Author's Note(s):
As Henry the Eighth said to each one of his six wives, I won't keep you long. Welcome to chapter two of the Official Prologue. Please enjoy.
Prologue 2 Caution! Contains Blood and Gore
23/09/1975 (dd/mm/yyyy) 14:36 Hours
The Kremlin, Moscow, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Chernyavsky Maxim Zyuganov laces his fingers as he looks around his office. For the past year, he had shaped the USSR's government in a way that even Stalin would wrinkle his nose. After an "accident" occurred with Leonid Brezhnev, he was able to secure power as the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union with ease. Backed by both the KGB and the Soviet Armed Forces, Chernyavsky was easily able to gain the support of the CPSU and establish a strong office.
A knock breaks Zyuganov's thoughts and he straightens up.
"Enter!"
The door opens and several highly decorated officers walk in. The first was newly appointed Marshal of the Soviet Union, Laptev Dimitri Stanislavovich and the second was Chief of the General Staff, Marshal of the Soviet Union Gorokhin Vikentiy Antonovich. They were flanked by a dozen generals and admirals which sent a message to Zyuganov that something big had just happened.
"Mr. General Secretary, we have a new problem with the invasion." The officers all take seats in his office and set down reports and files on tables. "The Americans have redeployed their forces back to Vietnam to counter our divisions."
"Is that a concern for us?"
"Sir, our force of six divisions is nearing the Demilitarized Zone, where two divisions of US troops are waiting in defense."
Zyuganov smiles and lets out a small scoff.
"Comrades, there is something I must inform you of that only a select few know. In 1949 when I was in my KGB days, Joseph Stalin dispatched twenty KGB agents and an entire division of Soviet troops into the United States. Their mission was and is to influence the Communist Party in the USA and make them look more appealing to the American Public. After they get people to join, they indoctrinate them and train them for war."
"So we have an army already inside the United States. The only matter is if we are to use them or not." One of the generals says while he stops unrolling a map of Vietnam.
"Yes, and if we activate them, their main mission will be to cripple the US's ability to supply itself with its resources. Our units are concentrated towards the center of the US, with a few units on their East Coast to attack their capital as a diversion."
"Is this all necessary General Secretary? Why would we need to attack their mainland if they already believe we are at war with them in Vietnam?"
Zyuganov stands up and walks over to one of the room's walls. He pulls aside the paneling of the wall to reveal a map of Vietnam with the US next to it.
"Currently the United States has posted their military units here," he points to the DMZ on the Vietnam map, "and our units are advancing here." He points above the DMZ and then faces his generals who were now leaning in to see what he was planning. He continues.
"We will give the order for our divisions to advance rapidly into South Vietnam, and engage the US Military head-on." He is cut off by Laptev.
"With respect, General Secretary, we simply cannot do that. Our troops can't take on the US. The US has dug in their troops, and our men are going through rapid jungle training to be ready to strike by the end of the month. If we send them in now, the Americans' troops will be able to repel if not destroy them."
"That is where the next part of the plan comes in, comrade." He flips a switch on the side of the American map and several red dots appear on the US map.
"These, comrades, are our assortment of soviet supporters and military units positioned in the heart of the capitalist's land. And, according to our troops, the US's main supply of resources is here." He flips another switch to turn on many green lights across the map. Most of the country is illuminated, but then several lights turn off and light only appears in the middle of the United States.
"If you look, our troops can quickly attack and destroy these major locations and cripple their ability to fight off of their sources. With most of their resources in the mainland destroyed, they will have to call back all the resources they sent to Vietnam and their troops. Once that happens, we will take Vietnam. After that, we will pull out our people from the United States and let the Americans deal with their new problem."
"What is next after that plan?"
"We prepare for the invasion of Western Europe. With their largest defender in chaos, the remainder of the NATO forces will be no match for us. Once the rest of the capitalist free market-loving European countries accept the USSR's idealistic policies. We will be the largest power on the planet, and the United States will only be able to watch as the entire continent of Europe and Asia is enveloped by communism."
All of the officers look at each other. Some had worried faces, while others were smiling in agreement with Zyuganov. It is obvious that the matter was going to be split in the support levels, so Zyuganov walks back over to his desk and sits down. He faces all of them and an evil grin appears on his face.
