Jack went through first and looked longingly at the column that stood majestically in place. If only he hadn’t…
The column swung almost on cue and a woman in full Marine dress appeared with a pistol at the ready, Frank spotted her first and if it hadn’t been for Jack shouting “No!!!” he would have shot her.
“Room for one more,” she said, throwing an apologetic look at Frank.
“Go, Frank,” commanded Jack, beginning to barricade the last door between them and the Chinese.
Frank looked at him like he was a madman. “Mr. President, you have to get out of here, our nation needs you to get in that thing.” He looked at it. “Whatever the hell it is!”
“I’m the captain of this godamned boat and I’ll be last off or I’ll go down with it!”
Swanson jumped out of the lift. “Look, both of you go, I’ll wait here!”
The one slight problem and reason she had been sent was that two large men wouldn’t fit. She and Butler had tried below and realized just how tight it was. Two men weren’t going to make it in one journey, but somebody needed to bring it up. Butler had, after a great deal of argument, acceded to her logic. At least this way, they both had a chance of making it. She had also pointed out that she was a very good shot as well.
Frank refused to move. Jack put the pistol to his own head. “Frank, you’re not sacrificing yourself for me.” Frank put his own gun to his head. “If you do that, I’m definitely not leaving here!” promised Jack.
“For the love of God, will you just get in the fucking capsule!” screamed Swanson. The gunshots were beginning to ping through the door.
Frank conceded and jumped inside. Swanson quite literally climbed into him, and hit the down lever.
“I can’t believe I left him behind,” said Frank.
“He’s a soldier, he’s not going to let you take his bullet. Get over it and let’s hope we’re quick enough.”
When they reached the bottom, Butler helped them out of the capsule and before she had a chance to explain, Swanson was on her way back up despite Butler’s protests.
“Stubborn bitch!” he screamed before turning to Frank. “Who the hell are you?”
“Frank Fleming, Secret Serv--”
“Ah shit,” replied Butler.
“What?” asked Frank.
“Well if you’re here, the president’s dead.”
Frank shook his head, embarrassed. “No, much like your girlfriend, he’s a stubborn son of a bitch, and he was going to kill himself if I didn’t go first.”
Butler nodded his head knowingly. He’d had a similar argument with Swanson. The only difference being that
she
was going to shoot
him
if he hadn’t let her go.
When the door to the study finally gave way, Jack shot the first two Chinese soldiers who came through. When Kenneth threatened to kill the Navy officer if Jack didn’t surrender, he stopped shooting.
Two Chinese soldiers entered the study and covered Jack, who had lowered his pistol. Kenneth was given the all clear and entered, a smile across his face.
“Now drop the gun, Jack. It’s over,” said Kenneth as the two soldiers held their guns ready to shoot Jack if he moved.
“Tell me one thing,” demanded Jack. “The governor of Wyoming, the presidential candidate I replaced, real or murdered?”
“What can I say, Jack? He heard me on the phone one night and put two and two together,” replied Kenneth smugly. “We just needed someone in power and you were a shoe-in.”
Jack heard the slight clunk as the capsule arrived and the column began to spin. One of the soldiers’ eyes were drawn to it, but the other’s stayed firmly on Jack. Not what he needed.
Swanson had herself prepared as the column began to spin. The first target was looking straight at her but his gun was still pointing at Jack. The second target was looking directly at Jack but was behind him, so she didn’t have a shot. She took it anyway and threw herself to the floor to avoid the original target’s return fire.
Jack’s head jerked as the bullet rushed past him and embedded itself in the face of the Chinese soldier in front of him. Jack spun round, defying his age, and shot the soldier facing the column who was about to shoot Swanson.
On spotting Swanson, Kenneth had immediately sensed the tables were about to turn and with his two guards down, he rushed out of the room. Jack jumped into the capsule and, like Frank before, put his arms out for Swanson to cuddle in. Jack didn’t miss Kenneth’s cowardly run as he bolted from the room screaming in Chinese for help. Neither did the bullet that Jack sent chasing after him. From his cuddling stance, it was one of the best and most satisfying shots of his life. However, it was a pyrrhic victory, given that he had just lost the White House and possibly the entire nation. But seeing Kenneth’s head crack open like a watermelon as the 9mm round hit center skull was a very satisfying sight. The column spun round and began its descent, bullets pinging into the metal capsule before it had lowered itself out of range.
“Mr. President, you’ve been hit?” said Swanson, noting the blood running down the side of Jack’s head.
“It’s nothing, just a scratch.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was the one who had shot him.
When they reached the bottom, an unbelievably relieved Frank rushed forward to attend to the president while Butler wasted no time. “It’s not the Russians, Mr. President, it’s the Chinese!”
Jack nodded. “And the Trust.
Beware the trust!
” he added deliberately for Butler.
Throughout his short journey to the battlefront, Admiral Keeler had tried every conceivable option to try and get hold of somebody back at base. He had even resorted to stopping and using a payphone to call Raven Rock and the Secretary of Defense. Nothing. Every number he tried, it was the same, a dead line. He tried everyone he could think of across the United States. It was the same, all the lines were dead.
Oh my God
, he thought.
They’ve done it, a nuclear holocaust
. He jumped back into his jeep and had his driver drive as fast as he could to the nearest group of US forces.
He jumped out long before the jeep stopped and ran to the nearest tank that was sitting immobile.
“Any ideas?” he shouted at the engineer that was desperately working on the tank.
The engineer snapped to attention on seeing the admiral’s uniform.
