Rotfungus continued to cripple the American satellite surveillance systems, although after the first week a massive effort on the part of the U.S. government, what remained of NASA, and the worldwide communications and entertainment industry who owned and operated many of the satellites, was able to re-route almost 95 percent of the world’s electronic traffic through combinations of broadcast or fiber optic cable. At least the image of Hunter Wallace yapping like a Chihuahua was removed from most television and computer screens across the globe. Wags found to be posting the now famous image to the internet or broadcasting it were visited by gorilla-faced FBI and Homeland Security teams comprised mostly of African-Americans and Samoans. The humorists were beaten to a bloody pulp, their testicles crushed, and left screaming on the floor of their homes, pour encourager les autres. The offenders’ computer equipment was confiscated, as were all locatable assets in any bank accounts or money markets, as a fine to help the war effort. Only a few such examples sufficed to make sure that for the time being the President of the United States no longer barked at the moon, at least not on the internet.
The three American ground invasion columns had all come to grief. All three ground to a halt just barely inside the borders of the Republic, because they simply ran out of motorized transport. The NDF had destroyed it all. The American C-130 transport planes and helicopters didn’t dare take off. Their trucks, their tanks, their Bradleys and Humvees were littered across hundreds of square miles of the inland Northwest in various stages of dilapidation from artillery shells, Songbird bombs, Starfighter rockets, and IEDs whipped up by Middle East veterans who had learned the technique from Muslim guerrillas in half a dozen exotic lands.
The U.S. Combined Military Group South was stalled at Anaconda, Montana, surrounded by A.J. Drones’ Fourth Army, including the 85th Infantry Regiment, which in turn included Eddie Horakova’s battery of field guns. Colonel Jason Stockdale made it a point to get down to Horakova’s current position every day or so for a quick word to let him know that Stockdale had heard from his wife Jenny, and that Eddie and Bob Campbell’s wives and children as well as Kevin and Tammy Myers and their baby were safe. They were living in a rural safe camp by the side of Crater Lake, Oregon, and they were all doing fine in the camp school and having fun. The kids thought it was all a great game and adventure.
Group Center was dug in and besieged by Zack Hatfield’s Second Army at Fairfield, Montana. Group North, which had attacked through Canada with the connivance of the Canadian government, had only made it as far as Ponderay, Idaho, before they were halted and enveloped by the Third Army and the Florian Geyer SS Division, and forced to dig in. As Group North’s commanding officer, U.S. Army Lieutenant General John R. “Jack” Falstaff, remarked bitterly to his chief of staff, Colonel Justin Nym, while the shells crashed all around their dugout: “Some asshole in the White House told those lickspittles in the media that this would be World War Three on our side versus World War One on theirs. So why the hell are we the ones who are now stuck in trenches?”
Along the southern front, the news for the Allies was even worse. The NDF’s First Army along old Interstate 5, commanded by General John Corbett Morgan from the border city of Medford, the Fifth Army of General Robert Gair out of Klamath Falls, and the Sixth Army out of Burns, Oregon, commanded by General Robert DiBella, had completely turned back the Mexican hordes in less than a week, reducing them to a panic-stricken rout. Significantly, after the first week of Bluelight and shoulder-fired SAMs and dueling with Luftwaffe Starfighters in and out of the mountain passes, the Chinese withdrew the bulk of their remaining combat helicopters southward out of the hot zones, lest they go back to Beijing minus almost everything they’d brought and with nothing to show for it. The Aztec generalissimo, Alfredo Galvez, made a flamboyant exit on June 30th by wrapping himself in the Mexican flag and blowing his own brains out as the SS closed in on his command post.
Acting on orders from the General Staff, none of the three Northwest armies posted on the Aztlan border had crossed into Aztec territory yet. Having driven the enemy back, they would fight a holding action in the south while the more serious American threat in the east and north was dealt with. Instead, the NDF all along the southern front were hovering on the border, bombarding everything that moved on the Hispanic side, conducting lightning commando raids and air attacks, while occasional V-3s still drifted lazily southward to drop a load of unpleasantness on Frisco, Sacramento, or Fresno.
Aztlan had almost fallen apart; Third World countries just don’t have the infrastructure to survive a major military catastrophe. Local officials and government functionaries were no longer being paid and were turning predatory from Sacramento on south, with Los Angeles street gangs and rural jefes establishing themselves as Pancho Villa-style warlords throughout California. El Presidente was rumored to spend his time lying around his great palace in Los Angeles in his underwear, drunk and surrounded by naked prostitutes, while his clerical staff attempted to run the country. The once vibrant city of San Francisco, officially deeded by the Aztlan government to a huge “gay community” in exchange for the largely white and Jewish perverts’ admitted technical, financial, and administrative skills to keep the country running, had lost two thirds of its population owing either to death from phosgene and sarin gas, or else through flight away from the V-3s. The section of the white and Jewish entertainment industry that had remained in Hollywood was fleeing from southern California by private jet and yacht as order broke down completely and CNN showed their mansions in Beverly Hills, Santa Monica and Carmel being sacked and plundered by mobs of campesinos.