"And for your sakes, anyone who does not comply will be removed from their current position and rank and will be imprisoned for defiance of orders from the General Secretary."
After the last sentence, all of the officers stand up and start clapping. They knew that it was a risky type of operation, but if they defied their leader, then they would be dead by the end of the year.
"Make no delays, comrades. Send out the orders to all of our men in Vietnam to launch the attack, by any means necessary, and make sure they use tactics that will guarantee an American retaliation by sending more of their troops to Vietnam. The day the Soviet Union became the world's most powerful government is upon us."
29/09/1975 11:43 Hours
One Mile South From DMZ, Vietnam
Birds chirp and millions of leaves rustle as a calm breeze sweeps over the dense forest near the DMZ. Chris takes the lead of his squad as they navigate around trees and across rivers. Behind him was Sam with the AN/PRC-77 radio manpack, followed by Greg, Darius, Lewis, Brittany, Winston, Ben, Alejandro, and Asher in that order. They had started by separating themselves by ten steps, except Chris and Sam, as he needed to be in constant communication with the rest of the platoon, but were now all clustered together as they were no longer on a cleared path.
Chris stops and motions for the rest of them to stop. He tucks his compass in his vest and faces his squad.
"Alright everyone, we have made some good ground. We will break for fifteen and get going again."
All of them start to sit down or lean on trees and let out sighs of relief. They had almost reached the DMZ on foot and were well ahead of schedule. However, Chris chooses to stay alert and uses his rest time to look through the forest with his binoculars. Something in his gut didn't feel right.
"Hey Miller, you doing all right?" Greg says, walking up to stand next to him. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it in his mouth and offers one to Chris. Chris looks over at it and gives a small shake of his head and goes back to looking through his binoculars. Greg shrugs and puts it back in his box. He then starts feeling around his pockets for a lighter, only to find the pocket he keeps it in with a whole in it.
"Aw dang it. You got a light by any chance?"
Chris reaches into one of his pockets and flips the top of his lighter without breaking his gaze. Greg lights his cigarette and Chris tucks his lighter back away. Greg takes a deep breath and puffs out a large plume of smoke.
"Something's not right Greg. Either something was wrong with those rations we had for breakfast, or we are being watched."
"That's nonsense, the report said the Soviets were still thirty miles out when we left."
"If you remember though, that was their main armor, artillery, and their trucks. Infantry or scouts can travel very fast if they are ordered to."
"I know that, but forty-four miles in the time we traveled, it's nearly impossible, especially for the Soviets."
"I was told by my drill instructor to never underestimate the Soviet Union. He was in World War 2 and heard stories from the captured Germans that they did the same thing and were forced to retreat."
Greg nods while looking out into the jungle. Chris lowers his binoculars and shakes his head. He goes to sit down, but he notices something. He turns and looks at the jungle again.
"Hey Greg," He whispers, only to find Greg still walking back over to the group, "Greg!" He whispers louder.
"What?" Greg faces him.
"You hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"It's quiet. All the birds have stopped chirping."
The rest of the squad notices too and all of them stand, with their weapons ready and their gear back on their shoulders. Chris walks over to Sam to contact John when zipping sounds and snapping branches fill the air.
"Everyone down, now!"
Everyone dives for the ground as loud cracks of wood are heard and several leaves start to fall from the trees. Chris looks over a log he had taken cover behind when a loud 'ping' sound makes his right earring. He ducks back down and waits for the ringing to stop.
"Return fire!"
Chris pulls his rifle off his shoulder and aims into the woods. Before he pulls the trigger, he figures out what the ping sound was. A bullet had struck an inch from the muzzle brake and nearly tore it clean off. He pushes down a surge of anger and fires a single shot into the air. He squeezes his eyes as he pulls the trigger. After getting peppered with a few bits of metal, he looks at his barrel and notices that the muzzle brake was gone, and his rifle was cleared of any obstructions.
"Sam! Get over here!"
Sam runs over to Chris and slides in next to him. Chris picks up the receiver of the radio and starts to radio for help from the other squads of the platoon.
