Invasion: Colorado (12 page)

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Authors: Vaughn Heppner

BOOK: Invasion: Colorado
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If I fail, people will want to hang me for treason. They’ll say I sold them out because secretly I love the invaders and want them to win
. Her lips firmed. She did not love the invaders. She loved her country and she loved—she blinked at herself, shaking her head. Then she went back to inspecting the dress by sliding her hands down her hips.

Despite her rapid rise in status, she worked out daily, practicing yoga. How many months ago had she been just another night-analyst for the CIA? Seven years ago, she’d worked for President Clark. Now she worked for President Sims.

Why can’t I call him by his first name? We weren’t that formal three days ago when he held me in his arms, whispering in my ear
.

They had been working together for months, trying to stem the ongoing crisis. So far, nothing had halted the Chinese advance or the South American tanks. Week after week, the enemy surged deeper into the middle of the United States of America.

She no longer worked for the CIA, but had first moved onto the Presidential crisis team and then into the President’s inner circle as an advisor. Today she was here as the personal representative of the President.

I can’t do this. I’ll make a terrible mistake and it will cost us too dearly. What do I know about bargaining with one of the most powerful men in the world?

There came a knock at the door. Anna turned sharply. She felt lightheaded, dizzy. This was it.
No. Please, let me go home
.

“Enter,” she said.

The door swung inward and a large Secret Service agent stood there. It was the mission chief, a black man named Demetrius. He wore a black suit and sunglasses. “The car is waiting, ma’am,” Demetrius said in his deep voice.

Anna nodded. Her mouth had become too dry to speak. She faced the mirror a last time, picked up a necklace and kept fumbling with the tiny lock. She couldn’t—

“If you would permit me, ma’am?” Demetrius said.

She shivered. He stood so tall and powerful behind her. She hadn’t even heard him walk up. His face was stony; the sunglasses hid his eyes.

Feeling helpless, she nodded once more.

His big fingers moved deftly, brushing her hand as he clicked the tiny lock into place. “I do this for my wife all the time,” he said.

“Thank you,” Anna managed to whisper.

For a moment then, she was back in time. She remembered her former bodyguard, Tanaka. They had married and street thugs had killed him, ending everything. Tanaka would have scolded her for acting this mousey. She was the President of the United States’ personal representative. She needed to act boldly. She needed to realize that today she was the voice of America.

I have to swallow my fear. I have to think and measure the opposition. I must seek calm, calm, calm…

She’d entered the inner circle, advising the President and in the past few weeks consoling him. The crushing burden was becoming too much for one man to shoulder. President Sims was hard-pressed and people kept expecting miracles from him. He’d won the Alaskan War seven years ago, defeating the Chinese. He had a record of victory against them.

Yes, President Sims—

David. I can call him David in my thoughts, can’t I?

David Sims had helped America prepare for the present war. The Militia formations had been his idea. Shooting down the Chinese satellites last year and stopping the food tribute—he’d helped Americans feel proud again. Now to watch the endless retreats, the grim defeats, each larger than the last—it was grinding David down.

I’m here because this is better than crawling to the Chinese for conditions. And I’m here because Chancellor Kleist indicated he had a proposal for us
.

Years ago, Anna had written
the
tome on the Chinese:
Socialist-National China
. It had been a bestseller, and it had won her a professorship at Harvard and then a spot on President Clark’s staff. After Clark lost his reelection bid, she’d been unemployed and looking for work. Finally, she’d joined the CIA because Sims helped those who had worked to defeat the Chinese in Alaska. As a CIA analyst, she’d uncovered the enemy’s Blue Swan EMP tac-missiles, and she’d helped figure out how to blunt them against the SoCal Fortifications. During these dark days, she’d learned all she could about Chancellor Kleist of the German Dominion, but her knowledge was spotty compared to her understanding of the Chinese leadership.

In the here and now, Agent Demetrius led the way down the hotel hall. Soon, they stepped outside. It was snowing and wet, clinging flakes fell. A running sedan waited at the bottom of the marble steps. White fumes puffed out of the car’s exhaust.