“Sir, mechanically she’s sound as the day she was built. Electronically, if you don’t mind sir, she’s utterly fucked,” relayed the engineer. The admiral was well known amongst the men as a straight talker.
“Less technically?”
“She’s a very well armored car. Her gun turret won’t turn, her targeting system doesn’t work, her loaders won’t load and even if they did, the gun won’t shoot.”
“Some type of EMP weapon?” he asked, desperately trying to understand what had happened. Electromagnetic pulse weapons could disable all electronic devices within their range. It would explain the reason behind everything the engineer had described and hopefully why all communications and phone lines were dead.
“No, sir, the Brits, Germans and French, from what we can tell, have been totally unaffected. All their systems are working perfectly, so it can’t have been an EMP.”
“I watched a flight of F-22s just flip over and dive into the ground. Could this be the reason?”
The engineer nodded. “Probably. I remember something about the newest jets receiving thousands of corrections a second to keep them stable. Without computers, they’d do exactly what you witnessed.”
Admiral Keeler ran back to his jeep and instructed his driver to get him to the nearest allied forces. Five minutes later, he was talking to the commander of a group of UK Challenger tanks, who confirmed their electronics were fine.
“Sir, we’ve got to get in there,” said the British commander, motioning to the front, a couple of miles ahead. The incessant sounds of explosions were echoing across the landscape. “Your guys have just stopped shooting. They’re maneuvering wildly around the battlefield, desperately trying not to get shot. All our reserve forces have been ordered in to lay down some covering fire so they can retreat.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Keeler.
“Not gonna happen, sir, with all due respect. I’d have to replace one of my men to let you in and your guys need every ounce of help they can get,” replied the commander, effectively disobeying a direct order form the Supreme Commander of the allied forces. Keeler couldn’t have been prouder of the man. He clapped him on the back and rushed back to his jeep. The balance of power had shifted badly. Without US power, the Allies would be overrun in hours. He needed to do something, otherwise there was going to be another Russian steamroller, only this time it wouldn’t be the Nazis they’d be wiping out, it would be the US and her allies.
He instructed his driver to head back to the control center, and when they headed off, they were met by a mass of US tanks charging towards them and the battle front. Their turrets were spinning as they tracked targets way ahead of the actual range of their guns. Keeler stood and waved for one of them to stop.
The commander of the tank instructed his crew to stop.
“Sir?”
“You got them working?” he shouted up to the commander, thanking God something was going right for them.
“Never stopped, sir. We were sitting back in reserve and the Brits started asking us what the hell was happening. Their radios were full of chatter about our guys not being able to shoot. Anyway, we tried to get a hold of anyone for orders, couldn’t get anyone and thought we’d better get our asses in there, sir.”
“Well don’t let me hold you up. How many are you?”
“A few hundred Abrams, Admiral, and the same in Bradleys I think”
“Are these the storage tanks from Camp Darby?” asked the admiral in sudden realization.
“I believe so. We flew in yesterday from the States and were allocated these tanks. They’re a little different than what we’re used to, so maybe.”
“Good luck!” called the admiral.
“It’s the Russians that need that, sir, we’ve got God on our side. God bless America!” the soldier shouted and waved his tank onward.
Keeler raced back to his mobile command center. It was still dead. Technicians were picking the systems apart but it was useless. The Camp Darby tanks would help hold the line for a little while longer but without the main force, it too was useless. He ordered the command center to move back, while he went in search of his allied commanders to try and do what they could with the limited forces at their disposal.
With word coming through that the Americans had initiated an offensive against the Russian forces in Western Europe in retaliation for the attack on Pearl Harbor, President Junpeng stood to address his senior cabinet and generals.
“Gentlemen, comrades, today we have taken a bold and courageous step that will once again see the Chinese nation as the greatest on the planet…”
For the next half hour, he described how his plan had outwitted and defeated the world’s other super powers. The Americans were leaderless and powerless, with their army defeated without a shot being fired. Their desperation to be better, faster and greater than all others had been their ultimate downfall. The Chinese, through the Trust - President Junpeng’s brilliant idea - had given them exactly what they wanted. The most advanced and effective forces in the world. However, they were all controlled by computers and electronics, and could be switched off in the blink of an eye. A switch that the Trust, America’s most trusted partner, America’s savior, had controlled. Which of course was China. The world’s satellites that would allow the Americans or their allies any opportunity of communication or view of America were being obliterated by China’s SC-19 satellite killing missiles. America was under their complete and total control.
A number of standing ovations for his brilliance interrupted his speech to them, all very warmly received.
The Russians were at the mercy of the NATO forces which, without the power of the Americans, would struggle to contain them. However, the damage to their might would be such that the Chinese would be able to walk through their defenses and seize control of a nation which had never truly been comfortable with the capitalism that the leading classes had forced upon them. The people of Russia would welcome their Communist brothers and sisters with open arms. The Chinese forces were tearing across Kazakhstan on their race to Moscow. With the scale of the planned invasion, they would wipe all before them with ease.
The Americans would be more difficult but the people were already in panic, he explained. With no news of why their world had literally ceased to exist and for the first time in their lives feeling true hardship, they would welcome a return to some type of normality in the future, such was the control that the Trust had built into the critical infrastructure of the nation under their watchful eye, he laughed. They had complete and utter control of the country’s power and utilities, switching them off and on at will. They would control the people, a people who were lazy for the easy way of life. A life that only they could offer them, thanks to the genius of the Trust. A few weeks of darkness and having to fend for themselves would destroy American society as people knew it.