"Whiskey Echo Zero actual, this is Charlie Tango Three actual, we are under attack! We need reinforcements, over!"
#Roger Charlie Tango Three Actual, what are your current coordinates, over.# Chris unfolds his map and tries to find the exact place he had marked they were.
"Our coordinates are Four Eight Quebec X-Ray…" He is cut off when a spray of bullets tears through the trunk and destroys the radio. Sam lets out a grunt-like noise as a few 12.7 x 108mm bullets go through the backpack and his body. Chris's eyes widen in horror as Sam's stomach explodes out and blood is spewed across the grass, brush, and dirt. Chris looks up at Sam's head, only to find that another bullet tore it off at the neck.
"Dang it! Greg, Sam's gone!"
"What?!" Greg looks over and quickly rushes over to Chris and the remains of Sam. Greg clenches his fists and fights back tears.
"I'm sorry Greg, I should've…"
"It's not your fault, Lieutenant, it's those flipping Commies." He grabs the battered remains of Sam's dog tags and pockets them. He then moves next to Chris and starts firing in the direction of the Soviets.
"Did you at least call in for reinforcements?!"
"I was relaying our coordinates when the bullets started shredding through the log." Chris grabs Sam's rifle and grudgingly shoulders the weapon dripping with blood. He fires a few rounds into the jungle then looks over to the rest of the squad.
He finds that Darius and Asher had taken up position behind a tree stump and were spraying the treeline with 7.62 rounds from Darius's M60. A couple of yards closer to Chris, and about three yards south, Lewis was on the ground, bleeding profusely from his shoulder and neck, with Brittany and Ben both helping him. On the other side of Chris, Winston was firing single shots from his M16A1 next to Greg. Chris turns just in time to see Alejandro rush from behind a rock towards him, only to have two bullets tear through his chest and head.
"Alejandro!" Ben shouts as he snaps off a few rounds. He then goes back to helping Lewis, when a bullet goes into his side. He collapses onto Lewis and immediately dies. Brittany's eyes widen, and she quickly finishes patching up Lewis. She grabs him by his vest and drags him to Chris and Greg. She leans him up against the log and takes place on the other side of Sam's body.
"What the heck is this?! I thought it was supposed to take them another day to reach the DMZ!"
"I guess those Reddies decided to get a move on!" Chris shouts over all of the shooting. The blood on his "new" rifle had dried to the plastic, the upper receiver, and all over Chris. An explosion comes from the right and Chris looks over to see Asher slumped over and Darius clutching his leg.
"We need that cover fire! Everyone shed and give me those belts!"
Everyone who had 7.62 belts took turns unwrapping themselves to give to Chris. After all of them had been laid out, Chris picks them up and runs over to Darius. A bullet ricochets off the front of his helmet, leaving a hole in the cover and the metal. He leaps over Darius and Asher and drops all of the belts next to them.
"Are you guys alright?!"
"I think I'll live! But I'm not sure about Asher…" Darius says as Chris checks Asher for a pulse. He doesn't find one and drags him back from the trunk. Chris moves up to take the assistant gunners position. He lifts the cover and clears out the remaining belt links inside. He places the belt into place and slams the gun closed. He looks back at Darius who had passed out and appeared to be losing a lot of blood.
"One of you, get him out of here!"
Brittany runs over, being the closest and non-injured, and dives for Chris as a mortar hits a couple of yards south of her. She lands into Chris's side and he grunts from her elbow burying itself into his waist. She crawls over to Darius and picks him up, before taking off she looks at Chris, who is now firing the M60 into the forest, in an attempt to draw the fire to him.
She takes off, with Darius dangling over her shoulder, trying to avoid bullets and fragmentations from hitting them both. She sets him down next to Lewis and goes back to shooting.
Chris finishes a belt and looks over to his right. Now that they were all safe for what he had planned, he swallows and grabs a Cross necklace around his neck. He says a quick prayer and goes back to work. He gropes around Asher's body until he finds the spare barrel and more ammunition belts for the M60. He pulls off the heated one, sticks it in the pouch the cool one was in and slides the new barrel in. He attaches another belt to the gun and clips the barrel pouch to his belt. He sets the belts of ammo into ammo boxes or crates and starts attaching them to his vest.
