Gradually a grainy picture formed, a suited male figure sat facing the camera from behind a desk, the walls a dull grey behind him, a lone painting of the Ninth Wave (Ivan Aivazovsky 1850), his eyes widening in expectation as he stared towards the camera crew, one of the technicians nodding that the transmission was live. Clearing his throat, the greying middle aged official’s voice was firm, the Russian accent strong, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen…I must apologise that at present we have no visual, my engineers are working on establishing a full link through our underground cabling network. I am a spokesman for the Interior Ministry situated in the Saratov intelligence bunker…my name is Dimitri and I am now in charge of the central Russian military district.’ He drew a deep breath, ‘It is with regret that I announce a loss of communication with the Kremlin and the adoption of our secondary emergency protocol. We have no live links with Moscow and must therefore assume the worst, that the city has been destroyed.’
The Russian shifted uncomfortably in his chair, ‘There are reports of widespread fires and disruption in the city above us after passing shafts of intense light, forests are burning in the distance and the blasts were believed to be targeting our capital city from the enemy ships in high orbit above. The hospitals are overwhelmed with emergency cases of blindness, third degree burns and from several collisions…numerous military helicopters have crashed in the suburbs and we are placing the city under martial law. He hesitated, smiling nervously as the engineer turned, a picture of the American room flickering on one of the wall screens, another of the four displays surging as an image of the British Prime Minister began to clear, the technicians wearily congratulating each other with silent hand signals.
Stiffening, the senior KGB Officer nodded into the camera, almost gritting his teeth in determination, ‘We are currently engaged in heavy fighting to the south of St Petersburg and numerous fragmented military units are cut off in the city…Russia’s beautiful city of the Czars. Further forces are moving up and we are also positioning defensive forces along the border with the Ukraine where we believe the fighting is near Chernobyl. The Kremlin designated specific instructions for any event resulting in the fall of our senior command structure…the orders updated only recently and distributed across our military and defensive forces. I must inform you that this bunker is now the major command centre for central Russia and we are proceeding with the orders designated to this base.’
The President interjected, his voice rising, ‘You have our deepest sympathy for the losses your country has suffered, but the United States is also under direct attack in several locations and has experienced the worst disaster in our history, millions are estimated to have perished.’ He glanced round the room of senior politicians, their grim faces lined with emotion, his voice almost breaking with exhaustion, ‘What exactly are the next steps in your orders?’
The KGB officer shook his head, staring back in defiance, ‘I am not at liberty to share this information…’
The US leader sighed, slumping back in his chair as he glanced at the new illuminated screen, the British Prime Minister shaking his head in frustration as he spoke, ‘We have all lost a tremendous amount…although Britain has not suffered the immense tragedies that have befallen both your great nations. We face the biggest threat to our existence, so need to work together to coordinate our defences…launch counter attacks and draw the enemy into a stalemate.’ The weary head of cabinet leant forward, his eyes staring into the camera meaningfully, ‘Now, what is your country to do next?’
Dimitri stared with cold eyes into the camera, the picture flickering once more, ‘We are working with the Chinese to generate a greater picture of what is occurring to the far east, it seems multiple landings have occurred and heavy bitter fighting is continuing as defensive forces attempt to stem or halt the enemy’s advances.’ He glanced down uncomfortably at the orders in front of him, ‘As of immediate effect, my country is escalating its stance…with the lack of a political structure, the military are now taking command and will deal with this grave threat as we see fit.’
The United States President squinted at the screen, a worried MI6 officer moving into the shot and whispering to the British Prime Minister, a Homeland Security agent stepping quietly into the conference room, the US leader the first to speak as the officer stared at him warily, ‘Who will be ultimately in command? We need reassurances that this move will not supersede our mutual agreements on nuclear response…’
The British camera shook slightly as it moved back, a blue uniformed commander slipping into view next to the Prime Minister, his face flushed with weary stress as the United Kingdom leader indicated for him to speak, ‘I am Admiral Karladen, official representative of the Trevakian Empire here on earth. I must speak highly against use of a nuclear response…this enemy is technologically superior to your race and are resilient beyond your comprehension.’ The Trevakian leant forward onto his elbows, gritting his teeth, ‘My officers have continually analysed their tactics on earth since arrival and conclude they are deliberately attacking against heavily populated areas to prevent use of your most powerful weapons.’
The commander stared into the camera, his expression grim, ‘We consider they are potentially even planning for you to fire at their high orbit ships…offering you them up as targets to exhaust your ammunition stocks. I must advise that even if your missiles are able to reach these vessels they will be destroyed.’ Karladen swallowed hard, shaking his head, ‘They have the technology and weaponry to intercept your
