by Gus Frazer
‘But sir, are you not obliged to retaliate in kind?’ Xian asked, shocked.
‘I am not interested in wasting any more time or resources on what is now a nuclear wasteland. We must be smarter and use our heads, not our fists.’
Xian immediately relaxed. They were not going to retaliate. ‘Of course, sir. You are wise in your decision.’
‘Xian, you should well know that I am not interested in fighting wars,’ Yun said wearily. ‘I want only to grow our empire for the sake of our people. Australia no longer has anything that we need or desire. It is of no use to us.’
Xian’s relief was obvious. He was fond of Australia, despite all that had happened, and would have been devastated if Yun had ordered nuclear retaliation.
‘China needs you to re-establish diplomatic ties with Australia, Xian!’ Yun said, smiling paternally at the ambassador.
‘I will do my best,’ Xian replied, ‘but given the manner of my departure, I would be surprised if General Stephens would even accept my call.’
‘Ensure he does, Xian — and ensure diplomacy is reinstated as soon as possible. Is that understood?’ Yun asked, indicating their discussion was over.
‘Yes, Chairman. I understand.’ Xian turned and walked to the doors at the end of the vast office, sombre at the prospect of extending the hand of diplomacy.
In Canberra the morning after the bombings, there was full coverage of the events. The media sat in their rightful position, on the fence, providing arguments both for and against the actions taken by General Stephens. The journalists and media technicians at every major news provider quickly developed interactive maps and computer-generated re-enactments, detailing the extent of the destruction. Some pundits called for the general’s immediate arrest. Some hailed him as a national hero, the saviour of Australia. There were no reported civilian deaths in the attack, which helped General Stephens’ cause immensely. Had just one Australian died in the attacks he would likely have been hung, drawn and quartered by the media and the public. Thankfully, the vast majority of the public supported the move. An overwhelming 89 per cent of Australians on the Social News feeds agreed with General Stephens’ decision. The public very quickly decided that General Stephens was a hero — that he had acted selflessly, and with the nation’s best interests at heart.
While the overwhelming majority supported the general, the victory over China came at such a cost that the mood of the country quickly came back to earth following the euphoria of defeating the invaders. An article in The Australasian captured the feeling perfectly:
... the deepest wounds throughout this terrible incident, by far, were inflicted on the environment. The repercussions of the bombs will be felt for a long time. Environmentalists are right to be furious that General Stephens took such extreme measures to rid Australia of the Chinese. Their argument that he rid us of one enemy but introduced another, far greater one to the environment, is in many ways right. But for most Australians it is the lesser of two insidious evils.
The Aboriginal First Nation Coalition party leader, Sam Hislop, agreed that General Stephens’ actions were, under the circumstances, warranted and he endorsed them. As he points out, the nuclear wasteland of the inland of South Australia, created in a microsecond by the bombs, is what the Chinese would have spent a decade creating.
Many things changed when the Chinese invaded. The lucky country became the desperate country, and then, under the leadership of General Stephens, the courageous country. The nation has proven its resilience in the face of true adversity. What remains to be seen is how we will move forward, how we will prosper without the endowment of natural resources and, most importantly, how we will adapt to ensure we are never again an occupied country.
General Stephens was also lauded internationally. In the succeeding months, the Americans performed the role of his personal global PR machine. They made General Stephens an honorary citizen of the United States and awarded him the Medal of Honour, their highest decoration. It was, of course, in America’s interests to celebrate a leader who turned to them for help in his country’s time of need. Clearly, the bombings had also cemented US primacy in the Asia-Pacific. Once again, the US felt like the dominant force in the region — a position it wanted to maintain for as long as possible, even though it was clear their projection of power was now limited to tactical nuclear methods. Their military resources were stretched too far, their domestic economy too fragile to be involved on any other level. No longer could Australia rely on the ANZUS agreement. The country had to take control of its own security.