"Greg! Greg!"
Chris tries to call Greg, but a volley of mortar explosions deafens out any speech. He picks up a pebble and chucks it at Greg. The pebble hits him in the neck and he looks over at Chris.
"What?!"
"I'm gonna circle and flank the enemy. I need you to go around the other side and do the same!"
"Are you gonna go alone?!"
"I guess it would be nice to carry a little more ammo, I need one of you to come with me!"
Winston gets up to go, but Greg yanks him back as bullets tear into the tree trunk. Greg tells Winston to go the other way and faces Brittany.
"You go with the Lieutenant, we are gonna go around."
Greg and Winston crawl through the brush and eventually out of sight. Brittany crawls over to Darius and Lewis who has regained consciousness.
"You two gonna be okay while we go?"
"We can hold out, just make sure everyone comes back."
She nods and makes a mad dash for Chris. Chris dumps everything from his pack and starts to fill it with boxes of ammo. Brittany drops down and covers her head as an RPG sends shattered rock everywhere.
"Sir, Greg sent me to help you!"
"Good. Dump your pack and start loading in ammo. We are gonna need all we can carry without slowing down too much."
She throws off her pack and rapidly flings everything out. A minute later both of them finish loading and sling on the heavier packs. Chris picks up the M60 and looks to the left where they would be going.
"Let's go!"
Brittany charges ahead while Chris pauses once to look back at the now cleared forest. Darius had patched himself up and was now dragging bodies back to the log. Lewis had found a hole in the log that was carved out by the Soviet heavy rounds. It was large enough for him to shoot and aim out of. Knowing that the two would be okay, he takes off after Brittany, nearly losing his balance a few times.
Barely reaching 100 meters, Chris and Brittany find themselves exhausted beyond their limits. Even with splitting the ammo, the 6 lb belts all added up to take their toll on the two. Just when they feel things are over, a noise from behind causes both of them to drop to the ground. Chris brings the M60 around to open fire, but stops when he sees a platoon of American troops rushing to them. They rush up to Chris and kneel with them. The platoon's First Lieutenant meets up with Chris and Brittany.
"Are you two alright?"
"Yes. We are trying to flank the Soviet positions that are entrenched somewhere in that direction." Chris points toward the gunfire.
"Is this that's all left of you? Where is your squad commander?"
"What do you mean? I am the squad's Lieutenant." Chris pats the front of his helmet and notices the dent/hole where his rank insignia was.
"Well, it doesn't matter right now. There are two guys over there flanking the enemy on the other side, and about 90-100 meters that way are two injured men and four dead providing cover fire for us."
"Alright, Dexter, take your squad and give aid in any way possible. Taylor, go with them, they are gonna need a medic. The rest of you, let's go."
All of them start and Chris follows the squads heading towards the Soviets. With reinforcements, he knew the Soviets would have to fight harder, or retreat. They advance 200 meters before stopping. At a 45 degree angle to their position, the enemy had set up their "camp".
A long trench/wall had been erected and was lined with wood and rocks. On top of the wall were dozens of machine-gun emplacements and soldiers firing at where Chris's squad originally was. They could not see how many men were fighting, but instead of moving on, they decided that attacking now would be good enough to push the enemy back.
"Hey Lieutenant," Brittany asks Chris as he sets down the M60, "How are you holding up?" She says as he drops his backpack and pulls out a few belts. She does the same and takes up a position next to him.
"Besides my back hurting and sweat coming from everywhere, I'd say I'm doing fine."
He rests his cheek on the stock and lines up the irons at a machine gun position. Brittany lays down and holds the belt up for him as they wait for the signal to open fire. While they wait, Chris starts to think back about the four men they had lost. He hadn't even been in charge of them for ten days.
Before he can dwell on his thoughts anymore, the First Lieutenant of the platoon gives the order to fire and all of his men start firing. Chris squeezed the trigger angrily and showers the machine gun emplacement with at least thirty rounds before moving on. He brings the gun over towards a 6x6 truck and finishes the rest of the belt on a squad of Soviets trying to get on the truck.
