Уильям Дитц: Seek and Destroy

Sloan felt the train slow as it pulled into Union Depot Station. As Sloan looked out the window, he saw a large crowd waiting for him. That was in stark contrast to the thinly attended events held on his behalf months before.

Sloan was scanning his stump speech, looking for places where he could make mention of Minneapolis–St. Paul, when his Chief of Staff entered the compartment. She was dressed in a blue business suit, and her black hair was cut pageboy style, with bangs that hung down to her eyebrows. “Excuse me, Mr. President, but Secretary Henderson is here… He’d like to speak with you.”

Sloan frowned. “George is here ? That’s a surprise. Of course. Send him in.”

Chow opened the door, waited for Henderson to enter, and withdrew. Sloan stood and extended his hand. “Good afternoon, George… What’s up?”

“Nothing good,” Henderson replied, as they shook hands.

Sloan sighed. “Okay, have a seat. Lay it on me.”

Henderson sank into a well-padded chair. “It’s about Canada, Mr. President.”

“ Canada? What about it?”

“Canada invaded the United States just before dawn this morning. Or, more specifically, Canadian troops invaded the state of Maine.”

Sloan laughed. “Get serious.”

“I am serious,” Henderson replied. “General Jones will brief you soon. He’s on his way… But I wanted to make sure you received news of the incursion before you gave your speech. So the American people can hear it from you.”

“Thank you, but Maine ? Just Maine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But why ?” Sloan demanded. “Don’t the Canadians have enough maple syrup?”

Henderson offered a weak smile. “I don’t know for sure, Mr. President. They haven’t said. But two possibilities come to mind. First, it could be a land grab, pure and simple. The current government is both conservative and nationalistic.”

“Okay,” Sloan said. “And the second possibility is?”

“The second possibility stems from the first,” Henderson replied. “According to a report from the CIA, Confederate diplomats were spotted in Ottawa recently. And the libertarian principles espoused by CEO Lemaire’s government are quite similar to those put forward by Canada’s newly elected prime minister.”

Sloan knew the “libertarian principles” that Henderson referred to would transform landed citizens into “shareowners” who would “own” a portion of the country. Corporations, which were people according to Lemaire, could buy shares and vote them. All in the name of “free markets.” “So you’re saying that the two governments are in cahoots?” Sloan demanded. “Anything’s possible, I guess… But why attack Maine?”

“General Jones has a theory about that,” Henderson replied. “He thinks it’s a way to suck resources away from General Hern—making it easier for the Confederates to hold the line south of Murfreesboro.”

Sloan considered that. The second theory made sense. If he ignored the attack on Maine, it would seem as if he’d written the state off, thereby alienating the entire country. Yet by sending troops to Maine, he’d weaken General Hern’s forces, and that’s what the Confederates wanted him to do. If true, it was a brilliant stroke on their part… And one he was completely unprepared for.

What about the rest of the almost four-thousand-mile-long border with Canada? All of it was undefended. The Canucks could launch a dozen mini-invasions if they wanted to… And Sloan would have to respond to each one.

The crowd on the platform was waving signs and chanting his name. What would he tell them? How would they react? Why was he so stupid? Someone should have been thinking about Canada… And that someone was him.

FORT HOOD, TEXAS

The air should have been eighty-five degrees instead of sixty-five. But that’s how things were now that less sunlight reached the surface of the planet. Still, the cooler air would make for a comfortable run. Not a long one, just 3.15 miles around an oval-shaped course located just off Sadowski Road.

The run was a daily ritual… something Victoria Macintyre did each morning before taking a shower and reporting to work at Fort Hood’s Special Forces Command.

As Victoria ran, she heard the rhythmic slap, slap, slap of feet coming up from behind her and pulled over to let the fast mover by. Except that he didn’t pass, and when she turned to look, Victoria saw that General Bo Macintyre was running next to her. Her father had a high forehead, arched eyebrows, and intense eyes. His typical “I don’t give a shit” grin was firmly in place. “I knew I could find you here… You’re way too predictable. That could get you killed.”

“Would that bother you?”

“Of course it would,” he answered. “Good officers are hard to find.”

And that, Victoria knew, was as mushy as any conversation with her father was going to get. That was fine with her. They knew what they knew, and there was no need to discuss it constantly. Would Robin agree? No, she liked the gushy stuff.

Bo began to pull ahead, just as he always did, trying to finish first. Victoria knew that her sister Robin would allow him to beat her, and Bo would resent it. He wanted to win fair and square or not at all. So Victoria increased her pace, blew past him, and left her father in the dust. She was sitting on a bench when he finished the run. He plopped down beside her. “I’m getting old.”

Victoria nodded. “And cantankerous.”

“I’ve always been cantankerous.”

“True… I can’t argue with that.”

Bo smiled. “I have orders for you.” Victoria reported to a colonel, who reported to Bo and was careful to stay out of the way.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“There’s a warlord in Wyoming. His name is Robert Howard. He was a Green Beret before the meteor strikes. Then he went over the hill—and took two of his buddies with him. Now he calls himself the warlord of warlords, and he controls a large chunk of north-central Wyoming. More than that,” Bo added, “Howard claims to be the reincarnated spirit of Subutai.”

Victoria frowned. “Genghis Khan’s chief strategist.”

“Exactly,” Bo said approvingly. “As Subutai, Howard claims to be the spiritual nexus around whom other members of Khan’s horde are supposed to organize prior to fighting a war for world dominance. That’s when the Khan will return to rule them. It’s total bullshit, needless to say, but an idiot is born every minute.”

Victoria eyed him. “Okay, and we care because?”

“We care because Howard is, and could continue to be, a destabilizing force. For example, Howard sent suicide bombers to kill Sloan a week ago and damned near succeeded.”

Victoria nodded. “According to the Intel summary, Sloan killed two people himself.”

“The man has balls,” Bo admitted. “And he’s a bigger problem than Lemaire thought he’d be.”

“Okay, I get it,” Victoria replied. “Howard is a good thing. For the moment at least.”

“Correct,” her father confirmed. “So the general staff wants you to go up there, give Howard a present, and make nice. The more resources he sucks away from General Hern’s army, the better. Hern is a grinder… Once he takes a yard of ground, he tends to hold it… And we need a way to weaken him.”