by W. R. Benton
“Can't you search by estimated age, description and so on? I think that would cut your search time down a great deal.”
“He stated the other man was called The Boss, was between 40 and 60, overweight, and had a rather cold personality, only speaking when needed. Both agents disappeared at the same time, when we raided the Black Widow's home.”
“Do you have any idea where they are?”
“None, sir. It's as if they vanished into thin air.”
“Well, General, you've certainly made my day and evening. Is there anything else?”
“Just this, sir; tomorrow morning I'm sure the news media will be showing the protest footage from tonight. It will make us, of course, look like we used a nuke to kill a spider, but in reality most of the demonstrators had guns. Some of them had grenades as well as guns, and mix those weapons with some man launched SAMs, RPGs, flamethrowers, machine-guns, and other munitions, and you have an idea of what we faced tonight. They were poorly organized and I allowed the media to see the action, so others thinking of rising up against us will see how we deal with those who break our laws. We were forced to kill over two thousand of them, took three hundred prisoners, and we lost 300 killed, with over 50 wounded. I honestly don't expect a problem this evening.”
“Well done, General Adams, and I appreciate your call.”
“Good night, sir.”
The line went dead, so the President placed the receiver back in the cradle, and was unaware he was smiling. I don't like all the deaths and I'm sure the UN will protest our use of force, calling it excessive, but showing it on television may be a good deterrent measure to take. As for the UN, hell, I'm already fighting them, so what they think isn't important, he thought as he moved slowly for the bedroom.
James and Gator approached the camp that had been attacked, and could smell death before they saw the place. The attackers were long gone, and Gator had moved in close enough to see the men board helicopters marked with United States flags on the sides. Ten men had been dropped off and ten men left. While the men were on the ground shots were heard, and the old man thought they were finishing off the wounded.
James looked at Gator and motioned the man forward. While they thought all of the bad guys were gone, they had no real idea if they were gone or not. They'd take no chances, and cover their asses as they checked the place out.
Moving slowly to where the campfire had burned the night before, he spotted three bodies right off. He spotted two dead men and a woman. All three were torn to pieces, and he only knew one was a woman by her bloody exposed breast. He turned and waved James into camp.
“Touch nothing without looking for booby traps. Let's look the rest of the area over and then get the hell out of here. Be sure to remove anything we might have a use for, including guns, ammo or equipment.”
“I hear you.” Gator said, and then moved toward the shelters. He spotted a few more dead women near the shelters, with most of them shot. Four dead kids lay in a lean-to, and each had been shot once in the head. He shook his head at the senseless murders and moved on. So far he'd not spotted a single man and there were no weapons to be seen.
“Gator, over here!” James said, his voice urgent.
He neared the man and asked, “What do you have?”
“Two shot, one seriously, but I think the other will survive.”
Gator looked the injured over and said, “The man on the left won't make it; gutshot. The other one looks to have taken a round in the shoulder and while it looks bad, he'll live.”
“Get away from them, and now!” an unknown voice ordered, and the tone was threatening.
Both men were leaning over, so they straightened up, and then James asked, “Who are you, woman?”
“I'm the wife of the gutshot man. He's gonna die, because I heard you two speaking.” When James looked at her, he saw she was holding an old single shot 12 gauge shotgun on them.
“How about pointing the barrel of that gun away from us? We're no threat to you and will do what we can for your husband. Gator, fetch the Jeep and come for these two wounded. Lady, are there any other survivors?”
“N . . . no, none. Over fifteen of us were killed last night, and I was shocked when they killed the kids too.” she replied, and the barrel of the gun moved away. Gator immediately left for the Jeep.
“If you're looking for answers from me, I have none. What's your name, and the name of the injured?”
“I'm Mary Ann Davis. My husband is Thomas and the other man is Henry Hamblin.”
“Let's wrap both men up to prevent blood loss and see if we can keep them alive long enough for my medical woman to look 'em over. I honestly don't think Henry will survive.”
“How did you find us?”
“We're not far away from you, and Gator, the older man who returned for the Jeep, knew all about your group. He was close enough last night to identify your attackers as the United States.”
“The sumbitches attacked us without warning. I was in the woods looking for firewood when rockets or something struck the camp. Mister, it was a pure living hell here for a few minutes.”
“My name is James, and we heard the attack when it took place.” He began to work on her husband first, suspecting if Henry bled to death he'd die better than waiting for his wound to kill him.
Twenty minutes later Gator arrived in the Jeep with Nancy.
She looked both men over closely and said, “The shoulder wound will be fine with rest, but there is little I can do for a gutshot man. He needs surgery, and we don't have all we need to help him. I'm afraid he'll die and we can't stop it, either.”
“Let's get these people back to camp. Once there, I want us to make sure we have everything and then leave. If the attackers return, they're sure to see the tracks of the Jeep and all they have to do is follow them.”
“I need some time to help these two men.”
