Forgotten Forbidden America | Book 7 | Highway To Hell, page 5
part #7 of Forgotten Forbidden America Series
Leaning back in his chair like the weight of the world had been taken from his shoulders, “Brandy, right now our embassy in Israel is passing an offer to China,” Fern told her. “If China agrees to pull all troops off the West Coast and from Hawaii, the Republic will stop all attacks against China and begin work on a ceasefire, but only recognizing China and not the other UN countries.”
“There are still Chinese troops in the east,” Brandy told him, like Fern didn’t know.
“Yes, and if they join in any attack at a later date, we go back to a shooting war with them, but we are also granting China safe passage to pull those troops across the Atlantic. But,” Fern paused, “the troops on the West Coast and Hawaii must start leaving within seven days and leave all heavy equipment behind. Our sources inside China predict they will go for it since India has two million troops on their border ready to invade and China is now really stressed for oil. China needs bodies back because Russia’s just chomping at the bit to invade from the north.”
For several minutes Brandy didn’t respond, but finally took a deep breath. “If it comes to a nuclear exchange, I’ll go one for one against the aggressor no matter how many we knock out of the sky,” Brandy said.
Not surprised that Brandy knew the gravity of the situation, “The military is coming in to brief you,” Fern replied, and Michelle felt sick just with the mention of nuclear exchange but was glad she wasn’t over it. Pushing back from the table, “They are coming down to swear you in and then I’m getting a detail of Rangers to take me to the hospital later this afternoon. With you here, I’m going to bed early and I’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. It will be the first in over two years.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll fly back tonight,” Michelle said. “I’ll get them to swear me in tomorrow. I really don’t want to sit in on a strategic military briefing.”
“You should because if something happens to me, Fern has you as number three and Bernard is my number three,” Brandy told her, and Michelle wanted to puke at just the thought of having to run this war from the top down.
Not saying anything but goodbye, Michelle hugged Brandy and Fern before leaving and sending the others down. “Brandy, the staff is going to brief you on our ‘little bird’,” Fern told her, making Brandy arch both eyebrows. “The ‘little bird’ is Reaper and he’s feeding us good information, but please, don’t encourage him to do more.”
For some reason, Brandy wasn’t surprised but nodded. “I’m worried he’s doing too much as it is,” Brandy replied as the others came down to swear her in as acting president of the Republic.
Chapter Four
Making a difference
As Brandy was getting sworn-in, President Gifford was walking into the West Wing conference room. All the intelligence services, along with the joint chiefs and his cabinet were there, as was Marshall. It was just this morning everyone had been notified to be at this meeting and if they weren’t, they had better be dead. Marshall was still dealing with loose ends over the death camp and there were some here he needed to talk with. He was the only one Gifford didn’t ask to come, Marshall asked if he could so those he needed to talk to couldn’t vanish into their buildings.
Usually Gifford was cocky and cheerful when he strolled in, but today there was a scowl on his face, making many nervous. Following Gifford in were soldiers Marshall had assigned to Gifford, and those who’d felt nervous were gripped with panic.
Tossing his padfolio to the head of the long table where he sat, Gifford stopped and looked at many of those seated with narrowed eyes. “Why in the hell did I watch the Republic news this morning to see them launching an aircraft carrier?!” Gifford nearly shouted. “I know damn well I wasn’t informed beforehand!”
Director Greene of the FBI and Hollow, Director of the CIA, both moved like they were going to speak, but Gifford jerked his cold eyes to them and both stopped before speaking. “The only motherfucker here who’s even mentioned ‘Republic aircraft carrier’ in his reports is General Schmidt, and he’s over the fucking army!” Gifford shouted.
“Mr. President,” Schmidt called out, getting Gifford to face him. “I’m sorry, but that’s all any of my sources ever found out four months ago, a rumor, that an aircraft carrier was nearing completion in Houston.”
Relaxing his hard gaze, “General, are you not running an entire ground war? Are you not overseeing several projects at my command?” Gifford asked.
