torn apart by alien forces. France’s problems had been relatively minor compared to that. “How have you been?”
“I survive, Mr Ambassador,” Francis said, returning the handshake. “I assume that you know Prime Minister Thompson?”
The British Prime Minister had something of the same air as the French President, the sense that no matter what happened, or what orders he gave, the country was going to go through a very bad patch. He was shorter than Philippe remembered, dignified enough to pass for an aristocrat, and yet there was more white in his hair than there had been a year before, when they’d last met.
“Charmed,” Philippe said, as they shook hands. “By the by, it’s Special Representative of the President these days.”
“The same with me,” Francis returned. “The President has had me going around the world and trying to drum up support for the war. It’s not easy, I fear; I wish that Li had survived. The Chinese are in two minds about everything and desperately short of oil. If the aliens offer to help them to recover Taiwan, they might seriously consider joining their side…and I don’t know what the Russians are planning. They’re a riddle wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a mystery.”
”I think that’s a misquote,” Philippe said, more to conceal his own concern than anything else. He’d visited most of the European countries in the past month, trying to keep some semblance of the alliance apart, but the Russians had been completely non-committal. “I’m surprised to see you here, but…damn, it’s good to see you again.”
“We were asked to keep that detail to ourselves,” Thompson said, as he took his own seat. “The Ambassador has a request for us.”
Philippe lifted an eyebrow. “A request?”
“A request,” Francis confirmed. “We are formally requesting your support under the NATO treaty.”
Philippe frowned, inwardly. The NATO treaty had, before the invasion, either been alive or a dead duck, depending on whom you asked. The disputes over Iraq and the War on Terror had hampered French willingness to send forces to join American wars – even though most French politicians had known that they were French wars as well – and, politically, selling any sort of aid to America to the people would be tricky. There were also practical problems as well…
“I understand your request,” he said, finally. He
Francis nodded. Even if a fully-prepared and deployable force was ready, even if the Americans would welcome a French force on their soil, even if the shipping and transport capability existed, even if the French Army wasn't required at home…the aliens would still simply sink the transport fleet from orbit. The French Navy was in tatters these days, with almost every major unit sunk from orbit, and there was no way that the remaining combined European forces could provide cover. The aliens would simply wait until the transports were in the mid-Atlantic, sink every one of them, and in doing so, win a free victory. Thousands of soldiers would die without even a hope of taking an enemy soldier with them.
“That’s not what we need,” he said. “I assume that you’ve been following the events in America?”
“Yes,” Philippe said, flatly.
“We have been having some success with shipping in Special Forces and other units into the Red Zone – alien- occupied territory – and using them to harass the aliens,” Francis said. “That’s hardly a secret, but you must understand that almost all of our capability for doing that – mounting strikes against isolated alien units, destroying infrastructure, contaminating electronic systems and so on – is tied up in that war. We had several thousand troops left in Iraq, but most of them were scattered or slaughtered by the aliens when they invaded.”
“A handful did manage to get out,” Thompson injected. “They got to Europe and were shipped to one of the bases here.”
“We need to set the Middle East ablaze, to tie them down,” Francis said. “We’re asking you to concentrate on doing just that.”
“You want us to send supplies to the Middle East?” Philippe asked. “If we do that, most of the supplies will end up being pointed at us instead.”
“We don’t just need supplies, but actual Special Forces units,” Francis said. “We’re cutting loose what we can, but we need most of our special forces at home. The problem is that if the aliens gain undisputed control over the Middle East, either by converting or killing the entire population, they can expand. We have some reason to believe, in fact, that the aliens actually intend to settle there themselves. If they do…”
“They’ll end up ruling the world,” Philippe said. His mind raced. He’d thought about proposing something similar, but the French Government, which was in a shaky state, would have rejected it. If it was an official American request, from the American government, then it could be discussed openly among the movers and shakers, without any actual need to disparage it. “What happens if they end up retaliating against us?”
Francis smiled. “If you try to stay out of the fight, that will just put you last on their target list,” he said. “If you fight now, you might end up helping to force them to accept less favourable terms.”
His smile deepened. “And I am bringing some gifts,” he added. “We have been designing ground-based laser and beam weapons that can be used to attack the alien ships in orbit. If they are used properly, all at once, we would be able to hurt them badly enough to force them to come to terms.”
“There’s no guarantee of that,” Philippe pointed out. “The destruction of Rome scared the piss out of the civilians. If we hadn’t slapped movement controls on the population, the cities would be nearly deserted…God help us if a rumour starts that Paris or Berlin is going to get bombed.”
He glanced over at Thompson. “What is the British Government’s position on this?”
“We lost seven hundred men when the aliens hit Iraq,” Thompson said. Philippe scowled; the British troops who had been backing up the Iraqis had been regarded as tough professional troops. The aliens had hit their barracks from orbit and almost wiped them out. “We also have nearly a million dead in Britain alone. If we can tie them down in the Middle East…”
“We might be able to delay their invasion of Europe,” Philippe agreed. He paused. “You do know that the Council for Islamic Understanding has declared
Francis snorted rudely. “I'm sure they’re shaking in their shoes,” he sneered. “They’re not PC-thugs who can be terrified by a few threats and maybe a burning car or two.”
“They’re trying to recruit young Muslims from Europe to go and fight in the Middle East,” Philippe said, remembering the meeting in Paris where it had been discussed. Very few people knew that similar groups had been quietly shut down during the Iraqi insurgency. Now, perhaps, it would work in their favour. “We could encourage this, maybe slip in a few of our own people amongst them, and even provide transport…”
“That’s not going to be easy,” Thompson said. “They might have thousands of recruits from North Africa and India heading east, but anything large in the Mediterranean gets sunk.” He paused. “Most of them are going to get killed anyway.”
“If they can tie down the aliens long enough for us to prepare for their invasion of Europe, then it’s worthwhile,” Philippe said. He looked over at Francis. “I’ll have to take the issue up with my government, of course, but I believe that the President will look kindly on it.”
“That’s as much as I expected,” Francis said, gravely. “Thank you for your help.”
Philippe eyed him curiously. “There’s a billion of them, if they are to be believed,” he said. “They have the Red Zone in Texas pretty much impregnable. They hold most of the Middle East and the only holdout is Israel. The Generals think that Israel won’t last more than a week. We might be kicking and scratching against the inevitable…or do you and your people have some kind of endgame in mind?”
“You know I can’t talk about that,” Francis said. “No offence, but we don’t know who might be listening.”
“This complex is completely secure,” Thompson said. “If they knew where it was, they would have bombed it by now, just like they bombed Colorado Springs.”
“At the moment, it looks like we’re going to lose the war,” Philippe snapped. “If that happens, my government would sooner sell out for the best terms they can get than have the country torn apart by an alien invasion and civil war. We’re barely hanging onto the country as it is. The next round of redundancies will probably trigger revolution and war. I don’t want details, I don’t want information that we dare not let the aliens have, but I need to know if there’s any
Francis held his eyes. “Yes,” he said, simply. “There is hope.”
