Destructible Times
We are going to have to act, if we want to live in a different world.
-Dr. Charles Olivetti, UN Secretary of Global Security, remarks at the signing of the Global Defense Act
September 15th, 1995 - New York City, United States of America - 0900 hours
UN Headquarters had all the air conditioning Captain James Solomon could have prayed for, along with soft wheat-coloured carpets and a sweeping view of Turtle Bay, but he didn't feel much more comfortable here than he had in Egypt. Even here, home in the United States, he was still on a battlefield. It was just one where skirmishes were fought with memos and budgets instead of bombs and bullets. And Solomon knew he was squarely in the crosshairs.
Looking out the waiting room's window, he couldn't help but linger on the yawning gap in the New York City skyline where the Chrysler Building had once stood. When the GLA's truck bomb brought down 77 floors of Art Deco skyscraper on New York's head in 1993, they hadn't just maimed the city and enraged America. They had also wounded the Solomon family.
"They killed more than two thousand people, Jim," Ben had said, voice flat and harsh on the phone back home to Detroit. "Our people. Americans. You're really going to just keep helping the UN sign treaties and make speeches after that?"
James hadn't known what to say to that. His big brother had gotten the last word, as he had so many times before. And so Ben the loyal all-American hero had gone off to join Operation Stormbringer in hunting down the GLA worldwide, while his weaselly little brother Jim stayed with the UN and accepted that his name was mud within the American military he had devoted most of his life to.
Absently smoothing a crease in his tan uniform, Solomon tried to focus his attention on the news magazine in his hand. He skimmed over headlines like 'Meteorite Impact in Italy Was Harmless, Confirm Scientists' or 'Chinese Military on Alert as GLA Threatens 'Punishment',' and carefully avoided anything to do with Egypt. But it was hard to avoid thinking about the mission as he waited outside the central office of the Global Defence Agency.
The press was calling it the 'Sinai Massacre,' the worst single day for GDA peacekeeping in five years. It had been immediately followed by the curt expulsion of peacekeepers from Egypt, one of the UN's most high-profile missions. People wanted to know what Carson, Singh, Rahman and Omar had died for. Including their families, and their countries' governments. They also wanted to know why they should risk any more of their people dying under UN command in flawed, under-resourced missions like Sinai.
The Security Council was calling for someone's head. The idiot who had been in command would do nicely. Solomon expected that he was here to have his career formally ended for his failure.
The door opened, and the General's prim, bespectacled, graying admin poked her head out. Her words carried the accent of her native Ghana.
"General Sheppard will see you now, Captain."
"Thank you, Grace."
Even if he was about to lose everything, it cost nothing to be polite. He set down the news magazine, and went inside to meet the head of UN peacekeeping worldwide.
Brigadier General Mark Jamison Sheppard sat behind his big oak desk in a perfectly-pressed green uniform, looking like central casting's idea of the all-American white male Midwestern military officer: square-jawed, square-headed, square-shouldered, with clipped brown hair that was cut square in the back. His features were only remarkable in how calm they always were. Solomon had always detected a note of irony to Sheppard's buttoned-down presentation: few were more fervently devoted to the UN's ideals than General Sheppard, or more willing to explore radical measures to advance the mission of global peace.
"Captain," he greeted Solomon. "Take a seat."
"Thank you sir." Solomon cast a look around the office as he lowered himself into what felt like an execution chair.
Every corner of Sheppard's desk was filled with screens and papers, immaculately organized and arranged without a hint of clutter. A fax machine could be heard whirring in some cabinet underneath its surface. The General was flanked by two flags in the corners of the room: the blue-white flag of the UN, showing a united world cradled by the laurels of peace, and the gold-silver flag of GDA, showing an eagle swooping in to defend that peace. There was no sign anywhere of an American flag.
