April 21, 2002 AD
Taipei, Republic of China
The German foreign minister stood up and offered his hand to his ROC counterpart.
The ROC foreign minister smiled. "The people of our Republic have the utmost gratitude to you for this agreement. Your government may begin landing its troops here as soon as possible."
The German, Martin Fritz, also smiled. "We are grateful for your assistance. We will assist you in your fight with the best Germany can offer."
The two ministers shook hands. The alliance between the German Reich and Nationalist China was now reality.
Less than two days later, German divisions began to unload from their transports onto the small island just off Red China's coast.
Their general was a man named Rommel . . .
April 30, 2002 AD
Western Texas plains, United States of America
"Damn these Texans!" The Chinese field marshal screamed in frustration. He had overseen the first invasions of California, and had been surprised by the tenacity of the American citizens there. But nothing had prepared him for Texas . . .
It seemed every citizen had some kind of gun in his vehicle, and that the crazy Americans enjoyed hunting his men down like deer. The Chinese hadn't even been able to hit any of the Texan vehicles, because the damned things were too fast!
The Chinese marshal stewed, growing angrier as he thought. These damned Americans! Why couldn't they just accept their fate?! No, these people were different. The governor of this province, a George Bush, had even urged the people to fight even if there was no hope of winning. The Marshal shook his head. If the Americans weren't such ferocious fighters, he would think they were all insane. Perhaps they were.
Some had even begun grouping themselves into commando units and calling themselves 'wolverines', which his scouts had reported was either a fictional superhero with unbreakable bones and razor-sharp metal claws, or a feisty cat-sized animal with enough strength to kill a panda. He did not like the connotations of either definition.
The marshal was snapped out of his reverie by a voice calling out in English, "WOLVERINES!!"
The sharp hiss of a rocket scorched across the sky, and the tank behind the Marshal exploded, killing its crew and blasting bits of metal and burning material across the area.
The other tanks turned their guns toward the origin of the rocket, but the firing only wasted bullets. The Texan was gone.
The veins bulged on the Marshal's forehead. This whole goddamned province would be like this! And from the advance reports on the other provinces in the southern half of the United States, it wasn't going to get any easier!
"Driver! Signal the battle group! We're turning for this city here!" the Marshal bellowed, pointing viciously at a large city on a map of this province.
The whole group, roughly 11 divisions of tanks with artillery support, turned and began advancing on San Antonio.
May 5, 2002 AD
Shanghai, People's Republic of China
The SS team slipped quietly through the city, slinking down back paths and squeezing between buildings.
The 5-member team continued their stealthy approach until they reached a tall building in the exact center of Shanghai. The team leader glanced around, and then signaled for the team to enter the building.
They climbed the stairs down to the fuel tanks below the building. There the team finally stopped.
While Goring and Heinz covered them, the other members pulled three pieces of equipment from their backpacks. Two bombs, one low power, the other high- power, and a large tank of high quality gasoline were unloaded and placed together.
The simple operation was over in 30 minutes, and 4 members of the team slipped out again, Heinz staying behind to trigger the bombs' explosion.
The SS team hid in the sewers beneath the city. At 1:00 AM, Goring signaled Heinz, and the bombs were detonated.
3 miles away, a squadron of MiG-27 fighters was patrolling the skies for any incoming rockets. The squadron leader was banking his fighter for one more pass over Shanghai when a powerful light turned night into day.
Banking hard, he yelled into his comm. "NUKE!" The MiGs scattered, flying away as fast as they could away from the blast.
They weren't fast enough.
The unbelievable shock wave shattered every piece of glass in the city and snapped metal beams close to the center building. Three of the fleeing MiGs were caught in it and smashed into building already collapsing.
Shanghai was devastated.
Taipei, ROC
Ten minutes later . . .
General Rommel was going over his maps of the landing area. If his plan went as it was supposed to, the area around Shanghai would be disorganized and ripe for the taking. Germany would have her revenge.
An aide burst into the room and saluted. "General Rommel! We've gotten the first reports from Shanghai! Your bomb exploded as planned, and Goring reports that it was more powerful than originally thought."
Rommel turned, smiling grimly. "Excellent. Tell the invasion fleet to make for Shanghai immediately."
The aide shot his right arm out. "Heil Schroeder!"
