Author: admin

3rd Brigade Combat Team, 1st Armored Division (“Bulldogs”)

Truth or Consequences, NM

“Bulldogs don’t retreat.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

Colonel Arnold F. Lathrup, West Point graduate, combat veteran, leader of men, was angry.  After getting the shit bombed out of his unit on a random Sunday, he had been too busy to be afraid.  Then he had been too concerned for his soldiers.  Then he had been ordered to retreat.  Now they had established a defensive position along the Caballo Mountain range.  I-25 passed through here on its way north to Albuquerque; other than that, pretty much nothing interesting had happened in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico since they changed their name to win a radio contest in 1950.  In all the time since the original attack, he hadn’t had time to really think.  Now he did.  And it made him angry.  Deeply angry.  Spitting mad.  He turned back to Command Sergent Major Pylo.  “I’ve fucking had it with falling back, Pylo.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell is going on with the zoomies?  Do we have any ISR yet?”

“No, sir.  SatCom is still down.  We have limited contact with Crystal Mountain; we have reports of armored PLA units coming across the border at El Paso.”

“Which is where we should be, goddamit!”

“Yes, sir.”

A communications technician walked into Lathrup’s tent, handed him a message form and walked out.  Everyone knew how pissed off Lathrup was and there was incentive to move quickly around him.  “About damn time!  The 1^st has sent their Aviation brigade down from Ft. Riley.”  1^st Infantry Division, based in Fort Riley, Kansas was part of the larger III Corps which 3^rd Brigade was also a part of.  In theory, all of III Corps was supposed to fight together as a single unit, but the electronic warfare attack and chaos associated with the satellite-based attack had fragmented larger units like III Corps and forced smaller formations to act on their own.  Not something the US Army trained for.

“Apaches, sir?”

“Yes, but more importantly Gray Eagles.  Let’s get those operators into the ops tent right now. I want overhead.”  The MQ-1C Grey Eagle was an upgrade to the well-known Predator drone.  Driven by a diesel-powered propeller engine, it could be fielded from a very austere strip and didn’t require avgas.  It could run on the same diesel fuel that powered all of the Army’s land vehicles.  It was dead simple, ran forever and allowed commanders on the ground like Lathrup to have his own aerial surveillance.  Something he desperately needed.

Two hours later, Lathrup was peering at a video screen, his unit commanders and intel team crowded around him.  “What the fuck is that?”

The intel chief peered at the screen.  “Tank traps, defiladed tanks, earth moving equipment, my guess.  Minefield.”

“That is a textbook defensive position.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why would an invading army waste time setting up defensive positions like that?”

“They wouldn’t.”

“Who the fuck is running this shitshow?!  These bastards aren’t invading here.  They just want to keep me from moving south.  Which they couldn’t do if we hadn’t retreated up here in the first place!”  He turned to the sergeant manning the encrypted radio who had been very silent during his commanding officer’s tirade.  “Get Crystal Palace.  I want to talk to Northern Command Actual.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me, get that wing-wiping son of a bitch on the horn!”

Now everyone was silent.  While Lathrup was famous for his invective, nobody had ever heard any Army officer refer to an Air Force general as a “wing-wiping son of a bitch” before.  Sergent Major Pylo had been with the colonel for two years; as senior enlisted, it was his job to keep the officers on an even keel.  “Sir, perhaps we should…”

Lathrup held up one finger.  “Stand down, Pylo.  This stops here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The communications tech held up a handset.  “Crystal Mountain.”

“NORTHCOM, Bulldog One Actual.”

“Bulldog NORTHCOM Romeo, go for NORTHCOM.”

“Son, I want NORTHCOM actual.”

“Sir, the general is in a meeting.”

“Get him out.”

“With SecDef.”

That took the wind out of Lathrup’s sails.  Of course, the man in charge of the defense of the United States would be meeting with Very Important People.  He took a breath.  Get ahold of yourself, Arnie.  “Understood.  There is an urgent tactical issue here that requires his immediate attention.”

