» Wed Mar 31, 2010 1:18 am Robert Conroy walked down a hallway with a briefcase clutched in his fist. Flanking him were two security guards as he made his way to the oval office. In the briefcase were the plans and strategies to completely end the war. Rob entered the oval office as a couple guards noticed him and opened the door.
"Morning Rob," said a tired president.
"Good morning sir," Rob said trying to withhold excitement from his voice.
"I understand you have something important for me?" Sighed the president as he shuffled papers around.
"Yes sir. The experts have created a new missile to mount our warheads on. We call it the Bodkin."
"What else is new?" an uninterested president asked sarcastically.
"This one has stealth capabilities. If positioned and used properly, we won't have any retaliatory strikes against us if we launch these against China in a decapitation strike." Robert paused for a moment. "Sir, with this missile we are capable of first strike deployment."
With that the president stopped and looked up with an expression that clearly stated, 'Christmas had come early for the aged president.'
* * *
The explosion rocked the surrounding area as the bunkers for the Americana military base exploded in a shower of dirt. The small party of guerilla forces had infiltrated the base and destroyed the defenses.
"All squads assault!" Blake screamed into the radio over the staccato clatter of automatic weapons. Canadian rebels swept into the base. In the base there was a total of four ICBMs each containing five 500Kt nuclear warheads in them. In addition to the nukes, there was a lot of fuel, munitions and armored vehicles for the taking. The plan was simple, sweep in, take everything and leave with every American dead. The Canadians left with the missiles and drove out in American tanks.
"Total casualties?" the man across from Chris in the APC read off a list. "Thirty-three."
"And what would you estimate for the Americans?" Chris asked.
"One hell of a lot more than that."
Chris smiled smugly. "Good."
The convoy drove unhindered with an escort of ten choppers. The hidden rebel base was constructed with silos just for this purpose. The American government was too busy in their war with China to pay much attention to the insurrection in Canada. Chris hated the States with a passion ever since they shot his protesting parents and essentially invaded his country. Deep in the mountains of southern British Columbia the rebels were gearing up for revolution. Vast underground warehouses were crammed full of armaments and vehicles. Every person in Canada was willing; they just needed one final component, a nuclear missile.
"This place used to be called the Fording Coal Mine," Chris said to a friend he looked at the silos drilled in the previously coal filled mountains. The ICBMs were being loaded into them, as he looked around the old mine. "We are going to have to mobilize our forces fast If we are going to get our people underground in time to save them from nuclear war."
"I agree," Gizzam, one of the other commanders stated. "I'm going to miss Elkford," Gizzam looked down at the mining community. He turned his attention to the new Bodkin missiles "These are really strange looking missiles."
Chris nodded his agreement as he looked at the new angular stealth missile. It looked like the graphics in a late 20th century video game.
* * *
"We are losing the war!" general Halim yelled at the Chinese president Fuchika. "Those cardboard battle suits you gave us are worse that the old Interceptor body armor. Interceptor would at least let us move out of the way!" The steady scream came from his lungs at a silent man in a suit. "These damn suits are so thin that a pistol round puncture right through them. Not only that, they are so bulky that we cant move out of the way when they aim at us."
"Silence!" the small man yelled. "We have more people than them. We are losing five men to there one. But it doesn't matter because at this rate there will be no more Americans in a few more years, see where I'm coming from. Now leave I have an important appointment in a few minutes." General Halim bowed his head to Fuchika and left the room.
Fuchika sighed and looked at his "to do" list. An Intel officer had scheduled what was apparently a very important appointment in five minutes. Fuchika eyed the bottle of brandy in his desk drawer longingly. No! He must remain sober for the rest of the day, but at seven?
He just had time to relax when someone knocked on the door. "That must be the agency's gopher sent to deliver the report," he thought to himself. "Come in," he said firmly.
The door opened to reveal, not an agency letter boy. But the agency's director himself walked in.
"This cant be anything good," Fuchika anxiously thought to himself. The thought of any more bad news made the strung out president want to cry. Despite what the public new and what he told Halim, they were losing the war, and badly. "Hate to seem rude but get to the point and tell me why you're here," Fuchika told the fidgeting director.
The director looked at him and told Fuchika quite plainly. "They have a new missile."
The incredulous president stared at the man. "What the hell else is new? The Americans design dozens of new missiles every month. What the hell makes this one so important?"
"We wont be able to know if this one is coming for us or not."
Fuchika gave a puzzled gaze at the Intelligence officer until comprehension dawned on his weary face. "You have to be kidding right?" the aging president half pleaded, half cried to the man. Again his eyes strayed to the drawer with the brandy. "I want as many people as possible working on counter measures for this new menace. I don't want China to get caught with our pants down."
The director bowed and left the room without a word.
Fuchika couldn't contain himself any longer. He pulled open the drawer and grabbed the bottle. Without pausing to pour a glass he simply spun off the cap and put the bottle up to his lips. In a matter of minutes an entire bottle of fine brandy was gone. Fuchika's head spun faster than the ceiling fan above him before he passed out into his chair.
* * *
Chris looked around his old hometown. The small hamlet had definitely grown. Now there were two gas stations instead of the one that supplied the entire town. And the bakery had re-opened. It wasn't nostalgia or accident that he was back in his old town. There are Hydro-Electric dams all down the Columbia River. Each one would be a very important strategic target in the revolution.