The wall behind the General was covered with handshake photos: Sheppard with President Fielding of the USA, with Secretary Olivetti of the Security Council, with Prime Minister Weatherell of the United Kingdom. A job like Sheppard's involved a great deal more shaking hands than soldiering, but Solomon knew better than to dismiss him as a political creature. There had been a time when 'MJ' Sheppard was regarded as one of the most daring young tacticians in the American military, and the terror of Mexican guerillas.
"First of all, I just want to say how sorry I am for the loss of your troops and everything you've been through," Sheppard said, meeting Solomon's eyes. "They were all damn good people put in a bad situation by their orders. And believe me, I'll make sure they're remembered as heroes."
"Thank you sir."
Solomon said the words reflexively, robotically, looking straight through Sheppard's head. He had heard and said 'sorry' so many times with so many people that those two syllables had lost meaning for him. The people who had blamed him- including Carson's grandmother, screaming raw over the phone with tears in her voice- were easier somehow, their anger more honest, more real.
"Secondly…" Sheppard folded his hands in front of him on the desk. "I need to know whether your OpSec was compromised at any point. Did your team know that the intel came from Agent Delphi? Or that he suspected chemical research at the objective?"
"No sir," Solomon said, unable to keep stinging bitterness out of his mouth. "None of them knew the real reason we were out there was because Agent Delphi reported a toxic hazard. Toyama still doesn't know. As for Kassad, the GLA, and whoever's backing them… maybe they might know something. But you'd have to ask them, sir."
If Sheppard was displeased by Solomon's attitude, he didn't show it. He just nodded.
"Very good, Captain. We've been trying to follow up with Agent Delphi, but either he's gone dark, or someone finally got to him."
He opened a yellow folder on his desk, tapped a shortcut on his keyboard, and continued.
"I read your report, it's quite thorough. To be frank, it sounds like there was nothing you could have done. That ambush hit you out of nowhere, probably from a camouflaged tunnel network nearby - the GLA loves those things, builds them everywhere. You were massively outnumbered, outflanked and outgunned. And according to this…" he glanced at the folder. "You singlehandedly killed at least five terrorists with a submachine gun. Lieutenant Toyama's calling you a hero."
"The Lieutenant deserves plenty of credit herself sir," Solomon was quick to say. "She put herself at risk multiple times trying to save members of our team. Including me."
"I agree," Sheppard said. "Unfortunately, the Japanese don't seem to see it that way. Being associated with a disastrous mission is bad for her career, especially if she keeps defending the man who was in charge."
Solomon set his jaw. "That isn't fair."
"No, it's not," Sheppard agreed readily. He sighed and spread his hands. "I'm sorry Captain, but my hands are tied by the Global Security Council. I had no choice but to pull you from active duty, pending an official inquiry into the Sinai Massacre. The good news is that the way UN bureaucracy works, you probably won't have to testify before next year at the earliest… but in the meantime, I have to keep you off the board. Officially."
The General's phrasing perked something in Solomon. It might have been hope. "Officially, sir?"
Sheppard seemed not to hear the question. "I want to know what you think, Captain. Be frank, now. Do you think you're to blame for what happened in that desert? And yes, you have permission to speak freely."
Solomon took a deep breath. "General, it may not be my fault, but it was my responsibility. My people, my mission, my command. If I'm being frank? I should have threatened to resign before I ever took people on such a FUBAR assignment. If I had, my team might still be alive."
He felt anger tensing his features as he spoke. He tried to keep it in check, even as his voice swelled.
"We had no weapons, no backup, no hazard gear, an obsolete transport, and the enemy knew just where to hit us. I think we were set up to fail from the beginning. And frankly sir, you share in that responsibility. The orders came from your desk."
Sheppard let the words hang there a moment, making sure Solomon was done. Then he nodded. He even smiled, like Solomon had gotten a question right on a test. But when he replied, his voice was firm and unquestionable.
