Past the Brink of Catastrophe

[Jaguar]

British Prime Minister Charles Burlington pored through the International Environmental Relief Fund bill, wading his way through dozens of rambling pages about the effects of oil drilling in the Sea of Japan. He grabbed a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk, as he often did when he was bored or nervous. This time, he was bored. He didn’t need many crossover votes from the Exeter party in the upcoming 1959 election, and Japan couldn’t do anything if England wanted to drill for oil anyway, so it wasn’t even a hard decision to make. But it wouldn’t be very proper for him to reject the bill without even reading the whole thing…

A fist hit the mahogany door sharply three times. Before Charles could even rise from his chair, the knock sounded again. He opened the door to find Sir George Evenfeld, Chief Admiral of Her Majesty’s Navy.

“Sir – In the past week our scout destroyers in the South Deionic Ocean have spotted T-137 Zulu Transport Planes heading across the Ngele Archipelago to the Island of Tugela. Yesterday you ordered R-17 Raven coverage of the area from the HMS Percival. Here is what it found.”

A hasty hand shoved photographs in front of him. The Raven showed the sandy beaches and tropical forests of the island. And in one of the forests, nestled between the twin peaks Nkusabe and Kabegale, was something that looked suspiciously like…

“Intermediate range missile silos,” said Evenfeld. “They should be fully operational in six days,” said Evenfeld as Charles grabbed a lemon drop. “Zululand, with these bases, will not need to use ICBMs to hit many of our major population centers.”

“How far could these intermediate range missiles go?”

“Seven hundred miles. They could hit the South Coast and beyond. London, Warwick, Nottingham, Liverpool, to name a few. Forty million people.”

“How well would our missile defense system fare if these missiles were launched?”

“It could stop between eighty and ninety per cent of the missiles.”

“Do we know how many missiles they have altogether in Tugela?”

“No, but the base, when completed, would hold somewhere around fifty. However, I doubt the Zulu economy is strong enough to build and maintain that many. I would guess more like thirty.”

“So what should we do?”

“Let’s hold a conference at ten or eleven. At the Pentagon, I guess.”

“No, save yourself a train ticket to Warwick. We are going to hold it at the Palace. This isn’t a military crisis – yet.”

[civman2000]

nice teaser!

[Jaguar]

thanks. And sorry for disappearing.

[Jaguar]

“I still believe an airstrike with the B-117s is the only solution,” said RAF commander Allen Monroe. “The Zulus are a war culture, and have been since the very beginnings of civilization. They do not respect words, only power.”

“You just like B-117s ‘cause they have a big number,” pointed out the Queen. (The Queen was 14, and she was of the opinion that all of the cabinet members were dumb.)

“We could take a complaint to the UN,” said Foreign Minister David Lockridge, ignoring the Queen. “We have six days.”

“And the UN will do what, exactly, to help us?” the Air Force commander responded sarcastically.

“What if we put missiles in France? Or threatened to?” proposed Charles.

“No,” said Lockridge. “The Zulus are a war culture. Brinkmanship won’t do any good. They would escalate the situation.”

“Nah, I agree with Charlie here,” said Evenfeld. “The Zulu have a weaker missile defense than we do. The reason they have a larger threat against us than we do against them is that they don’t need intercontinental missiles to hit us. If we had that same advantage, they wouldn’t even think of trying to get a missile past our defense.”

“But anyway, I do agree with David,” said Charles. “A complaint to the UN wouldn’t hurt, and we can see what the Zulu will do.”

“I guess I agree too.”

“All right, its settled.”

[AnarchyRulz]

SSSWWWWWWEEEEEEEEETTTTTT!

[Jaguar]

Your enthusiastic response has inspired me to write more. I'm writing now.

[Jaguar]

David and Charles slouched into their chairs at the Pentagon. The fruitless UN meeting they had just conducted did not help their moods, and neither did the new R-17 photos of Tugela. While the Zulu representative denied the existence of the missiles, the Zulu workers were working extra hours to finish the missiles sooner. The bases were going to be operational in a day. And to top it all, the press was beginning to realize there was something going on.

“I don’t like it” said General Nevin Reeves, leader of the Army. “The Zulus know we will put missiles in France, and yet… they don’t seem to care.”

“They think we aren’t decisive enough to take action. That is why we need to show them we are as tough as they are,” said Allen.

“Remember,” said David, “our goal is not to threaten the Zulu, but to take their threat off our shores.”

“How do you suggest we do that, without going to war?” asked Charles.

“Think of it this way. Three quarters of their missiles in position to hit us are on Tugela. If three quarters of their threat is gone, they won’t attack, because they are so weakened.”

“But what about World Opinion? What if they get China on their side?”