This was just one of the things on General Stephens’ mind as he sat at his desk in his new office outside the SOF, signing documents. The moment the Chinese withdrew, he vowed to spend as little time in the underground bunker as humanly possible, and moved his team above ground. The sun streamed through the window behind him, cutting a bright path as it illuminated small flecks of dust caught in the beam. It was mid-morning and he was in his productive zone, burning through the workload. In the three months since the Chinese withdrawal, he had regained his youthful energy. He even looked younger.
There was a knock on the door, but he didn’t look up. ‘Come in,’ he called out, continuing signing papers.
‘Morning, Marty. Mind if I come in?’ asked Fletcher politely.
‘You don’t normally ask, Fletch,’ replied General Stephens, now looking up from his documents.
‘Well, I have some news.’
‘What is it?’ General Stephens took off his reading glasses, his curiosity piqued by his old friend’s seriousness.
‘Well, Marty. It’s been a hell of a year …’ Fletcher started.
‘No denying that.’
‘And well, to cut to it, I’ve had enough,’ Fletcher finished. ‘It’s time, Marty.’
‘Time for what?’
‘Time to pull up stumps. I’m done. I’m retiring.’
General Stephens smiled. ‘It’s funny, I’ve been thinking of doing the same.’
‘It feels like the right time.’
‘I agree, and I graciously accept your resignation, Fletch,’ Stephens said, smiling.
‘Thanks. I hoped you’d understand,’ said Fletcher, more relaxed.
‘I won’t be far behind you. I promised to step down once this mess was over, and I intend on doing just that.’
‘Glad to hear it, Marty. When?’
‘Soon. Just need to make sure this defence blueprint gets signed off so that Sarah and Draven can start to implement it,’ Stephens said, gesturing at the image on his screen.
‘How long do you think?’
‘God knows,’ said Stephens, sighing. ‘The budget side of it won’t be a problem, even though we’re more than quadrupling it. The problem will be the social changes.’
‘That’s it, isn’t it — the toughest thing will be getting people to recognise we need a defence culture, not just a defence budget,’ said Fletcher.
‘Precisely. I like that, mind if I use it?’
‘My gift to you,’ replied Fletcher with a smile. ‘It’s a big job, mate. Glad I don’t have to deal with it!’
‘This is our one chance to get it right and set in motion a change of culture,’ said Stephens, mulling over the enormity of it.
‘I agree, but I also think getting the compulsory military service bill passed will be harder than defeating the Chinese!’ Fletcher laughed.
‘Don’t joke, mate. I reckon you could be right,’ replied Stephens, smiling. ‘Actually, the hardest thing is yet to come. Building this country back up without the wealth from resources — it’s a whole new paradigm for our economy and it’s going to be a long road back.’
‘Too true.’ Fletch stood and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to face his friend. ‘Thanks, Marty. Was a hell of a year.’
‘See you around, Fletch,’ said General Stephens, watching him leave the room.
Stephens sat playing with his glasses. Swivelling his
chair, he turned his back on the screen practically bursting with paperwork and stared out the window, watching the leaves on the trees outside playing in the sunlight.
‘One hell of a year …’ he murmured to himself.
Chapter 24
The one o’clock sun was at its merciless worst, beating down on all those who stood under it. Finn and John had been out most of the morning mending fences — a bad enough job without 37-degree temperatures. Walking towards the kitchen, Finn took off his dusty Akubra and used his neck scarf to wipe the sweat and dirt from his brow. He squinted in the direct sunlight, creasing his deeply tanned face.
Up the steps and into the relative cool of the veranda, Finn could smell the aroma of lunch coming from the kitchen. The unmistakable aroma of pan-fried steak made his dry mouth water. Dropping his hat on the bench seat outside the door and taking off his neck scarf and boots, he opened the flyscreen. Stepping inside, it took a moment for Finn’s eyes to adjust to the light.
‘Hey, take a seat. I’ve got a steak and salad ready to go,’ said Jess, greeting Finn with a smile.
‘Thanks. What a morning! Once again your old man is working me to within an inch of my life,’ said Finn, taking a seat and reaching for the glass of water on the table.
