Sep. 29th, 2021

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GWOT VII - Targeting Plan

TS/SCI Secure Compartmentalized Intelligence
Project Touchdown

Given the President's new direction to use large amounts of kinetic ordinance (c.f. "Hammer' project), we have accordingly modified our target selection matrix as follows.

Two strikes to the executive residence from minimum TOT (Time on Target) packages, to reduce the likelihood of additional launches and force enemy transfer of command and control to military command centers.

Target two major airports instead of five in the enemy capital city.

Consistent with the President's intention, target the primary naval facility and also all similar facilities on the enemy coast.

Deploy 'Spider Hammer' to destroy a major infrastructure project on which the enemy economy is dependent.

Deploy 'Radiant Hammer' to frighten population centers near a major national forest.

Target individually each alternate command and control center that has been identified.

Destroy sentimental landmarks and icons near major enemy population centers, without risking mass casualties or counterforce strikes by hitting these cities directly.

Test the deep penetration capability of Hammer by striking the same location, an enemy underground command and control base, over and over again with Hammer ordinance until the ordinance is employed or the underground target is neutralized or hors de combat.

As a contingency, be prepared to execute the self destruct code (deorbit all Hammers by using them to strike empty ocean targets) or the world code (use Hammers to strike an uploaded target matrix consisting of ALL viable enemy targets worldwide.)
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The four of us made it to dinner. One of the two SDF troopers had the Object in tow. The other held on to her token submachine gun.

We were seated at two tables. Both had a commanding view of the 'bowl' formed by the terracing below our point, and of the translucent 'dome' that sealed the gardens off from the outside world.

"Dr. Zhao sends his regrets, he is quite busy. But he wanted you to see the sights."

George. Not playing the People's Police detective today. Or was he? I'd never seen him before in full Western style business suit. Bespoke tailored.

We of course remained in our uniforms. The privilege of the host.

An appetizer was served. Then wine and beer; Rize's pick from the room had not gone unnoticed. Then what the Chinese call family style and the Americans call Chinese style... numerous dishes from which we helped ourselves and passed them around.

Unless George had a death wish, had been reclassified as expendable, or had taken an antidote before joining us, this made it most unlikely that anyone could be poisoned.

Trust is trust. The four Californians ate heartily.

Not trusting enough to leave the McGuffin in our rooms. It's rude to impose such a temptation on one's host.

By mutual agreement we avoided talking shop. This left me nearly silent, and Rize more so. The honor of the Republic was upheld by our SDF troopers, with their tongues rather than their trigger fingers.

Safe topics: the weather, kind of. The flight, a little. The weather again.

At a table full of gun toters, the kid's table if you will, eventually we circled around to firearms. I expressed my preference for wheelguns while carrying a semiauto. Rize expressed no preference which I knew was bullshit; Bear Force is only happy when littering brass all over the ground. George said a firearm was just a tool, but passed around his police issue pistol so we could all look at it. The female SDF trooper reciprocated by passing around her submachine gun. She quite properly didn't mention the satellite command data link, the GPS and the suicide charge in the stock. Not a special fitting; all SDF submachine guns have all three options.

The main course arrived, Dr. Zhao cleared his throat and joined us, an extra place being hastily set for him and the tables pushed together so that we were six.

"My apologies, but of course you all know the call of duty. We shall fly you back tomorrow, directly to your Embassy. Arrangements continue for the reception, and for the security of that reception. Of course the Americans will be sorely tempted to destroy the city out of hand. You have your ballistic submarine; we are repositioning our own defense systems at this instant, and work will continue throughout the night.

"Is there no way that this show cannot be taken 'on the road,' as you might say?"

I shook my head.

"We considered it. Even from a submarine or an aircraft. The former has bad connectivity, the latter has poor connectivity and is too vulnerable." I paused. "We even considered the riverine option, as you have taken with at least two of your ballistic nuclear submarines."

The Chinese became wooden.

"Find a stretch of river. Run an extension cord into the depths. Instant missile silo, and good connectivity, and some protection and the ability to run. You are not the only nation that has made this choice."

