LEVIN: Are you finally considering my suggestion, that we make peace with China?
HAROLD: Under the condition of their removal of their army in Mexico, and with the proviso of Colonel Valdez’s accession to the Mexican presidency, yes, I could accept that.
LEVIN: You mean Valdez’s elevation through a national election?
HAROLD: I mean that he becomes the president. How he sugarcoats his rise doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.
ALAN: You raise interesting points. The key is this. Is Hong finally ready to negotiate and agree to our terms?
HAROLD: There are no signs that he is. Thus, we must increase the tempo of our invasion of his country.
LEVIN: It is my understanding that Premier Konev is reluctant to incur massive Slavic casualties. The old GD equipment—the AI Kaisers and drones—have also taken incredible losses. How much longer will the Russians attack? They desire Mongolia and Manchuria. I very much doubt they plan to drive deeper into China.
HAROLD: You talk about the AI Kaisers as if they were human. Machines don’t take losses. They are destroyed.
LEVIN: Please forgive me my incorrect verbiage.
HAROLD: There’s no need to get touchy, Doctor.
LEVIN: My point is that Konev isn’t likely to send massive reinforcements to Manchuria to engage in great battles of attrition. Besides, the Europeans are running out of Kaisers and don’t plan to build more. Konev might be satisfied with his present conquests. If we’re to convince him to do more, someone other than his Russians will have to take the brunt of losses needed for us to continue an offensive deeper into China.
HAROLD: You’ve hit the mark of the matter and the need for this meeting.
MCGRAW: I hope you’re not suggesting America sends more soldiers to China. I only agreed to help the Russians, not take over the brunt of the war on our shoulders.
HAROLD: Who else besides us has the resolve to go on to victory?
MCGRAW: That isn’t what we’re talking about, but rather, American losses, American dead.
HAROLD: Gentlemen, we must defeat the Chinese. I hope no one here questions that. We have allies now. We must use them. We must entice and prod Konev into sending more Russians, Poles and Ukrainians into the fray. Together, we can smash China’s home front and force Hong to sue for peace. This isn’t about conquering the entire country, but showing Hong and his toadies the hopelessness of his position.
MCGRAW: How will we entice Konev into this?
HAROLD: There is only one method that I know of. We must send more troops ourselves and show him he has a faithful ally.
MCGRAW: And if the Chinese attack out of Mexico into Texas?
HAROLD: You will stop them as you told us.
ALAN: Which troops do we send into the Manchurian meat grinder?
HAROLD: If we’re going to win fast, we have to use the best we have.
ALAN: With Behemoths?
HAROLD: No. Those must remain in Texas and New Mexico to face the Chinese here.
MCGRAW: Why not send some Militia troops?
HAROLD: They never signed up for that, General. They’re only for use in America. Besides, I think you’ll agree that…
16 July 2042
Festival of Lights
Participants: Harold, Militia General Williamson.
HAROLD: This is in the strictest confidence, General.
WILLIAMSON: You can count on me, sir.
HAROLD: I know I can. We can no longer speak in the Rose Garden. I believe someone has planted listening devices superior to what my people can find.
WILLIAMSON: Would you like me to work on discovering the culprit?
HAROLD: That’s a good idea. You can begin once you carry out this assignment. (Long pause.) We’re going to send another draft of soldiers to China. I managed to convince the others to transport another one hundred thousand Americans in the first wave, and two hundred thousand in the second.
WILLIAMSON: Those are large numbers, sir.
HAROLD: It’s a political risk, I know. What I want from you are lists. We’re going to continue to send the politically untrustworthy to Manchuria. If they die, they die—as long as they kill enough Chinese to bring Hong to his senses. We must get rid of the Chinese Army in Mexico, now more than ever.
WILLIAMSON: Do you wish me to speak with Premier Konev again?
HAROLD: Yes, that would be wise…
End of transcript #2
While under her blanket in bed, with a strong scent of roses around her, Anna clicked off her flashlight. Before putting the tablet under her pillow, she removed the chip. She put the chip in her mouth, got up and went to the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet, she blew her nose, spitting the chip into the tissue. She dropped that between her legs and flushed.
Afterward, she lay down, thinking. Harold culled the military of the patriots. That was clear. Just as clear, Levin didn’t like what Harold did. The CIA director was building a conspiracy against the most powerful of the three dictators. She wondered if Levin had spoken to McGraw or Alan about this. Or would those two want the patriots out of the way as Harold did?
She didn’t envy those soldiers, nor did she believe they could conquer China, even with Russia’s help and even with nearly five million Chinese soldiers out of the way in Mexico. The country was too big and the numbers too great for conquerors to establish garrisons everywhere while the rest finished the battles.
America was quickly becoming enmeshed in a war it could never win.
What can I do about it?
Levin had taken a risk coming to her for a reason. Yes, he must want her to wake and rehabilitate David if she could. How could she, though? That was the question. Her eyelids kept lowering, shrinking her area of vision, until she fell asleep thinking about it.
Jake panted. He clutched Cowboy’s right arm and Chet had his left. They dragged the wounded soldier. Enemy mortar shells slammed against the ground, blowing geysers of shrapnel, rubble and dirt. Jake heard hissing past his head and couldn’t believe nothing hit him.
Then the back of Cowboy’s neck spurted blood. His helmeted head dipped far too forward, practically dragging against the ground.
By unspoken agreement, Jake and Chet dropped him, and they both flattened. More shells screamed down, slamming against the earth. Pieces of rubble rained like hail.
“Over there!” Chet shouted.
Jake scrambled on his hands and knees, panting harder than ever. He crawled and threw himself behind a masonry wall. Chet did likewise.
The mortar attack continued another several minutes. Then it stopped, and an eerie silence descended.
“Think they’re trying to trick us?” Chet asked.
“Don’t know,” Jake said.
It was July 17, and the war had changed. For one thing, regular Chinese soldiers fought in the front lines. The word Jake heard was they came from overseas—not from Mexico, but from Japan, Indonesia and other Asian countries. And he couldn’t swear to it, but it seemed as if the regular Chinese people had been issued with revolvers and rifles. The civilians didn’t attack with just hand grenades anymore.
“Now,” Jake said. He rose to his knees and laid his assault rifle on the concrete wall. Sure enough, some enemy soldiers dashed hunched over toward them. Jake pulled the trigger.
The enemy dropped. He didn’t think he’d hit any. These boys knew to stay low to the ground.