America's Trust

by McDonald, Murray

  “Jesus,” breathed the admiral.

  “Local cell phones are working here in the UK but out of range of the local towers, there’s nothing. The Chinese took out all the Russian satellites and were a bit overzealous with their first strike, taking out a lot more than they intended. The Russians are desperate to meet with the UK prime minister. They probably want to negotiate a NATO surrender given what’s happened to our forces. I can only stall that for so long. Our allies will be nervous at the prospect of the Russians steamrolling their way across the continent. There will come a point when they’ll put their national interests ahead of the NATO treaty. We have to be prepared for that. Unless I can get to the president, or at least someone in the US soon to understand what has happened and how we proceed, I’m going to have to let the allies do what they think is right. Not that I think they will listen to me much longer.”

  “What about commercial flights from the US?” asked Keeler, trying to think of every conceivable angle open to them for information.

  “Those in the air are fine but they left before the blackout. Everything heading to the US has been unable to contact ground control and has been redirected to alternates. All scheduled flights have been cancelled by the airlines until further notice.”

  “What about Canada?” asked the admiral, “or Mexico?”

  “We’re not sure. Their communications are down also, although I’m told it’s more like they’re being jammed, whereas ours have just ceased to exist.”

  “Jesus,” exclaimed Keeler again at the scale of the problems they faced. “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador, I’ll keep in touch.” Admiral Keeler ended the call. An officer was waving at him and mouthing at him to pick up line two.

  “Hello?” he answered, selecting the call.

  “Admiral Keeler, Supreme Commander of Allied Forces Europe?” questioned the foreign voice.

  “Yes,” he replied, instantly regretting having been so stupid. He was on a landline and was asked to confirm his identity to a voice he didn’t know. If they were targeting the building, he was about to confirm that yes they had just eliminated the NATO Commander.

  “You, sir, I believe are the most senior member of the US forces still alive and a very hard man to track down.”

  Admiral Keeler sat down. There were many men senior to him, many, many men, including the president, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Forces.

  “Who is this?” he asked, gasping for air at the thought that that statement could possibly be true and the repercussions it meant for America.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you but if you want to end this war, walk outside and get in the jeep that is at the door. The driver will bring you to me.”

  “The Russians have done what?!” shouted the British General, interrupting Keeler’s conversation.

  Keeler wheeled around and listened to the soldier repeating the news to the General. Without a word, he did exactly what the voice told him to, realizing at that moment exactly with whom he had been speaking.

  Chapter 67

  The prime minister knocked tentatively at the president’s door. The cabinet had argued for over five minutes as to who would break the news. The prime minister was the second most powerful man in China and had to accept that it was his job. The generals were cowering. They were ultimately responsible for security.

  “Enter!” came the command from President Junpeng. He was a man who had fought his way to the top. Born a peasant, he had excelled at school and been selected for the best schools China had to offer. On outgrowing these, he was shipped to foreign establishments where his education and experience grew, as did his ambitions. He loved the West, loved what they had to offer their people. It was an offering that even with his greatest efforts, he could never replicate in China. Their numbers were just so vast and resources so limited. They were trapped. He was a great historian and reveled in the times when China was the foremost country in the world. Its great dynasties, economic and military powerhouses were feared by the world. He had one ambition. He would become the world’s foremost superpower. He had the ambition and, thanks to his meteoric rise within the party, he had the means and the resources. He just needed the plan.

  America’s Trust had been his brainwave. The Americans were at the weakest they had been in decades following the economic meltdown that had hammered Western economies. As the party’s deputy, he had been able to begin planning his great takeover. As president, he had been able to launch it. He understood the West, understood its greed, understood just how to bring it down. The war between Russia and the US wasn’t his idea but it was, he had to agree, brilliant. It had to come from nowhere and happened so quickly that nobody knew what had happened until it was too late. The intelligence agencies had to be blindsided and given little chance to react, a few days to build and then Pearl Harbor. It was the one touch-point that would start things immediately. It had been a risk. The unexpected return to base of the Russian carrier, the Kuznetsov, was not in the plan. But fortunately, the timings had worked. Before anyone who knew the truth had a chance to speak, America was plunged into a dark oblivion, all under his total control. He would be seen as the man who united the world. With America under his control, a weakened Russia would welcome their Communist roots with open arms. China, America and Russia, the three world superpowers joined together as one nation, all under his total control. The world was his to have.

  Mao Junpeng, a farmer’s son from rural China, ruling the world; it was the all-American dream. It could only happen in China, he had joked.