But the biggest military development in the past several weeks did not come from any of the battlefields. It was the sudden gas and biowar attacks against crowded U.S. population centers in Chicago, Cleveland, Miami, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and St. Louis, when agents of the NAR released phosgene or sarin gas into the public transportation systems and weaponized anthrax into certain other target areas. Tens of thousands of people keeled over in subways, buses, public assemblies and buildings.
The bulk of the victims of these carefully planned chemical and bio strikes were non-whites, blacks who were doing nothing but cluttering up the landscape, and assorted Third World peoples who had no business anywhere in North America in any case. America’s ruling class, for all of a century of political correctness, was still largely white and Jewish, and these had not been significantly attacked yet in their enclaves along the east coast. But the psychological effect of the covert ops attacks on the régime’s power elite was definite. Although for some reason it hadn’t gone down yet, they understood that what could happen in New Orleans or Philly could also happen in Georgetown or Manhattan or other Green Zones such as American Houston, and it was clear that the American authorities couldn’t do much to prevent it.
The political blowback of the United States’ increasingly obvious inability to protect its own territory and its own citizens from enemy attack grew ominous. The liberal and Jewish-controlled media screamed like banshees, railing at Hunter Wallace and demanding protection against “Nazi genocide” and a “third Holocaust.” (Jews didn’t like that term, maintaining that there had been only two Holocausts and both belonged to them.) Frightened blacks, Hispanics, and other Third Worlders were no longer willing to eat and drink and shoot up their assorted government checks, remaining drunk and docile in their own neighborhoods. Like any herd of animals, they got spooked when they sensed danger, and they threatened to break out of their pens.
* * *
Needless to say the excitement of war and the stress of being combat bureaucrats produced an increase in demand for illicit meat and tobacco products among the Green Zone’s élite; Vinnie Skins and his suppliers and his runners were working overtime, and not just on the spying end of their business. One day Lieutenant Robert Campbell, aka Richie from Chicago, was sitting in the office in the Arlington warehouse waiting for his car—he had one now—to be loaded up with cigarettes and
coolers full of all-beef burgers and chicken leg quarters, when he asked the harried Vinnie Skins why there had been no chemical or biological attacks as yet in the two major American cities without which the United States could not function: New York City and Washington, D.C.? “I mean, it was Operation Applesmash in New York and Operation Pigkill here that finally drove the Americans to the Longview Conference,” Campbell pointed out.
“Yeah, I know,” Vinnie told him. “I was here for Pigkill. It’s what got me this gig in the first place. As to why we haven’t cut the cheese here yet, well, there’s a couple of reasons for that. First off, these two cities are the most target-rich places in Amurrica for us, just like they were for the Muslims back in the day. D.C. and Jew York have always been where Amurrica does its really important business. Los Angeles used to be a third place, when the movie and entertainment industry was still there, and that’s why we staged Operation We Are Not Amused back all those years ago. [See The Brigade.] But that also means that D.C. and New York have always been the most securely monitored, patrolled, and locked-down places in the whole country. You know the kind of surveillance we have to put up with over in the Green Zone, and it’s the same in the more crucial parts of New York City, especially in Manhattan and the fortified towns in the Hamptons, where every crack in the sidewalk has a security camera trained on it, not to mention various goon squads always within a couple of minutes’ response time. That means that it’s damned risky for us to make a move under the best of circumstances, and with the heightened wartime alert level it’s even harder for us to gain access to the kind of targets that would make a strike worth it, plant whatever packages need to be planted, and then E&E successfully.”
“That night tickle you guys pulled off outside the South African Embassy a few weeks ago went off seamlessly,” remarked Bob.
“Yeah, well, we were lucky, and I wouldn’t have tried that cowboy shit except in really urgent circumstances,” Cardinale told him. “Our personnel resources Out Here have always been limited, even when things were more or less peaceful and we were operating under cover. The more people you have involved in any kind of covert op, the more that can go wrong. But now that the lid has blown off and the régime here has gone into full-blown paranoia mode, it’s going to be even harder for us to escape detection. In fact, I’m thinking of closing this warehouse down. It’s too well known, and some asshole over there at the FBI might get the idea of cracking down on organized crime as part of doing their bit for the war effort or some such crap.
“Secondly, strikes in the Green Zone here and the high end of Manhattan will produce a lot more in the way of white casualties than what we’ve been doing so far,” Cardinale continued. “We’ve been preparing for this day for years, of course, and we have some plans we’re working on right now which we’ll roll on when we get the word, but even here and now with the situation like it is, we’re under orders to try and keep white casualties as low as possible. Whites are a minority in the U.S. now, but even so, a lot of the individuals we gas on the Metro or blow up in their office buildings are going to be ordinary white people, folks who are working for the government just to try and get a paycheck and raise a family and keep some kind of decent home.”
“Then they should be doing it in the Homeland!” said Campbell angrily. “That’s what the Republic is for!”
