Dawn of the Tiger

by Gus Frazer

  General Stephens stood up, feeling too constrained by his chair. He had to move. ‘Sarah, unfortunately, the evil we face with China scares me more than the evil of a controlled nuclear explosion — which is why we need to make a decision and act on it in total secrecy. There can be no debate, no discussion, outside of this room. I alone will make the decision and I will live with the consequences.’

  The room fell silent. Fletcher and Sarah remained motionless. They all felt the decision had been made.

  ‘So, what next?’ asked Fletcher. ‘If we’re going to do this, we need to start evacuating people as soon as we can.’

  Sarah sat forward. ‘We do it under the guise of relenting to Chinese dominance — have the military start moving people out of the area so that there is as little questioning as possible. If the Chinese ask what’s going on we just say that we’re redrawing our sovereign borders — that the mining region is all theirs.’

  General Stephens nodded. ‘Yes, I agree. Fletch, can you please instruct the military to suspend all operations? We need the Chinese to think that we’re submitting.’

  Fletcher nodded.

  ‘Sarah,’ continued General Stephens, ‘handle the evacuation — I don’t want one Australian citizen to be anywhere near the area.’

  ‘Yes, of course, General’ she replied.

  ‘All right, then. Get to work. And remember, not a word to anyone. I’m going to make a call to President Allen and see if he would be willing to help.’

  Chapter 18

  Days of planning all merged into one. Sarah was exhausted. Getting home after midnight, she checked MiLA and noticed four missed calls from Matt — she had been screening calls all day. Too tired to call him now, she threw MiLA on the couch and stumbled into bed, falling asleep half-dressed.

  In the morning, her ambient alarm system brightened the room at 6 am. Waking groggily, Sarah felt like she had been asleep for all of five minutes. After a quick shower and getting dressed, she headed out the door, calling Matt.

  He answered immediately. ‘Morning. I was trying to get hold of you all day yesterday. I even came by the house, but you weren’t there.’

  ‘No, sorry. Yesterday was a manic day like you wouldn’t believe,’ she said, getting into her car.

  On the other end of the line, Matt paused. ‘You’re doing it, aren’t you? You’re planning to detonate a nuke in South Australia.’

  ‘Matt, don’t be ridiculous,’ Sarah replied immediately. ‘We were talking hypothetically the other day.’

  ‘Bullshit. I know when you’re lying, Sarah. Something big is going down and I know you’re involved,’ Matt’s voice was harder than Sarah had ever heard it.

  ‘Matt, please. Just leave it alone. I have to go, I’m at work.’ With that, Sarah hung up, cursing to herself. Matt was on to her and she knew he wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on. He knew what she was capable of after the coup went ahead. He wouldn’t underestimate her.

  Later that day at the office, Matt called again. Sarah saw his name on MiLA’s screen. She wanted badly to avoid him, but not answering would only make him more suspicious.

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’ Sarah answered as casually as she could.

  ‘I don’t know — you tell me Sarah,’ Matt spat. ‘I want some answers — or I go to the press.’

  ‘Matt, please,’ Sarah tried her best to sound like she thought he was being silly. ‘Let’s talk about it tonight, at mine.’

  ‘Fine. Nine o’clock at yours — and make sure you’re there.’

  ‘I’ll be there. See you tonight.’

  ‘Okay, see you then.’

  Sarah wondered how she could have been so stupid to have mentioned it to Matt. It would have been so much simpler had she just kept her mouth shut.

  Staring at her screen, Sarah thought about what they were about to do — and the possibility of it all going wrong.

  A knock at the door startled her. Fletcher peered around the door.

  ‘Hey, Marty wants to see us.’

  ‘Okay, yes,’ said Sarah looking up, her face flushed.

  ‘You all right?’ asked Fletcher, concerned.

  ‘I’m fine, just haven’t slept much lately,’ Sarah replied, standing up and walking briskly around her desk.

  ‘Know the feeling. Hang in there,’ Fletcher said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, ‘not long to go now.’

