The CIA chief flashed General Bremer a smile of pure wickedness. “Actually, we do. It’s quite simple. After what we did to the Chinese in the Gulf of Alaska, Sacramento knows damn well our deterrent is not a bluff. Any attack would be met by massive retaliation. Where’s the advantage for them in going nuclear?”
General Bremer searched the room. No one would meet his gaze. Not even the president. “Sir, is that correct? Even if they struck first, would you really detonate nukes on American soil? You would destroy American cities?”
The president absentmindedly thumbed through the operation plan and avoided any eye contact. “We’re wasting time with all this ‘what if’ speculation. Don’t you think we have enough pressing problems to deal with? Now, what about a well-targeted decapitation strike with conventional weapons? Target the very homes of URA leaders. Worked on the Chinese.”
The typically combative secretary of defense jumped in while Bremer stood speechless. Her tone was full of surprising reasonableness.
“Sir, do remember: There’s no head to cut off the enemy. The URA is a large movement with broad-based support. The exact opposite threat as China and their centralized cabal of opportunistic leaders. Let’s say we could somehow take out Salazar and all the senior URA staff in a lightning strike. Well, then what? Even if their make-believe government collapsed and their traditional army gave up, which I’m not sure they would, millions of armed civilians would go on fighting. You said it yourself, ‘Too much blood has been shed.’
“Look at what happened in Iraq, or in Florida, when the enemy’s command structure crumbled before the people believed they were defeated. The only way to avoid fighting an insurgency for generations down the road is to destroy not only the enemy’s combat power, but also their very will to resist. Decisively in the field. There are no shortcuts. We have to crush them so completely that the rebels have no more hope.”
The president skimmed a separate report full of casualty figures from the diehards in Florida and religious fanatics throughout the South. He sat back down. “Ms. Hewson, for once I agree with you. General Bremer, how soon can we be ready?”
The general mumbled something without taking his eyes of a portrait of Lincoln on the wall.
“General?”
Secretary of Defense Mary Hewson leaned forward and answered for the soldier, nipples hardening with excitement. Trillions of dollars in equipment was about to be thrown into harm’s way. If the rebels were even half as ready as they assumed, much of that would soon need replacement. All that money to be made… she tried not to moan too hard with pleasure.
“Ohhhh, we’ve been ready for a long time, Mr. President. Let’s call it just before dawn tomorrow?”
That was it. The Grand Campaign kicked off with a reluctant shrug from General Bremer and a nod from the president. That’s all it took to change history.
Hours later, Hewson relaxed alone in her DC penthouse. Sipping a $500 dollar bottle of red wine, she pleasured herself while watching after-market trading quadruple her stock options’ value. A world away, half a million waiting federal soldiers received new orders. For operational security purposes, even though the whole world knew already, the Pentagon put every unit under a communications blackout. Not a single soldier would have the chance to speak to their families one last time.
The connection was slow and the sound terrible, but Jessica didn’t care. From the other end of the Skype session that cocky voice still made her tingle. “Hey beautiful! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Jessica lost her train of thought under Brown’s roguish grin. He sat shirtless in some tent somewhere, a sheen of sweat glistening from his smooth chest. He snagged a t-shirt from off-screen. “Sorry baby. I was finishing up a workout when they told me you called.”
“Hmmm….” Jessica pouted as he dressed, but then giggled. They were both closer to 40 than 30, but that man could still make her as fluttery as a teenager.
“Hey Johnny. Looks like you’re in the field somewhere. I hope you’re safe.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, we’re deployed, but you know I can’t say where. Especially not to someone in the media.”
Damn, does he always have to be so suspicious? “That’s not what I was… never mind. I’m just glad you’re not fighting. I wish things could stay that way.”
Brown gave her that soul-melting smile of his. “Me too. Believe me, I really want that, but this peace won’t last. From the warning orders we’ve received, something big is going down soon. Anyway, how are things in California?”
She was under no such restrictions to keep her whereabouts secret. “Oh, my genius network insisted I get in the middle of things. I’m at the front and wishing I was back in Sacramento.”
Panic gripped Brown’s face. “You’ve got to leave Kansas now! Don’t ask me for details, but get the hell out of there. Please!”
His genuine fear shocked Jessica. This was a new side of him. “Hon, relax. I’m in Colorado. Embedded with some URA headquarters.”
“Thank God. Then you’re far from danger. Wait, why would they send you to some backwater unit? Not that I’m complaining, but who did you piss off?” The screen froze briefly so she missed his laugh. She couldn’t tell he was joking.
“I’ll have you know this is where all the action is. The bulk of the URA army is camped out around Denver. There are only a handful of units along the border. Don’t you watch television?”
Brown’s confused frown deepened. “Actually, they try to block all programming from out west nowadays. Claim everything beamed our way is either propaganda or misinformation. So the rumors are true? The traitors are really massing for an invasion?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “They aren’t bad people. I still think this whole war is ridiculous, but these so-called ‘traitors’ are just terrified of the president. They call people like you murderers and say they’re just trying to defend themselves.”
Brown cut short a hundred bitter remarks. “Whatever. Who gives a damn? I don’t want to talk politics. Let’s talk about you and me. I said some dumb things before and I’m sorry. Cut me some slack. I don’t have much experience with real women. Let’s face it, how many men are truly wise in their handling of women? In all of history you can count them on the fingers of one thumb. Can you forgive me? I’m really hoping there’s a future for us when this craziness is over.”
Jessica’s mouth hung open. A little mist choked her eyes. Who was this man and what had he done with her boyfriend? There was so much to say. “John, I wish we weren’t having this conversation over the internet, but I—”
An unseen voice screamed into her lover’s tent. “Sergeant Major! New op-order coming down. The colonel wants you ASAP. No shit. We’re kicking off in a few hours. We’re finally doing it!”
Jessica gripped the computer tight. “Bullshit!”
Brown turned back to his screen in time to catch her curse. “No Jessy, I’m serious. I’m really sorry. Wish you didn’t feel that way. For whatever it’s worth, I love you.”
Jessica closed her eyes in frustration, but kept talking. “No, I meant the attack! Of course I love you too! I’m sorry about all….” Opening her eyes, she growled at the blank screen she was talking to. She frantically retried the call, but received a “connection restricted error.”
No technical failure. This was an intentional communications blackout.
The much-anticipated invasion of the rebel lands, or states loyal to the legitimate Federal Government depending on your version of history, ran into stiffer resistance from protestors and reporters than gunfire. Just before daybreak and without any softening up strikes, close to 800,000 federal troops surged west along a 300-mile front. D-day stretching from Omaha to Kansas City.