The Monroe Doctrine

by James Rosone

  “I’m doing good, Eric. Thanks again for driving out here to pick me up.”

  “Hey, what are big brothers for? I’m just glad you’re alive and doing OK.”

  As Rob climbed in, he commented, “This is a pretty damn cool truck, bro. You’re going to have to tell me about this deal. I just might have to get one myself.”

  His brother smiled as he tossed Rob’s crutches in the cab of the truck. “Sure thing, man. Brandon Ford is running some insane deals. I’ll bet if we show up there with you looking like this, they’ll practically give you the truck.”

  The two of them laughed, and Eric started driving them out of the VA facility. Once Eric had guided the vehicle onto the freeway to drive back to Brandon, Fortney asked about their parents and their sister. The whole family still lived in the Brandon, Valrico, and Riverview area. He’d talked with them briefly since the start of the war, but he wanted to know from his brother how they were doing. Their dad was still working for the Hillsborough County Sheriff office, which had been busy as heck since the war had begun. Their sister, Elise, was in her final year of nursing school at USF.

  Eric stole a glance at his brother as he checked his blind spot. “Everyone’s doing fine. They’re just concerned about you. Mom and Dad both said you could stay with them if you want or think you’ll need some extra help.”

  “You know, it’s just a leg fracture, some stitches, and a concussion. It’s not like I’m an invalid,” Fortney said with a chuckle. “I can still get around on those new forearm crutches, which, by the way, are a million times better than those older crutches we used to have.”

  “I know, I know. Mom wanted me to put the offer out there. I told them you were just going to chill at my place until the Army decides what they’re going to do with you. By the way, have you heard any news on that end?”

  “I did. I was finally able to speak to someone at my unit yesterday. I was told to take the rest of the week off and just rest at home. On Monday, they’d like me to report to the Armory. They said they’d find something for me to do. More than likely, they’ll just have me answering the phone or something easy like that until my leg gets better.”

  His Guard unit was still deployed down in the Keys. He’d heard talk that they might be crossing over into Cuba soon.

  “How long until they say your leg will be better?” Eric inquired.

  “Doc says at least four weeks. Then I may or may not get some physical therapy and I’ll be able to return to my unit.”

  “Do you want to go back?” Eric pressed. “Is there any way you can avoid rejoining them?”

  “Ah shucks, Eric. Are you saying you don’t want me to accept an all-expense-paid trip to Cuba, courtesy of the US Army?”

  The two laughed, breaking some of the tension.

  “Hey, you do what you want to do,” Eric responded. “I suppose they gave you a Purple Heart for your hospital stay, didn’t they?”

  Fortney smiled. “They sure did. Apparently, I’m getting some other award soon for taking those two shooters out with my nonregulation, non-unit-issued pistol I had brought with me too.”

  Eric laughed. “You know, they wrote a story about what you did down there in the Tampa Bay Times. A couple of guys in your unit told a reporter that if you hadn’t shot those two guys, they likely would have killed a lot more soldiers in your unit. They said you were some kind of super-soldier hero for rescuing your squad leader from a burning vehicle with a broken femur and then shooting those two guys. I wouldn’t be surprised if they give you a Silver Star. That was some real heroic stuff, little bro.”

  Rob didn’t say anything right away. He hadn’t heard about the local newspaper article and he sure didn’t think of himself as a hero. He’d saved Hector, only for him to die minutes later. He had just had a kid. Now his son would never know his dad. If only I’d paid more attention to our surroundings and spotted those attackers sooner, he lamented. I could have really saved him…

  “Hey, we don’t have to talk about any of that,” Eric said, apparently sensing his brother’s distress. “I’m sure it’s something you’d rather forget. Speaking of forgetting, why don’t we head over to B-Dubs? They’ve finally opened everything back up—everyone’s been getting the COVID vaccine for weeks now.”

