Americans had enough to keep the Chinese bagged. The gigantic encirclement is what cost the Chinese so dearly, the one million lost soldiers. Due to the loss, the Chinese and Brazilians wisely pulled back to New Mexico and Oklahoma.”
Field Marshal Wessel worked his mouth several times. Maybe in desperation, he finally turned to the Chancellor.
“Interesting,” Kleist said in a suave voice. “Perhaps there is merit to your opinion. I refer to the idea that it was closely fought at the critical phase. The important point lies elsewhere. The Chinese and Brazilians will now need time to gather their strength for a renewed offensive. The Americans surely realize this: that they have little to fear concerning a 2040 Chinese offensive. That means the Americans will be able to safely siphon large numbers of troops from their Midwestern defensive line and place them against us.”
“Perhaps,” Mansfeld said, “although I doubt it.”
“General,” Kleist said, “you are not here to sit in judgment of my words. I am here to sit in judgment of yours.”
“Yes, Excellency,” Mansfeld said. “Then perhaps it is time for me to give you a clearer reading of the situation.”
The chamber seemed to drop to freezing as the military men sat motionlessly, as the security detail along the walls held their breaths and as the color brightened on Kleist’s cheeks.
Mansfeld saw his death in the Chancellor’s eyes. Yet he also saw the curiosity there. He could have spoken with meekness a moment ago. Mansfeld did not do so in order to teach Kleist a lesson the Chancellor would remember. He needed Kleist to understand that only one man could give him what he desired in North America— and that man one was General Walther Mansfeld. There was going to come a time this summer when Mansfeld would need Kleist to keep his nerve. That’s why he spoke as he did to the Chancellor. For others, this might have been a mad gamble. For the supreme strategist and tactician on Earth, this was a precise move calculated to perfection.
Wessel turned his head as if the neck had rusted into place. “Excellency,” Wessel said in a choking voice. “Let me—”
“Silence,” Kleist said.
Wessel blinked several times until the man dipped his chin.
“You have courage,” Kleist told Mansfeld. “And some acclaim you as the most gifted strategist since Erich von Manstein. Very well, tell me how you see the situation.”
Mansfeld noted the tell
“Excellency,” Mansfeld said, “the Chinese-Brazilian invasion hurt the Americans deeply, both in terms of slain, captured, destroyed materiel and in lost territory. While it is true the Americans have made up for lost numbers, they have a long way to go to replace the destroyed trucks, tanks, planes, trains, missiles, helicopters and other equipment. And if they have more numbers, they have lost many trained troops. A large percentage of their new soldiery are Militiamen. They lack Army or Marine training.”
Mansfeld put his hands on the table. This was the moment. “If you will permit me to explain in greater detail, Excellency?”
There was a half-second hesitation before Kleist gave him a nod.
Mansfeld pulled out a memory stick and inserted it into the nearest computer slot. Then he pulled out a keyboard and began to type. A holographic map appeared in the center of the conference table.
“First,” Mansfeld said, “we need to examine the strategic overview. Despite the greatest battlefield victory in their history this winter—greatest in terms of enemy killed and captured—the U.S. is still in a critical situation. Our combined coalitions threaten them with a two-front war and with an even larger number of enemy soldiers than the previous year.”
“You’re badly mistaken if you think Chairman Hong will coordinate with us now,” Kleist said. “We have burned our bridges with him.”
Mansfeld shook his head. “We don’t need Hong’s cooperation, Excellency. China is too deeply engaged in North America to pull out. They need our help. That forces the Chinese into making predictable moves.”
“So you think,” Kleist said.
“No, Excellency, so I
Kleist drummed his fingers on the table. “You are bold because you have nothing to lose.”
“Of course,” Mansfeld said, “but I am still speaking the truth. The fact of the Chinese army in Oklahoma is what counts for us this summer. Their presence is all we need.”
“Proceed,” Kleist said slowly.
Mansfeld manipulated the holo-image as he began to speak about the strategic situation.
He understood that this was the deadliest competition on the planet. Because of worsening worldwide glaciation, the PAA, the SAF and the GD wanted to carve up North American farmland in order to help feed their peoples. If the Chinese were too strong—as they had been originally—they would grab the lion’s share of North America. That was why Kleist had offered the Americans neutrality last year. The Chinese had been poised to grab just about everything, and Kleist couldn’t allow that. The GD needed to get its armies on the continent so
“This is the critical point,” Mansfeld said, finishing his strategic overview. “The Chinese lack of offensive punch this year gives us a limited window of opportunity.”
Kleist laughed as a wolf might if watching a sick deer struggle through a snow bank. There was something shiny about his eyes, something almost lustful. “I’d expected to hear something stunning, General. Instead, you point to what infuriates me the most. Compared to last year, the Chinese are ailing. But they rearm quickly. By 2041, they will be ready again. The trouble is that because of Chinese weakness this year, the Americans can peel off enough forces to hem us in Quebec. They already have peeled off enough troops. We won’t be ready now until 2041. That invalidates our neutrality ploy, giving us nothing extra. You told me four months ago—”
“Excellency,” Mansfeld said. “If you would let me continue to show—”
“Bah,” Kleist said. “I’ve heard enough.”
Mansfeld knew a moment of doubt. Could he have miscalculated Kleist’s intelligence? He would have to speak fast.
“Excellency,” Mansfeld said, “Chinese weakness this summer will keep them from exploiting our coming victories
“Victories…?” Wessel muttered. “You’re mad to think we can achieve victories this year.”
“Not so,” Mansfeld said. “It isn’t madness but my ability to see what others cannot. That frightens the pedestrians among you.” He pointed to himself. “To those like me who see the possibilities, this is an exciting time.” As he spoke the last words, he stared at Kleist, challenging him with his eyes.
Wheels seemed to turn in the Chancellor’s mind. A crafty look stamped his features. “Tell me more about this limited window of opportunity?”
“Yes Excellency,” Mansfeld said. “Numbers and a strong defensive position have allowed the Chinese and Brazilians to entrench in safety. Meanwhile, new weapon systems make the long journey from mainland Asian factories, across the Pacific, through Northern Mexico and to the waiting soldiers. Given Asian production and shipping, this will bring their armies to offensive capabilities within a year.”
“I understand that,” Kleist said. “This—”
“Forgive me for interrupting you, Excellency,” Mansfeld said. “I will be brief and to the point. Before we speak about Quebec and our expeditionary force, we should first examine the American-Canadian situation.”
With the diamond of his wedding ring, Kleist stroked his chin. “Yes, continue.”
Mansfeld tapped the keyboard, changing the holographic chart. “Here is a quick rundown of American- Canadian military resources at present…” He proceeded to tell them.
“It’s worse than I realized,” Kleist said, after Mansfeld had finished talking. “We have—
“On the surface it might appear so,” Mansfeld said. “The reality is quite different.”
“Excellency,” Field Marshal Wessel said. “We have a little over one million soldiers in Quebec.”
Mansfeld spoke for a time about HKs, drones, robotic equipment and GD quality.
“Excellency,” Mansfeld said, summing up. “Counting our forces as they are, not the mere number of flesh