  The next phase of the plan required patience. While NATO battled with Russia in the West, he had to keep up the pretense of being on NATO’s side. Meanwhile, America would look after itself. Plunging it into darkness would destroy society to the point that they would welcome anyone who could give them back even a fraction of what they had had before. It was the genius in the plan. They didn’t need a massive army to defeat the Americans, they just needed to stop them being Americans. A country which had everything suddenly had nothing. President Junpeng had managed over time and with some difficulty to smuggle a small army into America. It was more than enough to secure the critical infrastructure. Airborne divisions had also been sent, further enhancing the force but still relatively small. It was, as predicted, more than enough. The Americans were leaderless, disarmed, disconnected and utterly unaware what had happened to them.

  With satellites down, Junpeng’s forces could be sent by sea, unhindered by overhead spies. The vast forces that would secure the country when he deemed their services could be turned back on awaited his command. The news from America was excellent. His forces had secured all critical buildings and the Americans were utterly clueless as to what had really happened. Many believed they had suffered a catastrophic nuclear strike by the Russians. Others just hoped they hadn’t and everything would come back on soon. After a few days, that attitude would change. Food would be hard to find. A country without communications and power would effectively stop functioning. Food would begin to be rationed once no end to their plight was immediately foreseeable. A dawning of realization that this was their new reality would begin to sink in and the survival mentality would kick in. It would get ugly, but the uglier it got, the more obedience they would gain when they did switch the country back on. Things would be different but they’d be better than the alternative they had witnessed.

  Initially, he had planned to launch his forces as soon as the satellites were down. However, the more he considered the impact of doing nothing, the more he realized that that was the best and most impactful course of action.

  A few weeks in the wilderness would make them all the more obedient and respectful.

  The prime minister walked into President Junpeng’s impressive office. It was adorned almost entirely by British antique furniture and modern American electronics. It was not what the world would have expected of the Communist leader. The prime minister winced when he saw that the president had been joine
d by his son, one of the president’s thirty-year-old twin boys and one his most trusted aides. His son was never far from his side and never away from his thoughts. The twins were his example to the Chinese people. He was giving them a better life, just as every Chinese parent should strive to do for their own child. Highly educated like their father at foreign universities, they had been born to rule. He just needed somewhere for them to rule. The prime minister had sometimes wondered if this plan was, in fact, designed to ensure they all had a chance. Li, who sat in his father’s office, would be the Chinese head of the Russian Chinese government. Jay, the president’s favorite, although he’d never admit it, was destined to head the American Chinese government.

  “Mr. President, I have some terrible news,” said the prime minister solemnly. Telling a parent about the loss of their child was not news you ever wanted to have to break.

  A few hours later and earlier than scheduled, the largest seaborne force ever assembled was sailing towards China’s new land of opportunity, the restrictions in their use of force to control the populous significantly relaxed. A nation would pay for their new president’s loss.

  Chapter 68

  “Can somebody please explain to me where the hell our forces are?” Jack said in frustration, speeding past the Raven Rock turn off. “How have these fuckers managed to do this under our fucking noses?”

  Frank leaned forward and whispered to Butler who nodded in agreement.

  Fuel was running low and from what they had surmised from the closed gas stations, would be impossible to get. Their options were limited. Butler stayed on the MD-16 and then took the Northern bound MD-15.

  “Where are we going?” asked Jack.

  “I suggested we get to the nearest military base, Mr. President,” answered Frank.

  “Good idea.” Jack watched the Pennsylvanian countryside whip past and tried to think what he could have done differently. Where had he gone so wrong? Why had he not seen Kenneth for what he really was? A million questions raced though his mind. They all came back to the same answer. Everybody had fallen for it. Every single person in the country. But he wasn’t just anyone. He was the president. He had sworn that he would defend the Constitution and ultimately the people, and he had failed them. The American people had deserved better and he was damned well going to make sure he gave them just that.

  Although the traffic was heavier than normal, Butler made good time and with Frank’s directions, they pulled into Middletown Pennsylvania within the hour. The Air National Guard shared facilities with Harrisburg International Airport and, again, Frank directed them exactly to where they needed to be.

  “How the hell did you know about this place?” asked Jack.

  “Sir, I know every military base in the area. You never know when something like this might happen,” he replied, unfortunately in all seriousness.

  Jack looked around. He was anticipating a slightly better armed facility, one where he could have taken control and led the fight. “Perhaps an Army base would be more appropriate,” he suggested.

  “This was the nearest facility of any forces, Mr. President.”

  It didn’t take them long to notice that nothing was moving. No flights were landing and none were taking off. A policeman stood at the entrance ramp to the main airport terminal, his car blocking the way in. The airport was closed. Butler drove beyond the policeman and took the turn for the Guard Station. The 193rd Special Operations Wing flag flew proudly, unlike any of the aircraft. They were all stationary on the apron.

  “Okay, Mr. President, you and Frank stay in the car while Swanson and I check if it’s safe,” said Butler, taking charge and leaving little room for debate.

  Frank climbed out to allow Swanson to exit the rear and took up position in the driver’s seat. If anything did go wrong, the message was clear. He would drive away before considering backing them up. His role was absolute. Nobody was more important than the president.

