America's Trust (41 page)

His breathing relaxed and, controlled, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet fired and without waiting for the result, he was up and pulling the boys through the undergrowth before all hell broke loose.

The British General wasn’t overly pleased to see Admiral Keeler. He was too busy trying to rearrange his forces to bolster the lines, thanks to the Americans effectively bowing out of the fight.

“It seems we’re victims of some type of cyber attack,” explained Keeler. “Although our stored equipment seems unaffected,” he said, explaining how the Camp Darby reinforcements were rushing forward to help, which appeased the British General hugely.

With the news that his entire Southern flank was about to receive a welcome addition of forces, he calmed down a little.

“I’m hearing we’ve lost all communications with the States?” inquired the British General.

“As I have no communications whatsoever, General, anything you’re hearing, I can assure you, is more than I know. I need to try our ambassador in Britain, see if he knows what’s happening.”

The British General pointed to a desk in the corner of the center. “That’s my desk, feel free to use the phone,” he said, turning back to answer a number of queries that were being fired at him.

“How are our guys doing?” asked Keeler, not moving.

“It’s crazy out there. The Russians massively outnumber us but so far haven’t launched a full-scale counterassault. They’ve charged forward at a few locations and our guys have held them back. Without your guys, I’m not sure we’ll hold them for long when they do make a coordinated move.”

“Is none of our equipment working?”

“Nothing. Even your fancy new M4S assault rifles are down to single shots.”

“Single shots?” he asked, flabbergasted that even the soldiers’ rifles were affected.

“Something to do with personalized coding on the handgrip. It’s not recognizing the soldier and so becomes a single shot rifle requiring manual reloading for each shot. That seems to be the failsafe mode if somebody other than the coded user tries to use it.”

Leaving the General to reorganize his troops, Keeler tried to find out what had happened to his country. After a number of attempts, he finally got a number to call – it was the landline number for the US ambassador to Britain. After explaining in triplicate who he was, the ambassador finally came on the line.

“Admiral, I hear it’s not good out there.”

Admiral Keeler quickly explained just how bad it was before getting to what he really wanted to know. “What’s happening? I believe the States are out of contact?”

“Admiral, we have no idea. When I say we have no contact, I mean nothing. It’s like a black hole has swallowed America. All I do know from our bases here is that our planes can’t fly without their computer systems, our ships have no guidance systems and can’t sail, our missiles won’t fire, and our guns don’t work. On top of that, we can’t communicate with any of them in any event, as no communications are working.”

“Jesus,” breathed the admiral.

“Local cell phones are working here in the UK but out of range of the local towers, there’s nothing. The Chinese took out all the Russian satellites and were a bit overzealous with their first strike, taking out a lot more than they intended. The Russians are desperate to meet with the UK prime minister. They probably want to negotiate a NATO surrender given what’s happened to our forces. I can only stall that for so long. Our allies will be nervous at the prospect of the Russians steamrolling their way across the continent. There will come a point when they’ll put their national interests ahead of the NATO treaty. We have to be prepared for that. Unless I can get to the president, or at least someone in the US soon to understand what has happened and how we proceed, I’m going to have to let the allies do what they think is right. Not that I think they will listen to me much longer.”

“What about commercial flights from the US?” asked Keeler, trying to think of every conceivable angle open to them for information.

“Those in the air are fine but they left before the blackout. Everything heading to the US has been unable to contact ground control and has been redirected to alternates. All scheduled flights have been cancelled by the airlines until further notice.”

“What about Canada?” asked the admiral, “or Mexico?”

“We’re not sure. Their communications are down also, although I’m told it’s more like they’re being jammed, whereas ours have just ceased to exist.”

“Jesus,” exclaimed Keeler again at the scale of the problems they faced. “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador, I’ll keep in touch.” Admiral Keeler ended the call. An officer was waving at him and mouthing at him to pick up line two.

“Hello?” he answered, selecting the call.

“Admiral Keeler, Supreme Commander of Allied Forces Europe?” questioned the foreign voice.

“Yes,” he replied, instantly regretting having been so stupid. He was on a landline and was asked to confirm his identity to a voice he didn’t know. If they were targeting the building, he was about to confirm that yes they had just eliminated the NATO Commander.

“You, sir, I believe are the most senior member of the US forces still alive and a very hard man to track down.”

Admiral Keeler sat down. There were many men senior to him, many, many men, including the president, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Forces.

“Who is this?” he asked, gasping for air at the thought that that statement could possibly be true and the repercussions it meant for America.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you but if you want to end this war, walk outside and get in the jeep that is at the door. The driver will bring you to me.”

“The Russians have done what?!” shouted the British General, interrupting Keeler’s conversation.

Keeler wheeled around and listened to the soldier repeating the news to the General. Without a word, he did exactly what the voice told him to, realizing at that moment exactly with whom he had been speaking.

The prime minister knocked tentatively at the president’s door. The cabinet had argued for over five minutes as to who would break the news. The prime minister was the second most powerful man in China and had to accept that it was his job. The generals were cowering. They were ultimately responsible for security.