  Rob just stared out the window, oblivious to what his brother had said. He was lost deep in his thoughts. Leaning back against the headrest of the chair, he closed his eyes and tried not to cry. He just wanted to get super drunk or drift off into sleep and forget about everything that had happened over the last few weeks.

  Chapter Ten

  Jade Dragon

  Joint Battle Command Center

  Northwest of Beijing, China

  Xi Zemin studied the latest models and projections for the battle to capture Taiwan. The battle to reclaim the renegade island had been raging now for nearly two weeks. They had expended an enormous number of missiles and precision-guided ordnance on subduing the island. Xi just hoped it was enough.

  The blue light around the camera above Xi’s computer monitor turned on. It raced in a circle twice, letting him know JD was actively using it.

  “Good Morning, JD,” Xi said.

  “Good morning, Father. How may I be of service?”

  Every time Xi heard the posh British accent, it reminded him of Dan. It had been Dan’s idea to give the AI this accent, which had reminded him of his time at Oxford. Dan said those years studying at the university had been some of the best of his life: the time when he’d felt the most free and full of optimism. Now the voice reminded Xi that Dan was no longer here with him. He missed the younger man. Aside from being the most gifted programmer he’d ever known, and he’d known plenty, Dan had become a friend over the years.

  “JD, I’m looking at some of the military reports of the munitions being expended against Taiwan. They look incredible. Are we going to be able to replace them to meet our other objectives?” Xi asked, skeptical that they’d be able to keep up this kind of pace.

  “Several of the generals have been raising that same concern, Father. They have been questioning if I know what I am doing. I can assure you, and them, that I am more than capable of making sure we have enough munitions to complete the task of subduing the island. I have assigned more than five hundred factories to produce missiles and cruise missiles and another two thousand factories to produce bullets for our soldiers’ weapons, aircraft, and tanks. Why do these generals and officers continue to doubt my assessments?” JD asked. His voice couldn’t convey annoyance or sarcasm, at least not yet. Xi suspected it would have if his speech patterns had allowed it.

  Xi tried to explain to his AI that sometimes humans had a hard time letting a machine have control of something, that most military officers who rose into the upper ranks of the military tended to be control freaks and wanted to be involved in the minutia of these kinds of details. It took Xi half an hour to explain this concept to JD in a fashion that he’d understand.

  “Father, at the current pace, I believe we should receive an offer of surrender from the Taiwanese government within the next two weeks,” JD announced. Xi thought he could detect a hint of pride in that statement but brushed that aside.

  “Really? You changed your assessment of the situation, then? Because a few days ago, you had said they would most likely hold out for another six weeks or so.”

  “Yes, that is true. When we talked about the resistance on Taiwan and the kind of human loss our soldiers would likely sustain, I reexamined the strategy. I readjusted the parameters to accept a higher number of civilian losses on the Taiwanese side if it meant we would lose fewer soldiers as a result. When the strategy changed, I sent a new set of coordinates over to the DF-21 crews operating our ballistic missiles—”

  “Whoa, JD. What did you have the missiles target?” Xi asked, concern in his voice.

  “I had several of our missiles destroy the Shihmen Dam, which emptied the reservoir and the two reservoirs below. This completely flooded New
Taipei and the old city. Then I had a pair of missiles destroy the Fei-tsui Dam, which emptied that mountain reservoir, further flooding the capital city. Lastly, I had the missile crews target the Zengwen Dam. This was the final dam and reservoir needed to destroy the country’s last supply of fresh water. With severe flooding damage across many of the major cities and now no supply of fresh drinking water, the residents of the island will suffer greatly the longer the government tries to hold out. After running some calculations, I believe their government will look to end hostilities with us in the coming week.”

  Xi shook his head in horror and awe. JD was so cavalier and nonchalant about the death and destruction he had just wrought on tens of millions of people. This lack of valuing human life sent chills down his back. At the same time, it was this calculating decision process, devoid of emotions, that made JD so effective at wargaming.