‘You should both be taking it easy out in that heat today. One of you will pass out,’ said Jess, tipping the steak onto a plate.
‘Yeah, it’ll be me that does it, too,’ said Finn, rubbing his face.
‘Here you go,’ said Jess, putting the plate on the table. ‘Where’s Dad? Is he coming in?’
‘He said he’ll be in shortly. Think he was going down to check on the guys doing the fencing in the bottom paddock,’ replied Finn around a mouthful of steak.
The distant sound of an engine made them both look up at one another. ‘Not expecting anyone today, are we?’ asked Finn.
‘No. Might be the builders?’ Jess suggested, shrugging.
Finn got up from the table and walked to the kitchen window to see who was visiting them unannounced. Looking out, he saw that it was a military 4x4 — the kind they used out in the desert. The vehicle drove past the fence and up the driveway, coming to a stop outside the house in a cloud of dust.
‘Stay here,’ said Finn, walking to the door. Jess took his place at the kitchen window.
Outside, Finn stood on the veranda, watching the vehicle suspiciously. No one got out and, from what Finn could make out, there was only one person in the truck. But the windows were so dusty he couldn’t see who it was.
Though the engine was switched off, it was ticking as it began to cool, the metal contracting.
Finally, the driver’s door opened. Slowly the driver stepped out, walking around the front of the vehicle, allowing Finn to see who it was.
‘Sarge!’ yelled Finn, starting down off the veranda.
‘Hunt. Finally tracked you down,’ replied Higgins, walking with a limp to greet Finn.
The two men embraced hard, slapping each other’s backs.
‘It’s good to see you, Sarge,’ said Finn, grinning broadly. ‘I tried to find out what happened to you guys after the bridge mission, but it was impossible getting anything useful out of the army.’
‘You know the army,’ drawled Higgins, ‘can’t make anything too easy.’
Finn stared at Higgins. It was strange to see him again. His face was clean and no longer permanently sunburnt. He looked 10 years younger. He was dressed in a light blue shirt, tucked into dark grey combats. Almost normal.
‘Come on inside, out of the heat,’ Finn said, moving towards the house. ‘I want you to meet Jess.’
Stepping into the cool of the kitchen, Finn introduced Jess.
‘Hello, Jess,’ Higgins said politely. ‘Lovely to meet you.’
‘You too. So you fought with Finn then?’ asked Jess, somewhat suspiciously.
‘Yes, I had the distinct pleasure of leading Hunt here into both his first and last battles,’ Higgins said, smiling.
‘Well, you two must have a lot to catch up on,’ said Jess, moving away. ‘Think I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Thanks, Jess,’ said Finn, watching her leave. ‘Take a seat, mate,’ he gestured to Higgins. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘Just a water, thanks. After the war I swore never to come back out to the desert again, so you should feel pretty bloody special that I would break my promise to come and see you.’
‘Thanks, mate. You could have just called,’ remarked Finn, chuckling.
‘Smart ass.’
‘So what’s been happening?’ asked Finn.
‘Before I get into that, tell me what happened to you and Carver. The last I saw of you two, we were tearing through the bush being chased by a bunch of angry Chinks — pissed off that we’d blown up their bridge.’
Finn looked down at the table momentarily, his smile erased. He crossed his arms. ‘Mate, what can I say? It was fucking crazy.’
‘I know it was. I was there, remember? But what the hell happened to you two?’ Higgins insisted.
Finn squirmed. He didn’t want to talk about it. ‘Okay. So when it all went to shit we began moving back, not far behind you lot. I saw Carver take a round in the shoulder, so I went back to get him. Everything was happening so quickly, by the time I had him up and moving we were cut off from you guys. I don’t actually remember what happened but next thing I know I’m coming to in a shed, tied up and with a cracking headache. And I hear these screams, these fucking awful screams, you know,’ he nodded to himself. ‘And it wakes me up pretty quickly, yeah. So, I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do when the door opens and they drop Carver down. They’d been torturing him. Pulled his front fucking teeth out. They hadn’t even asked him a single question, the sick bastards.’