He gazed across the lake to a field that was now being used for a supply depot. Tons of fuel and munitions were stored there.
"Yes we have made plans to seize the supply depot," James walked up beside Chris. James was the commander of Kootenay sector.
"Good it will come in useful," Chris smirked. "I dearly hope we have enough people to take it."
James let out a quiet laugh. "That's where we need your help."
Chris gave his answer in a cold gleeful smile.
* * *
"We have weakened the Chinese frontline center," General John Grumen pointed to the lines and bars on the map. "If we strike with three grade A divisions right there, we can cut off the right and left flanks from each other." A group of commanders sat around a table discussing battle plans.
"But the three divisions will have pressure from three sides," another commander put in.
"Well we can't go back to sitting in northern Manchuria fighting an endless wave of enemies. We need to break through and capture a couple major cities."
"Mabey we should use tactical nukes to thin out the ranks on the enemy lines," suggested Daroth.
The whole room grew silent. The casual suggestion of nuclear warfare was mind-boggling.
"Just for battlefield use of course. No major population centers."
"Are you an idiot!" yelled General Grumen. "If we start throwing nuclear warheads around how long do you think it will be before a Chinese nuke lands itself on an American city?"
"I agree with Daroth," came another voice. "This war must not continue." In a matter of minutes it was settled. General Grumen would ask the President for permission to use tactical nukes on the frontlines. He knew the president would agree he was dying for a chance to use those nukes? fool. The war had just gone nuclear.
* * *
"Oh ya! And I win again came the joyous cry from inside a Chinese tent. There was a lull in the fighting and the Chinese rank and file was taking the time for some relaxation. Haraji had just won his third game of poker. The battle suits were sitting off to the side. The heavy and clunky armored suits were nowhere near as protective as they looked. "This calls for a beer." Haraji pulled out a case of beer from the sleeping bad beside him. The tent was of medium size and the unit had become among his best friends.
"Where did you get that?" asked an amazed squad mate looking at the case of beer. Drinking beer while in active service was a court martial offence in the Chinese military. But it was an offence the officers really didn't care about pursuing (as long as they got some when they caught the soldiers with it).
"It really doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's the best." Haraji pointed out the red and gold label. "The six guys in the tent cracked their beers and proceeded with the game. Haraji was almost finished his fourth game when the wail of a siren pierced the air. Haraji could hear panic from outside the tent. The six men ran outside the tent rifles in hand despite their complete uselessness. A second sun appeared on the horizon, then a third. The next one vaporized the small encampment.
* * *
Two hundred armed men waited outside the small base for the attack signal. Inside the base were almost a thousand sleepy Americans. It would be an even battle. "Begin phase one," Chris spoke into the headset. Immediately the clatter of automatic weapons came from the far side of the farm. The main force tensed up eagerly. Blake nodded, "Lets rock and ruin."
On the command the charges under the fence were blown. The fences were chain-link with razor wire on the top. There were a few towers; not many though. Thousands of barrels of precious fuel tool up two square kilometers of land. The field had a steep slope to the south and another small area below it, where all the armored vehicles were being kept.
Guards jolted awake in the towers and frantically looked around. Missile launchers were old technology but were very useful in completely destroying the small guard towers. The small rebel force charged in weapons blazing. Trying to look like a larger force than they really were.
"C-company swing right and take the main gate," Chris screamed over the sound of rifle fire. Several men ran to the gate with assault rifles and missile launchers in hand. The amount of Americans killed in the first few minutes was amazing, almost three hundred lay dead. Then the Americans had re-grouped and formed up. The battle had begun.
"What the hell do you plan on doing now!" yelled a corporal taking cover behind the sandbagged position they had taken.
"Call air support, strike package alpha if they aren't busy on the dams. If they can't show up try for Delta," Chris pulled the pin out of a grenade and chucked it. The battle went on for what seemed like forever. With many fine soldiers falling on both sides the ten minutes seemed like ten years.
"Position three has been overrun," cried a wide-eyed commander next to Chris. "There are simply too many Americans, if they find a way to move the armor up the slope we are all dead men!" Chris knew that armored help would be too late in arriving up that slope however.
The sound of choppers and jets lifted everyone's spirits however. One particularly large chopper slid open its doors to reveal a massive 30mm anti tank minigun, and another six smaller ones had smaller anti infantry miniguns behind their doors. Chris saw a missile streak up and destroy one of the lesser choppers. The 30mm drifted over the enemy armor and opened fire. The carnage was unbelievable. Hundreds of soldiers on both sides were shredded and another two choppers were destroyed before the battle was over. Chris could still see the occasional fireball rise from exploding fuel barrels. The loss of life had been tremendous on both sides this time.
"That was brutal," commented a bleeding sergeant. "Any news come in on the success of the dams?"
"The one by Revelstoke has been taken. I'm not sure about the others but reports from the underground have been pretty good." This attack would mark a turning point in the rebellion. The Canadians now had the Kootenays. And reports of the Okanagan attacks were looking good. Chris had no idea how things were developing outside of British Columbia but things seemed good inside. Things were developing well, too well and it was making Chris uncomfortable.
