Invasion: Colorado (50 page)

“Diver,” she said to the Lion Guardsman. “Please instruct the security officer to come to my window.”

The East Lightning officer heard her. His face moved away from the driver’s window. Shun Li opened her window and withdrew her credentials from a packet. This didn’t make sense to her as a way to get in, but she faced the angry-looking officer staring down at her suspiciously.

Before she could hand him the credentials, two loud
phuts
went off beside her head. She whirled around. Tang held a big silenced pistol, with smoke curling from the barrel. Outside the car, the East Lightning officer crumpled onto the cement.

Three doors opened and the Lion Guardsmen boiled out. Shun Li watched in amazement. East Lightning officers also watched for just a moment. That moment proved too long for them. The Lion Guardsman killed each of the security officers. They gut-shot most, so the officers clutched their stomachs. Then they blew away the faces.

At Tang’s orders, the Lion Guardsmen dragged the officers into the shack.

“Make the call,” Tang told her.

Shaking from surprise, Shun Li climbed out of the car and went to the guard shack. With trembling hands, she patched herself through to the next checkpoint.

“Be confident,” Tang whispered. “You have the Chairman’s complete backing.”

This is the play of my life
, she realized. It had been some time now, but she resumed the arrogance of a Guardian Inspector in North America. She spoke to the officer in charge of the next checkpoint.

“Do you recognize this badge?” she asked. She spoke via a screen and held up the Leader’s personal badge of unique design.

The East Lightning officer on the screen scowled at her.

“Check the badge’s authenticity against your secret roster,” she ordered.

The officer did so, and he appeared surprised. “It is genuine?” he asked.

“You know it is,” she said. “But check the code eleven points of confirmation just to make sure.”

He typed and read something on a split screen. He appeared even more surprised, and he lost some of his angry arrogance. He bowed his head to her. “How can I be of service, sir?”

Either the East Lightning officer was a superb actor or Xiao’s coup plans hadn’t reached the lower ranked operatives. She would have been amazed if most of them did know. Xiao seemingly worked with the Army. The secret police and the military were natural enemies and they were seldom in agreement. It was more than likely he worked with only a few of the highest ranked officers and in secrecy.

She explained the situation to the guard officer, and she saw the operative’s nervousness, but he nodded once again.

“Be ready for us,” she said. After signing off, she turned to Tang. “Let’s go.”

The Lion Guardsmen piled into the blocky car. They passed the next checkpoints, and ten minutes later, Shun Li was amazed to find herself marching down the long corridors toward Xiao Yang’s office. Behind followed seven high-ranking East Lightning officers. They were wary and kept glancing at each other. On two different occasions, an East Lightning officer had phoned the number Shun Li gave him. The man listened to Chairman Hong telling him that Shun Li had full authority to do as she saw fit.

It worked so far. The great test approached.

The group turned the corner to Xiao Yang’s office.

“The Police Minister has cameras,” one of the East Lightning officers said.

“Break down the door,” Tang ordered the lead Lion Guardsmen.

Two of the big men sprinted, building up speed. They didn’t try the handle. The first guardsman launched himself at the door, bashing against it with his shoulder. Splintering sounds followed, but the door held. The second Lion Guardsman did the same thing. The door crashed inward.

The three other Lion Guardsmen rushed through the door and fanned out. Xiao Yang was on the phone. He looked up in what might have been surprise. The ceiling lights shined in the lenses of his glasses, giving him an inhuman quality. Even so, Shun Li was slow in drawing her pistol.

Tang drew his heavy revolver. He’d unscrewed the silencer some time ago. The gun barked three times and the magazine must have held exploding bullets. Xiao’s head shattered and the body blew backward, crumpling onto the floor behind the desk.

As one, the five Lion Guardsmen whirled around, aiming their guns at the East Lightning officers. Shun Li opened her mouth to calm everyone. The guns roared until the East Lightning officers lay dead and twisted on the carpet.

Shocked, Shun Li turned to Tang. He faced her, with his gun aimed at her belly.

“Am I next?” she whispered.