  ‘Yeah, I think that’s what I’m worried about.’

  Fletcher just gave her a half-smile and turned to walk down the hall with her.

  Sarah stopped suddenly and said in a whisper, ‘Are you convinced we’re doing the right thing?’ She looked at Fletcher with pleading eyes.

  ‘I am,’ he replied reassuringly. ‘We don’t have another option. It’s definitely a gamble but it’s worth the risk.’

  A young aide walked past them. They both smiled innocently until he’d passed.

  ‘I just,’ Sarah said softly, suddenly struggling with tears, ‘I pray no civilians get hurt.’

  ‘You need to steel yourself for the possibility that there may be fatalities,’ Fletcher replied in a no-nonsense tone, continuing down the hall, ‘but it is for the greater good. And remember, we’re doing everything we can to remove people from harm’s way. The army is being extremely thorough with the evacuation.’

  ‘I know,’ said Sarah, following after him, ‘and telling people that the Chinese are planning reprisal attacks seems to be working as a motivation to clear out of the region.’

  Stopping outside General Stephens’ office, Fletcher again put his hand on Sarah’s shoulder. ‘We’re doing the right thing, Sarah. Hang in there.’

  ‘Thanks, Fletch,’ she said as she knocked firmly on the door.

  ‘Come in, come in.’ General Stephens beckoned them to sit down.

  Fletcher and Sarah sat opposite the general at his desk in their usual spots.

  Stephens looked grave. ‘President Allen has agreed to help. He was somewhat excited about it. Not at all surprising, really. So, in less than a week, the plan will be executed.’

  Fletcher and Sarah nodded slowly. ‘What’s the date, General?’ asked Sarah.

  Stephens leaned back in his chair. ‘On 3rd October, two US B-5 stealth bombers, with the capability of flying well above the Chinese zone of defence, will take off from Christchurch airbase in New Zealand. They will fly due-west, passing the southern tip of Tasmania. Shortly after that they will turn north and commence their run over Adelaide. Then they will split up, one heading towards Western Australia, and the other through central Australia at the border with Queensland. They will be dropping a series of tactical nuclear devices, the biggest of which is a 50-Kiloton bomb. Operation Fulcrum will effectively render the major mines useless and inaccessible for decades.’

  Fletcher finished the scenario. ‘The Chinese will have no further use for us and be forced to go elsewhere to find their resources.’

  ‘There’s always the risk of them moving further into WA, creating new mines,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Yes, but they will know what we’re capable of — what we’re prepared to do to keep them out of our country,’ replied Fletcher quickly.

  ‘Besides, this was an economilitary invasion,’ said Stephens firmly, ‘they were here to secure cheap resources from our existing mines. If they have to build new mines, they would sooner build mines in their own country. God knows they’ve got enough iron ore and precious metals over there.’

  Stephens suddenly pushed his chair back. ‘That reminds me — Western Australia. That idiot, Ian Bright — the premier who cut a deal with the Chinese — will be left out in the cold after this. I want him removed from office and charged with treason as soon as this is over. I want some company when they lock me up for bombing our own country,’ he finished, wryly.

  ‘Sir, you will not be going to gaol. You will be a hero,’ replied Sarah earnestly.

  General Stephens kept his smile. ‘I hope you’re right, Sarah, but I can’t see
it happening. Anyway, how are we going with relocating the civilians living in the region?’

  Sarah opened her leather folder, pulling out a screen and handing it to Stephens. ‘The relocation is going as planned and we have already cleared 70 per cent of the townships and properties there. We’ve encountered minimal resistance from the locals, and nothing from the Chinese.’

  ‘Very good!’ Stephens said, flicking through the screen. ‘My not going to prison after this is completely dependent on two things: the Chinese not finding out about our operation, and not one Australian getting so much as a suntan from the blast. Fletch, have the Chinese been in touch? Are they asking questions yet?’

  ‘Nothing, Marty. I assume they just think we’re capitulating and clearing out.’