* * *
"Canadian rebels have attacked the hydro-electric dams on the Columbia River and seized several fuel and munitions dumps," colonel Gary stood in front of general Grumen. "The organization for a bunch of rebels is surprisingly good. Many of them obviously have a combat background."
The general was sick of this war, sick of everything. Now the Canadians were uprising in full scale it seemed. "Send the 38th, 50th and 16th to deal with it before they go to the front." The general had sent the entire strike force to clean up before the China operation. General Grumen had spent the last several weeks with his staff planning and organizing operation "Dagger Drive" the idea was to apply intense pressure on the weakened Chinese front and drive the three divisions straight through the Manchurian province and straight to Beijing. "Dismissed."
The colonel saluted and strode away.
* * *
In a few days Chris and the other commanders got word of the approaching divisions. The silos in Elkford remained secret and ready to fire. Chris had several strategic and tactical targets to choose from. He was given that little task. He had already decided to obliterate the East Coast with two of the missiles. He was going to designate at least one warhead to the Manifest Destiny battlegroup but one of the other commanders had that covered with another stolen nuclear cruise missile. How many nukes did the rebellion take?
The Manifest Destiny was an ideal brought about around the time of the American Civil war that said the States had the right to control North America. So the States named their main battleforce after it. The battleforce included five divisions worth of aircraft, infantry, and armored vehicles. Right now they are all clustered together with the ships and ground units right along side the coast of Alaska gearing up for somthing. It all seemed too easy.
Chris decided to designate the missiles to the west coast. Just like an attack was coming from China where the warheads would detonate on the west coast sooner before reaching NORAD and the eastern seaboard.
* * *
In the dim pre-dawn light a missile streaked over the ground. With it were another six Chinese cruise missiles. All of them were heading for the American frontline. The seven then separated and flew towards their mark. One came to a sudden halt when another smaller American missile slammed into it. Three more Chinese missiles dropped from the sky, spreading nuclear material everywhere. The other three slammed into American military camps and detonated. Three mushroom clouds grew from the American lines. And right behind those missiles two ICBM's started to separate their payload. Only to have American defense systems blast them from the sky.
"What is going on?" asked a groggy soldier until the siren clicked into his head. Private Jackson jumped up and ran out of the tent in time to see the mushroom cloud on the horizon claim forward camp C. Jackson knew this would happen ever since he seen American warheads devastate the Chinese. He could not see the benefit of making the land radioactive so only the class A armored divisions could operate to fight the Chinese. Then a fireball appeared over his camp, not nuclear but devastating. The cruise missile was intercepted however it spread radioactive material over the camp.
* * *
North Manchuria was turned into a wasteland and parts of Alaska were still recovering from the initial attacks of the war. The States were getting sick of the war and were hoping the nuclear onslaught would weaken the Chinese enough to bring an end to the war. Then the Chinese retaliated. Despite only three nukes getting through the damage had been incredible. An entire class A armored division was turned into radioactive scrap metal, an airstrip holding half the ground support aircraft had been pummeled. And last but not least, two infantry divisions were vaporized and irradiated with the third nuke. The Manifest destiny battleforce was still sitting in Alaska cleaning up remaining Chinese strongholds and the three expected support divisions were screwing around in Canada.
* * *
Chris was going about inspecting the bunker. The bunker was almost identical to the Vaults the states used. The actual Vaults in Canada were prime targets for the resistance to seize and use after the exchange. It was unlikely China would pummel the Canadian area due to the longstanding "friendship" with the resistance. Major cities and military bases were screwed however.
It was big enough to fit all the people in the Arrow Lakes section of the Kootenays. Chris highly doubted that any nukes would find their way to the Arrow lakes, having no cities or strategic targets other than the hydroelectric dams. But he should prepare for everything.
"Are we ready to launch yet," asked a tired but happy Chris when he seen James walking towards him.
"No we need to make sure all resistance forces are ready to go underground and evacuate the cities," James shook his head. "But we are launching the cruise missile towards Manifest Destiny in three hours." The use of nukes on a tactical level had allowed that little detail to be taken care of early.
"What about the three divisions coming for us?" asked a concerned Chris.
"The approaching Americans will present little problem when you consider how much equipment we have stashed away. Our commanders are the most brilliant in the world and our regular infantry are good enough to be special ops in any other country. We shouldn't have too much trouble with them. We should have control of Vancouver and Victoria by then so we will have little problem getting personnel," James listed the rebel army's strengths. "What could possibly go wrong?"
Chris hated that last phrase. Somehow something always went wrong when anyone said that.
* * *
The three class-A armored divisions were purely for show. Any determined guerilla force could chip away and defeat any army. The force was purely to subdue the rebellion for a time before moving to China to get nuked. Commander Jentil was supposed to be overseeing the three divisions; he left that job to his right hand man instead. General Lonejok was an ambitious man. Barely forty and commanding a division. His eagerness and hunger for power frequently got him in trouble however so he never advanced into the political side of the military.
"What do you think?" asked Jentil already knowing the answer.
"This is stupid. We are expected to fight shadows, witch wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have stolen weapons and equipment," Lonejok looked at the floor of the APC sourly. It wouldn't look good on his record if he couldn't do the impossible.