Tang shook his head. “Chairman Hong instructed me to purge the leadership. I have done so. Now, it is time for you to grab the reins of the Police Ministry. We will remain with you for a few days, until you feel yourself sufficiently in control.”

She stepped close to him so only he could hear. “Do you love me, Tang?”

The big man hesitated. “I serve China, Shun Li. I cannot love anything else. But I have enjoyed our times together.”

“I see.” And she thought she did. The barracuda had survived the killer whale and great white shark. Now it was time to become something more than a barracuda or she would end up like Xiao Yang.

She went to the former Police Minister’s desk, deciding her first order of business was to search for secret documents. She wanted to find everything Xiao had pertaining to the Denver Behemoth Manufacturing Plant.

-14-

Phase II, Continued

From
Military History: Past to Present
, by Vance Holbrook:

Invasion of Midwestern America, Phase II, 2039-2040

2039, December 2-10. Breakthrough.
The Americans and Canadians achieved operational surprise against the Aggressor forces along the Platte River in Nebraska. In a bold tank assault, Army Group Washington burst between PAA Third Front and SAF First Front and drove to Colorado Springs. The Americans encircled the bulk of Third Front and fought off the initial Chinese and Brazilian counterattacks.

2039-2040, December 10-January 3. The Pocket Tightens.
In the bitter winter weather, the Americans and Canadians continued to repulse every Chinese and Brazilian effort to break through to the trapped troops of Third Front. Giant air battles occurred as the Chinese attempted a vast airlift of supplies. American tac-lasers and growing SAM belts soon made the air operation too costly to continue.

To the east, Fourth Front pulled back in a fighting withdrawal. The Americans attacked out of St. Louis but were unsuccessful in trapping Fourth Front as they had done to Third Front.

2040, January 3-February 22. Marshal Gang takes over
. After a swift political rearrangement, Hong relinquished direct military oversight of the North American Invasion. The Ruling Committee entrusted the position to Marshal Gang, formerly of First Front. Gang became the Commander-in-Chief of North America.

The last efforts to relieve the shrinking pocket holding Third Front failed. Using the Allied preoccupation with Third Front, Marshal Gang instituted the Great Pull Back.

In carefully arranged moves, which became the trademark of Gang’s oversight, the Aggressors successfully withdrew to the New Mexico-Oklahoma-Arkansas Line. There, Gang began to rebuild the weakened forces, pumping reinforcements into the tired divisions.

Renewed anti-guerrilla and partisan hunting campaigns proved the Aggressor intention of continuing the invasion assault come summer.

COMMENT.
Chancellor Kleist’s offer and acceptance of GD neutrality allowed the Americans to make one of the greatest comebacks in history. Excessive Chinese aggressiveness and by exhausting their formations in the winter cold proved costly for both the Pan-Asian Alliance and to a lesser degree for the South American Federation. When the starving Third Front surrendered on March 15, over one million Pan-Asian Alliance soldiers marched into captivity. Hundreds of thousands had already died in the bitter winter battles. Perhaps no other coalition could have endured such staggering losses and continued to believe in ultimate victory. It was a testimony to Chinese tenacity and the lure of the productive American heartland in a world increasingly on the brink of worldwide Ice Age starvation
.

MONTREAL, QUEBEC

John Red Cloud sat on a bench in a cold winter park in Montreal. The slates of the bench pressed against his back, as did a nub or rounded bolt of iron. The city was no longer Montreal, Canada, but Montreal of the nation of Quebec, a full member of the German Dominion.

An arctic wind blew through the park, whipping up icy particles and causing empty playground swings to ease back and forth. John didn’t shiver. He wore a thick parka with the fur-lined hood up and a thick pair of mittens. Still, when the gusts howled loudest, it felt as if someone shoved him in the back.

He thought about the news this morning. The last Chinese soldier in the embattled pocket around Cheyenne had surrendered to the Americans. That was historic. The Americans had obviously seized the opportunity given them. The Rocky Mountain victory should have brought an end to the war. That it hadn’t yet meant something important.