“Wait one.”

It was more like ten minutes.  Lathrop had plenty of time to regret his emotional outburst and question many of his major life decisions that had led him to this point.  Perhaps I should just resign my commission now.  When the handset came to life, he was calm, resigned to his fate.  “NORTHCOM Actual,” he heard General Wilkes say.                                                             

“Sir, Colonel Lathrup here, 3^rd BCT.  As ordered, we have established a defensive position in New Mexico.  We have gotten our air assets down from Riley and we are getting overheads.”

“Excellent, get that video up here anyway you can.”

“Yes, sir.  That’s why I’m calling.  The ChiComs are not moving north.”

“No?”  General Wilkes seemed amazingly unsurprised at this news.

“No, sir, they have established defensive positions to our south, blocking I-25 at La Cruces and US 70 coming down from White Sands.”

“Are there any significant movements of Chinese forces that you can see with your overhead or other scouting?”

“No, sir.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Sir?”

“Colonel Lathrup, I am about to tell you something that is for your ears only.  Do you understand me?”

Lathrup had no idea what was going on.  He had planned to chew this man out, but now it seemed like the general already suspected what he wanted to tell him.  “Yes, sir.”

“I have reason to believe that Russian intelligence has compromised one or more members of senior leadership.  We do not know who, we do not know why.  What we do know is that the Russians and Chinese are cooperating in this operation.  The Russians are providing intelligence assets, and the Chinese are providing the muscle.  I have been ordered to divert I Corps away from defending California and towards blocking the Chinese advance at the Mississippi.”

“But, sir, there is no Chinese advance.”  Lathrup thought about this for just a second.  I Corps, based in Washington State, was one of the most powerful formations in the US Army.  Considering the mess that his command was in, I Corps was probably the only chance to stop a major Chinese advance.  Having them move east was the worst thing they could possibly do.

“Exactly, Lathrup.  Exactly.”

“Son of a bitch.”

United States Northern Command

Cheyenne Mountain Space Force Station, CO

Any person subject to this chapter who— (1) with intent to usurp or override lawful military authority, refuses, in concert with Page 793 TITLE 10—ARMED FORCES § 896 any other person, to obey orders or otherwise do his duty or creates any violence or disturbance is guilty of mutiny; (2) with intent to cause the overthrow or destruction of lawful civil authority, creates, in concert with any other person, revolt, violence, or other disturbance against that authority is guilty of sedition; (3) fails to do his utmost to prevent and suppress a mutiny or sedition being committed in his presence, or fails to take all reasonable means to inform his superior commissioned officer or commanding officer of a mutiny or sedition which he knows or has reason to believe is taking place, is guilty of a failure to suppress or report a mutiny or sedition. (b) A person who is found guilty of attempted mutiny, mutiny, sedition, or failure to suppress or report a mutiny or sedition shall be punished by death or such other punishment as a court martial may direct.

Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ), Article 94

“Status report, Wilkes.”

General Wilkes cleared his throat.  They had finally managed to get video conferencing working between Cheyenne Mountain and the Pentagon by completely taking down the entire communications infrastructure and restoring a known good backup.  It had taken a full two days, but now they could communicate with the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of Defense (SecDef).  At first Wilkes had been thrilled to be back in contact.  Now he wasn’t so sure.  Unlike most other Air Force officers, as the commander of US Northern Command he reported directly to the Secretary of Defense, not to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs or the Air Force Chief of Staff.  The SecDef was a civilian but was formerly a US Army officer.  In theory that meant that he should understand what Wilkes was trying to tell him.