Instead of running, the enemy troops turn their guns on the Americans and return fire. This shocks the Americans, as they had already gunned down half of the Soviet troops. The fight lasts for about ten minutes before the remaining Soviet troops finally wave a white flag. The Americans cautiously approach the entrenched area. Inside the walls, dozens of bodies were strewn across the earth, with only a few of them still moving.
"What a mess."
One of the sergeants from the platoon says as he steps over a Soviet. The body had multiple bullet holes in it. That was how most of the bodies were, with even the wounded Soviets having at least two holes if not more. Chris walks over to the machine gun emplacements and observes the weapons. Most of them were the new Soviet NSV heavy machine guns, with a few being DShK 1938 heavies. He lifts one of the belts of the gun and then looks at the barrel. The barrel had gotten so hot, that leaves, bugs, and dirt had fused to the metal. He drops the belt and looks ahead. He pulls out his binoculars to see if he could see where his squad was ambushed.
"Hey, Lieutenant." Chris turns to see Greg, Winston, and Brittany walking up to him.
"You guys made it."
"Was there any doubt?"
"None whatsoever. I take it you have something you want to tell me?"
"Yes, the First Lieutenant over there wants us to head back to where Darius and Lewis are. His squad there is clearing a spot for an LZ. He wants us on the choppers back to our outpost to get fresh supplies, new troops, and then rejoin our platoon."
"Well then, let's get going. We don't want to miss the evac."
They walk out into the forest, well what was left. The Soviet fire had cut down several trees and shattered the trunks. A few animals were torn to pieces and had covered the ground in more blood.
"This is crazy. Those Soviets cleared out a jungle, and possibly a landing zone, just to get one squad of troops?"
"I guess they have a policy to keep firing until they don't see any more muzzle flashes from our rifles."
"Speaking of muzzles, I had my muzzle brake shot off during that battle," Chris says.
"Yeah, and you had your rank shot off."
"Was that before or after he shot off the rest of his muzzle, cause that was stupid," Winston said.
"Hey, it was better than trying to wrench off the thing with my hands."
"Far point, but next time, just hit it against a rock or something, cause I could feel those fragments from ten feet away."
"You got a deal."
They continue on and nearly reach the log they had taken cover behind. Darius and Lewis were both sitting on the log while Taylor patches them up. The squad that was sent to aid was now cutting down trees with their machetes. A few feet from the tree trunk the squad had covered the bodies of the dead soldiers.
"I am never going to put that at ease…" Chris says under his breath. They start to walk over to the center of the LZ when a large explosion behind them causes them to duck. A large cloud of dust and tree debris is all that is left of the fortification where the platoon was.
"What was that?!"
"I don't know, I think the Soviets placed a bomb there to take as many of us as they could."
"Dang, that was close," Chris says while wiping his brow and adjusting his helmet for better air circulation.
"Should we check for survivors?"
"There would be no point. That blast would have been enough to tear apart the White House."
They look at the blast area as several tree limbs and rocks fall back to the earth. It takes a few minutes for the dust to clear, but when it does, they spot several soldiers climbing up the crater lip from the other side.
"Hey look, survivors!" Winston shouts and points at the soldier looking at them.
"Somethings not right," Chris says while pulling up his binoculars. He focuses on the soldier and his eyes go wide. "Oh crap, he's a Soviet!"
A bullet zips by and all of them take cover. Chris picks up an M16 that was left on the ground. He realizes that it was his with the missing muzzle brake.
"Well, I guess all ends meet."
He pulls the trigger, only to realize the weapon has no ammo. He looks over at the place where he had left his rucksack and other gear. He rushes over and picks up his untouched magazines. He picks up Brittany's rifle and spare ammo and runs it over to her. He drops her rifle and ammo on the ground and goes to load his rifle. He finishes and starts firing at the Soviets, who were now in greater numbers.
"Dexter, I sure hope you guys still have your radioman, cause we are going to need a lot of support."
29/09/1975 01:05 Hours
Washington D.C, United States of America
President Dirrel is woken from his sleep by the ringing of his telephone. He reaches over and picks up the receiver.
"Hello?"