“Enter!” came the command from President Junpeng. He was a man who had fought his way to the top. Born a peasant, he had excelled at school and been selected for the best schools China had to offer. On outgrowing these, he was shipped to foreign establishments where his education and experience grew, as did his ambitions. He loved the West, loved what they had to offer their people. It was an offering that even with his greatest efforts, he could never replicate in China. Their numbers were just so vast and resources so limited. They were trapped. He was a great historian and reveled in the times when China was the foremost country in the world. Its great dynasties, economic and military powerhouses were feared by the world. He had one ambition. He would become the world’s foremost superpower. He had the ambition and, thanks to his meteoric rise within the party, he had the means and the resources. He just needed the plan.

America’s Trust had been his brainwave. The Americans were at the weakest they had been in decades following the economic meltdown that had hammered Western economies. As the party’s deputy, he had been able to begin planning his great takeover. As president, he had been able to launch it. He understood the West, understood its greed, understood just how to bring it down. The war between Russia and the US wasn’t his idea but it was, he had to agree, brilliant. It had to come from nowhere and happened so quickly that nobody knew what had happened until it was too late. The intelligence agencies had to be blindsided and given little chance to react, a few days to build and then Pearl Harbor. It was the one touch-point that would start things immediately. It had been a risk. The unexpected return to base of the Russian carrier, the Kuznetsov, was not in the plan. But fortunately, the timings had worked. Before anyone who knew the truth had a chance to speak, America was plunged into a dark oblivion, all under his total control. He would be seen as the man who united the world. With America under his control, a weakened Russia would welcome their Communist roots with open arms. China, America and Russia, the three world superpowers joined together as one nation, all under his total control. The world was his to have.

Mao Junpeng, a farmer’s son from rural China, ruling the world; it was the all-American dream. It could only happen in China, he had joked.

The next phase of the plan required patience. While NATO battled with Russia in the West, he had to keep up the pretense of being on NATO’s side. Meanwhile, America would look after itself. Plunging it into darkness would destroy society to the point that they would welcome anyone who could give them back even a fraction of what they had had before. It was the genius in the plan. They didn’t need a massive army to defeat the Americans, they just needed to stop them being Americans. A country which had everything suddenly had nothing. President Junpeng had managed over time and with some difficulty to smuggle a small army into America. It was more than enough to secure the critical infrastructure. Airborne divisions had also been sent, further enhancing the force but still relatively small. It was, as predicted, more than enough. The Americans were leaderless, disarmed, disconnected and utterly unaware what had happened to them.

With satellites down, Junpeng’s forces could be sent by sea, unhindered by overhead spies. The vast forces that would secure the country when he deemed their services could be turned back on awaited his command. The news from America was excellent. His forces had secured all critical buildings and the Americans were utterly clueless as to what had really happened. Many believed they had suffered a catastrophic nuclear strike by the Russians. Others just hoped they hadn’t and everything would come back on soon. After a few days, that attitude would change. Food would be hard to find. A country without communications and power would effectively stop functioning. Food would begin to be rationed once no end to their plight was immediately foreseeable. A dawning of realization that this was their new reality would begin to sink in and the survival mentality would kick in. It would get ugly, but the uglier it got, the more obedience they would gain when they did switch the country back on. Things would be different but they’d be better than the alternative they had witnessed.

Initially, he had planned to launch his forces as soon as the satellites were down. However, the more he considered the impact of doing nothing, the more he realized that that was the best and most impactful course of action.

A few weeks in the wilderness would make them all the more obedient and respectful.

The prime minister walked into President Junpeng’s impressive office. It was adorned almost entirely by British antique furniture and modern American electronics. It was not what the world would have expected of the Communist leader. The prime minister winced when he saw that the president had been joined by his son, one of the president’s thirty-year-old twin boys and one his most trusted aides. His son was never far from his side and never away from his thoughts. The twins were his example to the Chinese people. He was giving them a better life, just as every Chinese parent should strive to do for their own child. Highly educated like their father at foreign universities, they had been born to rule. He just needed somewhere for them to rule. The prime minister had sometimes wondered if this plan was, in fact, designed to ensure they all had a chance. Li, who sat in his father’s office, would be the Chinese head of the Russian Chinese government. Jay, the president’s favorite, although he’d never admit it, was destined to head the American Chinese government.

“Mr. President, I have some terrible news,” said the prime minister solemnly. Telling a parent about the loss of their child was not news you ever wanted to have to break.

A few hours later and earlier than scheduled, the largest seaborne force ever assembled was sailing towards China’s new land of opportunity, the restrictions in their use of force to control the populous significantly relaxed. A nation would pay for their new president’s loss.

“Can somebody please explain to me where the hell our forces are?” Jack said in frustration, speeding past the Raven Rock turn off. “How have these fuckers managed to do this under our fucking noses?”

Frank leaned forward and whispered to Butler who nodded in agreement.

Fuel was running low and from what they had surmised from the closed gas stations, would be impossible to get. Their options were limited. Butler stayed on the MD-16 and then took the Northern bound MD-15.

“Where are we going?” asked Jack.

“I suggested we get to the nearest military base, Mr. President,” answered Frank.

“Good idea.” Jack watched the Pennsylvanian countryside whip past and tried to think what he could have done differently. Where had he gone so wrong? Why had he not seen Kenneth for what he really was? A million questions raced though his mind. They all came back to the same answer. Everybody had fallen for it. Every single person in the country. But he wasn’t just anyone. He was the president. He had sworn that he would defend the Constitution and ultimately the people, and he had failed them. The American people had deserved better and he was damned well going to make sure he gave them just that.