"Oh cheer up. High command is only going to keep us here a month at most before realizing we are much better used getting nuked at the front," Jentil gave a weak smile.
"I believe we should set up a defensible bunker and hide for that month so our lives don't end very suddenly by an IED or Canadian shadow," Lonejok voiced his opinion.
"They can't be as bad as the rumors say they are," Jentil tried to appear optimistic but only succeeded in looking like he needed reassurance.
The APC came to a stop and the door dropped. Jentil was first out to see beautiful British Columbia. The country was a nice place, but if the rumors were true each tree and shadow held a cold blooded professional killer. "Set up a camp and fortress immediately," Jentil gave the order not wanting to take any chances. "The terrorists are quite good at what they do, and they are fighting to steal Canada away from us." The reports of Canadian efficiency and brutality in defending their country scared the men. The force set about their work immediately, digging bunkers and stretching electrified concertino wire around the perimeter. In time towers would be erected and real walls would be set up but the wire would have to do for now.
"We should make sure we have local water nearby," Lonejok put in. The lake is at the bottom of the valley but running to fetch water put us on their turf. "We should straddle one of the numerous creeks nearby for a steady supply."
"Good idea, we shall send choppers to look for a suitable water source immediately." Jentil gave the command and a few minutes later a chopper was in the air and searching.
* * *
Chris had given his list of targets to James and was on his way to breakfast when a courier ran up to him.
"Message for you," the small child handed him an envelope with a maple leaf where the return address usually is.
"No rest for the wicked," Chris smiled wryly. The orders were simple enough: take his contingent and harass the newcomers. An explosion here a rocket there and maybe the occasional sniper. Pretty routine anything he could do to make the Americans feel unwelcome.
First thing he would do is shoot down that annoying chopper that had been flitting around all day. And so the order was given to a small rocket team who set out with orders to destroy the chopper and capture any survivors.
"Where are they based?" Chris asked a scout.
"They are holding position three kilometers out of Nakusp and seem to be looking for a better place."
Chris thanked the scout and moved on. He could cause a little discomfort right now with a conventional rocket. "I want a Headhunter-2 launched to the center of the American force before they get to comfortable. Within a few hours word came back of another successful mission and the rocket was ready to launch upon command. "Fire," Chris said without inflection. He didn't see or hear the missile but knew it was on its way. Chris moved to scramble the jets and anti armor units.
* * *
"This is the choppers last transmission," major Sanderson set the recording on Jentil's desk. "We believe they were near the hamlet of Burton when the surface to air missile hit them."
Jentil's head thudded on his desk. They haven't even made a real camp yet and things were being blown up.
A short stocky man that Jentil didn't recognize rushed into the command truck. "We have missile inbound on our position! Impact in thirty seconds."
Not many people have seen the aging and slightly overweight Jentil run before. "He runs fast for a fat man," one smart-ass, commented from his foxhole.
Jentil dove into the trench about ten seconds before the missile flew in. The supersonic missile detonated about twenty feet above the ground completely destroying two tanks and flipping three tanks and sending shrapnel flying everywhere.
"Gas!" screamed a terrified voice from a nearby foxhole. Field commander Jentil fumbled with his mask a while before getting it on. Just in the nick of time he clipped the final fastening to the side of his helmet. By the sounds of things not everyone else was quite as lucky. The soldiers were just crawling out of their holes when the encampment quite suddenly went up in a hundred explosions. Jentil seen ten multi-role jets flying away by the time the smoke cleared. The jets devastated the central section. The command truck was simply gone, dozens of light vehicles were ripped apart and about twenty tanks and another couple dozen APCs were destroyed. Quite a few soldiers died halfway out of their foxholes. Either hit with shrapnel, burned by the flames or pulverized by the shock.
"Still think it can't be bad?" asked Lonejok. Then explosions came from the outside of the camp. Then a huge explosion lit up the already bright sky. "And that would be either our fuel or ammunition." Then quite suddenly all was quiet; no explosions or gunfire, only the crackle of flames and moans of the dying.
It turned out that the fuel dump had caught an incendiary missile in the quick attack. Half of the fuel planned to use for their stay in Canada had been blown up. Jentil turned around to see the dead eyes of Major Sanderson. He had caught a chunk of shrapnel that would have hit Jentil if Sanderson weren't in the way.
* * *
The force that hit the Americans from the ground was moving towards Burton for shelter and a ride back to the main bunker. The small force of fifty destroyed quite a few armored vehicles and fuel. The attack wouldn't have been at all successful if it weren't for the gas-bearing missile that scared them into their holes. Now the attacks had ended before the Americans could organize and crush the small force. In truth they probably could have gotten another shot off each, but they didn't want to take that chance.
"How hard do you think we hit them?" asked one of the soldiers.
"Pretty damn hard I'd say," said another.
"The planes hit them hard and then we showed up to destroy their fuel," a man grinned. "We are doing pretty damn good." The strike force melted in with the trees and disappeared.