“Nice ideological answer, but in real life things aren’t all that cut and dried,” said Cardinale. “It’s like the whites who fought against us during the war, the first war I suppose I should say now. There is still such a thing as an average American, God help the poor dumb bastards. A lot of them aren’t bad people in themselves; they’re just idiots who seem to have some weird fucking blindness hard-wired into their brains, so they can’t see what’s going on around them. They just don’t know any better than to believe whatever horseshit the goddamned United States and the Jew liberal media tell them. They’ve never been allowed to hear any other point of view, they have been told we’re monsters in human form, and they’ve never questioned any of it. They never had the mental and moral equipment to question any of it, because this filthy system made sure they didn’t. It’s all very well to say, ‘Well, they should have been smart and figured it all out on instinct like the first Northwest Volunteers did,’ but they didn’t. Their brains have been dulled, but they’re not evil, and they don’t deserve to die just for being dummocks whose minds are more on their kids or paying their bills or their other immediate concerns, than on trying to figure out what makes the world they live in tick. Most people simply aren’t that complex and analytical. Not everybody can be a George Lincoln Rockwell or a William Gayley Simpson.
“Anyway, even if these people may be a write-off, what about their children?” asked Cardinale. “They’re part of our racial gene pool too, and there aren’t enough of us left on this planet so we can write them off, or any other group of white people. Do we want another whole generation of white children to grow up hating and fearing so-called Nazis, hating the Northwest Republic because their father or mother died in a bombing of a government office or a gassing on a subway platform?”
“Yet President Morehouse has ordered that no prisoners from the invading armies be taken,” pointed out Campbell.
“That’s different,” said Cardinale, shaking his head. “Those are soldiers who joined the American military voluntarily, in search of a paycheck, and also for the last medical insurance and retirement that exists in American society since Social Security went belly up. They sought those benefits knowing full well that they would be expected to earn them by spilling the blood and taking the freedom of people of their own race in the NAR. That’s unforgivable, and the State President is right to decree that anyone who does that, anyone who sets foot in our country in order to do harm, has to die.
“But we’re talking big picture stuff here, Rich. We’re going to win this war, I can tell you that. I can feel it. Our two big secret weapons have worked, we’ve knocked the Americans out of the sky both physically and visually, and without their toys, they’re done for. That’s great, and I intend to help any way I can and kill anybody I have to in order to make that victory happen. I don’t deceive myself as to the result. Twenty years from now, there aren’t going to be millions of young white people walking around saying ‘Gee, thanks Northwest Republic, for not gassing my mom or my dad in their cubicle at the Department of Labor during the war! You Northmen guys are all right!’ It’s just a matter of keeping the level of hatred and fear and mistrust this war is going to engender in the non-racially-aware white population of North America down as much as possible, so that someday maybe we in the Republic can be reconciled to the millions of our people who either chose to stay here, or in most cases simply never thought to leave for Home because the Jews programmed their brains not to.
“You’ll notice that the cities we’ve hit with our witches’ brews are almost entirely niggerized and beanerfied,” Cardinale pointed out. “Some of those places where our teams have let a deadly fart, like Detroit and Atlanta and Baltimore, have gone completely feral under years of black rule. There’s no industry or infrastructure left to destroy there, nothing of value, just packs of wild black animals roaming in the ruins, and some gook storekeepers who make a living relieving them of their welfare money. The only whites in danger in Detroit or Atlanta or New Orleans are those stupid enough to wander into the primates’ habitat. We’ve launched biochem attacks on those cities, sure, but mostly for psychological and eugenic reasons.”
“Psychological and eugenic?” asked Bob. “Psychological warfare I get, but I’m not with you on the eugenics.”
“Culling the herds, young man, culling the herds,” said Cardinale. “Most of the population in all-black or all-Hispanic areas is very young, and so it follows that by attacking those areas and killing as many of them as we can, we’re not just killing X thousand niggers or beaners, we’re killing all the hundreds of thousands of picaninnies and bambinos they might have bred,
and their grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc. What put the white man on the road to demographic extinction back in the twentieth century?” asked Vinnie in a professorial tone. “Our participation in two hideous world wars between the European peoples, to the point where untold millions of white children all across the world were simply never born, because their fathers and mothers and grandparents died on the Somme or at Anzio or in the Dresden and Hamburg firestorms, so forth and so on.
“What kept us from being physically overrun by literally billions of niggers and gooks during the late 20th and early 21st centuries? A series of brushfire wars in Africa and Asia such as Mao’s Cultural Revolution, Vietnam, Biafra, Rwanda, Darfur, and of course, the mass disease and starvation in Africa that came from the blacks’ complete and total inability to cope with the modern world and take care of themselves. If it hadn’t been for those natural culls, the world would be all black and yellow today instead of mostly black and yellow like it is. Sorry, I’m rambling, but the fact is that’s another reason we need to try and keep white casualties on all sides as light as possible during this war—if we can wipe out large numbers of mud people while preserving what’s left of the shattered white gene pool as much as we can, we might be able actually to start re-balancing the demographic scales at some point in the future.
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