Peacekeepers

by James Rosone

  Peacekeepers

  Book Two of the Falling Empires Series

  By

  James Rosone and Miranda Watson

  Disclaimer

  This is a fictional story. All characters in this book are imagined, and any opinions that they express are simply that, fictional thoughts of literary characters. Although policies mentioned in the book may be similar to reality, they are by no means a factual representation of the news. Please enjoy this work as it is, a story to escape the part of life that can sometimes weigh us down in mundaneness or busyness.

  Copyright Information

  ©2019, James Rosone and Miranda Watson, in conjunction with Front Line Publishing, Inc. Except as provided by the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: O Canada

  Chapter 2: Humpty Dumpty

  Chapter 3: A Thief in the Night

  Chapter 4: A Nation Divided

  Chapter 5: Operation Spark

  Chapter 6: Southern Front

  Chapter 7: Bishop for a Pawn

  Chapter 8: Escalation

  Chapter 9: Thucydides's Trap

  Chapter 10: Paukenschlag

  Chapter 11: First Strike

  Chapter 12: Man Down

  Chapter 13: Occupation

  Chapter 14: Operation Payback

  Chapter 15: Stunned

  Chapter 16: Partisans

  Chapter 17: Desperate Plea

  From the Authors

  For the Veterans

  Abbreviation Key

  Chapter 1

  O Canada

  December 1, 2020

  Ottawa, Canada

  Lord Elgin Hotel

  Grill 41

  Newly promoted Brigadier General Ryan Jackman sat across the table from the governor of New York, Tim Shank. Jackman had a broad smile on his face and optimism in his heart as he admired the small box that contained two silver stars, the rank insignia he had just accepted. He would now be the combat commander to lead the recently established New York Civil Defense Force, or NY CDF.

  Jackman tried not to think about what he had given up for those shiny stars. This move had cost him his position in the New York Army National Guard as Commander of the 1st Battalion, 69th Infantry Regiment, along with any loyalty he had previously held to the Pentagon under the command of President Sachs.

  Governor Shank returned Jackman’s smile. “Congratulations, Ryan, you’re officially a general. How does it feel?” he asked.

  “I’ve never been happier or prouder in my life than I am right now, Governor,” General Jackman replied, with a voice that seemed to feign confidence more than demonstrate it. “My only wish is that I could have persuaded more of my soldiers to cross over with me,” he said.

  Shank shrugged off the comment. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, General. The fact that you were able to help convince more than thirty percent of the state National Guard to mobilize and stay true to their state is a testament to your leadership.”

  The governor paused for a second as he leaned in and fixed the new general with a steely gaze. “We’re in for some tough times ahead of us. It’s obvious we’re heading for a civil war, one that’s been brewing for decades. After this meeting, you’re going to be a fugitive, a hunted man just like me. There won’t be any going back once you take this position. If you want to back out, I’ll understand, but once you’re in, you’re in until we either win or lose. Is that understood?”

  Jackman was a bit taken aback by the governor’s bluntness. He paused to reflect on his options.

  Heck, most of the state elected officials have already fled across the border to Canada, he thought. Several Democratic governors had done the same. General Jackman concluded that if these politicians could stand up to President Sachs, then so could he.

  Returning Shank’s unrelenting stare, Jackman replied, “This is my country too, Governor. We’re going to win this fight.”

  Governor Shank let out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed his shoulders. “So, what do you propose we do next now that you’re in charge of the state’s militia?” he asked.

  Jackman’s mind spun. He smiled as he dreamed of ideas of how they would bring the Sachs administration to heel, or at least keep them out of New York state.

  *******

  December 5, 2020

  Ottawa, Canada

  Lord Elgin Hotel

  General Guy McKenzie brushed the snow off his overcoat and handed it to one of the bellhops, who looked a bit royal in his black pants and red jacket with black and golden trim. The man added it to the cart with McKenzie’s belongings and waited for instructions about where to take it.

  McKenzie looked the lobby over with a critical eye. The dark wood panel columns gave the location a very rich appearance, but the bright tile on the floor with ornate patterns along the side made the hotel seem warm and inviting.

  This will do, he thought.

  When it had become clear President-Elect Tate would need to set up his transition government in Canada, his campaign had worked with the Canadian government and the United Nations to secure and rent out all 355 rooms and suites at the Lord Elgin Hotel. The hotel sat conveniently just down the road from the Canadian parliament building. It was large enough to accommodate the people who would be critical to Tate’s government, and it had enough conference rooms that could be quickly turned into briefing rooms when needed.

  While General Guy McKenzie was assessing the hotel’s general appearance, he promptly noticed the visible presence of a sea of private security contractors. The guards appeared to be part of the Senaca Group, an Irish-based security firm that provides private security in hostile nations and caters to the protective detail needs of world dignitaries. They also had a paramilitary branch that handled the more difficult, dirty jobs often associated with the Middle East and Africa.