Anna worked her way down the slick steps. Her right foot began to slide; she held her body rigid and barely caught her balance in time. It wouldn’t do for her to fall down the stairs like an idiot. Finally, she made it and headed for the open car door. She slid into the back seat and Demetrius shut the door and climbed into the front, riding shotgun. The car started forward, the only vehicle on the street.

What a lonely country this has become
.

The capital city of Reykjavik and Iceland as a whole used to have many more people. Glaciation had changed that. The Gulf Stream no longer warmed these northern waters. The current no longer warmed Europe or Russia. Because of the change, crops had dwindled to a pale shadow of their glory days.

The German Dominion refused to accept the lessening of their position. They had incorporated several North African nations into their empire. Experts attempted to change the former deserts into gardens using scientific methods. The ancient Carthaginians had done that to northern Tunisia. Now the Germans tried their hand at the game. They even towed icebergs into the Mediterranean Sea and put them on Libyan, Algerian and Tunisian shores. The melt helped water the new wheat fields.

From the back seat, Anna noticed they climbed a hill. She glanced left and saw colorful rooftops. There were many of those in Reykjavik. In the distance, she saw the spire of Hallgrimskirkja, the church of Hallgrimur. According to her brief, the spire was the sixth tallest structure on the island.

Once, Greater Reykjavik had boasted 200,000 people. Anna had read in her brief there were a mere 75,000 now. The ratio was similar for the entire island. Still, Iceland was strategically placed. A GD air wing flew out of the island and tough GD paratroopers and hover-tankers guarded the lonely land.

From the back seat, Anna pulled out her e-reader, trying to study her notes. It proved impossible. She was more nervous than ever. In the next few minutes, she would meet Chancellor Kleist and she would have to play her role as Presidential representative.

Kleist was a cunning bastard. Oh yes, he was acclaimed as the new Otto von Bismarck. That sounded so much nicer. There had been little nice about Otto von Bismarck, however, a man of the late 1800s. His compatriots had named Bismarck the “blood and iron” Chancellor who’d created the Second Reich—the German Empire—through soldiers’ blood and his iron will. That empire had perished at the end of World War I.

Anna permitted herself a wintry grimace. The First Reich had been a medieval political entity. The Third Reich had been that monster Hitler’s creation. Today the Germans seemed wiser than before. No one called it the Fourth Reich, but the German Dominion instead. It encompassed the old European Union with added African countries.

Anna wasn’t here simply because the GD was a first-rate world power. Through his subtle and force-backed diplomacy, Chancellor Kleist had massed GD hovers into Cuba, along with elite paratroopers and airmobile brigades. GD Fleets roamed the Atlantic Ocean and its air and space patrols came perilously near America’s Eastern seaboard. The problem went much deeper, of course. Kleist had made a secret pact with the Pan-Asian Alliance, with China. The ray of hope for America came because it seemed as if Kleist had broken certain accords of the pact. His lack of help in attacking America this summer meant something, and if she did her job well, she might find out what.

One of the State Department men briefing Anna two days ago had told her Kleist reminded him more of Gaiseric than Otto von Bismarck. It had been a chance comment but she’d looked it up. One of her strengths was thoroughness and preparation. If she didn’t know something, she hunted it down.

Gaiseric had ended up being the king of the Vandal barbarians. In the waning days of the Western Roman Empire, groups of German tribes had marched hither and yon, conquering choice pieces of the empire and claiming the land as armed and dangerous squatters. Gaiseric took his Vandals from Spain and into Northern Africa. He besieged and took Carthage and soon turned his Germans into fierce pirates, creating a first-rate navy.

Gaiseric had proved the most cunning of the barbarian warlords. His words had helped convince Attila the Hun to attack the Western Roman Empire. Perhaps Kleist’s words had helped convince Chairman Hong to invade America. After Attila’s time and during Roman troubles, Gaiseric had taken his Vandals and sacked the Eternal City of Rome. The barbarians did such a thorough job of it that the tribal name—Vandal—stuck. It became a word that meant wanton destroyer. The key to understanding Gaiseric was his cunning and avarice.