* * *
Toronto had been liberated. The attack was perfectly executed. All that there was left to do was have the two forces crush the Americans holding Calgary and Edmonton. Vancouver was now a Canadian city and the east was back in Canadian hands. But not for long if the package wasn't delivered quickly. The nukes had to be detonated before the Americans rolled in and took Canada again. But the resistance had to be organized enough to police and evacuate Canadian cities into the Vaults the Americans had been so kind in building. The next forty-eight hours would be long indeed. The resistance had tripled in numbers after the successful attack and stolen equipment was being used to kill the American soldiers. The attacks had caught the Americans with their pants down and Canada would exploit that for as long as possible.
"Hethem will take the class-A armor down the center and the class-B will support the flanks. All class-C divisions will be held for support." Jeled made plans with his other commanders for taking back the Canadian interior. "With the Americans surrounded we can hopefully do enough damage to them that they wont put up too much of a fight. Time is of the essence."
"Shouldn't we send a force to slow down the American counter-attack?" asked a concerned General Hethem. "If we haven't linked up with the British Columbia force before the Americans slam into our flank we are all screwed."
"A simple light division with anti-armor launchers will be good enough to slow them down without weakening our inland attack too much," Jeled conceded. "If we send any armor they will be overrun by the larger force on the desolate plains. Aircraft would be sitting ducks for mobile SAM units. But a mobile light division could hinder the enemy attack long enough to finish our business in Alberta."
"Strike the flanks and disappear," agreed Colonel Fritzgam. "A tactic we are all familiar with now I believe."
The B.C. force has encountered problems according to them," Captain Kree piped up. "It seems three armored divisions have set up shop right on their toes. They have succeeded in terrifying them for now so the wont come out of their fortress but they could potentially become a problem," The captain finished his report.
Jeled bit his lower lip with that news. He needed the B.C. force to connect with his in Alberta so they could strike at the approaching American force. But he had to trust his fellow Canadians. "The revolution is still a go."
* * *
General Grumen pounded his fist on his desk while him and the other commanders made plans. There simply weren't enough soldiers. Grumens skill at strategy made him in charge of the entire war. The war with China had used up almost 75% of the military attention and still more was needed. There wasn't enough people or equipment to deal with both China and Canada. Another problem was morale; everyone was scared half to death of Canadian rebels and even more so after the current disaster, to say nothing of the fear inspired by the use of nuclear weapons.
"How many reserves do we have left?" asked a tired Grumen.
"None, the use of nukes has turned a lot of our boys into ash and carbonized skeleton," stated an equally as tired assistant that kept track of things like supplies and other numbers.
"After the complete annihilation of the main battlegroup we have nothing other than a few battered single divisions," Grumen buried his face in his bony hands. The stress made the once rotund Grumen a very skinny man indeed. Not that anyone blamed him. "We have to work out a peace treaty with China." Grumen stated the words that blasted the breath from every person in the room.
"We have lost almost five million to nothing then?" exclaimed a fiery commander.
"If we don't end the war now then tomorrow it will be six million," a lesser general yelled back.
Grumen looked around and say many shifting in their seats. "Please be quiet everyone," he said in that same tired voice when everyone else started to join in. "If we end our war with China, which is turning into a nuclear wasteland anyway, then we can focus on keeping Canada and throwing down this insurrection. If we continue the war America will fall apart." In minutes it was settled, peace negotiations would begin.
* * *
"According to our Intel and the news, peace negotiations have begun between China and the States," Brody read the report to the assembled commanders at the Elkford mine. "Normally I would be thrilled at the end of a bloody bitter war. However we will be in a pretty bad place if the States can take its attention off China and focuses on us. Our operations have to draw to an end before the negotiations are over." Brody set down his report and gazed around the room. Chris now knew what could possibly go wrong. The revolutionary force would be pressed for time in linking up and beating back the approaching force before the decapitation strike against the States.
"What could possibly go wrong indeed," Chris smiled wryly and turned to prepare his force. The specialists had finally figured out what was so weird with the missiles. Stealth technology on a nuclear warhead-bearing missile brought a whole new fear to the awesome power of these weapons. The States would have no possible way of tracking it back to Elkford. The missiles would be rigged to lose their stealth just in time for the States to assume a Chinese attack and launch their own nuclear weapons against China who would retaliate in turn.
"Chris."
Chris turned around to see James walking towards him. "Sir?"
"The entire resistance is moving out to the prairies to meet up with our eastern friends as you are aware," James stated the obvious. Chris nodded. "We need you to take one air division and your light division to keep the Americans on our doorstep occupied."
Chris was flabbergasted. He was expected to face three armored class-A American divisions with his light division and a single air division. That worked once but he knew that the Americans wouldn't be caught off guard like that again. "Please tell me you've decided to develop a sense of humor," Chris asked doubtfully.
"You don't have to completely destroy them. Just harass them a bit and keep them on their toes," James waved his hand to accentuate his point. "You will have plenty of equipment including some high explosive and chemical missile launches."
Chris slowly nodded again. He was already forming some harassment plans in his mind.
The Americans had re-located at the expense of a few choppers and armored vehicles as they made their way through the forest. The Americans had found a creek that just happened to supply nobody else water. Chris was still thinking how much cyanide it would take to poison the Americans drinking water enough to kill anyone who drank from it. He dismissed the notion immediately though, the chance was too high of making the creek and lake deadly to Canadians too. Instead Chris decided on pouring in a lot of laxative.
