by C T Glatte
There were nods all around and the President cleared his throat and said, “Yes, I’ve never been so happy to see stormy weather.”
Thomas nodded and continued. “Their planes are more advanced and can operate in more varied conditions but no one from either side can fly when they can’t see their targets or their airfields to land. The playing field, at least in the air, has been leveled somewhat.”
President Franklin stood and strode to the map. His fit, six-foot-five frame made him look intimidating, one of the reasons he won the election, a strong, handsome confident leader for difficult times. He studied the map, concentrating on the arrows indicating enemy and friendly force movements. Like every American of military age, he’d served four years. He led a platoon as an Army second lieutenant and ended his career as a first Lieutenant serving in intelligence. He knew what the markers meant and he nodded, happy with the defense. “Can we hold this line, General Thomas?”
The corners of Thomas’s mouth turned down and he rubbed his chin, considering before answering. “For the time being, yes. Through the winter, no doubt, but when spring comes and they’re able to use their captured airfields…” He shook his head, “With two fronts, we’ll be stretched thin.”
He folded a few sheets until he found the photo he wanted. It was a grainy, black and white photo of a company of Korth Warriors crouched on metal hydraulic powered pedestals. “Like the launchers they used on the ships to crack our beach defenses, the aliens take smaller platforms into battle and have used them effectively to fling themselves behind our lines.” The next photo showed Korth firing Panzerschreks and Panzerfaust grenade launchers into the backs of American tanks. “They simply wreak havoc and we haven’t found a way to defeat them. So far, we’ve only seen one regiment of Korth, but if they bring more, we’ll be hard pressed to stop them.”
The President considered the photo. “I wonder why they don’t bring more? If they’re so effective, why don’t we see more of them? They could roll through us much quicker if they committed all their warriors. We’ve hardly seen any on the Alaskan front, almost like they’re in an advisory role. But why?” He looked at the head of the OSS, General Smithers.
General Smither’s angular face and long hooked nose was unmistakable. He was recognized as the most experienced officer among them. His ability to keep his job, despite frustratingly low success penetrating Europe and reporting solid intelligence to the many Commander in Chief’s he’d served, showed just how much respect he held.
He stood and held his chin up, his dark brown eyes looking down the length of his nose, past the glasses propped precariously at the very tip. “We have wondered the very same thing, sir. One theory: they might be trying to preserve their warriors. Before the war we didn’t even know what they looked like, now we not only know that, but know they’re vulnerable to our weapons. They can be killed. This could be why we haven’t seen them in more numbers.
“It brings up many questions, though. For instance, we’ve seen European technology advances in certain areas. Their weapons jam less, their aircraft engines are more powerful and their airframes are stronger, yet lighter. They’ve also advanced beyond our understanding of Meteorology, and are able to predict weather with startling accuracy. Their paratroopers can fly their parachutes much like gliders. All important and all, except the weather, we are able to reverse engineer once we have the items. They also seem to have some way to see us, without actually having spies on the ground. There’s no other explanation for some of the more — sensitive targets they’ve hit with complete and total accuracy. It’s more than them reading our mail. Some of their bombers hit targets that we’ve been extremely careful to keep as innocuous as possible and completely secret.
“They’re impressive.” He shook his head and put his thick gnarled hands on the table and leaned forward. “But these creatures came from space. That kind of technology must include far more than they’re giving the Europeans. If they’re trying to keep their warriors alive, then why not send them into battle with their full tech? They must have more advanced weapons than gunpowder and bullets. Why are they being sent into battle with human weapons? There are only two reasons we can think of, either they don’t want to win the war, which begs the question why, or they don’t have access to their technology here on earth, which also begs the question, why.”
There was a smattering of conversation and President Franklin let it continue for thirty-seconds before clearing his throat, instantly bringing order and quiet. He looked General Smithers in the eye and stated, “We need to know what’s going on over there, General,” there was danger in his voice and the room went deathly quiet.
General Smithers finally nodded, nearly a full minute of silence passing between them. “There has been some progress on that front, sir…”
THE END OF BOOK 2
I hope you enjoyed the second installment of the Korth Chronicles. As always, feel free to reach out via email. I read and respond to every email received.
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About the Author
C.T. Glatte lives in southern Oregon in the beautiful Rogue Valley with his wife and two sons. After over 20 years in the medical field, he’s now a full-time author.
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