  JD had been given a few parameters for devising his strategies. He was not to use weapons of mass destruction, which covered a host of areas. Also, he was not to use weapons or technologies that could evoke a disproportionate response from the Americans, like shutting the lights off in America. While an attack like that was something JD could probably accomplish, the Americans would likely counter with their nuclear arsenal.

  “JD, I want to change subjects with you. Do you believe the Army and Air Force are prepared for the summer offensive?”

  The blue light around JD’s camera, or “eye” as Xi called it, circled a couple of times as if JD were thinking about his answer. Xi held back a chuckle; in his mind, the AI had probably processed the information for one one-millionth of a second and calculated his answer, but he wanted to pretend he was crunching some serious data, so he had his little thinking light circling instead.

  “The tanks, vehicles, missiles, bombs, and aircraft will be ready for the offensive. I have identified where stockpiles of munitions should be placed in advance of the war, and I’ve started to have items delivered there, fresh from the factories. Men and women are being drafted on a daily basis and reporting to training bases. I have been monitoring their training, and I have had the Army and Air Force create the new units for these recruits to be formed up in. I have done all I can on my part, Father. What I cannot account for is the officers that will lead these men and women.”

  Xi thought about that for a moment. Then he asked, “What if the wounded soldiers from the campaigns in the Americas are transferred to the new units you are creating and given leadership roles? Might this solve your dilemma?”

  The blue light circled a couple of times before JD replied, “Yes, Father. That is something I had not considered. I will factor that into my future decisions. Yes, the wounded soldiers would provide the leadership and experience needed for these new units.”

  *******

  President Yao looked at his military generals and his head scientist with scorn and contempt as the meeting finally got started.

  The President directed his wrath at the man who was supposed to protect the nation. “General Li Zuocheng, what are your forces doing to counter these cruise missile attacks hitting our strategic military bases and factories? Not only was the Shenyang Aircraft Corporation’s production line hit, so was one of our strategic bomber bases. They destroyed fourteen of our H-6 bombers!”

  The general didn’t flinch or squirm in his seat. He’d become accustomed to the President’s needling over setbacks. “Mr. President: first, we cannot prevent these kinds of attacks from taking place. Second, we have far too much coastline to patrol, and these Virginia- and Ohio-class submarines are able to launch these kinds of attacks from many hundreds of miles from our coastline—well outside the patrol range of our sub-hunting patrol boats.”

  “Then what? We are supposed to just take these hits on the chin? Unacceptable, General!”

  “That is not what I said, Mr. President,” General Li countered. “Three days ago, the Guizhou Soar Dragon UAV successfully identified what we believe was a Virginia-class attack submarine in the East China Sea. The UAV was able to spot the sub launching twelve cruise missiles roughly three hundred miles off the coast. The drone was able to send a warning to the HQ-9 air-defense systems in the path of the missiles so they could attempt to intercept them. And our defense system was able to intercept two of the twelve missiles—”

  Cutting him off, the President angrily shot back, “Yes, but ten missiles still hit. What are we doing to hunt these enemy subs down so they can’t keep attacking us like that?”

  General Li sighed, much like a parent sighs when their child won’t let them finish explaining the answer to their original question. “Mr. President, what I was going to tell you is that Soar Dragon was also able to direct one of our Wing Loong unmanned combat aerial vehicles to engage the submarine with its light torpedoes. The UCAV was able to successfully sink the American sub.”

  A few of the generals around him nodded in approval, satisfied with the outcome.

  President Yao softened his response; this was unexpected news. He wished the general had led with it. “I was not aware we had sunk one of the American submarines. Can you please tell me about this new antisubmarine process or system you have deployed?”

  The general smiled as he bowed his head slightly. “Of course, Mr. President. This was a strategy proposal Dr. Xi had provided us from Jade Dragon a little more than a year ago. I was skeptical about it at first; however, since the war with the Americans started, it has proved to be a good sub-hunting tool. It’ll become even better in the coming years as new sensors are added to it.