Unsure of the line of questions, “Yes, sir,” Schmidt answered.
“When the Republic started making new tanks and opening new plants to make equipment for ground warfare, you told me months before. I didn’t have to see it on the fucking TV!” Gifford shouted, jerking his eyes down the table at the others. As Gifford finally headed to his chair, Schmidt made a mental note to give thanks to Marshall for turning over the assets he’d used inside the Republic because that was how he had found out.
Dropping into his chair, Gifford opened his padfolio. “Since none of my intelligence agencies gave me a heads-up, I compared what I learned from their news broadcast at the launch of the United Republic Sailing Ship Texas,” Gifford said then looked at his notes. “The Texas is twenty thousand long tons heavier, sixty feet longer, and a hundred feet wider than a Nimitz class. It carries ninety-four fixed wing and helicopters, and it only took the fucking Republic thirteen months to build a fucking steel ship the size of the Empire State building!” Hearing the dissertation, Marshall had to give an impressed nod because he didn’t know Gifford knew how to look up anything.
“Homeland?” Gifford barked, turning to Hubbard.
Holding up his hands like he was warding off a blow, “Mr. President, we never got solid intelligence on an aircraft carrier. I gave reports on the two cruisers and the destroyer the Republic launched this year before they were put on TV,” Hubbard blabbered out.
“Yes, you did do that,” Gifford nodded, “but you have never informed me how in the fuck they built them so fast! I’m still waiting on the three destroyers we have in our yards and working on for two years to launch!”
“Sorry, sir. That’s Navy, and I don’t know boats unless it’s a cruise liner,” Hubbard said quickly.
Turning to Dunning, “Navy?” Gifford barked.
“Mr. President, we have no idea how they built the aircraft carrier or the other ships that fast. The last time ships were built that fast in the states was during World War Two, and those carriers were tiny compared to what we launch now,” Dunning stammered out.
Glancing at his notes, “Yes, the Essex class displaced twenty-seven thousand long tons and was built in thirteen months,” Gifford said, and Marshall fought the desire to get up and pat Gifford on the back. “Using that for reference, the Republic built a carrier four times larger in the same amount of time.”
Not able to help it, Marshall cleared his throat to get Gifford’s attention. “Sir, you have to also take into account, the shipyards in Houston weren’t designed to build carriers. The workers had to build the yard first,” Marshall pointed out.
Turning his gaze down the table, “Oh, you stupid fuckers,” Gifford growled after hearing that. “CIA, intelligence is your forte.”
Hollow swallowed nervously. “Mr. President, the shipyard has huge enclosures over the docks that were built. Satellites can’t see inside and any reconnaissance craft are shot down long before they get near Houston.”
“Oh, you can get your people to run around collecting gold and wealth for your personal gain, but doing your job seems a bit much?” Gifford snapped.
Suddenly, the fear left Hollow’s eyes as he took a breath to maintain composure. “Mr. President, don’t threaten me, sir, because I have insurance, as you know. I do my job,” Hollow warned. Gifford shifted his eyes from Hollow to the soldiers at the end of the room. Both pulled pistols with suppressors out and shot the three aides that had come in with Hollow.
Hollow started panting as one soldier stepped up before placing the hot suppressor at the back of Hollow’s head. Gifford never took his eyes off Hollow as he lifted up his right hand and held it open. A secret service agent stepped up to the phone on the table and dialed a number as he handed the receiver to Gifford.
Bringing the receiver to his mouth, “Hollow,” Gifford spat out, then hung up the phone. “You were saying, Meryl?” Gifford chided.
“Mr. President,” Marshall coughed and Gifford turned to him. “Um, I really need to talk to him regarding items we need to know about that were used on a project.”
Nodding, Gifford turned back to Hollow. “Your wife, daughters, grand-daughters, and grandsons are being picked up now and taken to a visitation center. If you don’t answer the questions Marshall asks, I’ll pay the troops to gangbang them all until they die. Your son, I’m just going to throw in a hardcore prison to be beaten daily,” Gifford retorted. “Did you like my threat that time?”