They blinked. I thought about drowning with a mesh holding me a mere foot above the water.

"California has lakes, and also reservoirs. Even ponds. And it's amazing what you can do when there is no connection to open water, so what the US Navy might consider a testbed or a barge is your entire vessel."

Chinese naval warfare doctrine had always seen the ocean as an adjunct to the land.

American naval warfare doctrine, until before the Firecracker, had seen ocean dominance as a game changer.

I aspired to something far more horrific. World dominance. Yes, a new broom sweeps clean, but from the high orbitals to the ocean trenches, the US was going to lose everything she had.

California would lose a lot too. We might lose everything. But if we could hang on to a single ballistic boat when she lost all of hers ... that was victory.

China had already taken an alpha strike from America.

California hadn't.

But we were going to.

A lot of people gonna die tomorrow. A lot of them, my citizens, my people, my tribe.

Unthinkable if we weren't playing for all the marbles. The survival of the human race.

Having shown my knowledge of a Chinese state naval secret, Dr. Zhao discarded fencing and became clinical. About his nation's chances - fair - and about our chances - rather poor.

His question. George's question.

Would we do it?

"Gentlemen." I paused to collect my thoughts. As civilized men, they let me.

"I was personally selected by the Governor of California over several other candidates for this task. I have shown my credentials and you have verified them. We have generals; I am not one. We have tacticians, strategists, politicians, actors, diplomats - I am none of these.

"I am what George called me at that first dinner. I am a genocidaire. A proven stone cold killer that can look at a noose, a firing squad, a crowd, a village, a town ... a city, or a nation ... and feel nothing but recoil as I pull the trigger.

"I'm also willing to die for the Republic. I've been saved by a breath and a chance more times than I can count from doing exactly that. If the wind hadn't wafted that flag, if I hadn't stopped before placing that next step, if I'd turned left instead of right, allowed my driver to drive instead of taking the wheel myself ... you would be talking to another person instead of me.

"That person would also be a genocidaire and a stone cold killer willing to die for the Republic. We have bred many of them, I understand, to our embarassment and regret. America the rapist has ugly children.

"Pat told me why. Me over the others. Courage is not the absence of fear. Yet I am fearless.

"This problem - the potential extinction of humanity - this issue that we share. I am not afraid to win. I am not afraid to lose. I am as indifferent to the outcome as it is possible to be."

I took a sip of the wine.

"Great drink. A fine woman," I patted RIze's hand and she thought about slapping me, then relented, "and a beautiful view to enjoy them by. Tomorrow night, if I die, I fear it not and I lose nothing.

"What I fear, what I have always feared, is simply doing less than my best. Millions of people will see the most important performance of my life. Whether I live or die, whether _they_ live or die, doesn't matter to me at all. What matters is that I do the very best that a human being can do.

"Humanity will survive not by chance or by calculations, not by systems or manipulations, but by a person raging against the dying of the light. That was the Governor's choice. That is my choice."

For the first time, I saw that George and Dr. Zhao had strong emotion.

They loved China.

That meant that they feared me. Had to. Not just my box of tricks, not just my willingness to put myself in their hands.

When someone else says that the most important thing in your life is worthless to them, you know in your heart that you don't understand them and they don't understand you. At best. It goes downhill from there.

And I was California's emissary.

Dinner ended on that note.

I had to get a good night's sleep.

There was only one way to be certain.

I took a sleeping pill. I made sure Rize watched me take it.

Just in case the pharmacy - or Pat - had slipped me a Mickey so many weeks ago.

I slept placidly.

Like water flowing towards a steep, steep waterfall.
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GWOT VII - Chowing Down

On our return to the Embassy, heavily escorted, the Station Chief met me at the demarcation line.

He flinched when George came in with us.

"I need to brief you, sir."

"Do so."

A slight turn of the head, answered by my slight shake.

Yes, you will brief me in front of our new ally.

"The Ambassador is dead. She killed herself."