Higgins was listening intently now. Nodding.
‘I’m lying there and this officer comes up to me, right, and leans down and just says, “You’re next”. That scared me, mate, because I’m looking at Carver and thinking he’s going to do that to me.’
‘Fucking sick bastards. Did you get the officer’s name?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘Damn,’ said Higgins, looking away.
‘So, anyway,’ Finn resumed, ‘I managed to cut the ropes and find an opening in the shed. I pulled back a corner of corrugated iron and dragged Carver out with me. He’s able to walk, but then, about 50 metres from the shed, we’re spotted and all hell breaks loose. We’re going as fast as we can, but there’s no way he’s going to outrun them. Our only chance is to get into the bush and hide. Then Carver gets hit …’Finn paused a moment and drank some water. He noticed that his hands were shaking. Breathing deeply, he tried to slow himself down.
‘It’s all right, mate. Take your time,’ said Higgins encouragingly.
‘Yep. I haven’t told this to anyone,’ Finn exhaled. ‘Thought I was okay with it, but it’s hard when you talk about it.’
‘I know, but it helps in the long run — trust me.’
‘So Carver’s hit, I’ve got his blood and brains all over me. And I’m standing there in the dark, and these Chinese fuckers are coming down on me fast. So I run for it. I don’t check Carver. I’m pretty sure he’s dead, but I didn’t check. I just leave him and I leg it as fast as I can …’ Finn choked back hard. The emotion had been rising in his chest and he felt a huge lump rising in his throat. ‘I was so bloody scared. There was no way they were going to do that to me, no way, no fucking way,’ Finn snorted, the snot running down his throat, and he wiped angrily at the tears in his eyes.
‘It’s all right,’ Higgins extended his arm across the corner of the table and gripped Finn’s shoulder. ‘I’d have done exactly the same thing — you were acting on instinct. You didn’t have time to stop and check his vital signs, you were operating in survival mode and your instincts took over — and they knew what to do. When you’re acting on instincts you don’t need to think, they do that for you way faster than your mind can. I
n that situation, your instincts are right on and, I know you, you’ve got good instincts. Carver was dead. Deep down you knew that, and you kept running to stay alive. That’s why we’ve got instincts — they look after us. Y’know what I mean?’
Finn had calmed down now and was staring at Higgins with bloodshot eyes ‘Yep, I know. It’s just hard coming to terms with it, with the guilt.’
‘You gotta let it go — it’s the only way to survive.’ Higgins looked Finn straight in the eye and held his gaze for a long time.
Finn nodded.
‘I’ll try, mate. Thanks. So what about you, then?’ Finn asked, desperate to change the subject and take control of his emotions.
‘Well, I resigned from the army after the Chinese pulled out — had enough. Didn’t last long though, ’cos I’m back. But this time I’m private army — for IXR Mining. The pay’s much better, travel is good and most of the time it’s just glorified security work.’ Higgins shrugged.
‘Nice one,’ said Finn, not surprised. It seemed like Higgins was made for that life. ‘Sounds like a good move.’
‘Yeah, which is part of the reason for finding you,’ said Higgins, sizing Finn up. ‘I’m recruiting some men for a job in Canada, up near the Arctic. I need good men: men who know how to get a job done. It’s a bit different from here, as you can imagine, but I’m hoping you might be interested.’
Finn played with his glass, rolling it around in circles on its edge, staring at the old wooden table, avoiding Higgins’ eyes.
‘The money is really good. You’d be gone three months and that would be it. Canada’s great at this time of year,’ Higgins said hopefully.
But Finn wasn’t thinking of the money or the country — he was thinking of the thrill of action, of being part of a team again. Turning his head to look out the window, he saw Jess walking back from the barn. As a gust of wind kicked up dust around her, she squinted and put her hand to her old Akubra to keep it from flying off.