#Mr. President, this is Secretary Tom Brenton, There's been a situation in Vietnam that you need to see. We are currently in the Briefing Room.#
The line ends, and Dirrel sets the receiver on the base. He gets out of bed and goes to change. A minute later he is in a suit and ready to head out of the door. It takes him two minutes to speed walk down to the Briefing Room, where a dozen people have collected. They all stand as he enters the room and he takes his chair.
"Now that the President is here, we can begin. Sir, at approximately 11:40 Hours Vietnam time, our troops advancing to meet the advancing Soviet army began to radio back that they were encountering heavy resistance."
"I thought the Soviet forces weren't supposed to meet our troops until tomorrow."
"That was the original thought, so we moved our forces up accordingly with our infantry units to dig in, then they would be followed by our tank forces." Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Allan Hester replies.
"So how do you explain what is happening now?"
"They did the same thing we did, they sent their infantry on smaller trucks with heavy weaponry, but they did so several days earlier than us. They now have established defensive areas to counter our advancing infantry."
Dirrel pinches his forehead and looks at a map of the DMZ on the table.
"What units do we have moving in now?"
"Currently the 101st Airborne, 82nd Airborne, and the 1st Cavalry Division are advancing through. Even though both units have been given light and medium tanks, the tanks are just now leaving to help reinforce their positions. We have dispatched all available helicopters, fighter jets, and bombers to assist our men, but it will take a few hours for them to be at peak efficiency." Vice-Chairman General Ayden Heath replies.
"What about the Soviets? How large of a force are we up against?"
The room goes quiet as everyone looks at the paperwork on the table. Dirrel leans forward and picks up his copy of the numbers. He grips the paper hard as he reads the numbers.
"An estimated 50-100 thousand Soviet troops are advancing on our men?" Dirrel says.
"Yes, sir. And they are being supported by 60 thousand Chinese troops. One thing that the report doesn't mention is that their troops are being supported by thousands of tanks and artillery units."
Dirrel lets out a sign and sets the papers down. He looks at everyone in the room and folds his hands.
"What options do we have?"
"Well sir, we have three options. We order in more troops to face the Soviets and Chinese and experience massive casualties. Two, we order our troops to completely withdraw from Vietnam, and experience heavy casualties as our troops hold tight for an extraction. The third option, well, you won't like it."
"No, we are not dropping another nuclear bomb. We don't need to tally up the total bombs used in war to five now, especially with radioactive fallout that could destroy Vietnam's entire way of life."
"Sir that's the thing, we have a new development that could change the way we use nuclear weapons. It is a revolutionary feat that mustn't be passed up." Allan says.
"No matter how revolutionary a weapon is, we cannot stop the effects of radioactive material affecting the lives of everyone in that region."
Allan looks over to Tom before standing up. He walks over to Dirrel and unrolls a blueprint of a missile. He sets several documents marked "TOP SECRET'' across the blueprints and goes to sit back down. Dirrel takes one of the documents and starts to read what it had. He raises an eye when he reads the first paper, which was the ingredients and process for making a new chemical.
"What does this chemical formula have to do with revolutionizing nuclear warfare?"
A general at the end of the table stands up and moves to the wall next to Dirrel. He pulls down a white screen as the lights in the room go out. A projector is turned on and the white sheet is covered in a black and white image. The picture was a mushroom cloud of a nuclear bomb. Under the picture was the name "Castle Bravo".
"We have been lying to both the public, and our government since 1954. In 1953, we were able to successfully develop a chemical that reacts with the radioactive material used in our labs. We found that the higher the radioactivity, the easier it is for the chemical to eliminate the source of the particles released by radioactive elements. Our first reactions with controlled reactions showed an increase in energy that melted the chamber that they were in. After scanning the area, we found very few to no dangerous particles being released."
"So the reaction still emitted radiation?"
"The initial reaction, but one minute after the reaction, the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma rays, originally called Radi Particles by our scientists, had been absorbed and stopped by the environment around them. Seeing this as an advance, we were able to get clearance to test the chemical during Operation Castle."
The general motions for the next slide on the projector, and it switches to a picture of the device used.