"Very well."

Some of the Californians choked at hearing me say that. Frankly, it saved me the trouble of shooting her.

"Her duties devolve on you."

"Not you, sir?"

"No." I opened a slip of paper. The same one I had shown George and Dr. Zhou.

Skipping the diplomatic and regal verbiage, I was appointed Ambassador Plenipotentiary to a nation I was not in at the moment - with power to sign treaties and wage war, in my own right.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit."

"Verify it. Then start setting up the plan. Redundant comms. This isn't an Embassy any more, this is a battle management center."

###

The Object was plugged into the growing star of laptops in the outer half of what had been the school's assembly room. SDF troopers and ribbon separated the tech package from the seating, the cameras and therefore the auidence.

This was in its own right a distributed aerospace combat node. Mammoth Lakes, an absolutely prime American target they'd pound until they cracked it open, but in a pile of laptops and network cables. Some of the same operators, though.

Two of those laptops - for redundancy - were connected to the Hotline, the direct combatant to combatant link that we had established between the California Air National Guard and the North American Air Defense Command.

If all else failed, I had to have a way to surrender that would keep the Americans from cementing their victory by completely destroying every California city, or using too many weapons in their rage and destroying the planet.

If we succeeded, the Americans had to have a surrender method that would keep US from doing that to THEM. Although they probably didn't realize it.

Our audience - diplomatic personnel all, and body searched - entered. Note had been taken of the ones carrying weapons, but we hadn't chosen to forbid it.

"Go no go for battle management," chanted the project director.

This was far more complicated than space flight. Far more complicated than a hospital, or an economy. This was a surgical operation. Our patient was America, and we were going to cut her into little tiny bits. But she wasn't tied down.

"Air Guard Strategic. Navy Liasion. GEO. LEO. Aerospace. Border. Army Group North. Army Group South. Air Bridge. Bear Force Internal. Bear Force Forward, Atlantic. Bear Force Forward, Interior. Bear Force Pacific. Collections Controller. Electronic Warfare. Civil Defense Controller. Air Defense North. Air Defense South."

At least one diplomat covered her head in her hands, weeping softly.

"We are go, Colonel."

"Thank you. Public Affairs, action."

"Acting," whispered the stage manager as she brought the circuit live.

My face, this room, broadcast to millions of people by satellite, by television radio signals, by cable. The Americans had backed off their initial electronic warfare efforts. Their only ask, would we accept a voice call from the American President?

Yes, we would. But I would speak first.

I played a short, canned video clip. Pat reading out my powers.

"... by the executive power invested in me as Governor of California, with the confirmation of the California Senate, hereby appoint Colonel 18 the Ambassador Plenipotentiary to the United States of America, with the power and authority to deal with the United States and its member states as he sees fit."

I paused, took a breath.

"Evening."

Not good evening.

"My name is Colonel Echo 18. I am presenting the United States of America with a grave decision to make. Instantly. In frank alliance with the entire rest of the world, we demand that America AT ONCE lay down her weapons of mass destruction. Launch no rockets or missiles, surface your submarines, turn over your ships to UN and foreign naval control, disarm your silos and submit your nuclear arms and biological and chemical weapons to monitoring, destruction and verification. Do this now. We are monitoring the location of American submarines, including the murderous Tridents that killed so many millions of Chinese, and I give this ultimatum in all earnest. Trident balllistic submarine commanders. Surface or die. You have two minutes. World Navy, ping those fuckers twice. In one minute, ping them once. If they try to hold at periscope or launch depth, kill them and that instantly."

A Trident could launch in four minutes.

All over the world, the world's biggest naval battle ever was breaking out, and the stakes were for the world.

###

PING. PING.

"All ahead emergency full! Noisemakers, stream them, flood tubes two and four and snap shoot!"

The submarine lurched forward, and only the helmsman already seated did not have to struggle to keep his feet.

"No solution!" warned Weps.

"Blind fire! Reload with red pills!"

Continuous pinging. PING PING PING.