Hollow was panting and never moved a muscle as the soldier kept the pistol aimed at his head. “No, you don’t have anything on me but as you now know, I don’t need anything on you,” Gifford told him. When Gifford turned to the others, he saw many pale and sweating. “Can anyone give me any information about surprises like a fucking aircraft carrier being put to sea?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Schmidt said and Gifford turned. “In five months, another carrier, Liberty, will be launched. It’s the same size as the Texas. After the broadcast this morning, I got word to our contacts and that’s what they reported.”
Turning to Dunning, “Are we going to get ships any time soon?” Gifford sang out in a tense voice. “England, Germany, France, and Italy all had ships under construction, but somehow, someway, the Republic is blowing them up.”
“Those were missiles launched from submarines!” Dunning nearly shouted. “We think most were fired by the Sea Wolf.”
“Do we get a submarine any time soon then?” Gifford asked with his voice getting tense.
“Mr. President, I reported the air wing from the Enterprise destroyed our submarine yards in Connecticut this summer,” Dunning stuttered.
“So, I don’t get any ships or submarines?” the president asked. “Can we buy some from somebody?”
One of the few who was completely relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, “Sorry, you won’t find any,” Hearst sighed. “Russia had four that I got some investors to buy. They were Foxtrot Class and retired in the eighties. All four were sunk in the Bearing Sea leaving Murmansk. They were old but we were going to use them to get supplies here, running the blockade. Right now, we’re in talks with a cartel to see if we can buy one of theirs. The two they are offering were only used to smuggle cocaine and don’t have offensive capabilities. But since all of South and Central America are fighting us, I’m not confident we’ll close the deal.”
Turning back down the table, “A civilian knew to buy submarines, but others didn’t?” Gifford grumbled. There was a knock at the door and one of the secret service agents cracked it open, then let in an aide who fast walked to Gifford. Dropping down, the aide started whispering to Gifford. Before the agent could close the door other aides tried to come in, but he stopped them. Knowing something was up, Marshall turned around and just looked at Major Bolton. Giving a nod, Bolton stood up and left the room.
“Do what?!” Gifford screamed, and three people peed in their chairs as the aide continued to whisper.
Looking down the table at the soldier still holding a gun to Hollow’s head, “Tie his ass up and throw him on the floor,” Gifford ordered and the soldier complied. “Who informed us?” Gifford asked the aide and the aide answered in a whisper. “He’s sending more information I trust?” Gifford asked and the aide nodded.
When Gifford turned, he locked eyes with Marshall and before Marshall got up to go to the president, Gifford stopped him. “No, but don’t run off,” Gifford sighed and Marshall thought Gifford aged three years in the space of that whispered conversation.
Turning to look among those at the table, “This isn’t done. If I have to ever tell one of my intelligence services how to do their job again, I’m going to cut you open on this very table,” Gifford warned as he patted the table. He waved the aide away, “It seems the Republic bombed China six hours ago in a night raid, destroying five dams and their largest oil refinery storage,” Gifford informed the room and gasps sounded from nearly everyone, including Marshall.
Holding up his hands to quiet the room down, “It seems the Republic sent terms to China offering them and only them a ceasefire,” Gifford continued. “China is to pull the troops from the West Coast and Hawaii starting immediately, leaving all heavy weapons behind. Those troops leaving won’t be targeted by the Republic Navy. The troops China has on this coast will be granted safe passage across the Atlantic to return home, but only after those troops in the west are back in China.”
Marshall and Schmidt both jumped to their feet shouting, “Mr. President!”
Looking from one to the other, “Yeah, I assume now would be a good time to launch,” Gifford sighed.
“With your permission, I can launch it in forty-eight hours,” Schmidt said and Gifford nodded. Stepping back to the wall Schmidt snatched a phone up, punching numbers.
“Where did we get the information?” Marshall asked.