"The cylindrical body of the device was used to house the chemical around the reaction chamber. The first estimated yield was to only be 1.5 megatons, but we forgot one factor that we knew during our first tests. When the chemical reacts with a nuclear reaction, it increases the energy output, in this case, the yield of the blast, by ten times. But we forgot that, and the blast was larger than we expected. The only part of the test that went right was that the initial blast did release radiation, but our chemical prevented radioactive fallout from resulting." Dirrel looked at the pictures with a shocked look on his face, the camera was showing pictures of scanners, which were backpack-sized, and scientists at the edge of the water-filled ground zero. The next picture was a crew of three men on a boat in ground zero with a radiation detector. The meter was barely a millimeter away from its starting position, showing there was little to no radiation. The final photograph was the inside of a plane, next to the cloud emitted from the bomb. Inside the plane was a radiation meter with nearly the same results as the ground zero team.
"So, you mean to tell me that we have a chemical that increases the blast yield of our nuclear weapons, while also decreasing radiation?"
"Yes. We were shocked to find out about it too. We were informed by the Atomic Energy Commission, that a private company, Falmart Inc., was behind the discovery. Once they cracked the formula, they sold it to the Department of Defense for a really good price, giving us the power to create as much of it as we want."
"Hold up. I thought Falmart Inc. was a weapon, vehicle, and aircraft manufacturing company that was privately hired by the military."
"They are sir. They just have different offices. They have their Commercial Aircraft Contracting Office, Military Aircraft Contracting Office, Weapons Contracting Office, Medical and Chemical Contracting and Development Office, and Vehicle Contracting Office. They helped us out when we had the snag with the M60's production in '67. And they helped build new F-4 Phantoms in more numbers for a better price while maintaining the quality as ones from McDonnell Douglas."
"Oh, so how many of our current nuclear weapons are outfitted with uh…"
"Chemical CB-1"
"Right, how many of our weapons have CB-1?"
"We have outfitted over half of our ICBM arsenal with the chemical in their warheads. About 70% of our Minuteman Missiles have the chemical in their warheads, which increases their yield from 1.2 megatons to 12 megatons, and about 10% of our Titans have the chemical. We have deemed there is no more need for more Titan missiles with the chemical onboard."
"Why not?" Dirrel asks while taking in the information.
"Well sir, if all goes to plan, the six missiles that have the chemical each have a yield of 90 megatons, far greater than the Soviet's test with their 50 megaton bomb." Dirrel remains quiet.
'90 megatons? That's enough to wipe out the entire west coast! And with six of these things, we could take out the entire USSR!' Dirrel thinks, while now realizing what power he now had at his disposal.
"So if we use a smaller yield bomb, say one similar to the one dropped on Hiroshima, we will have only a 150 kiloton bomb used on Vietnam, correct?"
Yes sir, and if we position in the correct position above the DMZ, we could take out the majority of the Soviet forces, while saving our military from being gunned down and vaporized by the blast."
"Hmm, and what would be the Soviet response?"
"We don't know sir. They could launch missiles at us, or simply pull out."
Dirrel stands up and straightens his tie. He walks to the door and faces everyone.
"Before we do anything, I am going to make a call to Zyuganov and give him the rundown of what we are prepared to do. Based on his reaction and or mood towards the whole thing, that will be how we move forward with this plan. Gentlemen, have a good evening."
He leaves the room and makes his way to the Oval Office. In his mind, he was hoping that him making a threat of dropping a nuclear bomb would cause Zyuganov to withdraw from Vietnam. If not, he honestly doesn't know what he will do then...
Author's Note(s):
There you go, chapter two of the prologue. Now before you get on me for the whole nuclear weapons thing, I promise there won't be a fifth bomb used in war, wait what. That's right, this is an alternative history if you didn't catch on before. Some of the shocking things will come later, but in this story, four bombs have already been used in war. The US dropped the two in Japan, but the first one was used by the Soviet Union in Germany, which scared the US into using them in Japan. The fourth one was used by the Chinese, which borrowed from the USSR in Korea. It was a small one, but a damaging one no doubt. But instead of throwing the big guns again, I will have a different series of events occur in the next chapter. Stay tuned to see what happens in the third chapter of the prologue. Have a good one.