Rommel smiled. "Heil Schroeder"
May 6, 2002 AD
Ten miles outside San Antonio, Texas, United States of America
San Antonio was gone. Burned to the ground by the attacking Chinese, who had also gone out of their way to slaughter the entire population of the city.
Lt. General Mike Williams was pissed. A native Texan, the mere idea of these Chinks setting foot on his state's land was enough to whip him into a rage. But now, they had destroyed the most famous building in all of Texas – The Alamo, the old mission where Texans had stood and died for Texan independence in the 19th century.
A scout ran up to the Lt. General. "Sir, we've received a message from the Chinese demanding our surrender."
Williams turned a harsh stare on the scout. "Fire artillery at the bastards."
Nervously, the scout responded, "Yes, sir" and ran off to give the order.
Williams turned and addressed his troops. "Men, today the State of Texas has lost one of her most prized monuments. The Chink bastards have burned down the Alamo!" The faces of the 1st Texan Division grew hard.
Sensing his men's rage, Williams inflamed it by paraphrasing one of the most famous quotes in the history of Texas. "The enemy has demanded surrender, I have ordered our answer to be an artillery barrage. Our flag still waves here, and it will never fall! We shall never surrender or retreat! VICTORY OR DEATH!"
As the men roared their approval, the artillery barrage began, hammering the enemy lines and blasting several tanks into scrap. The other T-90s rumbled forward, firing back at the lines where the Texans hid inside their trenches.
The American artillery fell silent as several MiG-27s raced in and bombarded the few guns. With the artillery demolished, not much hope remained for the Americans as the T-90s rumbled forward.
Suddenly, a colossal shape roared down from the sky, impacting the lead T- 90. The tanks vaporized in an immense detonation.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?" bellowed Williams, as another titanic explosion decimated the incoming tanks.
Lt. Paisley turned his binoculars to the east, where a large black dot sat on the horizon. His eyes widened. "Holy shit, sir! I think you should see this!"
Williams looked through his stronger binoculars and gasped. It was one hell of an artillery gun, bigger that the Alamo had been. It was hurling shells the size of Volkswagens, for Pete's sake!
Williams whispered in a thick voice as tears welled in his eyes. "Shiva . . ." he breathed.
Taipei, Republic of China
The German foreign minister stood up and offered his hand to his ROC counterpart.
The ROC foreign minister smiled. "The people of our Republic have the utmost gratitude to you for this agreement. Your government may begin landing its troops here as soon as possible."
The German, Martin Fritz, also smiled. "We are grateful for your assistance. We will assist you in your fight with the best Germany can offer."
The two ministers shook hands. The alliance between the German Reich and Nationalist China was now reality.
Less than two days later, German divisions began to unload from their transports onto the small island just off Red China's coast.
Their general was a man named Rommel . . .
April 30, 2002 AD
Western Texas plains, United States of America
"Damn these Texans!" The Chinese field marshal screamed in frustration. He had overseen the first invasions of California, and had been surprised by the tenacity of the American citizens there. But nothing had prepared him for Texas . . .
It seemed every citizen had some kind of gun in his vehicle, and that the crazy Americans enjoyed hunting his men down like deer. The Chinese hadn't even been able to hit any of the Texan vehicles, because the damned things were too fast!
The Chinese marshal stewed, growing angrier as he thought. These damned Americans! Why couldn't they just accept their fate?! No, these people were different. The governor of this province, a George Bush, had even urged the people to fight even if there was no hope of winning. The Marshal shook his head. If the Americans weren't such ferocious fighters, he would think they were all insane. Perhaps they were.
Some had even begun grouping themselves into commando units and calling themselves 'wolverines', which his scouts had reported was either a fictional superhero with unbreakable bones and razor-sharp metal claws, or a feisty cat-sized animal with enough strength to kill a panda. He did not like the connotations of either definition.
The marshal was snapped out of his reverie by a voice calling out in English, "WOLVERINES!!"
The sharp hiss of a rocket scorched across the sky, and the tank behind the Marshal exploded, killing its crew and blasting bits of metal and burning material across the area.
The other tanks turned their guns toward the origin of the rocket, but the firing only wasted bullets. The Texan was gone.
The veins bulged on the Marshal's forehead. This whole goddamned province would be like this! And from the advance reports on the other provinces in the southern half of the United States, it wasn't going to get any easier!