"Let me tell you something, Captain. If you had resigned, Sergeant Singh, may he rest in peace, would have been placed in command of the exact same mission. And I would have authorized that mission knowing full well it was, as you put it, FUBAR. Because the UN can't afford to get a tip on chemical weapons in Egypt and not follow up on it… and we couldn't bring in outside help without risking blowing up the peace process. The Pentagon would probably have just dropped an airstrike on the site, and don't get me started on how the Allies or the Reds might have reacted. Do you want to hear why we had to deploy you without proper resources?"
"No need, sir. I know the constraints the UN operates under."
Solomon spoke stiffly. It was hard to reconcile the realities of budgets and politics with the lifeless bodies of Rahman and Singh and Carson and Omar, but he understood all too well. Sheppard commanded all of 70 000 peacekeepers across the entire globe, many of them civilian volunteers, contractors, or police officers rather than professional soldiers. Those peacekeepers were lightly armed, underfunded, and usually provided with scraps of secondhand equipment while governments kept the best assets for their own forces.
Peacekeeping missions served at the pleasure of host governments that were often some combination of unstable, brutal, or corrupt, and those missions were completely dependent on the support of casualty-averse, budget-conscious politicians back home. Despite this, the UN was expected to save lives and prevent violence in complex, chaotic conflict zones across the planet, from Cyprus to Indonesia.
So of course Sheppard hadn't been able to give Solomon a helicopter, or a tank column, or a recon drone, or even rifles. It didn't matter. His people were still dead. He didn't say as much, but he saw in Sheppard's eyes that the General understood.
"Captain, I never wanted to put your team in that position. But Delphi's intel was sketchy, and there was political pressure to avoid offending the locals with an armed mission that might have turned up nothing. There was obviously a leak in the Egyptian government, leading to the ambush. So here we are."
"Here we are." Solomon echoed the words hollowly, then shook his head. "Sir, you've read my report. There's something more going on here, and I believe 'Prince' Kassad is involved. We need to follow up on him."
Sheppard nodded again, and again changed the subject.
"Let me ask you something else, Captain. Why are you still here with the UN? I'm sure Uncle Sam would love to have you back with Special Forces, helping hunt the GLA."
Solomon had the chance to say what he'd always wished he'd said to Ben. "Probably the same reason you're still behind that desk, sir. We both know that this Agency represents humanity's best hope for something bigger and better than any one country or government. A united world. That idea needs people willing to serve."
Sheppard gave a small smile at his response. "Couldn't have said it better myself."
It had cost them both. Most officers with Solomon's record and qualifications would have at least made Major by now, but sticking with the UN after New York got hit had torpedoed his career with the USA military. And now the UN looked likely to hang him out to dry as well.
Solomon knew that Sheppard had it worse. A Captain choosing the UN over his country was one thing, but a Brigadier General? Friends at West Point, people Solomon respected, had compared Sheppard to Robert E. Lee… and that had been before the Chrysler fell. The Pentagon could have ordered Sheppard to quit his UN posting at any time, but Solomon suspected they didn't want him at this point. He also suspected that Sheppard would resign from the military as publicly and embarrassingly as possible before he abandoned his agency.
"There is something more important than country," Sheppard continued. "And that's humanity. Twenty years ago, fighting in Mexico taught me some hard lessons. Now, I know that humanity requires seeing the bigger picture."
The General touched a button on his desk, and Solomon startled slightly as the wall behind him split open, the panels and hanging photographs sliding aside into hidden recesses to reveal a large electronic screen displaying a map of the Earth, humanity's countries and continents outlined in white lines against a black screen.
"Take a look, Captain," said Sheppard. "See the world through my eyes for a minute."
He hit a shortcut on his keyboard, and white text flashed across the screen: CORRELATION OF FORCES. The countries started to change colour, filling in the power blocs that dominated the world, flashing statistics alongside them to show estimates of economic, political, scientific and military power. Blinking orange dots marked hot spots and conflict zones across the globe: Egypt, Aldastan, Yugoslavia, and many more.
