Read United States Invaded Online
Authors: Ira Tabankin
“Premier Xing, President Puten is online one. He’s secure.”
“Mr. President, what can China do for you today?”
“Premier, Russia is soon going to require you to make a decision. The time is very close when the Middle Kingdom is going to have to take sides.”
“Mr. President, the Middle Kingdom will always take its own side. We were a nation while Russia and most of the world were still living in caves. When Russia and the world have returned to ash, China will still be here. We plan in centuries, not days, my advisories, and I don’t think China will have to take sides. We are happy to sit and watch you and President Reid play the rest of the world as fools.”
“Premier, if you expect to gain access to our oil and gas you will decide with us.”
“Mr. President, China may no longer require access to you petrol. We are in the process of gaining access to a large field of oil and gas.”
“Premier, I don’t understand.”
“You will soon. We’ll agree to not make any releases, so you don’t lose face after you’ve already released the information that our two countries have reached an agreement to share your new fields.”
“I’ll give you thirty days to review your decision.”
“Mr. President, thank you, I’m sure we’ll be speaking shortly.”
Premier Xing hangs up the phone; he turns to the Chinese Defense Minister, smiling, “When the action begins, the time will be right for us to make our move, are your troops ready?”
“Yes sir, we are ready, our troops, ships and planes are just waiting for the word to move. All are hidden and so far, we haven’t been discovered.”
“Excellent, tell your staff the time is coming very soon when we’ll move, making sure China never has to beg or buy strategic materials again.”
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As President Brownstone and his staff are boarding Air Force One, the Russian Spetsnaz are meeting with the Russian agent. “The Air Force technicians will arrive in 60 minutes, are your people ready?”
“Yes, I have four teams hidden along the road. Will they be the only ones coming in this direction?”
“There will be the technicians and behind them a security team of two vehicles.”
“How many are in the security team?”
“Today there are only five people, one called in sick. All are armed with M4s.”
“We’re ready.”
The captain slips back into his fighting hole on the side of the road. He and his men are waiting for the three vehicles to approach. The Russians have cut a couple of telephone poles which they’ve laid across the only access road. The first vehicle approaches the fallen tree, the driver stops. “Hey, LT need some help up here, we’ve got a downed telephone pole, some rancher must have hit it and left it for us.”
“Damn it, I wish these guys would contact us when they or their cattle take our fence poles out. I’ll get the team to move the pole, we’ll have to call in the loss, and it’ll mean the site is without power or phones, maybe both. Damn it, I was really looking forward to getting home early today.”
“People, everyone out. We’ve got a downed pole across the road.”
Sergeant Rollings inspects the fence pole, “This is the second one this month. Damn it, we should bill the ranchers for the damage; that’ll stop them. LT, want us to try to restring the wires?”
“Not today, I want to get to the site, get our job done and go home, we can return tomorrow to replace the pole. Plus it’s supposed to rain later, I don’t want to be wet and late.”
“Gotcha. OK people, let’s get this log off the road.”
Before the technicians can move the pole, they’re attacked by the Russians. None of the technicians survives the surprise attack.
The Russian captain tells his people, “Push the pole out of the way, change into the American uniforms and dump the bodies into a mass grave we dug two days ago. Come on, time isn’t something we have a lot of.”
The Russians carry the American bodies to a mass grave they’ve previously dug. The Americans are stripped of their ID cards. The Russians climb into the American vehicle, moving the downed pole behind them to block the oncoming security force.
“Men, hurry, time is moving quickly, we’ve got to hurry, we have to check in on the technician’s original schedule.”
Four miles ahead is the Russian’s goal, a Minuteman III missile silo. Pulling up to the electrified fence, the Russians use the ID badges from the Air Force technicians to enter the site. The captain checks in the manuals in the truck to learn how to open the silo cover. He sends two of his men to check-in and inform the two Air Force officers in the missile launch capsule, 100 feet underground that they’re going to take missile number six off-line to update the missile’s guidance system. The Russian’s real task is to rig the warhead to explode in the silo. The explosion won’t kill more than a handful of people - the goal of their mission is to increase world opinion that the USA can’t be trusted to care for its nuclear weapons. Presidents Reid and Puten have a press program ready to launch as soon as the warhead explodes.
President Puten plans to decapitate America and disarm it. First he plans to have President Brownstone arrested at The Hague and then turned up the heat by exploding one of the American strategic missiles and warheads. He plans to push the story that since the break up of America, the loss of so many trained key people means America can no longer care for their WMD. Puten is preparing on sending thousands of special troops to take America’s WMD away, disarming America without a leader, leaving Russia to rule the world.
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“General Voldodin, President Brownstone is in the air, our team has arrived at the missile silo, our forces are standing by at Red Banner 2. We have twenty-two submarines off the American East Coast tracking the American Navy. We are waiting for the code word to move to condition Red Banner 1.”
“General Lodensdin, your staff has done very well. As soon as we receive the signal that the captain has completed his task, we’ll issue the release. Remember, we don’t want to start a nuclear war between us and the Americans, we only want them to allow us to disarm them. President Puten will make his speech shortly after the captain completes his mission.”
“General, our forces are standing by to complete our goal.”
“I assume the captain doesn’t know what the actual result of his mission will be?”
“No sir, he has no idea he’s actually going to set off the warhead.”
“Very good, all we can do now is wait for the nuclear dentition indication.”
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Kathy and I wandered the Jamestown settlement. Wherever we looked, we saw signs and posters both pro and con President Obsma’s elevation to Sainthood. This is starting to tear apart the country worse even than the split between the LSA/USA. “Honey, how can anyone with any brain cells really think Obsma should be made a Saint? Unless they think, he’s a Saint for Satan.”
