Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1)

by Marcus Richardson

  Slamming his hands down on the table, the aging Yankee stood up, silencing those around him clamoring for a vote. The camera angle zoomed in on his figure again. The man’s face suddenly went slack with understanding. It was clear for Po Sin and Shin Ho to read.

  Po Sin pointed with his cigarette at the TV. “This one knows what is going on. You see?” The Interior Minister grunted his agreement and watched the TV smiling. “He knows the others were waiting for the right moment to spring this on America. He realizes only at the end that his country is doomed.”

  “America will not tolerate foreign soldiers on her soil,” the delegate said in a low, dangerous voice. Those in the chamber had to stay quiet to hear what he was saying. Po Sin turned up the volume on the TV.

  The Yankee statesman pointed a finger right at the French and German delegates. “She certainly will not tolerate you, who have blocked our efforts at destroying the machinery of terrorism from day one. Have you forgotten all that America has done for you? All of you?” he asked, looking around the room. More than one delegate sneered back at him. Only one or two looked away in apparent shame.

  “Our sons and daughters have fought and died so that your peoples could live in freedom…” said the American weakly. He was in shock. He couldn’t believe it. “We have spent countless billions of our taxpayer’s dollars to…” He looked around, his voice trailing off. Not many faces were sympathetic.

  “Ja. That is so…that is why we are so concerned now about the…safety…of America’s citizens. That is why we want to…help,” said the German delegate with a wolfish grin.

  The French delegate smiled, inclining his head in acceptance of the American’s words. “Perhaps it is as you say. How many times have we heard this statement from our other brother countries, as America led the effort to put Peacekeepers on their soil.” The Frenchman took his time, making sure everyone heard. This was the crowning moment of his diplomatic career and he was going to savor every sweet second.

  “Is it not beyond time for a taste of your own medicine, mon ami? Ah…how you say, ‘what goes around, comes around’, no?”

  The chamber erupted into shouts and curses, arguments and agreements.

  Po Sin clicked off the TV and waited for Shin Ho to absorb what he saw and turn back around to face the desk. “My friend, can you not see we are past the point where we should care what the Americans think? I just read Xhin’s latest dispatch from The Hague. The Europeans are doing everything they can to trap the American military forces there and around the globe. Any resistance the Americans put forth will be easily swept aside by the combined European powers—“

  “Whom we have been cultivating and supporting now for decades in secret…”

  “Correct again, General.”

  “If we act now…” mused Shin Ho. “Before they can return home…”

  The General puffed his smoke. “Yes. To make matters worse, our friends in Mexico plan on having a little border war. It seems some rambunctious Americans are trying to shut down illegal immigration and have slaughtered many innocent Mexicans in the process.”

  “A most excellent diversion…while they are focused on the border, we march right in—“

  “And then their land and resources become our land and resources.”

  The Interior Minister reviewed the report again in silence for a few minutes. Po Sin merely smoked contentedly. The Minister finally looked up. “Have we any casualty estimates?”

  “The General waved a hand in dismissal. “500,000 to a million. Mere drops in the bucket, Minister.”

  Shin Ho nodded. With America neutralized, a world dominated by a reborn Imperial China was actually feasible. The Chinese destiny was on the cusp of being reality. Centuries of Chinese prophecy and politics were about to be culminated in the ultimate empire. A single government to rule the world would be only years away, not centuries or decades. Shin Ho fairly salivated at the thought. The men who pulled this off would be treated as gods…

  The Interior Minister laid the report on his desk. “General. How soon can we begin planning?”

  Po Sin could hardly contain himself. “We have prepared for this moment since World War Two. The Army and Navy are on joint exercise trying to scare Taiwan at the moment. Forty-eight hours, and I can have them on the way to Mexico. This time next week, we can be inside American borders.”

  “Do it.”

  Po Sin nearly choked on his own cigarette. “What of the Politburo?”

  “Leave those doddering old fools to me. I know who really runs this country,” Shin Ho smiled. “Now, how about a toast to the conquering of America and the rise of the Dragon?”

  NORAD

  The Trials of Leadership

  MR. PRESIDENT, WE’VE just been informed that the Israeli Air Defense Force has scrambled. They have let us know that nuclear munitions are air borne,” reported the CIA Director. His face looked a hundred years old. He hadn’t slept in more than 36 hours.

  The President looked around his War Room. All the faces looked a bit haggard this morning. It’s been a week since the power went out...it only took six days to bring us to the edge of utter collapse. To the edge of nuclear war…too damn fast!

  “Sir, Israel’s ground forces are outnumbered roughly…” the Secretary of Defense scanned a paper, adjusting his glasses. He whistled softly. “Mr. President, they’re facing at least four-to-one odds.”

  The NSA Chief joined the conversation. “We’re tracking armies from Saudi Arabia and Jordan on the southeast, Egypt on the west, Syria on the north. I don’t see how they could have had so many forces in-theater if they hadn’t planned this.”

  “Sir, under these conditions…low-yield tactical nuclear strikes are their only hope. The numbers are just too big…” said the Army Chief of Staff.