They were all factions and locations that Solomon was familiar with, but he cleared his vision and tried to see the map with fresh eyes. He knew that Sheppard was trying to make an important point.
Most of Central Asia's post-Soviet republics were a solid, vivid green, reflecting the open secret that the GLA effectively ran that part of the world: the legacy of anti-Russian rebellions and banditry during the postwar breakup of the Soviet Union. The insurgents had been hailed as freedom fighters back then, before they made their war of liberation into a global cause. The only Central Asian holdouts were Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, clinging to dictatorial stability with the aid of American military force.
Speckles of green also spread across the Middle East and the northern half of Africa, along with parts of South Asia, representing confirmed or suspected GLA cells. The extremist network's worldwide influence had swelled in recent years, since American breakthroughs in cold fusion and Russian advances in Tesla power began threatening the role of fossil fuels in the global energy supply. The new clean energy sources promised a brighter future for Earth, yet they had pushed some oil-dependent states into the darkness of economic and political instability. The turmoil had left throngs of despairing people receptive to the GLA's message of rage and violence.
"GLA's been making big moves," Sheppard said, pointing at the green areas of the map. "Since they crawled out of the Soviet Union's wreck, they've clawed their way to the top of the terrorist threat list. But only Washington has gone all-in against them. The Allies… they've got other problems."
Most of Europe, aside from always-neutral Switzerland, was coloured the same deep blue associated with the Allied Forces since they faced Stalin in the Second Great War. Beyond Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and the United Korean Republic formed the Allies' Pacific front, while Canada, Argentina, and Brazil represented them in the Americas. Turkey was also blue, representing the Allies' foothold in the Middle East, though Solomon didn't know if their government could survive another GLA coup attempt. The Allies were sworn to defend democratic and capitalist states worldwide from aggression, through any means and at any cost.
"Impressive reach," Sheppard remarked. "And they've still got the Chronosphere, plus some other tricks up their sleeves. But without the USA as their big stick, they're outgunned and they know it. That makes them scared. And scared people do dangerous things."
The United States had been blue for decades, but the fallout of the failed Mexican War had strained the alliance, and then the attack on New York had broken it completely. Solomon had watched spellbound, along with millions of other Americans, as the newly-inaugurated President Fielding declared that if the Allied Forces wouldn't help destroy the GLA, then the USA would stand and act alone. The United States had left the Treaty of Athens soon after.
Solomon admired the Allied legacy of resistance against Stalin, but he also knew they weren't blameless in the rift between America and Europe. The Allies had pushed the Mexican intervention to the hilt in the name of anti-Communism, enabling the worst excesses of President Ackerman's administration. In the wake of the American withdrawal and the collapse of the Juárez regime, it had become clear that the USA had wasted blood, treasure, and moral authority in an unwinnable war… one that had been championed by their European allies.
Earth's most powerful nation was now coloured teal on the map, with dots of teal representing overseas bases in such bastions of freedom as the Philippines, Uzbekistan, Pakistan, Djibouti, and Saudi Arabia. Those bases hosted the Special Forces soldiers, drones, and aircraft that had been targeting GLA cells and leaders as part of 'Operation Stormbringer' for the past two years, striking where and when the Pentagon deemed necessary, never minding the wishes of local populations.
"Never thought I'd see the day the Alliance broke," Solomon admitted. "I read a report speculating that the White House might even team up with Beijing against the GLA."
"I read the same report," said Sheppard. "Now that would raise some blood pressure in London! The WSA holds enough cards over them as it is."
Much of the map was bright, glaring red, representing the reason that the Allied Forces had refused to commit troops against the GLA. As the French President had slowly explained to Congress in his infamous 'Childish Eagle' speech shortly before the US left the alliance, the Allies viewed the GLA as mere criminals, and a dangerous distraction. To Europe, the true threat would always be the World Socialist Alliance, more simply known as 'the Reds.'
