno. Both men turned and looked out the rear view port to see two hundred foot trees crackling in flame.

“That’s where our reserve armor was parked. How did they know it was there?” the colonel asked.

“Remember, pillaging the locals doesn’t make for good allies. I’m sure someone sneaked over to the other side and tipped them off.”

The colonel showed his anger at the cowardice of his adversary. “Why don’t they attack? My troops are ready.” The two men barely moved in reaction to the next set of F-18s screaming in from the west.

Chairman Z realized that the jets were lined up on the headquarters. He reacted like a rat in a box. He ran out the door heading north toward Seattle as fast as his feet could take him. He barely had cleared the area when it exploded in flame.

The concussion threw his body forward, landing him in some brush. He scrambled quickly under a large fallen Douglas fir tree for cover as the flames raced toward him. Chairman Z dug into the ground as close as he could and was hit by the hot air being pushed ahead of the bomb blast.

He sucked and held his breath as the air burst into flame all around him. He held on tightly as fire consumed nearby. He felt his clothes disintegrating and the flames licking at his body.

Then it was over. Oxygen returned and Chairman Z gasped for breath. All around him fires smoldered as the napalm lingered. He crawled out from under his log and stepped toward an open spot of pavement. Safe from the residual flames, Chairman Z surveyed what was left.

The headquarters were a smoldering wreck. Burnt bodies lay all over the ground. He couldn’t tell which was Colonel Lin, but one of the corpses was certainly his. Then the pain hit him. He looked down and saw what was left of his clothes.

Luckily he had worn cotton clothes this morning, as they withstood flash flames better than polyester. What was left of his shirt and pants hung in rags and parts of his legs were red with blisters. He checked the rest of his body. Amazingly, no other part of his body had any severe burns.

He turned and started walking toward Seattle and help. At least he had sufficient wounds to get him off the frontline. He would live another day. His brigade wouldn’t be so lucky.

Chairman Z soon ran into the armored unit that had been bombed. From the burning vehicles and the exploding ordnance, he doubted that anyone had survived. He gave this danger zone a wide berth.

Further north he came to Interstate 5, the main freeway toward Seattle. It still shocked him to see it deserted. He decided to walk north along the highway, keeping close to the edge in case he needed cover quickly.

Chairman Z turned as he heard a truck approaching. It was a U.S. Army truck that had been commandeered from Ft. Lewis when that base had been captured. The Chinese driver slowed and then stopped, offering Chairman Z a ride. Lacking English, the driver couldn’t explain why he was on such a perilous journey.

Chairman Z made a motion to thank the driver, but that he preferred to walk. The truck moved off heading toward Seattle. Chairman Z thought again that maybe walking wasn’t such a great idea. His blistered legs were throbbing and it was another fifteen miles to the Chinese-run hospital.

More jets flew over and more explosions shook the ground as Chairman Z’s journey took him closer to help. But none of the attacks were close to his position and he kept a steady pace moving north.

As he came over a rise near the Sea-Tac Airport exit, he could see debris littering the highway. Small fires still burned when he reached the mess. He picked his way carefully through the various obstacles in the road. He recognized the truck that had stopped for him. At least he recognized some of the parts. Chairman Z pressed on.

Finally reaching the Chinese hospital near Boeing Field, he collapsed at the entry. Orderlies were rushing about as wounded Chinese troops were brought in for treatment. One of the orderlies walked up to Chairman Z and stopped. He stared at Chairman Z and then turned and walked off.

Treating Americans wasn’t a priority
, Chairman Z thought.
Suits me fine. At least I’m out of that death trap back near Tacoma
.

As he lay there, the pain increased. The adrenaline of the attack and the hike to safety wore off. He sat against the wall as more staff walked by ignoring him. Finally a European woman stopped and knelt down. She lifted the burnt clothes and examined him.

“You have some second-degree burns on your legs. The rest of you looks OK. I’ll go get some ointment and bandages. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

“Who are you? What are you doing here with the Chinese?” Chairman Z asked.

“I’m a nurse that got trapped in Seattle when the Chinese came. We were all excited at the time that finally food and security had come. Boy, did our opinion change fast.”