  “This makes ’73 look like a skirmish!” hissed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. He too was looking at the report. He shook his gray head sadly. “Sir, it doesn’t look good, even if they nuke—“

  The President spoke, silencing everyone. “Al, get the word out, find all the foreign press you can—if anyone attacks Israel without establishing just cause, without hard evidence, we’ll back them up.”

  “Sir…” said the SecDef.

  “To the hilt,” intoned the President.

  There was dead silence in the war room for a few tense heartbeats. Everyone linked into to the video conference call knew what that meant. The Secretary of Defense set is jaw and continued.

  “I understand your orders, sir. However, I must inform you that there’s only two carrier battlegroups anywhere close to the region. Our other forces are in the first stages of pulling out already. If we change our minds now, it’ll take another three or four days to get most of the equipment turned around. By the end of this coming week, we’ll have roughly a quarter of our people in transit to America.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Secretary,” Admiral Bortsen nodded on screen to his civilian boss. He turned towards his Commander in Chief. “Mr. President, with those two carrier battlegroups we could wipe the whole damn region clean.”

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Admiral,” SecDef replied, “But we’re talking about combined opposition forces of close a million. And that’s not even including every fool willing to detonate himself in the name of Allah.” The National Security Advisor nodded her head in agreement.

  “Like I said, nukes are the only way Israel can go, if they want to survive,” the Army Chief’s image reiterated.

  The President held up his hands. “Regardless, gentlemen, I want it out on all the wires that we’re going to back up Israel all the way. I’ll not have these backstabbing sonsabitches turn on the only nation in the Middle East that gave two shits about the war on terror. We’ve been through too much with that little nation. They were treated too poorly by my predecessors. Too many American boys and girls have died trying to root out these terrorist assholes and now the governments we’ve all known harbored them are turning on Israel
openly. No sir, I don’t hold by that. Tim.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” called out the Secretary of State.

  The leader of the Free World leaned in towards the camera on the conference table. “I want you to spearhead this from State. Pull all the back-channel favors you got. I want everyone out there to know we mean business. No pussy-foot half-answers. There is no mistaking this.”

  The Secretary of State paused, visibly upset by his orders. “Yes, Mr. President.” The discussion was over. “My team is working on it right now, sir.”

  “Now,” the President said, shuffling the pile of papers in front of him. “Someone give me an update on where we stand this morning?”

  “Of course, Mr. President,” said Suthby. “I’m afraid I have some more bad news…”

  The President sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. It’s not even eight o’clock yet, and I’m on cup number three…that’s not a good omen.

  “We’ve received reports that the wildfires in California are spreading faster than first anticipated. There is some evidence that they were purposely set.”

  “You’re talking arson?”

  “No, sir, terrorism. The governor says his investigators are uncovering eye-witness accounts of middle-eastern men tossing flares and other ‘objects’ out the windows of cars traveling on back roads and forest paths. There’s growing concern that copycat arsonists are starting fires in otherwise untouched areas of the state.”

  “Fools…” said the CIA director.

  “Terrorists,” corrected the President. “Hank, I want the copycats hunted down for the terrorists that they are. We can’t have more of this shit going on.” He shook his head. What next?

  “Also…ah…the fires in southern California have merged to some degree outside Los Angeles. The outer limits of the city, suburbs and such, are on fire and it’s spreading.”

  The FBI director sat up on his display screen. “Sir, the violence and criminal activity in L.A. over the last few days is going to skyrocket once people realize that the city is going to be consumed in a firestorm. It’s going to get Biblical…”

  “We’re already getting preliminary reports that up to 50,000 have died on the streets in L.A. since the gang wars started. People still trying to evacuate are getting caught in the crossfire. The racial riots have just gone all out of control. We’re expecting a total loss of the city.”

  “Wait, you’re telling me that not only did we lose Atlanta, but we’re going to lose Los Angles?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. President…at this point we could throw all the manpower we wanted at it—there’s just nothing we can do. It’s bordering on total chaos. Completely out of control,” replied the SecDHS meekly. “Chicago may be lost soon, sir…” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “General Collrade outside Chicago radioed that he’s lost about a quarter of his men. There was an escalation in the rioting—“

  “Rioting hell, sir, they launched a coordinated attack on my boys—“ broke in the Army Chief.

  “Evidently,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said testily, cutting off his subordinate, “The rioters negotiated with General Collrade to release some of the hostages they held in downtown office buildings. Those hostages were roughed up quite a bit, from what he told us. There were bombs placed on the hostages and when they crossed into our lines, the bombs went off, pretty much wiping out that sector’s command center. The rioters then broke out of the Occupied Zone and took control of Navy Pier.”

  The Chairman pointed with a laser pointer on a map of Chicago an aide brought up on one of the larger displays in the room. Everyone at the table turned to look, grimacing at the amount of land marked in red as Occupied—all of downtown Chicago and a strip of land running along the shore to the massive Navy Pier.

  “These rioters have broken out and started taking land? What the hell is going on, a rebellion or a riot? I thought I authorized whatever force necessary?”

