Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

“Please remember that a significant amount of radiation was released into the atmosphere, however. So if you live in an area where one or more warheads exploded, be sure to follow the instructions provided by state and local authorities. Scientists assure me that so long as citizens take the right precautions, they should be fine. But if you, or someone you know, has symptoms of what could be radiation poisoning, see a doctor right away.

“Now let’s ask ourselves some very important questions. Why was the Confederate government willing to use nuclear weapons? And how should we respond? What I’m about to say falls under the heading of conjecture… That’s all we have to work with since the enemy hasn’t seen fit to comment on their motivations.

“But to my mind, the sudden escalation from conventional weapons to nuclear weapons signals weakness and desperation. Having been unable to take more of our territory, it appears that President Lemaire and his flunkies are turning to a different strategy. What if their new goal is to lay waste to the North, in the hope that they can create a state of continual chaos and simply wall us off? If that’s their plan, they might decide to fire nuclear-armed missiles at population centers. To counter that possibility, we will continue to expand the Iron Shield system and put appropriate civil-defense measures in place.”

Sloan stared into the cameras. “Regardless of their reasoning, we need to respond. But how ? After I heard what happened to the town of Belle Plain, I wanted revenge, and my first impulse was to launch a counterstrike, knowing that the Confederacy doesn’t have an effective antimissile system. So our missiles were likely to get through.

“But as emotionally satisfying as that would have been, I remembered something very important. Who would die when our missiles fell? The oligarchs in their underground shelters? No, they would be safe. The casualties, and there would be thousands of them, would consist of the people who allowed themselves to be co-opted.

“Some might say that they deserve to die for supporting an evil government… And I can understand that view. Yet what about our first civil war? Reconstruction wasn’t pretty, but it beat the alternatives.

“So,” Sloan added, “the following message is for the oligarchs and the people who support them. Do not use tactical nuclear weapons again. If you do, we will intercept most, if not all of them, and retaliate in kind. There will be no further warnings and no negotiations. Just death raining down from the sky. And consider this… Rather than fighting a war you can’t win, how about agreeing to a cease-fire in place? Let’s exchange words instead of bullets.”

There was no applause. Just jagged spears of lightning on the horizon, followed by the soft mutter of thunder. Rain began to fall, and Sloan looked up into the sky. Was a satellite staring down at him? Probably.

“Mr. President?”

Sloan turned to see that the general was getting wet. “Come on, General… I hope air force coffee tastes better than the sludge the navy serves. Let’s get out of the rain.”

NEW MADRID, MISSOURI

The Humvee slowed to a crawl as it followed a six-by-six into a traffic jam. Mac had never been to the river town of New Madrid before, which wasn’t too surprising since it was a small community with a population of only three thousand people. She had looked it up, however—and been interested to discover that the Battle of Island Number Ten had been fought there.

Back during the first civil war, the Confederates had been determined to prevent the Union Army from using the Mississippi River as a path south. It took the Northern army a month to break through—but they did on April 8, 1862. And now, more than 150 years later, the town of New Madrid was about to play a role in the Second Civil War.

From what Mac could see, New Madrid was a pleasant place, or had been, before the military came to town. Now the streets were clogged with trucks carrying supplies for Flotilla 4. Whatever that was.

The orders had come down shortly after the attack on Fort Riley. Mac’s Marauders were to pack up and drive to New Madrid. Once there, Mac was supposed to report to Colonel George Russell who, according to what she’d been able to learn, was a member of the Army Corps of Engineers and Flotilla 4’s commanding officer. And that was the extent of what she knew. Her driver braked as an MP waved them down. He tossed Mac a salute as she opened the side window. “Where are you headed, ma’am?”

“We’re Mac’s Marauders,” she told him. “I have twenty Strykers loaded with troops plus some support vehicles. Where do you want us?”

The MP consulted a clipboard and nodded. “Right. Follow the road into town. When you see the car wash, turn right and drive into the field beyond. It’s all yours.”

“Thanks. And where would I find Colonel Russell?”

“His office is on the Mississippi ,” the soldier replied. “Go down to the river. You can’t miss her.”

Mac thanked him, returned a salute, and turned to her driver. “You heard the man… Take a right at the car wash.”

They didn’t have far to go, but it still took fifteen minutes to get there. Once they arrived, Mac was pleased to see a hand-lettered sign with MAC’S MRDRS on it, plus a row of sanikans and a green Dumpster. The preparations were too good to be true! It appeared that someone was on the ball.

Roy Quick arrived a few minutes later, and Mac went over to speak with him. “We’ve got plenty of room, so spread the vehicles out and throw revetments up to protect them on three sides. And let’s get a perimeter in place.”

Quick nodded. “I like what I see… But we’re going to need water.”

“I’m about to check in,” she told him. “I’ll ask Colonel Russell about that.”

As Quick left, Mac turned to find that Corporal Atkins was standing a few feet away. The ever-present RTO weighed no more than 110 pounds but never complained about the gear she was required to carry. Her eyes were huge behind the lenses of her army-issue “birth control” glasses. “Ma’am?”

“Come on… We’re going to visit the man.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The river was a block and a half to the east. The water had a greenish-brown appearance, and the eastern bank appeared to be relatively close. Or was that an island? Mac wasn’t sure.

Mac got her first look at the vessels of Flotilla 4 as she passed a cluster of shiny storage silos. They were moored to the orange buoys anchored offshore. A white-over-red pusher boat was moored in front of Mac. And its blunt bow was in contact with the first of two empty barges, both of which were equipped with cranes.

But the pusher boat and its barges were dwarfed by the large motor vessel moored to Mac’s left. It was well over two hundred feet long and a plaque bearing the name MISSISSIPPI was clearly visible on the ship’s starboard side. Mac noticed that a gun tub had been installed on the boat’s bow, where a group of sailors were gathered around an M163 Vulcan Air-Defense System. The weapon hadn’t been designed for shipboard use but would probably work.

Mac led Atkins to the point where a couple of smart-looking soldiers were guarding the riverboat’s aluminum gangplank. One of them saluted. “Good afternoon, ma’am… Can I help you?”

“Yes. I’m Major Macintyre, and I’d like to see Colonel Russell if that’s possible.”

The soldier nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We were told to expect you. Can I see your ID please?”

After showing their cards, both women were allowed to cross the gangplank. It bounced under their boots. Once aboard, Mac stopped a passing sailor. “Where would I find Colonel Russell?”