  “The Guizhou Soar Dragon UAV is able to stay aloft for up to ten hours. When the UAV detects a submarine-launched missile, it looks to identify the closest UCAV in the area and directs it to the location of the launch. I think it might be better to let Dr. Xi explain how the last part of this process works—it’s his AI that came up with the device.”

  Dr. Xi blushed slightly at the compliment and then cleared his throat to speak. “Thank you, General Li. Mr. President, JD has come up with a tool that will greatly aid us in our submarine hunting. It’s taken our existing light torpedo and turned it into a short-range sub-hunting device. Basically, what we’re doing is removing the warhead on the torpedo and then increasing its fuel and adding some additional sensors to it. When the attack drone is directed to the location of the suspected enemy sub, it drops one of these redesigned torpedoes to prosecute the hunt. As soon as the seeker torpedo drops in the water, it turns on its active sonar system and actively pings the area. It starts shallow and then continues to move through the different thermoclines until it reaches a depth of one thousand meters.

  “Once its sonar has found the enemy sub, it dispatches a communications buoy to the surface. This buoy sends a message to the UCAV: where it found the American sub and what depth, speed, and bearing it’s heading. That data is fed into the other light torpedoes the UCAV is carrying. Once it’s repositioned for the attack, it releases the next torpedo. The AI has predicted this new antisubmarine-warfare tool will increase the likelihood of us scoring a hit against an American submarine to well over ninety percent.”

  President Yao felt a lot better after hearing this longer explanation. He’d started the meeting madder than a hornet. Now he realized his generals and Dr. Xi really did have things under control. Perhaps I’ve been too harsh with them, he considered.

  Waving for an aide to bring them all a fresh cup of tea, the President changed his demeanor as he transitioned them to the next hot topic: Cuba.

  Yao turned his attention to their guest of honor at the meeting—a man who had flown a long way to be here in person. “General Song Fu, I am most pleased that you are able to join us for this meeting. I know it is risky for you to travel here from South America. I normally wouldn’t have asked for you to join us in person like this, but I believe your trip here will help us better understand your plans and operations in the Caribbean. Please, go ahead and give us a short update in Cuba and tell us how you are preparing for
things in Venezuela.”

  The three-star general smiled and then proceeded to give them an update on the situation. The American Marines had landed in the south around Guantanamo Bay a few days ago. They’d been able to consolidate their landing zones and started expanding outwards. Some PLA and local militia units were doing their best to harass the Marines and slow their advance. General Song told them about some of the defensive redoubts they had built in a few areas of Cuba. As they fell back across the country, they’d steadily collapse in on these fortified bastions, where they’d make a final stand before being allowed to surrender.

  General Song’s best guess was they’d lose control of the main island by the end of the year, maybe sooner. The Isla de la Juventud garrison was expected to hold out a bit longer. They had really spent a lot of time building up the defenses in the mountains of the island, which overlooked nearly every crevasse of the place. The airfield there was still operational most days, and they still had more than a few dozen fighters able to carry out operations. The fighters had mostly been relegated to carrying out quick hit-and-run attacks against American helicopters, or the low and slow-flying ground-attack fighters, or cargo planes. While the attacks were of zero strategic value in the battle over the island, they were inflicting losses on aircraft that wouldn’t be available to fight against the PLA in later campaigns.

  Venezuela, however, was a completely different animal. Miraculously, they were still getting large numbers of supply ships through to the ports. They’d managed to build up a stockpile of nearly twenty thousand surface-to-air missiles and medium-range ballistic missiles for their TEL launchers. Munitions were another major thing they’d worked to stockpile. As to aircraft, the PLA had had more time to disperse their air units into dozens of smaller airstrips built in the jungle. The Americans would find wresting control of the skies over South America a lot more difficult than Cuba.