“Nancy, I've wrapped Tom and he'll live. I want nothing done for Henry, except you can give him some morphine for his pain. I don't mean to be ugly or hard, but he'll die anyway, and you've said as much.”
“I understand, but I don't like this.” Nancy said as she met his eyes.
“Like it or not, I call the shots around here and you'll do as asked. Now, give the man some morphine for his pain, because he's starting to move around now and may wake up.”
Nancy gave a loud sigh and said, “You're a real sonofabitch, do you know that?”
James gave a dry chuckle and said, “Don't say it unless you mean it. Look I have everyone in the group to consider, not just when they're hurt, but all the time. I will not now or ever, put the whole group in danger for the life of a single person. The group's survival will always come first, even if I'm the one dying.”
A three star General walked around with a pointer in his hand as he spoke. “Sir, the first wave of our attack will wade ashore in Southern California, right here near San Diego, and then one hour later, a second wave of men will land just ten miles south of the Washington state border. Half our resources from the ships will be sent to each landing zone. Now, before I turn you over to the Air Force, who will brief you on their mission during the invasion, I want to remind you that a third invasion point will be made almost mid state of California, but from the east.
Six hours prior to any landing by us, the 101st and the 82nd airborne will be dropped in forward positions of the three invasion points you see on the map. Their job is to create havoc with the UN troops and disrupt their communications, destroy POL storage areas, cut power, and perhaps scare them more than just a little. I suspect we'll catch them completely off guard. I also suspect General Edwards, my counter part, will be confused the first 12 hours by our movements, and he'll wonder where our real invasion point is located.”
The President thought for a second and then asked, “What do you know of this General Edwards, Frank?”
“I was at West Point with the man, but he was a class ahead of me. He's an intelligent man, graduating secon
d out of 1,193, which says a great deal about him. He presents a clean image in uniform because he's in excellent physical shape, and I've never met a more intelligent man in my life. We were stationed together at Fort Bragg for four years, and I don't think he'll act on any invasion point until he determines where the biggest threat is located. He's not one to panic, but many local commanders will, and that's what I'm hoping for. Edwards is a serious threat, very serious, and he is the overall military commander of the United States Army and it's chief of staff.”
“Okay, now Air Force, it's your turn.” the President said with a smile. He was glad to be on a serious offensive and not just bombing the White House.
“At 0001 hours, my modified choppers will drop off the Army's special operations men and they will carry out a number of tasks, which will be briefed at a later date and time after they happen. At 0100 hours, my transport aircraft will start dropping airborne troops and I'll have every flyable aircraft in the air to support the drop. I'll have fighter cover for the transport aircraft, as well as bombing of major cities in the state. The bombing will start precisely at 0045 and I hope to draw attention from the drop. I dislike bombing civilians but this is war, and I suspect it's our turn to play General Sherman. For those of you who have never heard of General Sherman, he was a Yankee in the war of Northern Aggression that burned his way through the southern states, looting and killing as he moved. He completely destroyed Atlanta, Georgia and other towns and cities. Those women and children in his path that his men didn't kill had a lean winter once he was gone. Countless folks starved to death because of his murderous raid. Learn of and from him, because I have. We will continue bombing the major cities every day until we run out of bombs or the war is over. I plan to hit them 24/7 and with all I have at my disposal, too.”
“Is that it, General?”
“Uh, yes, sir.” The Air Force General took his seat.
“Navy, are you and the Marines ready to do this?”
“Sir,” the Admiral said as he stood, “if it floats, it will carry troops on the day of the invasion. I have my Marines ready, and they will make up the first few waves of men going ashore. They will be followed by the Army. Our assault will, hopefully, be fast and overpowering. Our intelligence reports little threat to us at either of the two areas we plan to land. However, I must say we're concerned about the enemy bottling us up on the beach and then wiping us out, but that's the risks of this business. At 0020 hours on the day of the invasion, I will have a number of Seal Teams taken to just off shore of the landing points. They will be transported by submarines and will depart the subs as they lay underwater. They will swim ashore and check for resistance, and then radio us with the words 'Prime Time Television.' At that point, we're committed. I will also have anything that flies and belongs to the Navy in the air before the first man steps on the beach.”
“Now, we seem prepared, but I want to know from my medical staff if we're prepared for massive casualties from this invasion? Do you have what you need to care for our wounded and dead?”
“My folks will be placed on alert the night before the invasion, brought to their bases and posts, and from there they will stand by awaiting casualties. I have enough staff to support a 40% casualty figure for those invading the state.”
“Good God, let's hope our rate is much less than that.”
“My calculations are closer to 10% of those landing being injured or killed.” the Navy man said.
“Does anyone else have anything to add to this meeting?” the President asked as he looked the small group over.
“Let's hope the weather goes as I predicted, sir.” the Air Force weatherman said with a smile.
“I think all of us want the weather to be good three days from now, Major. Gentlemen, if that's all, Father O'Brien, will you close this briefing with a prayer?”