Since the WSA first formed between Russia and China, the Socialist bloc had grown to include client states in South and Central America, Eastern Europe, and the Middle East. According to their state-run news services, these nations cooperated for 'shared humanitarian progress and peacekeeping', and were only expanding their militaries to defend themselves against 'imperialist aggression.' Despite Allied efforts - including the USA's disastrous eight-year involvement in the Second Mexican Revolution, and the faltering colonial wars of shrinking European empires - the Red Star had simply kept ascending.
Solomon had often wondered whether old Gunter von Esling had died of sheer grief in 1972, falling to a heart attack the very day then-Premier Romanov declared that Russia's humiliation was over and that the time for rearmament had come. In Romanov's masterstroke, the day that the Kremlin renounced the Treaty of Athens was the same day that China announced that they had secretly developed nuclear weapons and signed a pact to protect Russia from any aggression. It must have been crushing for von Esling, the onetime hero of the Allies, seeing his old enemy rising again after so much had been sacrificed to cage the Russian Bear.
The news had stunned the world and transformed the strategic map, igniting the Cold War. A superpower standoff that had now loomed over the planet for over twenty years.
"And last but never least…" Sheppard watched with Solomon as the final handful of nations filled in gray, representing those who remained neutral in the world's strife. A scattering of yellow specks represented UN peacekeeping bases and missions in places like Japan, Colombia, Kenya… none of them superpowers.
Sheppard let the map hang there for a moment before he spoke again. "I'm showing you this so you understand the stakes, Captain. Allies against Socialists, the GLA against everyone, and the USA isolated on their own warpath. Mix in nuclear bombs, biological and chemical weaponry, and even rumours about satellite armaments being developed here in the States..."
He paused for a moment, shaking his head.
"Earth is a giant tinderbox, with six billion people all competing to wave the biggest match they can. GDI's the only player wanting a fire extinguisher, but right now we can't even afford one."
Solomon frowned. "GDI, sir?"
The General gave a small smile, the smile of a poker player with good news about their hand. "Change is coming. The Global Security Council is passing the Global Defense Act next month, and I can tell you that our Agency will be restructured into the Global Defense Initiative. It's the first step toward having the resources and authority to actually make a difference in the world. Which is where you come in."
He paused, then leaned forward toward Solomon. "How would you like to get back in the field, Captain?"
Solomon tried to keep the hope contained, even as it tried to leap out of his chest and onto his face. His response was carefully neutral. "I thought I was off duty, sir. Officially."
"Officially." Sheppard slid something across the desk to Solomon: a black folder with no title except for the swooping eagle emblem of GDA - or GDI - and the words TOP SECRET stamped on it in white.
"Unofficially, I'm about to let you in on one of the UN's most guarded secrets. This conversation does not leave this room."
That certainly had Solomon's attention. He nodded, then opened the folder and started scanning the maps and photos and words within as Sheppard explained.
"There was an idea. To bring together the best operatives from countries around the globe, and train them to work together, serving the world first and their countries second. A multinational special forces team, completely deniable and outside regular channels, able to do whatever was necessary to protect world peace."
"Special Operations Group Echo, Black Ops Nine," Solomon read aloud. "I'm seeing personnel from the United States, Russia, France, operations in Haiti and Peru during the 80s… you actually made this thing work?"
"No," Sheppard said grimly. "The team never got past the trial phase. Too many personalities and politics in the mix, with half a dozen governments pulling the team in two dozen different directions. Add in some wet works that went bad in Peru, and the UN decided to pull the plug and bury the record before it could become a public embarrassment."
He shook his head. "Damn shame. If that team had succeeded, GDI might already be a reality and we wouldn't be trying to save the world on a shoestring budget."
"But all of this-" Solomon glanced at the map. "Makes you want to try it again." He kept reading, and raised an eyebrow at the black folder. "Seems there's already some classified funding attached to this name."