“Thank you for helping me. Will you get in trouble? It seems that Americans aren’t welcome here,” Chairman Z asked.

“Don’t worry,” the nurse said.

The nurse was soon back and treated his injuries. She gave him a shot to help ease the pain.

“The pain medicine is reserved for Chinese personnel only, so don’t ask anyone else for more. I’ll try to get back to you for a second shot later. Hang in here the best you can. And the accommodations you have are the best you’ll get, so make yourself as comfortable as you can,” the nurse said.

He laid back and let the pain medicine do its job. Chairman Z drifted off, dreaming of a different time and a different place. A place more civilized. He wondered where ‘the chairwoman’ was. It would be nice if she was here to hold him right now. He missed her.

Boise, Idaho

Dr. Paul Kendall lay in bed thinking. It had been a busy month at the Constitutional Convention and he was tired. The Convention had been adjourned for two weeks to allow the governors to attend to the duties of running the Union of American States. Under the martial law declared after ‘the Pulse’ and the subsequent collapse of leadership out of Washington, the governors of the member states had assumed command.

They were now meeting to oversee the new nation’s war. Paul had taken the opportunity to head back to Boise. As he lay in his bed looking out the window of his Boise apartment, sun shone into the room. It was first light and the sun had just cleared the Front Range, bathing Boise in warmth.

Even though it was still spring, Paul could tell it would be a warm one. Amanda walked in with fresh coffee.

“The sun feels good this morning. Could we go out and play today? I need a break from meeting rooms and conferences,” Amanda said.

“Sounds like a brilliant idea. Why don’t I call John and see if he and Julie want to join us? We could go float the Boise River. Looks like it will be warm enough,” Paul offered.

The telephone system had been restored, but at the cost of each call, people were limiting their phone use. The local telephone company had brought back operators and switch boards. It would have to make do until computer companies were restored and new automatic switching systems were again available.

Paul placed a call to John, still in Bruneau. Arrangements were made to float the South Fork of the Boise River. John would bring two old rafts from the family household that had been surplus after Paul had bought his cataraft. They still held air and would get the job done.

Amanda quickly made breakfast and then packed a lunch for everyone. Gathering up their things, they headed down to the Chevy Caprice Paul had purchased after ‘the Pulse’. The engine had been modified and now ran with a carburetor.

By late morning, the four of them were pushing out onto the Boise River. Paul’s Caprice had been left at the takeout and everyone had squeezed into the old pickup truck. The four in the cab made for a cozy ride up to the put in. Paul noticed Amanda eyeing Julie and then giving him a significant look. He was clueless as to what she was trying to say.

When they were finally alone in their raft, Amanda said, “Couldn’t you figure out what I was trying to say?”

“No, just tell me. I’m not good at girl eye-talk,” Paul retorted.

“Did you notice Julie’s belly? She must be three months along,” Amanda whispered. The two rafts were both drifting down the river a short distance from each other.

“Well, they did get married a month ago,” Paul said. He quickly realized that John and Julie both were looking at him. He lowered his voice. “Are you sure?”

“Why don’t we ask them?”

“What?” Paul yelled. Now John pulled on his oars, moving their raft closer to Paul. As they approached, Julie leaned over and grabbed the lifeline on Paul’s raft.

“So, John, Julie, how has the ranch been this winter? We haven’t seen you guys for some time.” Amanda opened the discussion.

“Well, Meredith and Brittany have been having a great time taking care of Ed’s two grandkids. Tyler likes being the only grandson left. He gets to do all the cool things with Granddad. And Isaac writes now and then. He seems to be doing well in the Army. How’s Matt?” John asked.

“Well, Matt isn’t so good at writing. But thankfully having Isaac and Matt in the same company means we at least hear what they’ve been doing. Thanks for the updates, Brother,” Paul said.

“Any other news?” Amanda asked. This time she purposely looked at Julie. Julie blushed and John got a sheepish look on his face. “You two look guilty. Want to share anything?”

“Amanda, leave them alone. We came out on the river to relax and remember better days. If they have anything to say, they’ll talk when they’re ready,” Paul said. He withstood the stare that Amanda threw him.