John sighed. He had a feeling he knew what that significance meant. He had not only read about Cheyenne on the blogs, but about the new Rationing Law that the Germans had so kindly inflicted upon the Quebecers. It was the second intrusive law the foreigners from across the Atlantic Ocean had forced on the new nation.

Did we make a mistake by accepting GD help?

By the “we”, John did not mean the rest of the Quebecers. He cared little about what happened to Quebec unless it related to the Algonquin Nation.

Several days ago, John had spoken to the GD ambassador. John had reminded the Berliner of promises made to him in secret and to the Algonquin Nation.

The ambassador had been polite at first. The man checked some computer files and smiled to him afterward. The tall man from Berlin had the gall to tell him there were no such accords on record. He suggested that John must be mistaken.

John had insisted the ambassador must know about the accord. He had come to Montreal as the Nation’s representative and he wished to begin membership proceedings with the German Dominion. John had even shown the ambassador his Algonquin credentials.

After studying the credentials in detail, the annoyed ambassador had said, “I will keep these.”

“I did not give them for you to keep.”

“I’m not sure I appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t care what you appreciate. Return my credentials to me at once.”

The ambassador had pressed a button. The door opened and two thick Germans with guns had entered.

“Mr. Red Cloud,” the ambassador had said. “Let me make this perfectly clear. The Dominion allows native identities to flourish. But we will not allow any terrorist activity or a fractioning of the new nation of Quebec. The Algonquin people have our best wishes. Unfortunately, your numbers—or lack of them, should I say—does not allow us to recognize you as a country. You are part of Quebec, and Quebec is part of the German Dominion. Do I make myself clear?”

John hadn’t answered. Instead, he had stared at the ambassador, memorizing the face.

With a flick of his polished fingers, the ambassador had said, “Remove him.”

The two guards had escorted John out of the building, but not before writing down his driver’s license number. The telling moment came when one of them had called it his identity card.

John Red Cloud of the Algonquin Nation now sat on a bench in a freezing Montreal park. He endured the wind and the cold as he waited.

He had been walking the city streets these past few days. He had counted the number of armored cars with GD lettering on them. He’d observed detachments of assault rifle-armed squads patrolling the streets.

At times, he stood on a street corner and watched big GD Army trucks roar toward the highways. The number of trucks, the tank carriers—John had been on his smart phone, placing calls.

As he sat on the park bench, he did some mental arithmetic. It caused his leathery eyelids to lower into a hunter’s squint.

There had to be over two million GD soldiers in Quebec. That was more than the Germans had put in Cuba. It was more than they needed to stop an American-Canadian invasion of Quebec.

Two million GD soldiers could not defeat the Americans. Maybe they could conquer the rest of Canada—if the Americans did nothing.

Two million Germans combined with the Pan-Asian Alliance and the South American Federation could well turn the tide of the war. Yet how could the Chinese trust the Germans after what Chancellor Kleist had done to them?

John Red Cloud sighed once more. He widened his eyes and looked up at the harsh sky. There were never any good choices for the Algonquin People.

The Germans had imposed rationing laws and movement laws on the Quebecers, which meant on the Algonquians as well.

As John sat on the bench, waiting, he noticed three men crossing the park. One was tall with a heavy coat. That one walked fast. Two shorter but thicker men followed. They hunched and they kept swiveling their heads, looking about.

As they neared his bench, one of the thicker men shouted. The tall man looked up. The thick man pointed at John. The tall man said something that was lost in the wind.

The two thicker men approached John. He recognized them. He should, as he’d been waiting for them. They were the two security men and belonged to the GD ambassador, the tall man waiting behind them.

Before John had gone to see the ambassador, he had been watching and studying the man’s habits. It was good to know your enemies, but it was even better to know your friends. Or who should have been his friends.

John took off one of his mittens and partly zipped open his parka. He did it in such a way that neither of the security men witnessed his action. Old habits died hard. He was bitter, and he realized this wouldn’t help his people. That didn’t matter. The ambassador had insulted the Algonquin Nation by treating their representative as he had. John could have farmed out the payback, but that wasn’t his way. He was the representative; he would repay the insult. Then he would begin his campaign to fight in the only way a small nation could, though cunning and ruthlessness.