  After passing through security, McKenzie was escorted to the elevator bank and shown to the floor and room where the newly elected American President would be staying. The security guard knocked on the door twice, then stepped back and made his way to the elevator, leaving McKenzie to the charge of the other security guards on the floor.

  *******

  Marshall Tate heard the double knock on the door and got up from the chair where he had been waiting. He opened the door, smiling broadly.

  “President-Elect Tate, it’s good to see you again,” said General Guy McKenzie warmly. The two shook hands. “I was told you needed to see me in person,” he remarked in a lower voice.

  Tate nodded, doing his best to maintain a solid poker face. “I did, General. Please, come on in. Let’s walk back to the sitting room, where the others are.”

  McKenzie nodded and followed him inside.

  “I hope you don’t mind us meeting in here,” Tate said apologetically. “It’s more private and away from prying eyes. I’m still not one hundred percent sure how loyal everyone is that’s come over to our side, so I’m trying to minimize who all is involved in some of the critical decisions that still need to be made in the coming weeks.”

  “I can appreciate the secrecy,” General McKenzie replied. “I don’t envy your position, and I know this has to be a terribly hard situation for you and your family.”

  Tate nodded. “It has been incredibly difficult for my wife and children, but at least the kids are grown and on their own. I’m confident we’ll get through it, especially with men like you and others to help guide us.”

  After walking through the galley kitchen in the suite, they made their way into the sitting room. For privacy reasons, Marsh
all had the curtains blocking the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that would normally give anyone sitting in this room a spectacular view of the city.

  Waiting for them on the steel-gray couches were Retired Admiral David Hill, who was going to be Tate’s Secretary of Defense, and Page Larson, who was going to become his National Security Advisor. Page had previously been a senior figure at the CIA. She’d quit her post at the Agency once she’d been named the President-Elect’s NSA. Both she and Hill brought a wealth of defense and intelligence experience to his national security team, something they’d need in the coming days.

  “Ah, I see you have your military advisors here,” McKenzie remarked. He made his way over and shook their hands, exchanging the usual pleasantries.

  Tate waited for a moment, then cleared his throat. “General, what we need to talk about next is a military question. I’ll be frank, McKenzie, I’m not a military man, and I don’t understand the intricacies of our present situation.” He paused for a moment as if searching for the right words to say. “I never wanted to be in this position. However, we’re here now, and we have to deal with it. I truly thought President Sachs would step down once he saw the UN and many other world leaders side with us. I had hoped he would see reason and agree to just retire, but I fear he’s only digging in.”

  He motioned toward his new NSA. “Page told me that some of her former colleagues at the CIA informed her that Sachs is preparing the country for war. She said the intelligence apparatus of our country is being turned loose on the countries that are allying against him and he’s ordered the Pentagon to begin preparations to implement a military blockade of Canada. He’s also preparing the military to meet our forces head-on if necessary.”

  Tate sighed involuntarily. He couldn’t completely conceal that he was having second thoughts about all of this. “I believe our country is headed toward a nasty civil war,” he stated solemnly. “I’m not sure what can be done to stop it. If we do have to fight, I also don’t know how we win. If Sachs does use military force, it seems that the majority of the United States military will side with him—I’m not sure your UN force is going to be much of a match. At least that’s what Dave here thinks,” he said, motioning toward Admiral Hill.

  General McKenzie grimaced. He’d been hearing some similar information but was not fully aware of the situation inside the American Pentagon. He turned to face Admiral Hill and Page Larson. “If you had to put a number to it, what percentage of the military do you believe is going to remain loyal to Sachs?” he asked.

  Retired Admiral David Hill leaned in. “I still have ears on the ground in D.C., and things don’t look good, that’s for sure. The SecDef and the cabinet have rightly shown that this election was a fraud. While many people in the government and the military may not like or agree with Sachs and his policies, they are dead set against replacing him in this fashion. We’re going to get probably close to twenty to twenty-five percent of people who’ll cross over, but that’s largely the core group of people who have openly expressed disdain for Sachs and want to see the country remade according to the vision President-Elect Tate has put forward.”

  McKenzie crossed his arms. “Look, I can respect that many people in your country dislike Sachs, but if these people are crossing over simply because of this personal distaste, even though they agree the election was likely a farce, how can we trust them or know that their loyalties are going to be with our cause?” he countered.

  “Does it really matter, General?” asked Page. “At the end of the day, whether this election was legitimate or not, people are using it as a means of getting rid of Sachs. And frankly, that’s all that really matters.”

  Marshall Tate shot her a mortified look and held up a hand. “Do you really believe the election was a complete farce?” he asked. “You believe what Sachs and his cronies have been saying about it being rigged is true? Isn’t there even a slight chance that I actually did win legitimately?”

  She tilted her head to the side. Her expression registered a mix of surprise and pity. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. President-Elect, but did you really think you won this election on your own?” she asked. Page shook her head dismissively. “Of course it was a sham. You honestly think all those things happening the last six weeks of the campaign were coincidence? It was a well-engineered coup d’état to get rid of that bloviating buffoon. And it worked—or it should have worked. He wasn’t supposed to find out about the postal workers who’d been handing over absentee and mail-in ballots, and we certainly didn’t think he’d try and challenge the election results like he did or impose martial law. He was supposed to just take it on the chin and retire to enjoy his billions.”