* * *
"We have got water and concrete barriers are being constructed," a tense Lonejok gave the report to Jentil. "We have a chain-link fence already up and we have dug more foxholes."
Jentil had absolutely no sleep since the disaster two days before. "And is the command center bomb proofed?"
Lonejok paused a second. "Not yet."
"If our truck was bomb proofed last time we would have seen the jets coming in on our radar. And we wouldn't have had to find new equipment for the new command center," Jentil told Lonejok, gritting his teeth. The vehicles were now running on critical fuel levels. Just enough to defend from rebel attacks. Not enough to send out and enforce the surrounding area. "Set up the SAM vehicles in the interior and put our tanks on the perimeter. Our light vehicles are useless in this thick forest."
"I will have the command are armored immediately." Lonejok snapped a salute and left the tent, sitting in a hole that was dug in the ground. Lonejok looked for an idle construction crew and spotted one almost immediately. A group of fifty engineers were sitting around a disassembled "Cougar" battle tank, doing absolutely nothing. They were put to work in seconds, pouring concrete and setting steel beams in place. There would be no more mistakes.
A small man slipped easily away from the encampment with a lot of information. Enough information to make him a very rich man if he gave it to the right people. He would be saving his own life this way.
* * *
"This is very valuable information," Chris stated after the American gave his report. "Why do you give us this so freely?"
"I value my life," the traitor said evenly with a hint of a quaver in his voice. "My division is not going to survive being here much longer and I want to live."
"If the information you gave us is indeed correct, you will be spared," Chris announced after a few seconds passed. "Take his to holding cell block-A," Chris commanded the guard who brought the turncoat to him. Cell block-A were the luxury rooms for people like these. Valuable assets that he didn't as of yet trust. "Jimmy get in here," he spoke into his headset. Chris waited a couple minutes shuffling papers and examining maps.
"You called, sir?" the recon commander Jimmy Simons snapped a salute as he walked in.
"Yes, I want a full report on the enemy movements and encampment."
"Well the perimeter is guarded by the new Cougar tanks. Those ones the Germans have been working on the past seven years. Fully equipped with infra red, doppler, GPS, 125mm rifled cannon, two .50BMG machine guns, 2000 horsepower diesel engine and smoke launchers as far as we know. The outer perimeter is thick with them. They aren't moving much though, so we were able to a little closer and look at the interior section. The command bunker is being fortified as we speak, but a bunker buster can break it if we need it to. The SAM trucks are set up all over the place to prevent us from doing what we did last time and they have the good old trenches and foxholes around the infantry blocks. They have twenty prefabricated helipads set up for their scouts and gunships. I think that's everything," the recon major finished his report witch had Chris's mouth hanging open by the end of it.
"You have more than earned you're rank and pay this time," Chris said in an amazed tone. "How did you get all this?"
"We covered ourselves an inch thick of gray clay and crawled in on the new moon where it is almost pitch black. They didn't have the floodlights up until thirty-six hours after we blew the crap out of them. It was pitch black under the forest canopy. The trees are still in place for some reason." Jimmy concluded his explanation.
The report matched the turncoat's story exactly. "I want you ready to evac about two hundred men with rocket launchers on our next attack. I suggest breaking out the old amphibious all-terrain vehicles for this job. They don't make much noise and they are very fast.
"May I suggest infiltration before hitting them?" Jimmy asked. "If we can rig the SAM trucks to be destroyed you can have the planes fly in with a bunker buster and take out the command center."
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Chris concluded. "If you can do this and still have enough men to pull out our strike force go ahead."
"It will be done, sir" Jimmy straightened.
"Dismissed."
* * *
Edmonton was ready to crumble. Fort MacMurray was back in Canadian hands once more. The American garrison was severely weakened and was holding out for the advancing Force from the south. Most of the fighting was over with and the Americans had only a few blocks and were fast running out of food, and ammunition, fuel was used up sever days ago. The revolutionary force had captured dozens of tanks and other pieces of equipment that were abandoned in the American retreat. The force from British Columbia was in place right now.
A similar story could be said for Calgary. The Americans holing the North half of the river and the Canadians the south. The Canadians were using the Chinook mall as a high command center and the Calgary tower as forward command. The Americans had blown all but one bridge that was the scene of a vicious and bloody battle. Destroyed vehicles littered the bridge and prevented any other vehicles from trying to make it across. Therefore it was now an infantry and chopper battle. Most choppers that came anywhere near the bridge got blown to pieces in seconds making both sides not want to send them there.
"Grenades on three! Yelled corporal Mendova. The entire front row hiding behind the remains of ruined tanks pulled out grenades. "One," the all pulled the pins, "two", arms cocked back ready to throw, "three," twenty three grenades soared over the barriers towards Canadian positions. About five came back. The whole section erupted into explosions. Today had not been a good one for the Americans. The Canadians had gained almost five hundred feet, pushing the Americans to the edge of the bridge. A guided missile streaked over the bridge towards the Husky building that had recently been the source of almost a hundred other guided missiles. It hit the top section and exploded, ripping a large hole in the side. Apparently there weren't any more missiles hidden in it because there were no more explosions.
"Sir, the Canadians are re-treating," yelled a hopeful private.
