Office of the Chief of the Combined Security Forces of BnL
June 19, 2075
To General Zhuang Kwong, Commander in Chief of Army Group Delta –
You are to be commended for your rapid advance into the interior of Siberian Russia. However, you should temper the enjoyment of your success with a certain amount of caution.
While the forces making up Army Group Delta far outnumber anything the Soviets have left in the east, due to the Russian retreat to their last defensive lines, you are running the risk of spreading yourself too thin. I have noticed a slow rise in reports of Communist partisan activity in your district, which is possibly being directed by clandestine NKVD agents.
It would be wise to stop attempts to take more land that would be difficult to hold safely, and to consolidate your gains.
Respectfully,
General Sandra Armquist
…the Strategic Defense Initiative was revived by the USA after the Iranian Missile Crisis caused widespread resurgence of the fear of global nuclear war.
In a well-publicized partnership between the Union Aerospace Corporation and the United States government, a network of defensive satellites were launched in order to intercept ballistic missiles shortly after they had been launched, while ABM silos were built throughout NATO allies to shoot down any nuclear weapons that managed to get past the satellite cover. Tying together these two systems was a massively expanded radar network, designed to detect missile launches anywhere in the world.
After the Consolidation began, BnL inherited the SDI project, and maintains it to this very day as a deterrent against would-be nuclear powers…
- BnLpedia
Corporal Han was on guard duty. It was boring, cold work, but at least it was also reasonably safe. You could get sniped by Soviet fanatics if you went out on patrol. Rumor had it that recently the Communists had been getting so audacious, that several squads had completely disappeared after they left the base.
So he didn't complain about standing around outside for hours on end in front of the front gate, where the only event that broke up the monotony was the occasional convoy.
It was amazing how many soldiers they lost in each convoy detail. No matter how many APCs they sent out with the trucks, a few men were always killed by roadside bombs. They did their best to sweep the streets for mines, but the transportation networks were so rudimentary that the partisans had an easy time of hiding the hateful things. Truly, this was the arse-end of Russia.
Han was rubbing his hands to try to keep warm, when another line of battered trucks rumbled up to the entrance. There were fewer of them than usual, which was odd. There was always more safety in numbers. He wouldn't have been very surprised if they had been ambushed several times.
He pulled out a clipboard and walked up to the side of the leading car, head hunched down against the chill. "Name?"
"Ming Xiong."
Han scribbled it down on the clipboard. "Goods carried?"
The driver looked at him blankly from behind the sunglasses he was wearing. "Ammunition."
He almost waved the truck on through, when something began niggling at him. The situation was wrong. Han asked, "Would you mind if I checked what was inside?"
"Are you sure you want to do that, sir?" The man reached into a pocket, and pulled out a wad of cash. "Perhaps this could clear up the situation…"
Oh. They were smugglers. He looked around to see if anyone would notice, and then pocketed the money. "Head right on in."
As the convoy went in the base, he started to count his new-found wealth. It was over a thousand BnL credits, very nice. So engrossed with the money, he almost didn't notice the explosion that rocked the interior of the military compound, killing hundreds of officers.
Approval Ratings Hit New Low
Protests in France, Germany
Demands for Global CEO to Enter Negotiations with Soviets
President Waternoose slammed the newspaper printouts down in front of General Armquist. "Look at this… trash, Sandra! Now, tell me again that it will take several years to take out the last Communist strongholds."
"It's the truth, Mr. President. If I tried to say anything else, I'd be making stuff up." She shrugged.
"Sandra, only sixty percent of people think I'm doing a good job. That's the lowest my general approval rating has been for over a decade! My analysts say that I'm losing an average of a half percentage point a week. We can't keep this up!"
Armquist rubbed her forehead for a second. "Mr. President, each time we have managed to dislodge the Soviets from one of their defensive works in the west, they sacrifice hundreds of their planes and trained pilots to buy time for a fighting retreat. We have only been able to achieve the complete destruction of fourteen divisions, barely a drop in the bucket for the Soviet Union.
"The Chinese are not doing any better. When they march out in force, the Communist partisans melt into the countryside. If they try to divide their armies to perform counter-insurgency tactics, which they have NO training for, they get ambushed. And all the while, their convoys and bases get hammered by indiscriminate bombings.
"On top of all this, without Nekrasov to act as a halfway decent figurehead, partisans are beginning to sprout up in the western sector now. You should be glad that we aren't losing, sir."
Frustrated, Waternoose opened his mouth to shout an angry retort. Instead, he clutched his chest in pain. His heart was acting up again, as it had started to since this utter debacle began. Hand shaking, he pulled out a medicine bottle, and dry-swallowed two pills.
Sandra had a concerned expression on her face. "Are you all right, sir?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. After waiting a minute, the dreadful vise in his chest released its grip. Breathing more easily, Waternoose said, "I think I have a plan to deal with both of our problems."
She raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be, sir?"
With a little grunt, he opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a sheaf of paper. It was signed and dated at the bottom. "General Sandra Armquist. I am authorizing you to use tactical nuclear weapons, in order to dislodge the Soviet Army from their defensive positions. While our stockpile of neutron bombs nowhere near rivals those that were held by the former United States, it should be more than sufficient."
Armquist said, shocked, "Mr. President. If I use nuclear weapons first, I will be giving a free pass to the Soviets to respond likewise. And you know that their supply is as large as it ever has been."