  Butler led Swanson towards the main office. The main door was wedged open in an attempt to cool down the previously air-conditioned office. A group of men in flight suits were huddled around a battery controlled radio, desperately trying to pick up a channel. Every turn of the dial delivered the same static sound.

  Butler cleared his throat, not wanting to startle the men as he entered the building. “Gentlemen,” he said.

  They all turned around and, recognizing Butler and Swanson’s military outfits despite their missing jackets, welcomed them in.

  “Good evening, Marine,” said the most senior officer, a colonel, stepping forward beyond the group.

  “Colonel, good to meet you, sir,” said Butler, recognizing his rank.

  “Do you know what in the hell is going on?” he said with a strong Southern drawl. “We’re hearing the Russians have nuked the shit out of us.”

  “I can assure you that has not happened, Colonel.”

  “Well, why isn’t one piece of our goddamned electronics working? We can’t get a hold of anybody, not even a radio station,” he added, pointing to the old battery powered radio.

  “I’m afraid we don’t know why yet, sir.”

  “Colonel, can those planes fly?” interrupted Swanson. She wanted to get to the point and quickly.

  “That’s about all they can do for now,” he sighed.

  “Well, we need to speak with you in private,” she said forcefully enough that the room began to empty before the colonel had even accepted her request.

  Butler waited until the last man filing out closed the door behind him.

  “Colonel, we are here on behalf of the President of the United States of America. Can it fly safely?” asked Butler.

  “None of the electronics work but we can fire up the engines and control the plane manually, as long as we can see where we’re going. But it’ll be dark in a couple of hours. I really wouldn’t want to fly without the instruments at night.”

  “But you can fly safely?”

  “Yes,” replied the Colonel.

  “Is it fuelled?”

  “Fuelled and ready for action. We’ve just been praying for the radio to burst into life and tell us what to do.”

  “Good.” Butler nodded at Swanson who waved at Frank. He drove the car to the nearest of the four C-130s that sat on the apron. “How many men do you need?”

  “Depends where we’re going and what we’re going to do. If you want us to broadcast, six, if just fly, another one.”

  “Wait a minute, what’d you mean broadcast?”

  “These are Command Solo C-130s. We broadcast FM, AM, TV. Hell you name it, we transmit it. Well, obviously not now because everything’s fried but ultimately that’s what we do. We fly as high as we can above the target below and pysch the enemy out with our broadcasts. Worked a treat in Iraq!”

  “You never know, so bring a full crew,” Butler said, thinking ahead.

  The colonel opened the door to the adjacent room and informed his crew they were about to take off. A little hesitant at flying without instruments, they stepped forward. Butler led them out to board and prep the plane. Frank and the president also boarded.

  “Gentlemen, this plane is now designated Air Force One,” said Frank to a group of startled and stunned faces. The president, with his hairpiece back on, saluted the crew.

  “Where to?” asked the colonel, proudly hiding his surprise and concern as best he could.

  “The biggest military base you can get me to quickly,” said Jack.

  “Of course, Mr. President,” replied the colonel, walking through to the flight deck, closely followed by Butler.

  “Colonel, we need you to disregard the president’s order and proceed directly to Cheyenne Mountain complex,” Butler said quietly. “It is of the gravest importance to national security that you do so.”

  “My Commander in Chief just gave me an order and I can assure you that I will be obeying it.”

  “No you won’t,” replied Butler taking the third seat in the cockpit.

&
nbsp; “I can assure you I will,” he repeated adamantly.

  Butler placed the pistol at the colonel’s head. “And I can assure you, you won’t. Dead men can’t follow orders, Colonel.”

  Chapter 69

  They must have run for over a mile before they stopped for breath, crashing through the undergrowth and barreling down the hillside. None of them had even spoken, they had just run.

  Their trail was going to be very easy to follow.

  He was furious with himself. He had always been impetuous in the heat of battle. He was only there for one reason and one reason only, the promise he had made to his sister. He would look after her baby, Lauren. That should have been his focus, not taking an opportune shot that probably meant he’d never get anywhere near Lauren.

  Helicopters were buzzing across the hillside. Their speed at coming off the hills and into the woods was saving them at the moment. If he had been on his own, he could have evaded them but with the two young men, that wasn’t an option. They were going to need a miracle to get out of this one. Once they discovered the vantage point from where he had taken his shot, they’d be as good as dead. Their trail was going to be too easy to follow.

  “Wait a minute,” said one of the students. “That’s the trail we followed to get to you.”

  Bill didn’t think twice, and ran down the path the two students had found him; it meant Lauren was down there. It also would probably be the last place they’d be looking for them, right at the heart of their operation.

  Despite their protests, the two students followed. Being around Bill was far better than being left to fend for themselves. As they chased after him, they failed to understand what his raised closed fist meant and continued to charge down behind him.