Sheppard nodded. "All I can give you is a plane and a chance. You're radioactive right now, and if any of this were to go public, I'd have to disavow you and the whole op. Still, I hate to see a good officer dragged down - and what happened in Egypt stinks to heaven. So put together a team and get to the bottom of it."
"I want Toyama," Solomon said instantly. After what they'd been through in Egypt, there was no one else he'd rather have at his side for this. And he expected they would need a good medic.
"You'll get her," Sheppard promised. "If you check the back of the folder, you'll see a short list of potential candidates we've kept updated."
Solomon flipped the pages and raised an eyebrow. "Boris? I've heard of him. He's supposed to be a maniac."
"The best often are," Sheppard said dryly. "And after Egypt, I think you're the right person to find them, lead them, and prove to the world what GDI can really do. What do you think?"
There was no hesitation and no doubt. Solomon finished reading the file on 'Special Operations Group Echo, Black Ops Nine', then flipped the folder closed and looked up at the General.
"I think the name needs to be shorter."
A/N: The Chrysler Building's retroactive demise continues C&C's long tradition of landmark abuse. The premise of a truck bomb in a skyscraper in 1993 is taken from the real-life bombing of the World Trade Center that same year. Operation Stormbringer's name is taken from a mission in the USA's Generals campaign, and is obviously inspired by real-life post-9/11 counterterrorism deployments.
The author attempted to balance maintaining story momentum with giving the reader sufficient information about the global situation in Echo Nine's version of the 90s. The TL;DR version of the worldbuild for those who want it:
-There's a Generals-style terrorist campaign by the GLA. The GLA emerged from the chaos of the Soviet Union breaking up in the 1950s, beginning as an anti-Russian rebellion before transforming into a globalized network exporting their insurgency across the globe. E9-verse has made breakthroughs in clean energy that are good news for Earth, but bad news for oil-rich nations, which has contributed to the GLA's rise in the Middle East.
-The USA has split from the Allies over whether to fight the GLA and is waging their own counterterrorism operations against the GLA after the attack on New York in 1993.
-There's a Cold War between the Allies and the World Socialist Alliance from the Red Alert series. Like in Red Alert 2, Premier Romanov eventually re-armed Russia, and in this timeline forged an alliance with China that forms the core of the WSA. Also as in Red Alert 2, Mexico is a member of the WSA. The United States attempted to intervene in their revolution with strong Allied backing, resulting in a failed counter-insurgency war that helped strain the alliance to its eventual breaking point.
-In the background, the factions from the Tiberium universe are secretly gaining power as the world changes. Nod is manipulating affairs in the shadows, while GDI is currently a fraction of its potential strength.
Characterizing General Sheppard here was interesting. There's a contrast between his strait-laced depiction in Tiberium Dawn, and the fact that this General outwitted Kane through an audacious bluff that involved abandoning key bases and deceiving his own commanders so that GDI would look weaker than it really was. 'MJ' Sheppard puts up a boring front, but is quietly the wildest motherfucker in the UN, which is why he's handing a disgraced Captain a defunct black ops team and letting him off the leash here.
A little extra context on the much-mentioned Treaty of Athens. The Treaty that ended the Second Great War was signed in what remained of Athens, honouring how badly Greece suffered under Soviet occupation. Much of the postwar world was drafted in this Treaty: the occupation and breakup of the former Soviet Union, the installation of Alexander Romanov as puppet dictator of Russia, the establishment of the UN's new 'Global Defence Agency' to help keep the peace, the worldwide prohibition of nuclear weaponry (which has long since been breached by China), and formalizing the Allied Forces for mutual defense and security among democratic powers. At the time of Echo Nine, the world order created by the Treaty of Athens is splitting apart and is on the verge of another great war.
Over the next couple chapters we will leave Solomon's perspective to see the world situation from inside the boots of the expert commandos who may join Echo Nine… starting with a look at the Russian point of view.
One final note: Solomon's going to wish he'd paid a lot more attention to that news article about a meteorite impact in Italy...
Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!