  ‘Good. If Xian or Yun tries to contact us, I’ll feed them the same story. All right,’ Stephens said, gesturing to the door, ‘if you could please excuse me I have some calls to make. The Minister of Agriculture wants to talk about why farmers are being asked to leave their properties.’

  That night Sarah made sure she got home early. She needed to figure out how to talk Matt out of going public with what little he knew. She was pacing with a glass of wine in hand, cursing herself for not having her strategy already planned. She’d been stretched so thin with the relocation of the civilians that she hadn’t had time to come up with contingency plans.

  The buzzer sounded. Sarah opened the door and Matt walked in, his tie loosened, his shirt creased. He looked dishevelled and flustered.

  ‘So Sarah, you want to tell me what’s going on?’ asked Matt with an air of forced calm.

  ‘Come in, Matt. Nice to see you, too,’ replied Sarah sarcastically.

  ‘Whatever. Tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Nothing!’ she cried teasingly. She playfully tugged on his lapels, pulling him in for a kiss. ‘You have to let it go, Matt.’

  ‘No chance,’ he said, pulling away. ‘I know you’re up to something. Either you tell me everything, or I go to the press with what I think is going down. You can’t be allowed to do this. I couldn’t live with myself if this happened and I didn’t do whatever I could to stop it.’

  Sarah could feel the situation slipping away from her. ‘Matt, please,’ she pleaded. ‘You have got to let it go. There is no plan, but if you go to the press talking about nukes you could start wholesale panic and people could get hurt.’

  Matt, exasperated, grabbed Sarah by both shoulders and shook her. ‘Just tell me, for God’s sake!’

  Sarah wrestled free of his grip and slapped him hard across the face. ‘Get the fuck out of here!’ she shouted. ‘You’re out of your mind.’

  Matt recoiled from the slap and for a split second considered hitting her back. ‘You fucking power-mad bitch,’ he spat, putting a finger to his swelling lip. ‘I’m going to the press!’

  He started for the door. Sarah panicked. She couldn’t let this spiral out of control anymore. She needed more time to think of a way to deal with Matt.

  Picking up the heavy glass vase that stood on a small, ornate hall table, she ran for Matt, her footsteps silent on the carpet. Lifting the vase high above her head, she swung it down just as Matt reached for the door handle. The vase connected with Matt’s skull with a loud crack, and he collapsed to the ground.

  ‘Fuck!’ she swore, breathing hard and holding her hair back from her face.

  Fumbling for MiLA, she decided to call Fletcher. Staring down at Matt’s inert body, she didn’t bother with pleasantries. ‘Hey, I’ve got a serious problem and need your help. Can you come over now? Great thanks.’ She hung up.

  Twenty minutes later, Fletcher arrived. Sarah opened the door to let him in. Confused, he stepped over the broken glass on the floor, trying to work out what was going on. Walking into the lounge, Fletcher saw Matt lying face-down on the floor — gagged, his hands and feet expertly bound in a submission hold, still unconscious.

  ‘What the hell is going on, Sarah?’ asked Fletcher, turning to Sarah with a confused look.

  ‘He found out that we were up to something,’ Sarah explained. ‘He threatened to go public.’

  ‘What’s he even doing here?’ Fletcher asked, genuinely baffled.

  ‘We’ve been seeing each other, Fletch — but that’s none of your business,’ Sarah replied defensively.

  This agitated Fletcher. ‘Jesus. Well I think it’s my business now, Sarah. How did he find out about our plans?’

  ‘He didn’t know anything,’ said Sarah, still defensive. ‘He was speculating but he was on the right track. If he had gone public and mentioned the word “nuclear” our plan would have been destroyed.’

  ‘Again, how did he even “speculate” that we were working on a plan?’ Fletcher insisted, sceptical.

  ‘Look, Fletch. I might have mentioned something to him early on, before we were really going to do this, okay?’ said Sarah, exasperated.

  ‘You stupid …’ Fletcher cut himself off before saying something he might regret. ‘Your pillow talk has seriously jeopardised this operation. What the hell are we going to do with him now?’