“Brad, there are, millions who think he did a good job. He was the first African-American president.”
“His skin color doesn’t and shouldn’t have anything to do with it. He could have and promised to bring the country together; he did the opposite. I may not have liked his policies…”
“May not? Don’t start that now, every time he was on TV, you had changed the channel before you threw something at the set.”
“OK, yes, I didn’t like him. But, he could have reduced race issues versus increasing them. He could have done more to reduce race tensions than any other President. Instead, he turned up the heat. He pushed the country to the edge of a race war. I admit, I didn’t like him, but I did have hope when he was elected he could accomplish what no one else could. I don’t know who started this Sainthood bullshit, but whoever started it, is very smart. He got the entire world to focus on the sainthood issue. He pulled it off within a few days. Whoever it is could sell ice to Eskimos. He must be working for Reid because he’s tearing us apart.”
“Do you think the Pope will support it?”
Laughing so hard I start coughing, “I respect this pope, I like the way he tries to bring the church to the poor and how he addresses issues head on. He’s a regular guy who isn’t swayed by the office and title. I don’t see how he could accept Obsma’s sainthood. It goes against everything he stands for. I could see some of the other Popes selling out, but not this one. If he does sell out I think, it will damage the church. You’re Catholic, what do you think?”
“I agree with you, I think the Pope should come out and denounce the movement. Hey, look at that little shop, let’s check it out.”
“We don’t have any room at home for more old stuff, I’m old enough to cover everything you want in the way of antiques.”
Approaching the store, I stop in mid-step by the bright yellow sign in the window “#saintObsma," “I’ve had enough, let’s go someplace else or for a ride. I can’t take any more of this BS.”
“I think you’re right. You’re getting too worked up and stressed out by all of this. We are supposed to have fun without the stress.”
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The drug cartels issue a reward of $500 million in either cash or product for the head of President Brownstone. Within minutes, the internet carries the story around the world. Sitting in the ready room at
Las Palmas - Gando Air Base
,
a Spanish Air Force base, four pilots read the message. “Captain Aguliar, we can do this, we know his flight plan, we fly the same planes as the US Navy. I tell you; we can do this; we repaint our planes to look like the US Navy, we intercept Air Force One in international air while jamming all of the RF spectrum. They won’t be able to call for help, we’ll be on them before they know what happened. We use our gun cameras to record the kill; we collect the $500 million, take our planes and disappear. We’ll go to some island or a nice South American country where we’ll never be found. We’ll live like kings.”
“Jose, let me look at the charts, you’ve made many good points; I agree we might be able to get away with it. We need to find out the daily code word from our friend in their Navy and the IFF code. We have to understand, if we even try this; we can’t come home again. Not ever. The American military will hunt us forever. We’ll never stop having to look over our shoulders.”
“Captain, if we have the IFF code, they’ll assume we’re Navy planes sent to escort them. Two of us fly escort, two stay low hidden in the noise and weeds where their radar can’t see us. At the right time, the two low planes go to afterburner and attack from below Air Force One. We can do this and be gone before anyone realizes it. If anything, the Americans will think their own Navy attacked their President. They’ll think it was an internal battle between their forces.”
“Let’s tell the base commander we’re going to plan a quick reaction training flight of four planes, arm three of them with two drop tanks, and four missiles. The fourth should be an electronic jamming model with just drop tanks. If we are going to pull this off, we don’t have much time.”
“Captain, I’ll contact our friend, I’ll tell him we are going to be flying in the Med close to their ships, we don’t want any issues between us. Hence why we want their IFF code.”
“Very good idea, we have a lot of work to do and not much time. I’ll call the plane captain to prep the planes.”
“Captain, I’ll call you in twenty minutes.”
“Ernesto, I have another idea, after we shoot down Air Force One, two of our planes fly a profile that will look like two of us attacked the other two. We play a mock dog fight. In the middle of a dogfight, all four of or planes nose over and head towards the ocean. All call in saying we’ve been hit and are going down. When we get below the radar, we level off and fly to the island to refuel.”
“You’re going to have to find the island very quickly and have fuel ready. We’re not going to be able to leave anyone alive at the base where we refuel. We can’t leave any witnesses to tell anyone we were there or in which direction we flew.”
“Find a base we’ve used before, we’re going to need all of the drop tanks we can increase our range. It would be good if our refueling stop also had extra missiles to rearm us.”
“Captain, I’ll get on this right now. We store weapons and fuel on some islands in case of war.”
Captain Aguilar calls the base commander to suggest a quick reaction training flight. The base commander likes the idea; he quickly approves the plan. As soon as the base commander hangs up, Captain Aguilar picks up the base radio handset. “Juan, we are going to do a quick reaction training flight with four Hornets, the commander has agreed to arm the Hornets fully. How quickly can you get them ready?”
“Captain, we have two on ready five, we can have the other two ready in thirty minutes. Did you say fully armed?”
“Yes, armed for air to air.”
“I’ll get my people on them; I need the commander’s written approval to load live weapons.”
“Check your laptop, it’s already there.”
“Captain, I have to go, we have a lot of work to do in a very short time if you’re going to make your schedule.”
Four F/A 18 Hornet fighters are swarmed with Spanish Air Force people, fueling, arming and checking every detail on the planes. Drop tanks are installed and fueled. Live armed missiles are taken out of the weapon's facility, checked and bolted to the planes underwing weapon's rails.