“Certainly, sir. But, first I would like to remind everyone this meeting is classified Top Secret, based on a need-to-know basis. What you heard in this room, let it stay in this room. Now, shall we all bow our heads?”
The President grinned at the security reminder by the priest.
General Adams was in stand up, his morning briefing by his staff, when his chief of Military Police said, “While there were no protests last night, there were some acts of sabotage that took place.”
“Oh? And, how much damage was done?”
“Very little actually, but it shows our protesters may have a new line of work. They hit a power plant near midnight, knocking out power for roughly 50,000 homes.”
“How was this accomplished, or do we know yet?”
“RPGs were fired into the fenced-in areas. A number of transformers were destroyed and when repair teams arrived, they were fired upon by an unknown group. We, my staff and I, think the protesters have become partisans.”
“Our casualties?”
“One killed and three wounded, lightly. My question is, sir, how are we to treat the partisans we capture in the future?”
“Partisans do not wear uniforms and they often spy as they destroy property or ambush folks. As members of the resistance, they have no legal coverage in the Geneva Convention. There is only one way, gentlemen, to deal with spies, death. I expect no partisan prisoners, unless you catch a big fish or one that obviously knows something. Most are to be killed in the field and on the spot. Now, those brought back for questioning will be hanged as soon as they tell us what we need to know.”
“That's just plain murder, sir.” the Chaplin protested.
“I disagree,” General Adams said, “because they are not wearing uniforms and will be living among us, so to speak. Who will we be able to trust? Can we trust the civilian in line with us at the grocery store? The teller at our bank? No, all partisans are to be killed on the spot by my order. I'll have no mercy on those that hide behind their civilian clothing.”
“My suggestion is that we position guards at vulnerable areas and equip them with radios. Now, the guards will be susceptible to attack, but it's the only way I know to prevent it.”
“I'd suggest at power plants, nuke facilities, POL storage areas and so on, we position a tank at night. I want the crews awake too, and not buttoned up and sleeping.” the President said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Also,” a Colonel in Operations said, “we had six unidentified aircraft blips on the radar screens for a few minutes last night. We suspect they flew low, blending in with the ground clutter, and at some point dropped supplies or personnel to an unknown group. They later appeared again, but were moving away from Chicago and returning northeast, away from us.”
“From now on, I want a squadron of fighter aircraft on standby during hours of darkness. I want them based at the Chicago O'Hare International Airport, and I want them there today. They are to take what buildings and hangers they need to do their mission, which is keeping the air space over and around the city clean of enemy aircraft.”
“I'll see it done today, sir.” a Full Colonel representing the Air Force said.
“I want them in place and ready to fly by no later than 1900 hours. I suggest, very strongly, that you leave the meeting now, Colonel, and see this is done. I will accept absolutely no excuses for them not to be there tonight.”
The Colonel stood and said, “They'll be in place. Now, if you'll excuse me, sir.”
“Go. Now, my chief of Military Police, I want roadblocks established and troops on the prowl at night looking for partisans. I want an invisible wall placed around this city where very little gets in or out without our knowledge.”
Chapter 19
Three days later, the President of the United States was in his hospital room recovering from injuries sustained when the suicide bomber exploded. His pain level was low now, but his whole body felt bruised and achy. He'd been unable to attend his wife's funeral, but he'd watched it on the television in his room. Since it was a national event, cameras had also been in his room, showing his tears and grief to the whole world. He was alone
now, and it was the first time since college.
Suddenly the door opened and three General officers entered.
“Well, gentlemen, what is the purpose of your surprise visit?” the President asked, smiling.
“Sir,” General Edwards said, “we are being invaded.”
“You're joking, right?”
“No, sir, not in the least. I have a map with me,” he said as he pulled it from his coat pocket and spread it on the bed for the President, “and I show three invasion points, but have no idea which is the main spearhead at this time.”
“Sir, I'm General Smith, and the CSA air forces are now bombing most major cities. Last night they started with San Francisco, San Diego, and Los Angeles. We have an unknown number of civilian deaths, but they are high. It looks as if President Grant is turning this war into a total war now.”
“What else is going on? I mean, I'm on pain killers, so I need you, General Edwards, to brief me, and now.”
“We have not only CSA troops on the beaches, but moving cross the country as I speak. As of 1600 hours today they were almost 100 miles inland. Our intelligence folks say it will take approximately two more days for them to have all their troops in the state and moving against us. We suspect army special forces have destroyed many of our POL storage areas and electrical power plants. We currently have power outages, but have no idea if the stations were hit or it's the result of bombing. We've numerous fires currently burning at POL storage areas.”
The President pushed the button near his bed to summons the nurse. As soon as she stuck her head in the door, he yelled, “Get my clothes! I need to get out of here.”
“Yes, sir, but I suggest you wait one more day.”
“I suggest you move your ass, woman, and find my clothes! We're being invaded, by God, and they'll not find me inactive! General Edwards, I want to meet with the Joint Chiefs of Staff in two hours.”