“How are they going to complain about the destruction of missiles that never existed?”

“Very diplomatic” said Evenfeld.

“I have brought our MI6 leader to this meeting, because I feel that his department is most suited for this job. It is absolutely essential that the silo doesn’t know it is under attack until it is too late for it to launch its missiles. Remember, the missiles will most likely be ready to launch tomorrow. That is why I am against an air strike or invasion.”

David then sat back as Adam Warner, the MI6 leader, laid out his plan.

“The MI6 intends on using one of our currently docked submarines to get to the border of the International waters and Zulu waters. Then, with movie-style “frog man” suits we will land on the western end of the island, scale Nkusabe, then, at nightfall, descend. We will use this miniature helicopter drone to spy on the sentry.”

He took out a small object that looked rather like a dragonfly. “It can hear and see. When we see that the sentry has received a ‘checkup’ signal, we will take note of its time. We’ll wait for a second one as well. One reason is that it is possible that the sentry only has to respond with a certain code, and by seeing him respond twice, we could guess the code. Additionally, we’ll know how much time we have before they realize their sentry is dead and sound the alarm. From there, we’ll just figure it out. I will be using our twenty best men, and they will be able to handle this. Any questions?”

There weren’t any. Charles began to speak again. “Now I would just like to see how much support there is for construction of a missile silo outside of Lyons to counter the Zulu threat. We would also make twenty long range nuclear missiles, and thirty intermediate range missiles to be based there. France has agreed already.”

“We’re all with you, Charlie,” said George.

“All right. Lets all pray that Adam’s men make it. Dismissed.”

[The Bloody Baro]

Pretty Good.

[Jaguar]

could you tell me what would make it more interesting?

[civman2000]

show us the un meetings, give us some air battles, etc.

[Jaguar]

Oh, I though the UN Meeting would be boring so I skipped it. But I'll drop a hint - the next few parts will have action. I know its entirely been guys sitting around a table so far...

[cbraund]

Well, UN meetings are usually interesting because you get to see what kind of skullduggery each leader is up to

Anyway, air battles aren't so interesting if you ask me, I prefer small scale battles, like your MI6 invasion of the base. Love stealthy ops lol.

Great story, and heroic deeds by certain people(or groups of people) are another thing I find interesting.

Chris

[Jaguar]

"Mr. Prime Minister! Mr. Prime Minister! Wake up!" shouted one of the maids. "Your car is waiting. You're supposed to go to the Pentagon!"

Drowsily, Charles woke up, dressed, and headed down to the front of Windsor castle. He already had a feeling something urgent was going on, and when the Aston Martin limo roared towards Warwick at 130 kilometers an hour, his suspicions were all but confirmed.

The limo screeched to a halt at the Pentagon. He got out and was guided into the all-too-familiar-by-now meeting room.

"Charlie," said George. "Shaka ordered an all-out invasion of France while we slept." There was a long pause while the news sank in. But Charles got himself together pretty quickly.

“Aren’t they getting aluminum from China?”

“Yes,” responded Monroe, the RAF Commander. “That is why I believe an airstrike with B-117s on the Chein Mining Site is in order.”

“You know, the Queen is right, you do love your B-117s.” said Charlie. “Now anyway, I think we should hold our declaration of war until after Adam’s men have finished with the Tugela site mission.”

“Yes, that seems like the best plan to me,” said Nevin. “We could do the airstrike and land in France once the MI6 is off the island. This is, of course, assuming that they get off the island…”

[Jaguar]

Adam Warner checked his watch – 12:44. The first checkup on the sentry they had seen was done at 12:30. He looked at the screen on the remote of the dragonfly. It had an excellent view of the sentry. So did the MI6’s best shot, who had a silenced pistol in his hand. The seconds ticked by. Then, through the dragonfly’s remote, they heard some static. “Kebaste da?”
“Kebante do.” responded the sentry, sleepily. He put the radio back down, just before he fell to the ground.

“He’s just been saying ‘I am here,’ right?” said Adam to the best Zulu speaker on the team. “So you take his place, and call us immediately if there are any problems. You can replay the dragonfly video into the two-way radio if you can’t imitate his voice. Now let’s go.”

They scrambled towards the door of the Zulu base. Despite the trampling feet, Adam heard quite well the sentry that was hiding in the bushes, watching them. He turned towards the Zulu, who lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth. Before he could speak, a silenced bullet hit the heart of the radio set, knocking it out of his hand. The sentry began to run for the door to alert the others. He changed directions frequently to avoid fire. But curiously, Adam said “Don’t hit him. Just fire on him.” The sentry typed on the keypad as fast as he could, opening the door. Then the lethal shot hit him.

