back and the four soldiers ground their rifle butts onto the corridor’s marble floor.
Nung raised his eyebrows as he peered into the chamber. The Leader—Jian Hong—sat at the farthest end of the conference table. He was a medium-sized man with dark hair, darker eyes and wearing a black suit of the finest silk. The Leader motioned him within.
Once more, Nung complied and the doors shut behind him.
The five other members of the Ruling Committee already attended the Leader, sitting along the table’s sides. There was Deng Fong the Foreign Minister, in his early eighties but with the smooth skin of a baby. He had received skin-tucks, but laser surgery could do nothing for his weak left eye, which had closed and marred his otherwise “youthful” features. The other four members held varying posts, although Nung knew each by the man’s main occupation. There was the Police Minister, the Army Chief of Staff, the Navy Minister and the Agricultural Minister.
The Leader had attained the highest office, Nung knew, but he did not yet wield supreme power as the old Chairman once had. Deng resisted the Leader and was still too powerful to simply oust or assassinate without serious repercussions. The Navy and Agricultural Ministers often sided with Deng. Perhaps as important, many of China’s subject states and allies trusted Deng’s good judgment. The Japanese particularly liked him, which meant the Koreans hated the Foreign Minister. The Koreans had never forgotten how arrogantly the Japanese had ruled over them before and during World War II. The most powerful Southeast Asian allies took their cue from Deng and might well leave the Pan Asian Alliance if he simply dropped from sight. The same could be said for the German Dominion Chancellor.
“We have been waiting for you,” the Leader said.
Nung nodded respectfully.
“You will sit there,” the Leader said, pointing at a chair farthest from him.
Nung marched to the chair, noting his place had a computer scroll. As he sat, Nung greeted the Army Chief of Staff, an old foe named Marshal Kao: his tall shoulders were bowed with age. Kao hardly acknowledged him, turning away to tap the screen of his own computer scroll.
“We have been waiting for you, Marshal Nung,” the Leader repeated. “We have a momentous decision to make, an ominous choice with worldwide repercussions.” He scanned the others, a frown changing his features, making him seem sterner than Nung remembered.
Jian Hong had always been known as a clever man, a keen intriguer and quick-witted in speech. Over seven years ago, he had been Deng Fong’s protegee, a “young” climber in the Socialist-Nationalist Party. Back then, Jian had accepted the post of Agricultural Minister and failed to meet harvest quotas due to increasing glaciation. Then he had backed the Alaskan attack and through it had gained fame, most of it by Nung’s actions on the Arctic ice. Nung had never challenged the official story, as it gave him a powerful patron on the Ruling Committee. Despite the Army Chief of Staff’s hatred, Nung had risen high these past seven years. If he succeeded in his coming tasks… there was no telling how high he could reach, perhaps even to the Ruling Committee itself. The past seven years had shown him that nothing was impossible.
After the Alaskan War, the old Chairman had deteriorated. He’d summoned his nephew, a Vice-Admiral who had botched most of his tasks during the war. Nevertheless, trusting blood over ability, the Chairman had raised his nephew, granting him the post of commander of the Lion Guard and becoming the Chairman’s Representative on the Ruling Committee. The nephew, a lazy man with a strong streak of cruelty, had surprisingly risen to the task. The youngster—a man of forty-three—had begun intriguing immediately. He kept the Chairman secluded and soon began to shuffle his own people into higher and more important posts. The final straw had been when the nephew took the post of Minister of the Navy for himself. Out of fear, Jian and Deng had allied against him. During the height of the short Hawaiian Campaign, the Chairman’s nephew fatally crashed into the side of a mountain, everyone in his transport plane burning to death. Afterward, news leaked out that the Chairman had been dead in his underground bunker several months already.
Nung used to wonder if that was true. If it was false, who would have dared to kill the Chairman? The answer to such a question could be found in who had benefited the most from the Chairman’s passing. Jian Hong, the Leader, would be that person. Perhaps that’s why Jian feared assassination so desperately. People often feared in others what they themselves would most likely attempt.
The Leader now stood and put his manicured fingertips on the table. Their reflective quality matched the shiny tabletop, as if each tried to outdo the other.
“I have summoned the Ruling Committee and Marshal Nung so we can decide today what to do with the Americans. By now, each of you has read the secret report from East Lightning. The Americans managed to infiltrate elite commandos behind our lines in Mexico. In some fashion, they learned about Blue Swan. A convoy transporting a Blue Swan missile was destroyed en route. Worse, pieces of the warhead were ferried back to America. My analysts inform me that we must presume the Americans have uncovered the missile’s purpose. If that is so, they can conceivably counter its action in the coming conflict.”
The Leader glanced at the others, finally focusing on Deng. “Do you have a comment, Foreign Minister?”
“May I ask about the nature of Blue Swan?”
“Marshal Nung, would you explain the situation, the reason why we needed the missile?” the Leader asked.
Nung folded his hands on the table, clearing his throat and leaning forward so he could look at Deng.
“Sir, the Americans have heavily fortified the southern border, particularly the Californian-Mexican portion of it. There is no Rio Grande River Line there and California is a rich prize by any standard. In a starving world, its agricultural benefits—”
“I am aware of California’s food value, General,” Deng said.
Nung blinked, wanting to say, “It’s Marshal, sir,” but not daring to correct someone so powerful and vengeful. It was too soon to say that the Leader would outlast his most dangerous foe.
“Please, stick to the issue of the military need for Blue Swan,” Deng said.
Nung bowed his head, keeping his features placid. It was the Chinese way.
Marshal Kao glanced at him, and the old man’s right eyebrow twitched the tiniest fraction.
Nung recognized why. The others in the Army thought of him as the “Russian Bear,” easily angered and unable to respond in a civilized manner. By civilized they of course meant Chinese.
“Many of the Americans have dubbed the California fortification as the ‘Maginot Line’,” Nung said. “The reference is to the pre-World War II French fortification. Everyone considered the Maginot Line impenetrable, even the Germans who eventually attacked around the defensive line and conquered France through blitzkrieg, which means ‘lightning war’.”
“Your Front is stationed across from this ‘Maginot Line’?” Deng asked.
“Yes, Foreign Minister.”
“Are the American fortifications
“It is a matter of cost,” Nung said, “the price paid in flesh and blood to smash through an obstacle. No, the fortification cannot stop our attack in an absolute sense, but it will make such an assault incredibly costly.”
“Blue Swan will negate these defenses?” Deng asked the Leader.
“Marshal Kao?” the Leader asked.
Nung sat back as the old marshal told the others that the scientists agreed the missiles would indeed negate the majority of the defenses.”
“But not all?” asked Deng.
“The missile will nullify the technological wonders emplaced by the Americans,” Kao said. “The missiles will not harm the machine gun nests or disintegrate the concrete pill boxes or embankments there.”
“How does our wonder weapon achieve this miracle?” Deng asked.
Kao glanced at the Leader.
“Please, tell us, Marshal,” the Leader said.
“The missiles will emit a heavy electro-magnetic pulse,” Kao said.
Deng sat up sharply like an angry panda bear. His weak eye attempted to open, failing in that but making the lashes quiver. “We’re using tactical nuclear weapons?”
“No!” the Leader said. “Greater China shall never use nuclear weapons without heavy provocation. Firstly, it is unethical. Secondly, we want to conquer America for its agricultural usage. How does it profit us to irradiate the wheat fields and poultry farms that we so desperately need?”
