William Weber - Turning the Tide

“By selling your country out to the Chinese? Geez, Ray, if you’d told me you did it for a boatload of money or a harem of young girls maybe I could see it in you.”

“It’s about being on the winning side, John. And when they finally roll in here and take everyone you’ve ever loved? What will you have then?”

“My dignity, Ray. I’ll have my dignity and the knowledge that when the going got tough, I still had my faith. It’s easy to give up. Trust me, I know. After Iraq I was three-quarters of the way there, but I didn’t check the odds, I fought back and with everything I had.”

Both men sat staring at one another.

John was the first to break the silence. “They’re gonna kill you, Ray. And it won’t be a quick one either.”

Ray winced.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just shooting straight. Unless you can give me a reason to spare your life, and it better be a darn good reason, even I won’t be able to help you out of this one.”

Ray scanned the room, searching every nook and cranny, perhaps for a way out.

“Do they know?” John asked.

“Who?”

“The Chinese. Do they know you’ve been made?”

Ray shook his head.

“What about other agents?”

“In Oneida? There aren’t any.”

“You sure? What about David?”

“The kid’s innocent,” Ray said with disgust. “His only crime was pulling his pants down in the forest to do his business. People latched onto him so tight, he had me convinced I would never get caught. He was a scapegoat, nothing else.”

Another pause as John let Ray’s new reality sink in a little.

“You got some good men killed. That’s something I’ll never forgive you for. But you’ve got a chance to work for us now, Ray, and maybe, just maybe you can start making amends for what you’ve done.” John stood and walked to the door. “So, Phoenix. What’ll it be? Will you work for us now or should we start measuring the hangman’s rope?”

Ray’s eyes stayed glued to the table and suddenly John could see he was no longer looking at a captured Chinese agent, he was watching an old man who’d sold his soul to the devil, one who wasn’t sure if he would ever get it back.

Ray spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m in.”

“I think it’s time we set David Newbury free,” John told General Brooks and Colonel Higgs. The three men were in the dark room watching a deflated Ray Gruber through the two-way mirror.

“We’ve already seen to that,” Brooks replied. “But he can’t stay in Oneida, not anymore. In the minds of a lot of folks here, he’s still guilty.”

“We sure did jump to conclusions,” John admitted. “We learned an important lesson here. Knowing there’s a mole in your midst has a nasty habit of making the best of us paranoid. I’m just sorry David had to be the one to suffer for that.”

General Brooks opened a file and tossed it on the table in front of John.

“What’s this?”

“A report from the front lines,” Higgs informed him. “Seems the Chinese have redeployed a sizeable portion of their forces to meet the NATO threat from the north.”

“So Ray already sent it in?”

Brooks flipped the page. “He did, along with info on the planned mission to blow up a trainload of supplies that never existed.”

“I had a feeling,” John said, unable to stop seeing the faces of the three men he’d just lost. “I guess that’s what counter-espionage is all about, right? Lie to your friends and hope the information somehow makes its way back to the enemy.”

Brooks handed John another folder, this one with the words TOP SECRET stamped across the top in red letters. Inside was the outline for an operation called Anvil. It looked like a full-out assault on the Chinese forces camped along the foothills of the Appalachians. Listed among the American and allied forces were ten divisions of NATO troops. But they weren’t coming in from the north, as the Chinese believed. The landing in Halifax had been one of those little fibs John had alluded to earlier. It wasn’t a complete lie, of course. A single division had come ashore and was pushing south. The Chinese had to believe some sort of relief force had arrived. The main landing, however, had come through the port of Norfolk nearly a week ago, and most of the men and materiel were being sent to reinforce the American center in preparation for the main thrust.

John shook his head.

Both General Brooks and Higgs looked on in surprise.

“You finally got your offensive, John.” Brooks paused. “I thought you’d be more pleased.”

“The Chinese are dug in all along the line,” John told them. “There’s too much that can go wrong launching a frontal attack.”

“Yes, but our side’s been stockpiling ammunition and fuel for one giant push,” Brooks countered.

“I’m sure they have, and so did Hitler in the winter of 1944 when he threw everything he had against the Allies. As you surely know, they had limited fuel for their Panzers, which meant that if the Germans didn’t seize fuel depots soon enough, the entire advance would grind to a halt.”

“We don’t need another history lesson, John,” Brooks shot back. “I’m showing you this plan out of courtesy, not to get your okay.”

“I appreciate that, General. I just think there’s a better way.”

Brooks sighed and grabbed the folder back.

“It can’t hurt to hear him out,” Higgs said.

Brooks was seated now, looking like a child who hadn’t gotten his way.

“Those who fail to learn from history…” John began.

“Are bound to repeat it,” Brooks said impatiently. “Yes, we know. What is your suggestion?”

John glanced through the two-way mirror at Ray Gruber. “I say we used the one asset the Chinese will never suspect. First we get Phoenix to feed the enemy false intel that our troops are starving and deserting every day by the thousands and that our center line is on the verge of collapse. With the threat of a large NATO relief army bearing down on them from the North, the Chinese supreme commander might realize it’s now or never and throw everything he has right at the American center. Then we do to the Chinese what the Carthaginians under Hannibal did to the Romans at the battle of Cannae.”

“We pull our men back in the center, feigning a rout,” Higgs said.

“Precisely. We draw the Chinese in until they’re fully committed and then we swing our flanks in and snap the trap shut.” John pushed his hands out and then clapped them together to emphasise his point.

“But what about the NATO forces?” Brooks asked, perking up in his chair.

“When the Chinese realize they’re being surrounded,” John told them, “that’s when NATO pushes up through the center and annihilates what’s trapped in the pocket.”

“Well, I’ll run it by General Dempsey, Colonel Mack, but I can’t promise you he’ll go for it.”

“Then tell him it was your idea.”

Brooks looked up, surprised. “It’s your plan,” the general said. “You deserve the credit or the reproach.”

“I don’t care for either one,” John replied without flinching. “If I had it my way, I’d be back at my cabin, clearing a patch of land so I could start growing some simple crops.”

Colonel Higgs smiled. “You’re the last of a dying breed, John. A true citizen soldier.”

Higgs was talking about the tradition during the Roman Republic of soldiers who would hang up their weapons and armor after the conclusion of a campaign in order to return to the family farm.

From inside the interrogation room, Ray began calling John’s name.

“John, if you can hear me, there’s something important you might wanna know. It’s about Brandon.”