Uldis Barznav had to admit, the image on the large wall monitor looked rather nice. The early morning sun bathed Seoul in a soft orange glow. So many tall buildings towered over the enormous city, sunlight glinting off their many glass windows. Absolutely nothing in Latvia could compare to this.

A shame it wouldn't exist much longer.

He tapped the keyboard in front of him, sending out the appropriate signals. Within seconds the image on the screen wobbled.

Thulgira was on the move.

Barznav leaned back in his chair and grinned. Barely 12 hours into the invasion and already Thulgira and the North Koreans were at the outskirts of Seoul.

As though I ever had any doubts. He'd conducted so many tests and trials that he knew when the day came, there would be no problems.

Seoul drew closer, broadcast by the cameras imbedded behind Thulgira's eyes. Another one of Barznav's innovations. He had hoped to have an aerial view of the attack on Seoul, courtesy of an An-24 modified for surveillance duty. But it, and its two escorting MiG-23s, had been shot down just minutes after entering the airspace of the South Korean capital.

Inconvenient, but not too much of a detriment. Spies from the North had hacked into traffic and security cameras all over Seoul, or had planted cameras on top of some of the tallest buildings in the city. It gave him hundreds of vantage points to witness the attack, and all those transmissions were fed into a computer program designed to give them a digital overview of Seoul, and Thulgira's progress through it.

The monster's feet crashed down on rows of apartment buildings and cheap houses as it entered the district, or gu, of Eunpyeong-gu in the northern part of the city. People abandoned their vehicles that clogged the streets. Hundreds, thousands, fled before Thulgira. A couple cameras showed men, women and children pushing and knocking down one another. Very few who fell got up again, trampled by the panicked mob.

Barznav tapped his keyboard again.

Lasers shot from Thulgira's horns. Explosions and flames consumed one neighborhood after another.

Still no sign of the American or South Korean militaries. Would they just let Thulgira smash the capital without a fight? As though any weapons they had could stop him. Perhaps they realized that. Or perhaps they were just too scared of Thulgira after it had routed their forces in the DMZ and in the tank battle north of Seoul.

The image from Thulgira turned to the right. Several black dots, Barznav counted at least thirty, approached the monster. They soon took on more distinct forms.

Helicopters. Of all types. Slender American AH-64 Apaches and South Korean Huey Cobras, and short, bulbous South Korean MD 500 Defenders.

No, apparently they have not learned their lesson.

Orange flashes winked from the helicopters. Fiery contrails streaked over the flame-engulfed buildings of Eunpyeong-gu. Barznav stared impassively at the screen as the missiles slammed into Thulgira.

It did not faze the monster at all.

Barznav sent another signal to Thulgira. It turned toward the helicopters as they launched another salvo of missiles. A laser sliced through the air. Every helicopter the beam touched became like a miniature sun, burning bright and then fading. The surviving ones darted off in all directions. A handful, all South Korean, continued to fly toward Thulgira. Barznav emitted a sardonic laugh. A courageous last stand for their capital. A futile gesture, and ultimately, a fatal one.

Thulgira left Eunpyeong-gu behind, the area transformed into a sea of fire. Barznav transmitted another signal to the monster, sending him southeast, toward Jongno-gu in the heart of Seoul, toward Blue House, the residence of the President of the Republic of Korea.

XXXXX

"I know the streets are packed with people, but you have to funnel them to other streets." General Taylor's grip on the phone tightened as his frustration with the Colonel from the ROK Reserve Forces mounted. How he managed to keep from screaming at the man was beyond him.

Because screaming means you've lost control.

With Thulgira attacking Seoul, he couldn't afford to lose control.

"You do not understand the situation, General. There are hundreds of thousands of vehicles and millions of people on the streets. We must get them to safety."

"I do understand the situation, Colonel. Our systems here are tied in to traffic and security cameras all over Seoul. We also have a Global Hawk orbiting the city. Right now, I'm looking at every major road in Seoul packed to the gills with people and cars. I know you have an impossible situation, but I need you and the National Police to clear a path for our armored forces so they can reach Jongno-gu and Seodaemun-gu and form a defensive line to try and stop this monster." Taylor ran down the streets and highways he needed cleared.

"Sir, if we try to divert people, the other streets and highways will become so crowded it will halt their progress. There will be panic. People will be trampled. They may even fight the authorities. We will have massive civilian deaths."

"We're going to have massive civilian deaths if we don't get those tanks and self-propelled guns up to those gus. I know the risks involved, but we have no choice. Get those streets cleared, Colonel. Now!"

A pause. "Yes, Sir." The Colonel's tone was better suited for a, "Damn you, Sir."

Taylor hung up the phone and looked at the wall monitors lining the CFC's alternate command post at Kunsan Air Base, 150 miles south of Seoul. Within minutes several of the traffic and security cameras picked up police and military reserves trying to halt fleeing civilians and divert them to other streets. Taylor's jaw clenched as he saw hundreds of people push against the authorities. The pushes became punches. Then bottles and rocks and other objects soared through the air at police and reservists. At one highway running through Jung-gu, puffs of smoke belched from M-16s as reservists fired into the crowd. Several civilians tried to flee the bullets, only to be pushed back by the ones running away from Thulgira.