"Sir, multiple heavy torpedoes dead aft, they have acquisition, they were IN OUR BAFFLES! Seven seconds, six, five, four..."

"Log buoy, now!"

And that was one Trident dead, dead, dead.

###

"Mr. President," I said, taking his call.

"Now you listen. The traitor state of California is going down! You have chosen war, you will die! Fire control officer, Hammer them!"

The LEO warfare officer, six laptops over from me, became very very busy.

"Kinetic warfare, fractional bombardment system, heavy metal, we have inbounds."

I nodded.

"Mr. President. In the terms you have chosen, surrender or die. Do it now."

"Call disconnected," the Public Affairs Officer, the PAO, said calmly.

"Very well," I said for the second time that day.

###

A helicopter touched down briskly on the lawn and a team of troopers ran forward. They grabbed their principal and security team, ran for the helicopter, flung them aboard, roared engines to escape the doomed city.

"What are you doing, get back on board!" the Governor said helplessly to the backs of the reaction platoon as they went into the Governor's Mansion. "Why did they get off the helicopter?"

"Can't carry you and them."

"They'll _die_."

"That's their job. Saving the people they're dying for, that's your job. Governor."

###

"Mr. President, we are at war, we need to leave NOW."

"There is no threat. Eighty Hammers, there won't BE a California."

"We have lost at least six -- SIX -- Tridents already! Likely more! At least the deep bunker!"

"No. I want to see the California strikes hit. Do you have video."

There was video. Mostly international news media. Teams in Los Angeles and Sacramento. No volunteers in Monterey for some reason.

Nothing.

"Time to target... OH MY GOD. Mr. President! Carry him! EVAC NOW!"

Protesting, the Secret Service detail lifted the President and carried him right outside the lawn where a Marine helicopter stood by.

The President looked up.

A streak of light from the east, in the upper atmosphere.

He was not totally ignorant of ballistics.

It was a Hammer. And there was no way at all it could be targeting California from here.

Not just one streak. Lines of streaks.

And there was no way to stop one once it had been launched.

###

"That's a kill. Norfolk is trashed. Statue of Liberty. Brooklyn Bridge. Annapolis. West Point. Norfolk again. Radiant Hammer, New England. Spider Hammer, Tennessee. Key West. Jacksonville. Fort Bragg. Charlotte. Moving west. North Dakota. Tinker. Missouri, got the B2 base. Colorado. Denver Airport. Colorado Springs. Again. Another. Four more."

###

"Surface the ship. Open all hatches. Do it now and quickly."

"Sir?"

"We know that some subs will fight. We will be the sub that gathers intel. We're useless anyway."

They had been 'shot out' during the Firecracker War, and kept too busy to reload. They had nuclear missiles and torpedoes, but not the ballistic MIRVs that would destroy nations.

As the hatch opened, the Captain was the second one out of it - in gross violation of protocol.

A P-3 of the Royal Navy circled overhead. Sonobuoys and smoke pots dirtied the waters nearby. On the international distress frequencies, and several others:

"American submarine, American submarine, you will stay surfaced or we will destroy you, acknowledge at once!"

_They knew exactly where we were_.

"Satellite, transmit, USS Nebraska to Atlantic Command..."

"I can't get a carrier, sir!"

###

"Mr. President," I said sadly as battle management confirmed - and flashed to the world - the kinetic destruction of the White House.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Or as in this case, before. You attempted, you programmed and planned, a space kinetic weapons strike on California using your orbital iron bombs. Your Hammer system. We therefore killed you with it."

I continued speaking as if to a dead man, my words for the world.

"Mr. President, America has lost. You exist at California's mercy. Fortunately for all of us, California still has some. If America surrenders at once, immediately, army and air force and aerospace and all the ships and subs at sea, California will pledge to defend America _and_ to rejoin the Union as a subordinate state. Diplomats will negotiate the details. But this offer, unlike your car's extended warranty, will run out in ten minutes. Mr. Vice President I am told you are still alive - get on the Hotline or call the California call center, do it now, you have ten minutes."