“Our ambassador Tony Irwin,” Gifford answered. “He’s faxing over what he’s put together and the aide is bringing it. They have learned to come tell me information when they find out. I’ll tell them if I want more.”
For the first time, Marshall had the notion they might just lose this war. Stepping over to Hearst, “Eugene, I don’t know how, but you need to inform everyone to pony up as much money as they can. If by some miracle the Republic wins, they can kiss all their fortunes and influence gone,” Marshall told him.
“Believe me, they understand very well,” Hearst assured him. “That’s why we bought the subs. I wanted to have them leave one at a time, but the others wanted them loaded and getting supplies here.” Gifford shouted for silence and then told everyone but military staff and his cabinet to leave, but Hollow could stay on the floor tied-up. As the others nearly ran out of the room, the aide came back carrying stacks of paper.
He handed one to Gifford and then the others in the room. As Marshall scanned the pages, Bolton returned and handed Marshall several pages of handwritten notes. “My god,” Marshall gasped, seeing the projected casualties and lost infrastructure. “General, how long until you can launch the ground campaign?” Marshall asked.
Looking up from his own copy, “Whew,” Schmidt said. “As of right now, the soonest with any chance of success would be mid-December. The Republic is dug in on this side of the Mississippi River, it’s going to take a lot to push through. The future forecast put intermittent snowfall and then a hard freeze around Christmas lasting until the middle of January, then another cold spell until the beginning of March. Winter campaigns are hard and costly, but we have the equipment to establish a crossing and punch into Arkansas near Lake Village. I had my staff draw up plans with available stockpiles and we should be able to establish a thirty-mile deep crossing, then drive south to cut an army group off on the east side of the river before they can retreat across. That’s when our stockpiles are exhausted, eighty-three days of combat.”
Impressed with the number, “Yeah, winter combat,” Marshall agreed.
“Colonel,” Schmidt said. “Can I ask when you are going back out to hunt the Sin Eaters?” Schmidt hated even asking, but there was a definite increase in intensity and volume of attacks since Marshall had been on this project for the president.
“I should be done soon,” Marshall replied, glad that someone noticed he’d been making a difference with the Sin Eaters.
Hearst looked up from his pages in shock. “I never thought the Republic would do something like this,” he mumbled. “Death projections are already at three hundred million.”
“Oh, it gets better,” Marshall said, holding up the handwritten notes Bolton gave him. “India invaded an hour after the attack. In India’s defense, China started shooting first. It seemed some generals that were deployed along the border thought India was responsible for the attack and just started lobbing artillery shells over. India didn’t like that so they invaded. China is finding out India had more on the border than they did.”
“I’m so sick of fuckers from Asia,” Gifford groaned. “Marshall, you think China will agree to Fern’s terms?”
Nodding, “I would be more shocked if they didn’t,” Marshall replied. “Now they have an army that’s bigger than their own invading, millions drowning, and no fuel to fight a war. I only hope that they change their mind after Water Well kicks off. We can play the revenge card but I don’t see it happening, the homeland is under threat. If the party doesn’t deal with the catastrophe fast, they will find a revolt on their hands.”
“Anyone got any ideas?” Hearst asked.
“Well, yeah,” Marshall answered. “We need to get everyone in the UN and our ambassador to offer India whatever they want to stop. We get them to stop, then China can concentrate on responding to this disaster. We need to keep China from descending into a civil war. The Republic has already proven they can ship massive quantities to anyone fighting a UN member. I’m stating now, England is a lost cause.”
“There will be a delegation landing in Delhi tomorrow,” Hearst stated. “You think India will stop their attack?”
“Yes. They really don’t want to wage a war but when pushed, India fights. I mean, look how long it took them to overrun Pakistan when this started. Now they have a huge army and China really wants to stop the shooting. I wouldn’t be surprised if the generals who ordered the attack on India haven’t already been pulled to the rear and shot,” Marshall answered.
Getting up, Gifford looked at Hollow tied-up on the floor. “Do I want to know what you’re asking him?”