The reservists kept firing into the crowd. Several civilians died. Several more surged forward. A few of them had faces twisted in rage. They swarmed the reservists. Feet and fists went up and down, some of those fists clutching bottles and cell phones and anything else they could grab.

Taylor hung his head. Yeah, that worked. Dammit!

The Colonel had been right. Trying to clear some of the roads sparked a riot. A deadly riot.

"Our armor and artillery will never reach their positions."

Taylor turned to Major General Suk, who stared at the monitors with a hardened gaze. He responded with a grunt. What could he say? Suk was right. Once a riot got going, it was damn hard to stop. Especially when that riot occurred in a city with ten million people running away from a monster.

He looked at a security camera feed. Two M1A1 tanks sat in the middle of a street, surrounded by stopped vehicles and mobs of civilians. Other cameras broadcast similar scenes.

His tanks and self-propelled artillery wouldn't be going anywhere.

Unless . . .

Nausea burned his stomach as the thought formed in his mind. His armored forces could reach their positions in Jongno-gu and neighboring Seodaemun-gu. What sort of obstacles were people and cars to a 60-ton tank?

Can I really do it? Could he really order his tanks and SPGs to roll over civilians?

We have to protect the capital.

At the cost of how many hundreds or thousands crushed by tank treads?

They're dead anyway if we can't stop Thulgira.

And what guarantee did they have they could stop that damn monster? Missiles and bombs and shells hadn't even scratched it yet.

Maybe we can slow it down enough to let the civilian population escape.

Kill a few thousand to save several million. That would be a logical trade-off. Could he live with that kind of logic? What about the crews of those tanks and SPGs? Could they live with it? Would they even obey such an order?

Taylor glanced over at Suk. What about him and all the other South Koreans here? What would they think of an American general who ordered his tanks to roll over their civilians? Would that wreck their alliance? And what about the press? All the hand-wringing the reporters and pundits and their political allies did over Abu Graib and the perceived torture at Guantanamo Bay would pale in comparison to American tanks deliberately crushing South Korean civilians.

But how could he just let his tanks and SPGs not even try to stop this attack?

Make a decision, Michael, and make it now.

He drew a breath and opened his mouth.

"Thulgira is approaching Blue House," a South Korean captain announced from his console. "AC-130 is on station, ready to attack."

"Have Global Hawk zoom in on that area. Put it up on the main screen."

"Yes, Sir."

The screen flickered. An overhead image of Thulgira trampling trees and smashing gardens appeared. Taylor noticed Suk's jaw quiver slightly as he watched the monster stomp toward a building with a hipped-and-gabled roof covered with blue tiles.

Blue House.

The ROK President wasn't there, of course. He'd long since been evacuated. Still, destroying it would be a psychological blow to the South Koreans, as destroying The White House would be for Americans.

A fat, bulky four-prop plane appeared overhead. An AC-130 Spectre, the gunship version of the venerable C-130 Hercules transport. Another wall monitor showed an image from the Spectre's gun camera.

"Spectre has target lock," reported the South Korean captain. "Ready to fire."

Taylor nodded. "Tell them to fire at will."

"Yes, Sir."

The image from the gun camera lit up as tracers from the 25mm gatling gun and the 40mm Bofors cannon streaked down toward Thulgira. Every few seconds the image shook as the 105mm howitzer boomed. Flashes of orange and yellow sprouted across the monster's body. The AC-130 continued to circle Thulgira, keeping up a steady stream of fire. Taylor had seen the aircraft's impressive array of weapons lay waste to enemy forces in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Against, Thulgira, they did nothing.

The monster raised its head and fired a laser. The circling, slow-moving AC-130 made an easy target. Taylor sighed and lowered his eyes after the plane turned into a fireball.

Thulgira tramped up to Blue House. Its massive foot smashed down on the building, which crumpled as though it was made of matchsticks. The other buildings of the complex met similar fates, until all that remained were piles of rubble.

He heard gasps, two female, one male. All Korean. Taylor rotated his head left to right. Every South Korean soldier in the place had their eyes fixed on the screen. Some gaped at the ruin of the Blue House complex. Others, like General Suk, stood or sat in stoic silence. One or two looked as though they might cry.

Taylor drew a long, deep breath. "All right, everyone. There's nothing we can do about Blue House. But we still have the rest of Seoul to protect. General Suk." He turned to the CFC head of operations, his decision on their armored forces made. "As you said, there's no way our tanks and SPGs will make it to their positions. Tell the crews to disable all sensitive equipment aboard and abandon their vehicles. If they can't make it out on foot, tell them to seek shelter in a basement."

"Yes, Sir."

Taylor then looked to General Pendelli. "Looks like it's up to the air force to stop Thulgira. What's the status on the strike package?"

"The F/A-18s from the Enterprise are almost on station." Enterprise was the second US carrier operating in the Korean Theater of Operations, specifically in the Sea of Japan. "Alpha Strike should commence in five minutes."