I pretended to look at my screen.

"People of America, I didn't like doing that. I don't like killing thousands of US Navy sailors doing their jobs, and tens of thousands of people either at a target or near one. But you heard what your former President intended for us. You're outnumbered, outmatched, outclassed, the world is against you and only California willing to pledge towards your survival. I keep my word. Just ask the people of Iowa. They know."

###

The battles were waged at the speeds dictated by their technology. The orbital war was a hellish mess. It was already interfering with the satellite communications that the ultimatum possible.

I did not want to use the EMP option, to knock America back into the pre-electronics age. What we had done to her with her own Hammers would be nothing compared to that. The death toll would be low at first, but rise and rise and rise as the country shattered from within - and no help from anyone, just more attacks to disarm anything previously overlooked.

Just barely within the ten minutes, a scratchy voice - airborne command post - was patched over to me.

"This is the Vice President. I have a carrier group off the California coast."

I thought about it for about a second.

And then pressed a little button right there.

###

Five thousand sailors never even knew what had happened to them.

An aircraft carrier, the symbol of America's might, literal acres of sovereign soil that could sail anywhere in the world to bring America's opinions to anyone she did not like. In an instant, a flash and mushroom cloud and a shockwave.

The blast rocked the ships nearby. But they were ready for nuclear war. Took damage and casualties, but were not sunk.

"FLASH FLASH FLASH. PRIORITY OPERATIONAL TRAFFIC, ATLANTIC COMMAND. USN CARL VINSON DESTROYED BY NUCLEAR EXPLOSION..."

There was no Atlantic Command to receive the message, it had been Hammered. But there were others who overheard.

###

"What carrier, Mr. Vice President? You have sixty seconds to talk to your Navy and verify."

###

"Goddamn you."

"Mr. Vice President, you are aboard a Nightmare command and control aircraft orbiting three hundred miles east of Nova Scotia. A little too close to London, don't you think? Do you want to talk, or die?"

###

"What do we have that can get at that?"

"Fighter aircraft. No tankers. One way trip."

"Launch. Two pairs. Try to get a tanker up."

They both knew the four pilots would end up in the water. But if they became a factor, it was a small price to pay.

###

"Talk," growled the VIce President.

"Go land in Canada. Order the Trident fleet, what is left of it, to surface and open hatches and surrender. Order the Joint Chiefs of Staff. No offensive actions against anyone. Aircraft will not scramble. Vessels in port will remain in port. And silo doors will not open, nor will I observe launch bloom."

"You've used up the Hammer system."

"Yes, I have. Too dangerous for anyone to have, even California. Very destabilizing, what were you thinking? But we have other assets."

"Like what?"

"The British and the French."

"Yes, things are strained right now, but I cannot imagine..."

"You have five minutes to talk to the British or the French. In the meantime, if American military forces take the actions I have outlined, we will take further offensive actions entirely at our discretion."

###

The National Park Service ranger was aghast.

The monument which had been the pride and joy of the park ... had been hit with an orbital space weapon. He was still stunned. The sheer gall. The arrogance of it. Like saying "Your cities aren't worth destroying, so we destroy your treasure instead."

He hardly noticed the team in full battle gear until they demanded his handgun.

He looked at them and blinked. A terrorist cell, no doubt, and his training had been to resist because they would kill him anyway.

He was too stunned to do anything but to unholster his handgun carefully with his off hand and give it to them.

"Thank you. Remain calm."

They started speaking to the crowd of tourists. And to the news crew they had arranged, with its satellite link.

"We are here as representatives of the native peoples of the Americas. Our ancestors knew this mountain as the Tunkasila Sakpe Paha, our Six Grandfathers. In her arrogance, America carved them into shapes after her own Presidents.

"As a symbolic gesture of what California could yet choose to do, but has so far refrained, she has as a gift to the native peoples wiped the slate clean. Now these are no longer the Six Grandfathers but also no longer the Four Presidents.

"Mount Rushmore is now just another mountain. With a crater at the top."

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