"They are trying to re-group lets stop them," Mendova ordered the squad. He gazed down to the dead sergeant and shuddered. Sergeant Khallim's last moments werent pleasant at all. A bullet had found his liver and another his kidneys. He could still see the agonized expression of Khallim's last moments. Mendova gestured the men forward. A stupid thing to do. He automatically made himself a target for Canadian snipers by making himself look like the commander. In scant seconds about six 12.7mm APFSDS rounds hit him in the chest and easily punctured the armored vest, killing him instantly. The others hesitated for a second in the open making themselves targets for infantry with automatic weapons. The American front broke and abandoned the bridge.
The Americans had about six nasty supprises hidden in buildings on the sides of the bridge ending. No doubt the Canadians would use tanks to spearhead the push into the north half of the city when they cleared the bridge. Once they did the six hidden cougar tanks would blow them out of this world. The Americans would go on the offensive again.
"How are we on SAMs?" asked the Colonel in charge of the cities occupation as he and his assistant walked around the university campus.
"Nearly out. We have a rough estimate of fifty. We are low on fuel and all other munitions it seems," the assistant read the reports and charts. "We have very few men capable of battle and even fewer capable of frontline commanding." The assistant lowered his clipboard. "I can say in almost all confidence. We are dead if we continue this much longer."
"I have one final plan I want to try first," the Colonel declared firmly. "If it doesn't work then we will surrender."
The assistant nodded and continued taking notes and calculating numbers.
* * *
A recon squad slipped behind the American lines in the middle of the night, taking care to avoid the floodlights. Half of the tank crews who were the primary detection were sleeping on the job making it easy for the camouflaged group to sneak in and wire the SAMs for demolition. About half of the SAMs were wired when the hit a snag.
"Halt!" yelled a sentry.
The entire recon force froze and looked at the speaker. The sentry only seen one man's feet from under the SAM truck. The mission wasn't completed and they were compromised. The remaining force had to work fast. Several men came running with assault rifles pointed at the feet. The recon soldier came out from under the truck, eyes wide as dinner plates.
"Where is the rest of you're group?" asked the sentry pressing the muzzle of his rifle into the mans temple.
The camouflaged rebel looked at the American defiantly and said, "Never!"
The American sighed. It was always like this in the beginning before torture was applied. The sentry drew his knife and used it to pin the Canadians right hand to the ground. The Canadian bit back a scream of pain and rage. "Now can you tell me where they are?"
"I will die first."
The American was impressed at his resolve. The American reached over and broke the rebels fingers on his left hand. The Canadian grimaced in pain when the American pulled out another knife and pinned his feet together to the ground. He then calmly reached into his backpack for his bayonet and used it to skewer the rebels left hand. The Canadian was crucified to the ground. "Do you still insist on silence?" the American asked in a mocking voice.
"Okay I will tell you," the rebel said in a whimpering pathetic voice. The rest of the squad broke out in a cold sweat, hands reaching for their weapons. "They are preparing the fuel and munitions for demolition," the soldier lied, leading the Americans in completely the wrong side of the camp. "It was my job to go through and scout for strong points." Second squad commander Gerald silently gave his thanks to the doomed man lying crucified on the ground.
"Tell the skipper we have Canadian guerillas inside the camp," the sentry ordered a private who walked over to watch the show. He then looked down at the bleeding Canadian and smirked before leaving. The other Americans hurried off to the other areas of the camp.
Gerald scrambled from the truck when all the Americans were gone and ran to the crucified man in the clearing. When he reached the pale and groaning man he kneeled down and put a hand on the groaning mans cheek. The bloodied nametag told Gerald that the mans name was Tom Hentrif. "You did well," was all he could say to a dying Tom.
"Wire the rest before they figure it out," Tom rasped.
Gerald could feel tears streaming down his face as he cut Toms throat, mercifully ending his life within a couple minutes instead of the hours and hours it was taking. He sobbed silently and wiped off the blade before turning around and gesturing to the SAM trucks. "He endured the pain so that we could finish our mission. Let's not waste his life." The group finished their job and slipped past the guards again on their way out.
* * *
The strike force waited for the signal. In a few minutes the sound of almost thirty SAM launchers blowing up nearly deafened them. That was the signal, now it is time to hit the Americans hard and keep them occupied until the plane flew over. Five hundred men with one in five carrying an anti-tank launcher emerged from the trees, guns blazing. A hundred rockets flew into the enemy tanks before they had time to react. The initial damage was amazing. Nobody knew how many vehicles were destroyed in those few brief seconds but it punched a hole straight through the enemy line. Lighter vehicles rushed in to fill the gap and the machine guns followed the smoke trails killing several men upon arrival. The flexible light vehicles were more suited to this type of combat.
"Second volley!" yelled the major over the headset. This time only eighty rockets flew into the Americans. The small attack force never stayed in one place, they were always moving. They kept up the game until the word that the plane was arriving in thirty seconds. The well-drilled, battle hardened Canadians broke off and headed for their ride out. The reached the vehicles about the same time the small bomber flew over.
Then luck turned against them, a small shoulder launched SAM streaked up from the ground reaching for the plane. The plane dropped a single bomb seconds before the missile hit the fuel tank and blew it into a billion pieces. The bomb streaked towards its target and was almost on the ground before another missile flew from the ground and hit it. The force from the explosion flipped two light vehicles but didn't destroy the command bunker.
