“How dare they attack us!” the Chairman yelled, putting down the phone and looking at the people around him. “We give our allies the best opportunity to join us and destroy their enemy and they turn on us like a pack of dogs!”
“Who is turning on us, Comrade Chairman?” asked Wang, deeply skeptical that the chairman knew the correct answer.
“It must be the North Koreans,” he replied, reaching for the fourth red button and pushing it without hesitation.
The fourth red button shut down every electronic system in Zedong Electronics’ allied countries. Just like the rest of the world, every civilian, military, and government machine using an electronic-control system went off the air within 30 seconds. The termination frequency was relayed to the parts, or whole electrical units in the millions of electronic parts especially made and sold to these countries.
In North Korea, the lights went out—the highly sophisticated electronics aboard its newest guns, tanks, and the dozens of aircraft bombing the northern areas of South Korea went silent and hundreds of new explosions rocked the area as many of their aircraft hit the earth. Even the young North Korean Premier’s plane with him aboard on its way to the front to inspect the damage they had done to the dying South Korean troops defending their territory went down.
The same happened in Iran. Their entire air force was airborne bombing and fighting American and NATO military bases in Iraq and surrounding countries. They all dropped like flies as their lights went off and machines of all types stopped working. It was the same in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and the Sudan. The rapid shutdown of the rest of the developed world very quickly came and went.
“Does anybody think that our own government could not be behind suggesting to the North Koreans that attacking us was in their best interest?” asked Chairman Chunqiao to the group of shocked men. Wang, still wanting to be sick, could not move.
“Why would North Korea attack us? We have given them a share of world domination with us. Why would they attack us, without somebody suggesting it to them, or offering them a better deal?”
“Why would North Korea attack us, Comrade Chairman?” asked Mo Wang, looking straight at Chairman Chunqiao. “Why would our own government attack us? They are already on their knees due to us cutting off their military strength. They are already like a vassal state to us and would do anything we asked of them. I believe somehow the Americans have attacked us. I believe that with all the uprising in America against our termination squads, Comrade Chairman, I can’t even communicate with over 50% of our teams. I believe America has somehow attacked us.”
The chairman pondered Comrade Wang’s answer for several moments, and then looked up and around at every table. “Wang, give me the phone number of the pilots of the aircraft leaving New York. If they do not respond, then I might believe that you are on the right track. If they respond, then I want to hear that both aircraft are in the air and on their way back to China. What are the phone numbers for both aircraft?”
Comrade Wang looked at a long list of numbers he kept in a red notebook in his shirt pocket and gave the numbers to the chairman. The first number he stated aloud was the number for the transporter 747—the more important aircraft. Chairman Chunqiao got a quick answer from the pilot. “Are you on your way back to Shanghai?”
“Yes Comrade Chairman,” replied the pilot, suddenly sitting up straight in his seat. “We are an hour out of New York and bound directly north for our secret landing location. No, there are no problems with our 747,” he added, puzzled why the chairman was phoning him so quickly after they had seen him in New York just an hour earlier.
“Unfortunately, the other aircraft is having a minor fuel problem,” the pilot reported. “The pilot said that he is having fuel starvation at high altitude a few minutes ago and he has descended his aircraft down to 20,000 feet. We can see him on radar about five miles behind us and he is still with us. The pilot believes that the problem is sorting itself out the lower he goes. He will stay at 20,000 feet until the problem clears itself, Comrade Chairman. We think it is just dirty fuel from New York and that he will ascend and join me in an hour or two. There is no need for concern and I will update you if you wish, Comrade Chairman.”
“Don’t call me, call Comrade Wang. Do you have his number?” asked the Chairman. Wang also nodded to the chairman that he had and the chairman terminated the call and put the phone down. He explained to the whole group what the pilot had said to him and then looked at each member.
“Comrade Wang,” he stated as his eyes fixed on the man he was beginning to blame for all his problems. “I understand your concern. The aircraft are fine and there were no problems in New York. That means our termination squads cleared the runway, our troops landed, and nothing was out of place. I honestly believe you are beating the wrong horse, Comrade. How are Americans coming halfway across the world to bomb our headquarters? How could they even know we exist? It’s absolutely impossible. You disappoint me, Comrade Wang. The Americans get panicked, the shutdown closes down the whole country—everything. They don’t even know who formulated the attack. The Americans and the Europeans can only think it’s the Russian or Chinese governments, or maybe North Korea or Iran. They could never think it was a conglomerate of private electrical companies here in China. And you want to tell me that with all their satellites destroyed, they fly like angels across the world and accurately destroy our headquarters, a building that they don’t even know exists? Wang this is real life, not an American Hollywood film production.”
“But….” started Comrade Wang.
“I don’t want to hear any more. I think we should vote on this issue immediately,” continued the Chairman. “We have sixteen votes on this table. Gentlemen, who here believes the Americans are to blame for the destruction of our headquarters?” Only Comrade Wang put his hand up. “Who believes it was a country we have just terminated by me pushing the fourth button two minutes ago?” the Chairman asked. Ten members put up their hands. “Who believes that our headquarters was destroyed by Chinese fighters, or bombers belonging to either of the two Chinese governments?” Three people put up their hands. “Who believes that foreign aircraft were used, but they were assisted or ordered to by people in our own Chinese government?” Twelve members put up their hands. “Good, I believe that I agree with the 12 members of this Politburo and blame our own allies and our own government for this attack on our world sovereignty.”
Comrade Wang’s phone went off again and the chairman, tired of this man’s continuing interference, asked him to either turn off his phone or leave the room. Wang knew what was going to happen and, much to the dismay of his Politburo colleagues, he got up, bowed and stated his apologies to the chairman, and left the room. “I have a bad feeling about Comrade Wang,” the chairman confessed to the group after the door closed behind Wang. “I do not think he can take the pressure of his position, and I think we should bring the number in here down to 15. Gentlemen, how many of you believe that it is time to conquer the whole world and take everybody out of the picture. If I press the fifth button, nothing except our 35 aircraft, our five naval ships, our three satellites, our 500 cell phones—of which 250 are already in America and Europe—our ten container ships, and an unnamed area north of here will still be operational in the whole world. Gentlemen, if I press the fifth button, we are either going to control the world, or we will die trying. There is no going back, except to pick up the Chinese pieces in a year or so and turn the billions of humans worldwide who have survived into workers for our new world. How many of you vote to press the fifth button? Everybody put up their hand.”