"So? That's what we have the SDI for."
"But, sir--"
He held up a hand. "No more 'buts,' Sandra. These are my orders. By using as many tactical nukes as you deem necessary, end this war. It's gone on for long enough."
In a way, General Armquist couldn't argue with results. The neutron shells would explode over the fortifications, instantly killing the people inside. After each section had been cleared, her soldiers would move in easily, not even having to worry about residual radiation. Neutron based weaponry was very clean.
The only hard part was how many they had to use. Even after all this time, it was amazing how big the Soviet Army was. And they only had so many of the devices.
"Comrade President. Our field commanders have confirmed that the Yankees are using nuclear weaponry."
"This is not unexpected. They have grown desperate. Execute Operation Jericho."
Warning, missile launches detected.
A few white circles appeared in the distant north, indicating the launch sites. According to the observation satellites, the missiles were being fired from boomers based in the western Arctic Ocean. The Soviets were apparently hoping to get in some hits on BnL Europe. Not if she could help it.
Not showing how nervous she really was, Armquist calmly said to the computer, "Transfer all space-based SDI assets so as to protect Region 3, BnL Europe, from incoming missile fire."
Confirmed.
The SRH flickered, as more missiles began streaking up into space. An overlay of the satellites present came on, and she saw them begin shifting over to cover Europe. She watched with great satisfaction as one of the ICBMs burst harmlessly in space. It was now only a matter of waiting.
For the first twenty minutes, the people in the room cheered after each nuke was shot down. Then everyone began to lose interest, as it became routine.
Sandra frowned. This was too easy. All the stuff the Soviets were throwing at them were obscenely antiquated, she wouldn't have been surprised if they were Cold War vintage.
When she had mentioned her suspicions to one of her subordinates, he had guessed that maybe they didn't have the resources to have maintained anything better. But that was stupid. With all the blatantly obvious preparation they had done for the war, you'd think they'd have devoted some effort to building and overhauling their nuclear arsenal.
Her finger went unconsciously to her chin. Tap, tap, tap. Her eyes widened. Of course! It was all a feint. She began frantically looking over the world map on the holoscreen, trying to figure out what focusing the SDI systems on Europe would leave uncovered. Not the Americas, too many ABM silos. Not Africa, or the Middle East, as they would still be covered by the reassigned satellites.
It was Asia!
She shouted for the computer to transfer as many of the missile interception sats as possible, but it was already too late. The screen began to blaze white, as what seemed like millions of hellish points of light filled the western Pacific Ocean.
Frank Grimes knocked on the door to the Presidents' suite for the fourth time, and then decided he might as well go in. It was the middle of the night, so it'd make sense that the old man was asleep.
Everyone had thought that this sort of bad news was the kind you'd give in person, so he had volunteered to be the messenger.
To his surprise, Waternoose was already up, seated in his favorite chair. All Frank could see was a fringe of white hair poking up over the recliner. The holoscreen was on, turned to BnLNN.
"The current death toll is estimated to be two point five seven five billion citizens, with a margin of error of …"
Frank cringed. That was basically the worst way to find out what had happened. He loudly cleared his throat.
President Waternoose didn't respond.
Coughing yet again, he said, "Sir?" He began walking around the chair to come face to face with Waternoose.
The elderly man was slumped over, like a marionette with all its strings cut. Fumbling in his pocket for his cell phone with one hand, Frank used the other to feel for a pulse. There was one, but just barely.
After flipping open the phone, he dialed the emergency number, praying that the doctors would get there in time. If only the stubborn old sod had agreed to get an internal heart monitor installed, this would never have happened.
"You're on in thirty seconds, sir."
The smiling man nodded affably, and looked in the mirror for one last check. Tie straight, hair perfect, and above all, the smile. That air of complete honesty and good-natured will towards his fellow man had stood him in fine stead for years, and he privately credited it for being what got him the position of CEO of BnL North America.
And that's what the poor old fellow, Mr. Waternoose, had never understood. The ex-president had always been abysmal at speaking to the public. When things were going well, the general populace managed to overlook this foible. But as the situation went south, it didn't help that whenever he'd be on the holovee, Waternoose would generally look like he had no idea of what he was doing. Least photogenic person in existence, the smiling man could hardly tell the difference after Waternoose suffered the debilitating heart attack that rendered him a vegetable.
Now, what people wanted was someone who seemed to know what they were doing, and appeared to understand their problems. While he would never admit that he had anything in common with the average citizen of BnL, he had a lot of practice at acting as though he did.
"Ten seconds, sir."
He walked out of the dressing room, heading straight for the studio. A holovee recorder sat there, ready to send his message to millions of humans across the globe. In front of it was the Director of the BnL Department of Law, Johann Gerhardt.
The cameraman held up three fingers, folding each one as he counted down to the beginning of the transmission. A light labeled BROADCASTING flickered on.
Gerhardt said, "We have solemnly gathered on this day to affirm the new Global CEO of Buy n Large. Repeat these words after me…" He ran through the entire oath of office.
Without missing a beat, the smiling man repeated the words, hand on his chest.
"I, Shelby Forthright, do swear to uphold the Office of Global CEO of Buy n Large, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the rules and regulations as set down by the Board of Directors and honored BnL stockholders. So help me God."