"Driver! Signal the battle group! We're turning for this city here!" the Marshal bellowed, pointing viciously at a large city on a map of this province.
The whole group, roughly 11 divisions of tanks with artillery support, turned and began advancing on San Antonio.
May 5, 2002 AD
Shanghai, People's Republic of China
The SS team slipped quietly through the city, slinking down back paths and squeezing between buildings.
The 5-member team continued their stealthy approach until they reached a tall building in the exact center of Shanghai. The team leader glanced around, and then signaled for the team to enter the building.
They climbed the stairs down to the fuel tanks below the building. There the team finally stopped.
While Goring and Heinz covered them, the other members pulled three pieces of equipment from their backpacks. Two bombs, one low power, the other high- power, and a large tank of high quality gasoline were unloaded and placed together.
The simple operation was over in 30 minutes, and 4 members of the team slipped out again, Heinz staying behind to trigger the bombs' explosion.
The SS team hid in the sewers beneath the city. At 1:00 AM, Goring signaled Heinz, and the bombs were detonated.
3 miles away, a squadron of MiG-27 fighters was patrolling the skies for any incoming rockets. The squadron leader was banking his fighter for one more pass over Shanghai when a powerful light turned night into day.
Banking hard, he yelled into his comm. "NUKE!" The MiGs scattered, flying away as fast as they could away from the blast.
They weren't fast enough.
The unbelievable shock wave shattered every piece of glass in the city and snapped metal beams close to the center building. Three of the fleeing MiGs were caught in it and smashed into building already collapsing.
Shanghai was devastated.
Taipei, ROC
Ten minutes later . . .
General Rommel was going over his maps of the landing area. If his plan went as it was supposed to, the area around Shanghai would be disorganized and ripe for the taking. Germany would have her revenge.
An aide burst into the room and saluted. "General Rommel! We've gotten the first reports from Shanghai! Your bomb exploded as planned, and Goring reports that it was more powerful than originally thought."
Rommel turned, smiling grimly. "Excellent. Tell the invasion fleet to make for Shanghai immediately."
The aide shot his right arm out. "Heil Schroeder!"
Rommel smiled. "Heil Schroeder"
May 6, 2002 AD
Ten miles outside San Antonio, Texas, United States of America
San Antonio was gone. Burned to the ground by the attacking Chinese, who had also gone out of their way to slaughter the entire population of the city.
Lt. General Mike Williams was pissed. A native Texan, the mere idea of these Chinks setting foot on his state's land was enough to whip him into a rage. But now, they had destroyed the most famous building in all of Texas – The Alamo, the old mission where Texans had stood and died for Texan independence in the 19th century.
A scout ran up to the Lt. General. "Sir, we've received a message from the Chinese demanding our surrender."
Williams turned a harsh stare on the scout. "Fire artillery at the bastards."
Nervously, the scout responded, "Yes, sir" and ran off to give the order.
Williams turned and addressed his troops. "Men, today the State of Texas has lost one of her most prized monuments. The Chink bastards have burned down the Alamo!" The faces of the 1st Texan Division grew hard.
Sensing his men's rage, Williams inflamed it by paraphrasing one of the most famous quotes in the history of Texas. "The enemy has demanded surrender, I have ordered our answer to be an artillery barrage. Our flag still waves here, and it will never fall! We shall never surrender or retreat! VICTORY OR DEATH!"
As the men roared their approval, the artillery barrage began, hammering the enemy lines and blasting several tanks into scrap. The other T-90s rumbled forward, firing back at the lines where the Texans hid inside their trenches.
The American artillery fell silent as several MiG-27s raced in and bombarded the few guns. With the artillery demolished, not much hope remained for the Americans as the T-90s rumbled forward.
Suddenly, a colossal shape roared down from the sky, impacting the lead T- 90. The tanks vaporized in an immense detonation.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?" bellowed Williams, as another titanic explosion decimated the incoming tanks.
Lt. Paisley turned his binoculars to the east, where a large black dot sat on the horizon. His eyes widened. "Holy shit, sir! I think you should see this!"
Williams looked through his stronger binoculars and gasped. It was one hell of an artillery gun, bigger that the Alamo had been. It was hurling shells the size of Volkswagens, for Pete's sake!
Williams whispered in a thick voice as tears welled in his eyes. "Shiva . . ." he breathed.