"Thank you, General." Taylor nodded and looked at another screen, this one showing the radar feed from a South Korean 737 AEW&C. Over seventy planes of all types were gathering around the South Korean capital. American F-16s, F/A-18s and A-10s, ROK F-15s, F-16s, F-4s and F-5s. All preparing to hit Thulgira from every point on the compass.

He watched a group of electronic blips nearing Seoul. F/A-18 Hornets from the Enterprise. His eyes then shifted to the view from the Global Hawk. Another laser cut through the air. Skyscrapers exploded in half, their tops tumbling to the ground. Great gray clouds of debris rolled over smaller buildings. Taylor barely suppressed a shiver. Nine-Eleven flashed through his mind. Nine-Eleven magnified by a factor of thirty.

Come on, damn you, he mentally cursed the jets. Hurry the hell up!

Once the Hornets reached their station, all the jets in the strike package climbed higher. Another laser blast from Thulgira set several blocks of Seoul afire. Huge clouds of smoke and dust billowed up from the ground. Before long, Taylor had a hard time seeing Thulgira.

And if I can't see him . . .

The US and ROK jets nosed over and dove on the monster. Their radio transmissions came through the speakers in the JOC.

"I don't have a visual on the target."

"Too much smoke. I can't see."

"I've got a radar return on something big. It's gotta be the monster."

"I can't get a laser lock with all that smoke."

Someone from the South Korean 737 AEW&C rattled off GPS coordinates.

"Got it!"

"Fire!"

"Fire!"

"Bombs away!"

Taylor noticed everyone's attention turn to the main screen. A few surviving buildings could be seen through breaks in the clouds of smoke and dust.

Suddenly the clouds vanished. A digital image of Thulgira appeared, stomping through one neighborhood after another as it neared the Han River.

Must be the Global Hawk's Synthetic Aperture Radar. Those things could see through the thickest of clouds.

Trails of flame tore through the smoke and dust. So did several dark, oblong shapes. Missiles and bombs. The Global Hawk's SAR showed some of the projectiles missing badly, by as much as a mile or more.

Smart weapons don't necessarily mean perfect weapons.

Other bombs and missiles exploded near Thulgira. A few hit dead on. Taylor held his breath and took a couple steps toward the monitor. Other soldiers and airmen manning the consoles leaned forward as the SAR image showed Thulgira stumble and flail.

Go down. Go down and stay down, dammit.

A second wave of fighters and attack jets dove on Thulgira. Dozens of contrails and dozens of bombs converged on the monster's position. Some missed, those misses ranging from a few feet to a mile-and-a-half. Others scored direct hits. Thulgira leaned to one side and fell.

A smattering of cheers went through the JOC. Others shot out of their seats, looking ready to cheer.

Taylor tensed, his eyes locked on the screen. One second passed. Thulgira did not move. Two seconds passed. Still it didn't move. Three seconds . . . four . . . five . . .

The SAR picked up movement. Not much at first. Soon Thulgira pushed itself off the ground and was back on its feet.

"No," came a fearful whisper from a female Korean lieutenant.

Lasers shot from Thulgira's horns and into the air. The beam moved back and forth. Taylor glanced at the feed from the 737 AEW&C. One dot vanished. Then another and another. The beast had to be firing blind through the smoke and the dust. But with so many planes in the air, Thulgira was bound to hit some of them.

The monster turned its lasers back to ground targets. Bridges spanning the Han River, bridges packed with people, exploded into nothingness. More skyscrapers were cut in half, huge chunks of debris tumbling to the ground. Flames swept through one gu after another.

A heavy silence hung over the JOC. Taylor looked around. Several Americans and Koreans hung their heads, Suk included. Taylor clenched his jaw, trying not to hang his head. Even now, he had to appear confident in front of the men and women he led.

Not that he felt confident, not after they threw everything they had at Thulgira to no avail.

He walked over to one of the communications consoles and picked up a red phone. He heard the dial tone the moment he held it to his ear. The phone was connected to just one person in the entire world.

The President of the Republic of Korea.

"Mister President, this is General Taylor. I regret to inform you that Seoul has fallen."

XXXXX

Soldiers, scientists and technicians alike cheered and shook hands as the few surviving cameras in Seoul showed the great city awash in fire.

"You have succeeded, Doctor Barznav," Major General Sang told him. "Seoul has been destroyed. The capitalists in the South will be utterly demoralized. They have nothing that can stop Thulgira. It will not be long before the capitalist oppressors are defeated and The Fatherland is reunited. Your service to the Great Leader shall be rewarded."

"Mm-hmm." Barznav simply nodded and continued looking at the burning city. The Great Leader reward him? With what? A paltry few million dollars. The Midget had a bank account worth billions.

His eyes shifted from the monitors to the keyboard that controlled Thulgira, then back to the monitors. He thought about some of the propaganda broadcasts he'd heard, the ones that claimed The Midget actually controlled Thulgira.

That idiot couldn't use a DVD player without help.

He controlled Thulgira. Him and him alone.

And if he controlled Thulgira, what could stop him from controlling Korea?

To hell with Korea. What's to stop me from controlling the world?

TO BE CONTINUED


AUTHOR'S NOTE: AEW&C – Airborne Early Warning & Control

JOC – Joint Operation Center