  “You did, yes, sir…but…ah, General Collrade’s forces just don’t have the firepower to take back the city. This is a home guard unit. They’re able to handle natural disasters and such, but with the war effort overseas, most of their heavy equipment has been…ah…loaned out, so-to-speak.. The rioters have begun taking out bridges and building fortifications, raising drawbridges and such. That’s not to mention the fact that we’ve estimated there’s a good three thousand of them or so, sir.”

  “How long?”

  “Sir,” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, “We’ve got reinforcements from Fort Knox on the way. They mobilized two days ago and are on the road to Chicago. They’ve got a spearhead clearing the highways ahead of them of all the abandoned vehicles. ETA this afternoon.”

  “What kind of reinforcements?”

  “The 4th Brigade of the 5th Infantry Division—that’s the newest Division modeled after the Digital Division…the 4th, sir. Brigadier General Joe Stapleton. He’s got a mechanized infantry battalion, tank battalion, engineers, recon and air support. Close on four thousand troops, sir. It’s the best we can do at the moment. All the other bases in the region are stretched thin providing support to other riots.”

  “Then why do you have an entire Division coming out of, Fort Knox did you say?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, Fort Knox. They were supposed to be shipped over to help out in Syria, sir—they have the generation two digital component, it’s a step up from the 4th, sir. When everything hit the fan, the orders to head overseas were put on hold. Good thing too, they were only a day away from transport.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. President, when they get to Chicago, there’s going to be hell to pay. They’re going to tear through those rioters like Sherman through Atlanta. Joe Stapleton is considered something of a Patton reborn, Mr. President.”

  “I like him already. I want a live feed from him when they reach Chicago.”

  The Secretary of State received a report off-screen, then turned back and looked shaken. “Mr. President!”

  “Tim, if you’re going to tell me what some ambassador has replied—“

  “That’s exactly the problem, sir. I have just received a communication from Allan. My speech really pissed ‘em off. He thinks they’re going to go ahead with this monstrous thing and vote…today now, in retaliation! It’s outrageous!”

  The President ignored him and scanned a copy of the communication as it appeared on his desktop screen. It contained the bare minimum of facts, just outlining the situation so that Washington could make better decisions. It arrived moments too late.

  “People, the United Nations is going to vote today on a resolution to deploy United Nations Peacekeepers on American soil. You’ve all seen the fiasco on TV from yesterday evening. It’s looking real now.”

  “Jesus H. Christ!” roared the Army Chief of Staff. “Sir, this is preposterous!” The room full of screens erupted into digital chaos.

  “I agree, Mr. President, this is totally unacceptable—“

  “Totally asinine—

  “Outrageous!”

  “This is an invasion!”

  “—the gall to do this—“

  “Enough!” the President roared. Everyone went silent. “Now I’m just as mad about this as you are—and I can tell you one thing, we sure as hell aren’t going to stand for this bullshit!” he said, pointing at the screen that held the warning.

  “They know that, sir, but with my statement about backing up Israel coming out just after this…” the SecState said, flustered. “It just fueled the fires to send Peacekeepers. They’re going to think we’re looking for a fight—like we’re going off half cocked. That’s just going to show that we really are unstable. I think the crazy bastards are going to do it.” SecState took off his glasses with a weary sigh.

  The President thought in silence for a moment, weighing all the angles. The Joint Chiefs just glared at each other. Each Branch Chief swore he’d personally make the foreigners pay for invading America, if they did. The Marine Commandant merely smil
ed.

  Finally, the President spoke. “Tim, recall Ambassador Allan. To hell with the U.N. We’re cutting our ties, once and for all. I want all donations and money stopped now. I want all our boys pulled out of U.N. Peacekeeping missions. Get this to Congress. If they don’t act, I’m going to issue an executive order“.

  “Right away, sir.”

  “I also want every ambassador to each of the countries siding against us to put the pressure on those governments. If that doesn’t work, we’re going to call them home too. We’re not going to let them get away with this shit—not now. Not now, dammit!” the President finished by slamming his hands down on the table in frustration.

  “What are you smiling at, Pete?” asked the beleaguered President.

  The country’s top Marine continued to grin from the other end of the table as the others around him stared in disbelief. He looked like he was enjoying a private joke.

  “You know what they say, sir, ‘Marines pray for a good fight.’ I’d say our prayers have just been answered.”

  SARASOTA

  The Shopping List

  LOOKS LIKE YOU were right about the war, Erik,” said Alfonse, the newly elected Building Rep from Building 1.

  “Unfortunately…” said Erik. He tuned the hand powered radio from the BBC broadcast. The other Building Reps, as they called themselves, were gathered in front of Erik’s apartment in the shade.

  “—eaking news out of The Hague in the Netherlands, new home of the United Nations General Assembly. Late last night, a highly placed anonymous source tells Sky News, in an emergency session of the U.N. General Assembly that lasted until early this morning, a Resolution was passed authorizing the United Nations Security Council to send U.N. Peacekeepers to America…for more on this developing story we go to—“