moment, the deadly-looking craft flew alone. The next instant lasers stabbed upward into the night sky. Drones broke apart. Some dove to escape destruction. Others lifted and still others peeled away in either direction.
GD drones or fighters—the major didn’t know and they were too far away to tell—launched air-to-air missiles. Anna watched their contrails. The GD missiles moved so fast, and they darted like hummingbirds after the jinking V-10s. Each second, another V-10 burst apart in a flash of explosion. Soon thereafter, there was nothing in the sky but smoking parts raining toward Toronto.
“We need cruise missiles,” someone said. “We need hundreds of them hugging the earth. The lasers couldn’t stop a barrage of them. Bam, bam!” the Defense Secretary said, clapping his meaty hands together. “You’d have wasted GD strongpoints instead of useless, destroyed UAVs falling on them.”
“We don’t have hundreds of cruise missiles in one place to use,” General Alan said, perhaps a trifle apologetically.
The Defense Secretary was a large man with a red face and a redder nose. “Then we’d better damn well produce more of them, shan’t we?”
“We do produce them,” General Alan said. “As fast as the plants manufacture the missiles we use them. It’s building up enough missiles in one place that is proving impossible. Our munitions are woefully inadequate. The battles against the Chinese in the Midwest…they burned up everything we had last year.”
“I understand that,” the Defense Secretary said. “I’m talking about saving cruise missiles for a bigger occasion like this. We’re not thinking strategically enough.”
“Maybe you can lend us your expertise,” Alan said. “Tell me: is this one of those occasions? Or is this a time to save cruise missiles?”
“I don’t appreciate your tone,” the Defense Secretary said.
“He’s simply being factual, Tom,” Max said. “You can’t fault him for that. It’s his job.”
The large Defense Secretary eyed the Director of Homeland Security. “His tone… Oh, never mind. Our boys are dying tonight, that’s what matters.”
“Yes,” Max said. “Sadly, that’s true.” He turned to David Sims. “Mr. President, from the images out of Toronto and the major’s reports, this sounds like a full-blown disaster. We’re in danger of losing these men, everything, in the entire pocket. That’s too many losses piled on top of all our other fatalities.”
Biting her lower lip in worry, Anna watched David. She wondered which President had shown up for the meeting: the forceful man of old or the beaten commander in chief. So far, that had yet to be determined.
President Sims was slow in answering the director. Anguish filled his features. “This… it’s troubling,” he said.
“Agreed, Mr. President,” Max said. To Anna, the Director of Homeland Security felt forceful. He seemed confident and in charge. “The GD arsenal is too modern,” Max said, “too abundant against our under-armed soldiers. Because of that my recommendation remains the same, sir.”
“You mean nuclear weapons, don’t you?” the President asked.
“I don’t see any way around the situation, sir,” Max said. “The GD tanks have run an old-fashioned blitzkrieg against us. They trapped too many of our key formations in Toronto. We need them if we’re going to hold onto the rest of the Golden Horseshoe and the Southern Ontario peninsula. If the GD takes Detroit…”
“That can’t happen,” the President said. “The war might be over if they reach Detroit.”
“Yes, our newest Behemoth Manufacturing Plant is there. After Denver—”
“I know, I know,” the President said, impatiently.
“This is an unpleasant fact, sir,” Max said. He cleared his throat, bringing up his right hand, making a fist and holding it before his mouth. He lowered the hand and said, “I hate to bring it up.”
“The GD Expeditionary Force is taking the time to digest this big lump of American soldiers and equipment,” Max said. “There are over one hundred fifty thousand fighting soldiers in the Toronto Pocket, sir. They’re of the best quality, too. That means their loss will cost more than double in terms of other troops. Once those one hundred fifty thousand are gone, sir, the GD advance will resume. By the pictures we’re seeing, I doubt the men can hold the city more than a few days longer.”
“I don’t know that I’d paint such a gloomy picture as that,” General Alan said. “Len Zelazny is running the show over there. You know he has a few tricks left.”
“Yes, Zelazny is a hard-charging Marine general,” Max said. “I appreciate that and I feel secure he’s using my—the Militia battalions there to good effect.”
“Zelazny is a gifted general and a cunning battlefield tactician,” Alan said. “He has a plan, a scheme. I can assure you of that.”
“Whatever it is,” Max said, pointing at the big screen. “It isn’t working.”
General Alan glanced at the images up on the screen. He must have seen what Anna did: an American Bradley blowing up, taking a dozen soldiers with it.
“In fact,” Max said. “It’s looking more and more like a bloodbath. What was Zelazny thinking by launching an attack? Do you have any idea as to his objective?”
“Yes,” Alan said quietly. “I don’t think you’re going to like it, but it is clever. Mr. President, with your permission…”
David nodded.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs gave them a brief rundown of Zelazny’s plan as heard by Paul Kavanagh. The Chairman added the wrinkle that could possibly make the assault worth it later.
“I can see what you’re hoping for,” Max said. “But in truth this is worse than I thought. Zelazny is spending lives like ammunition, all with the off chance of getting a few elite soldiers into the GD rear lines. Mr. President, I can’t help but thinking that after hearing this—”
“We can’t go nuclear,” the President said. “We have an obligation to the world. I know that’s what you’re going to suggest—nukes—but it cannot be done in this place and not at this time.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Max said. “What about the world’s obligation to America? Three huge power blocs have invaded our soil. I say that it’s time to take off the gloves and hit them as hard as we can in the face. Let’s drop these bastards in their tracks.”
The President massaged his forehead. He picked up a water glass, and Anna could see the slightest tremor in his hand. First sipping water, the President pushed his lips against each other, and he faced Max Harold.
“Punching our enemies in the face is one thing,” the President said. “That would be a nuclear strike against their homelands. That’s beyond our delivery capabilities, at present. You’re talking about using a hammer to smash a fly on our nose.”
A few grim chuckles arose from several of those present.
“Sir,” Max said. “This is no laughing matter.”
David scowled.
“I know you realize that, sir,” Max said. “We have some key GD units fixed in place and far enough away from our main troop concentrations. I suggest that if General Zelazny plans to sacrifice his troops, why not use them as bait. Saturate bomb the GD formations around Toronto. Pulverize them, Mr. President. Annihilate these GD invaders and then unleash the main force in New England against Montreal and cut their supply base.”
The President stared across the large circular table at Max. “Is this a serious suggestion?” he finally asked.
“I am not in the habit of giving frivolous suggestions, sir,” Max said.
Anna stared at David, willing him to look at her. Max had gone too far. The President should sack him on the spot. No one should speak to David that way in front of others.
The President broke the eye contact first, and he rubbed his forehead. “I will not be party to using nuclear weapons against American troops, certainly not using the troops as a goat in a tiger hunt. Nor do I plan to win this war with nuclear weapons on land. I will not do it, Director.”
“I’m sorry to hear you say that, sir.”
“I’m open to other suggestions. Chairman,” David asked Alan. “What about the THOR missiles? Could we use those here?”
“Uh, sir…I’m afraid not, Mr. President,” Alan said.