  Tate sat there in stunned silence for a moment, taking in what Page had just said. While he knew a lot of powerful groups and people had been working to help him defeat Sachs, he’d legitimately believed he’d won. He’d truly felt Sachs had been making all of this up as a means not to give up power. Her words were like a blow to the gut.

  What have I done? he thought, staring blankly back at Page.

  “You truly didn’t know?” she asked incredulously.

  Tate slowly shook his head. “I knew some of the details, but I was told it was best if I didn’t ask questions.”

  “That figures,” Page remarked. “I’m sorry they kept you in the dark, Marshall. I truly am. I wasn’t involved in the plan from the beginning. Heck, I was only made aware of most of it in the last year of the campaign, and really only got seriously involved once things started to fall apart. At that point, there wasn’t much I could do to help right it other than to keep tabs on what the administration knew and what they were doing.

  “Regardless, Sachs had to be replaced, and the powers that be couldn’t take a chance on a second electoral upset. Change had to happen, and it has. You just need to continue to take charge of things. There are more pieces of the puzzle being moved into position.”

  General McKenzie grinned. “Wow, you had me fooled. I thought you were aware of what was going on, Mr. President-Elect,” he remarked before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s OK. As Page said, a lot of pieces are in motion now. It’ll work out in the end; you just need to stick to your position and continue to lead the country, or at least the parts that are loyal to you.”

  Turning back to face the admiral, McKenzie said, “You believe that a lot of the active-duty military appears to be siding with Sachs. What about the portions that are going to flip? Do you know who they are? You know, what units or commands do they control and what equipment will cross over with them?”

  Retired Admiral Hill lifted his chin up. “I’ve spoken secretly with Rear Admiral Harold Ward, the commander for Carrier Strike Group 11. They’re still finalizing some maintenance issues at the Bremerton Naval Facility before they move back to Naval Station Everett just north of Seattle. He told me the captain of the USS Nimitz and at least twenty percent of his officers and enlisted personnel will side with us. He’s not sure yet how many other vessel captains will join him, but he’s hoping he can convince at least some of them to cross over before they set sail to enforce Sachs’s blockade.”

  McKenzie’s right eyebrow rose in surprise. “You mean the captain of a supercarrier may join us?” he asked incredulously.

  Smiling, Hill nodded. “Well, we have a few diversions that are going to be created to help with flushing the ships out of port before they’re fully crewed. If the full crew were already on board, there’d be no way they could pull it off. The admiral’s goal is to remove the ship from being used against us. We obviously can’t crew it, and the ship won’t have its airwing, so it’s not like we can use it in any sort of military sense. However, removing the ship from being a part of a blockade or military function that could have been used against us will be a huge political win for our side. It’ll help to show the public that even the military isn’t falling in line with that dictator.”

  McKenzie sported a devilish smile, which suddenly turned sour. “If S
achs moves forward with this blockade, we could be in trouble. Will the current naval officers actually fire on our ships?”

  Hill scratched his chin before he responded. “I’m not one hundred percent sure they’ll fire first. I know if they’re fired upon, they won’t hesitate to fire back, but as to whether or not they’ll fire on ships attempting to run the blockade, I don’t know. If they were issued a direct order, I’d say it’s probably fifty-fifty that they would.”

  “OK…what about the Atlantic side?” McKenzie asked.

  Hill nodded. “The captain of the USS Colorado, which is a Virginia-class fast-attack submarine, is going to join our ranks. The captain and I were friends at the Academy many years ago. Like the captain of the Nimitz, his ship is supposed to be a part of the blockade in a few weeks. He’s also going to put to sea in the early hours of the morning with the crew he knows is loyal to our cause.”

  Admiral Hill went on to tell them about a few more ships that might cross over. They wouldn’t know the exact tally for a few more weeks, but he was cautiously optimistic that they might be able to peel away enough forces to convince Sachs that he should step down.

  The more Hill talked about these naval units crossing over, the more Marshall Tate could sense the tension in the room decreasing. McKenzie was visibly more relaxed. “Well, that certainly does make the situation on the naval side seem more palatable,” Tate admitted. “My bigger concern is the situation with the ground and air forces, though. What’s our angle there?”

  General McKenzie nodded. “When Sachs orders some of the Army’s ground combat units or the Marines to head toward the US-Canadian border, how do you propose we handle that?” he asked Admiral Hill. “Are there other Army units that might also cross over?”

  Hill shook his head. “I don’t believe we’ll see any direct units change sides. It’s a lot harder for Army and Marine equipment to change sides en masse than it is a ship. A pilot or two might switch and just fly their fighter across the border, but we aren’t going to see battalions of tanks do that. We’ll probably see a trickle of soldiers start to go AWOL and stop showing up to their home units, but I wouldn’t count on any big chunks of ground equipment.”