  ‘Look, we just have to keep him quiet for a few days. Until this is all over.’

  ‘You want to kidnap a political aide, formerly the prime minister’s advisor?’ Fletcher laughed. ‘Are you fucking insane?’

  ‘Damn it, Fletch. What choice did I have?’ Sarah cried. ‘He was going public. The operation would have been finished. I had to do something — and now we need to sort this out.’

  Fletcher held up his hands in resignation. ‘All right, okay. We need to get some people we trust to not ask questions to guard him somewhere safe — and well out of contact.’ Fletcher sat down on the couch and stared at Matt’s prone figure.

  ‘We need to get him out of Canberra,’ said Sarah. ‘They’ll be looking for him after 24 hours and we can’t risk him being discovered.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Fletcher, sighing. ‘I know some men who can be trusted. We can get him out of Canberra — I think I know the safest place for him.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘On a boat. A fishing boat to be precise. We can have him taken out on a cruise up and down the east coast for a week. The weather is lovely at this time of year,’ added Fletcher, deadpan.

  Sarah smiled and nodded her head slowly. ‘Oh, you’re good, Fletch. You’re very good!’

  He made some calls. By 1 am, two men came around to Sarah’s. Matt had come to and was wrestling with his ties, to little effect.

  Both men were clearly ex-military, casually dressed in jeans and shirts, their hair closely cropped. They were muscular, but not big men, and had an air of professionalism — they moved calmly and efficiently towards Matt. One of the men took a small leather pouch from his rucksack and unzipped it to reveal a patch.

  Matt, who could see what the man had, started to panic and wrestle furiously with his bonds, screaming through his gag.

  Sarah watched, horrified. ‘What are you doing, what are you giving him?’

  The man said nothing, not breaking his stride for a second.

  Fletcher put an arm around Sarah. ‘It’s okay — it’s just a patch that’ll put him into a deep sleep for about 12 hours. When he comes around he’ll be on a fishing boat somewhere off the coast with a bit of a comedown, but otherwise fine.’

  The man crouched down and attached the patch. Almost instantly Matt’s thrashing stopped and his groans drifted off as he passed out.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Sarah. ‘For a moment there I thought well, I didn’t know what he was doing.’

  The two men picked Matt up between them. ‘Sir,’ one of them said to Fletcher in a clear, respectful voice, ‘if you could please lead the way and check that the hallway is clear to the lift and the parking lot.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Fletcher. Turning to Sarah, he said ‘I’ll leave now, too. Does anyone know that Matt was here?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she replied.

  ‘All right. Get this
place cleaned up and work on your story in case he told someone that he was coming here. Keep it simple.’

  Sarah walked them to the door. ‘Thank you so much, Fletch.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. Literally. Don’t mention this to anyone, even Marty. He cannot be made aware of this. If it all turns to custard he needs to be able to swear that he knew nothing.’

  Sarah nodded, looking down, suddenly ashamed.

  ‘Hey,’ said Fletcher, grabbing her by the shoulders. ‘Look at me. You did the right thing tonight. Get some sleep and let’s not talk about it again.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks, Fletch. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Sarah closed the door and stared down at the mess in her hallway.

  Chapter 19

  It was yet another perfect blue-sky morning as Finn walked from the shed to the house. Over the past week, John, Jess and Finn had removed the charred rubble from the homestead and had begun rebuilding. Luckily for them, John’s cousin ran the hardware store in town so he was able to quickly get the deliveries to them.

  Finn’s shoulder was healing well, even though it still ached most of the time. He had mobility and the pain was manageable. Despite the injury, Finn had worked hard over the last few weeks. The heat made it tough work though, and often all they could do was rest in the hottest part of the day.

  ‘Morning,’ Finn called out to John, who was already working on the roof.

  ‘Morning, mate. How are you?’

  ‘Never better. Want a hand there?’ Finn asked, squinting upwards.

  ‘Get yourself some breakfast and then we can get stuck into it,’ John replied, returning to his work.