"What do we do now?" asked a nervous Danielle from the major's right.
"We follow the plan and get out of here," he said grimly to the young woman.
Four hundred men loaded up (almost a hundred died) on amphibious all terrain vehicles and drove of in seemingly random directions. The separate platoons would meet up at different areas before going back to the hidden base in the mountain behind Fauquier. The enemy commanders still lived; the mission was a failure.
* * *
Edmonton is now a Canadian city. The surviving Americans had surrendered and hundreds of Edmonton's citizens were joining the revolution. Two class-A armored divisions were going with all speed south to Calgary. Several more class-B and C divisions were being assembled, as were many more infantry divisions. By all reports the Americans in Calgary were almost out of supplies and were falling.
"Once we have all of our men linked up we will send them to police the cities and make sure everyone gets into the vaults. If we have a working government after nuclear war we will emerge as a world superpower." The general in charge of putting together divisions finished explaining to one of the new colonels who didn't understand why they were going though all the trouble if they were just going to nuke the States anyway.
"Ah, I see. After the rest of the world has fallen to chaos we can claim all of the parts we like after we come out of the vaults," the colonel's face lit up in understanding.
"Exactly."
A line of American prisoners walked past with a large contingent of Canadians 'prodding' them along. The general noticed the prodding was none to gentle as the prisoners were led away.
* * *
The Canadians had just finished clearing the bridge and were setting up a group of ten tanks to cross the bridge under heavy air and artillery support. The choppers sent missiles to reduce the building on the far side of the bridge to rubble. The old artillery pieces lobbed smoke to conceal the approaching armor.
The American tanks patiently waited. Three were left seeing as the other three were destroyed when the choppers pulverized the area around them.
"We are at the halfway point," forward commander sergeant Stelven announced. The ten Cougar tanks rolled on. "Requesting air support," Stelven spoke into the headset.
"Affirmative," command confirmed the request. In a minute six choppers lifted off and hovered around the tanks. The area on the other side of the bridge was nothing but a pile of rubble. The first tank got off the bridge when it exploded. The tank made a very effective forty-ton roadblock. The compact tank didn't block too much though until the second tank exploded sealing off the right lane. The remaining tanks moved into the left looking for the source.
"Did anyone see where that came from?" asked a random voice over the radio.
"I have visual on one," a chopper pilot confirmed. "I'm sending his straight back to hell." One of the choppers launched a salvo of missiles at the spot where they had seen the flash. The enemy tanks were well hidden under the rubble. But one tank exploded when five multi-purpose missiles impacted the American tank.
The other two tanks were well hidden from air however and continued firing at the approaching armor. One more tank erupted into a ball of fire and scrap metal as it drew close.
"I seen that last one," someone said over the radio. Tank four swiveled its turret towards the left where the flash had come from. The tank sent a HEAT round straight into the remenants of the wall beside the American tank. Then it exploded as the tank returned fire.
"You all seen where that came from. Concentrate you're fire on that area," Stelven ordered the remaining six tanks. The American tank was shredded and twisted beyond recognition after the six HEAT rounds got direct hits on it. Stelven examined the screen and seen the flash of another tanks shot, it was right ahead of them this time. The shot missed and Stelven gave the order to destroy it. Again the tank did not survive. Six Canadian tanks rolled off the bridge and into the street on the north half of Calgary.
Right behind the tanks came APCs filled with shock troops and choppers sent soldiers rappelling down onto rooftops of surviving buildings. More armor made its way through and the Canadians had established a foothold in the north half of Calgary.
* * *
"Well the plan did not work," the colonels assistant stated the obvious.
The American colonel in charge of holding Calgary slumped in his chair behind his desk.
"There is a large force headed our way from the north. The Canadians to the south are pushing forward and getting closer to us every minute. We are desperately low on fuel, ammo, food and medical supplies. And to cap it all off morale is the lowest I've ever seen it." The assistant ended the summary.
"Order the surrender," the colonel gave in and put his head on his desk then broke down and started sobbing.
The Americans all stood out in the campus with their hands behind their heads with looks on their faces that could make the stone itself feel sorry for them. The Canadians secured them, processed them and sent them off for the prisons. Canada was back in Canadian hands.
* * *
Chris watched as keys were turned, buttons were pressed and switches were flicked on the TV in front of him. He was calm. The world was about to be plunged into nuclear warfare and he felt calmer than he had been in months. Chris watched the screen from Fauquier as four ICBMs lifted themselves out of the silos in Elkford. He remembered the night he had led the assault on the base containing those weapons and wondered if he really should have. Either way it made no difference now. The nuclear weapons streaked away towards their American targets. They did not appear on the radar he noticed; they did work after all.
In twenty minutes the missiles were stripped of their stealth and sent NORAD into frenzy. Almost one thousand ICBMs, SLCMs and SLBMs were sent on their way to China. Each missile bearing at least one nuclear warhead. It took another ten minutes for china to launch their own nuclear arsenal and the rest of the world fell into a brutal, bitter war.
Millions of Canadians were sent into the vaults and other bunkers. They were careful to maintain contact and a working government even underground. Billions died in the coming year.