Now I’m supposed to match wits with the modern Gaiseric. I think David miscalculated
. Anna gripped the e-reader.
You will remain calm. You will listen carefully and say as little as possible. Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps his mouth shut
.

“We’re almost there ma’am,” Demetrius told her. He rode with a walkie-talkie near his mouth and he scanned back and forth.

Anna looked up from her reader. The snow had stopped falling. Rain poured instead. The sedan’s wipers busily cleared the front windshield.

Ah, they approached Hotel Arnarson. It was a blocky, six-story building, with combat helicopters parked on the rooftop. Anna’s eyes widened. She spied armored soldiers on the sidewalks, cradling machine guns. They wore black helmets, some speaking into tiny microphones before their mouths.

Did Kleist fear assassins? That would be an interesting thing to know.

Anna recalled what David had told her. Like the country, the American President was desperate. Above all else, he needed to know the Chancellor’s intentions. Did the German Dominion plan to invade the U.S. or was there a way to buy them off?

How am I supposed to figure out Kleist’s intentions?
Anna shook her head. David seemed to think she was good at getting under a foreign leader’s skin. Yes, she knew the Chinese, but the Germans…

What do I know about Germans, these New Germans?
World War II had shown they made great soldiers, but they usually made foolish political blunders.

Is Kleist of that mold?

The sedan slowed as it approached Hotel Arnarson. Anna shuddered.

Calm, keep calm and keep your wits. Your country and your President is depending on you to produce a miracle
.

***

Chancellor Kleist proved to be short and fat. At first blush, he looked like an old-style German burgher, with doughy cheeks. The eyes belied the image. There was something plastic about the dark orbs, something of an emotionless and predatory shark. He had sparse dark hair but wasn’t bald.

He wore a green suit and expensive Italian shoes. His chin was strong, his hands thick but small and he wore a single ring on his wedding finger. The silver band had a large diamond and that seemed strange and out of place.

They had been speaking together, the Chancellor and Anna. He had a rich voice, easy to hear. His eyes made her uncomfortable. They had undressed her several times already. It was an oily thing, making her feel like meat, a meal for this small, ruthless Gaiseric of a man.

She’d met his Naval and Army Ministers. They had been tall and imposing. Kleist had treated them like errand boys. What daunted Anna is how they reacted to him: with stark, ill-concealed fear. She had greeted several Home Ministers and noticed the same reaction. If Kleist told a joke, all his officials laughed loudly. Lastly, Anna met a tall Frenchman with silver hair. He spoke cordially, mentioning Lafayette, how maybe this time maybe America could aid France.

Anna found that a strange comment.

Shortly after that, Kleist said, “Shall we retire into the other room, Ms. Chen?” He had accented English, making his “W’s” sound like “V’s.”

Anna nodded.

One of the hard-faced men standing near the back wall strode toward them. The man reminded Anna of Agent Demetrius. With the
click
of ornate door handles, the bodyguard opened a set of baroque double doors. A fireplace roared comfortably within. Near it sat two huge stuffed chairs, facing the fire. On one of the walls rested a massive set of old books. Another wall featured ancient Viking swords and axes and large round shields.

“After you, please,” Kleist said.

Anna moved to one of the chairs by the fireplace and sat down. The heat felt good on her knees.

Kleist sat in the other chair and made a subtle gesture to the bodyguard. The man closed the doors, sealing the two of them alone in the room.

“At last,” Kleist said, turning his shark eyes to Anna, letting them rove over her body.

Somehow, Anna managed a smile and kept herself from shivering. It was crazy to think a head of state would attempt rape. Yet she thought it nevertheless.

Calm, Anna, keep calm. This is the most important moment of my life. I must serve my country to the very best of my ability
.

Kleist smiled at her. It was a gloating thing, but only lasted a moment. He let the smile fade, and the small Gaiseric folded his thick hands on his stomach.

“Fraulein, why do you think your President chose you to speak to me as his representative?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question, Chancellor.”

“He should have sent the Defense Minister or possibly the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Instead, he sends you. I would like to know why.”

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