The MI6 agents found themselves in a corridor at the side of Silo 3 – the last one. They quickly found their way through the halls to the missiles by looking for the doors with “authorized personnel only” signs. There was one keypad to break the code on, but it was electric, and not too advanced. It took only a few seconds for the compact codebreaking device the MI6 owned.

The remote bombs they were to use were very powerful, but they also had to plant smaller remote mines inside the missiles, to make sure no missiles could be salvaged from the wreckage. They were worried that they would set off some alarm by tampering with the missiles, but the Zulu were poor and couldn’t afford too many alarm systems. The team was fine.

They went through a small hallway towards Silo 2. They used the lock opener again. They opened the door to find a sleepy looking general on the other side. The shot was a second too late. He screamed.

They ran through to the missile room. The three experts planted the bombs while the rest guarded the entrances. Four men came down soon, and they engaged in a gun battle with the saboteurs. The agents killed them, and, quickly as they could, ran to Silo 3. At Adam’s order, five men stayed in the entrance of silo three, to stop anyone from Silo 2 from getting to Silo 3 and waking everyone up.

Unfortunately, it was no use. A base-wide alarm sounded. The bomb experts worked as fast as they could, while waves of Zulu came at them. Fortunately, many went to Silo 2, because Silo 2 had sounded the alarm. But the ones that found the MI6 in Silo 3 were inflicting heavy casualties. There were only 11 of the MI6 saboteurs left by the time the bomb experts were done.

Adam handed the lead bomb expert the detonator. “Blow it up once we have a good chance of surviving the blast. You know when that is better than I do.”

They headed for the North exit, as they came from the north entrance of Silo 1, and they wanted to pick up their sentry impersonator. As they left the Silo, the inside exploded, leaving only the scalded shell. They rejoined their fake sentry, and headed for the sea, where the small transport sub was waiting.

[Jaguar]

“Adam made it. So now we hit the aluminum site, and then what?” said Charles.

“If we reduce their nuclear capability to zero, they’ll listen to us,” said Evenfield

“How would you do that?” asked Charlie.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought. First of all, we move HMS Leicester and Davenport off the coast of Zululand in the Shiang Ocean. We also use as much transport capacity as we can to land M1s and Mech Infantry on their coast. Then we send all our carrier-based planes and the tanks to attack the ICBM complex near Intombe. We should be able to get the planes there before they know what is happening, and then if they attempt a launch, the planes can bomb the missiles as the top opens up.”

“Its risky though” said Lockhart

“We have to take risks. We aren’t going to get into a dragged out war with the Zulu. The casualties would be enormous.”

“The casualties would be enormous if they hit us, too.”

“But its not at all likely”

“All right, I guess we agree”

[Jaguar]

Michael Daniels (Yes, I am stealing cbraund’s last name for all his characters ) first spotted the Zulu coast in his Harrier jet. It was going to be a hard flight. His fellow pilots and he had been told to go to any measures to stop the missiles. The missile defense could get four or five missiles, but if more than that were launched, it would be possible that one would hit. There were over forty missiles at this complex. This was going to be a hard flight, he thought again.

The jets screamed towards the base, evading anti-aircraft fire. Then they went over the last hill. There they saw the ICBM bunker. They began to circle the base, waiting for their fate.

The bunker began to open up. The first of the ICBMs began to take off. The bombs sailed down from many of the planes. Michael circled back around to get the next batch. It looked like there would be three batches. The next set came, and the bombs sailed. But one that had launched slightly earlier had made it out of the base. Michael’s plane hurtled towards it. It was already gaining altitude. He had to catch up to it. 20,000 feet. He was closing the gap. 30,000. 40,000. 50,000. He wasn’t quite in range, but he had to get it before it went too high for him to follow. He armed all his sidewinders, and fired them off, praying. That was when the AA gun hit him. His plane was losing control. He felt, above him, the ICBM exploding. He saw, below him, the last batch of missiles being hit. Everyone used their last bombs to make sure none of the missiles left the atmosphere.

He was hit again. He was hurtling down, plane on fire. The cabin pressure had gone way down. His windshield was cracked. But he could still see clearly that the ground opened up to reveal a hidden, fourth batch of missiles that was now taking off. Nobody had any bombs left. He could barely control his plane as it went down. But he pushed hard on the throttle, desperately swerving his plane into the hidden silo at Mach2.

The End

[jdd2007]

yay! a happy ending

[jdd2007]

no, really, that was pretty good...

[TheGuitarist]

Good story, very action-packed, but I would like an epilogue, sort of a wrap-up if you will, which would follow up the successful attack on the Zulus.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Yes I would have to agree with The Guitarist the ending is just a little abrupt,otherwise an excellent read.


Chrisius Maximus.