“Sir. We have an extremely large force of PLA regulars conducting operations within CONUS, primarily within Texas and California.  We believe that approximately five hundred thousand PLA regulars were sea lifted into Mexico under cover of the UN peacekeeping operations there.  We have active Army, Air Force and Navy units within the AOR.   The invasion was preceded by space-based bombardment from a previously unknown satellite weapon system of Chinese origin.  This bombardment was extremely precise and was able to significantly degrade capabilities across all four branches of the service with a particularly high toll on the Air Force.  The majority of our combat capability was caught on the ground.  This was immediately followed by a highly effective electronic warfare attack.  This attack successfully degraded SACCS causing an EMPTY QUIVER event.  SACCS remains down, unknown time to remediate.  Additional EW attacks on communications systems degraded video, voice and data comms across CONUS.  Service has returned to limited functionality, repairs continue.  SatCom remains down, unknown time to repair.  This attack was preceded by Russian intelligence operations in Mexico which we believe are related to this attack.”

The SecDef just shook his head.  “The Russians and the Chinese hate each other.  This isn’t related.”

“Sir?”

He slapped his hand on the table.  “It’s obvious, our tariff and trade policy is working and the Chinese panicked.  Their economy is about to collapse so they need to take out the President.”

Wilkes was stunned.  Where was this analysis coming from?  “I’m sorry, sir, but our current intelligence…”

“Is wrong.  This is a decapitation strike.”  He looked down at the written report in his hands.  “Your current defense plan needs to be scrapped.  Move I Corps to a blocking position at the Mississippi.  In addition, are to defend Texas at all costs.  California is a lost cause at this point.  We’ll worry about that after we stop the attack on the President.”

“Sir, where is the President now?”

“Need to know.”

“Yes, sir.  Given that his location is secret and presumably mobile if needed, do we really think that a Chinese decapitation strike is possible?”

“Clearly they think so.”

“Sir, I…”

“You have your orders, Wilkes.  Out.”

With that, the video call ended.

Wilkes just sat there in the secure conference room for a full five minutes.  While service in the military always involved some absurdity and he had gotten orders he didn’t agree with before, the conversation with SecDef was something unprecedented in his experience.  It simply was not possible for any sane person to reach the conclusion that the SecDef had reached.  In any emergency, the President would simply be moved.  There were dozens of places he could be moved to and almost nobody would know.  If the Chinese did somehow manage to magically fight their way through half the United States and reach Washington DC, he simply wouldn’t be there.  Besides, if that was their plan, why didn’t they bomb the White House in the original strike?  They could have timed the strike for a press conference or even something like the State of the Union address.  No, the conclusion that the Chinese were conducting a decapitation strike wasn’t wrong, it was certifiably insane. 

Why would the SecDef believe it?

There was only one answer to that.  He didn’t.

Assuming he was not insane, why would he say something that he didn’t believe in?

It didn’t make any sense.

Then he remembered the Red Team report and the note from SacPac.  Could it be true?  Could the Russians have compromised the SecDef?  Hell, had they compromised the President?  Surely not.  Wilkes had never met SacPac himself.  He knew the man by reputation and that reputation was fearsome.  Was that enough for him to….  His mind shied away from the term.  He forced himself to confront what was there in front of him.  Could he commit mutiny?

Never in his professional military life had he faced such a moral crisis.  None of his training or experience prepared him to face a situation where his command leadership had been compromised.  He didn’t know if that was even true in this case.

He opened the door to the conference room.  His aide was outside, waiting patiently.  “Is there anyone from JAG in the facility?”

“Sir, I believe there is a JAG officer down the hall, part of the standby duty team.”

“Ask him to join me here, please.”

When he came in, the Air Force captain looked concerned.  It wasn’t normal that the commanding officer called a JAG officer into a private meeting.  Usually, they call you when someone in your command is under arrest.  “Sir?”

“Lee is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain Lee, I have a hypothetical for you.  This entire conversation is privileged.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, but as a serving officer any communications with me is not considered privileged unless I am defending you in a court martial.  Do you believe this is the case, sir?”

“No, not yet.”  If anything, the captain became more concerned.  “Very well, this is code word material.  I am ordering you to classify this information as top secret.  That work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hypothetically, if I was issued an order by the SecDef but did not follow that order, I assume that would be mutiny.”

“Technically, that would be UCMJ Article 92.”  He paused for a moment and then recited the section from memory.  “Any person subject to this chapter who violates or fails to obey any lawful general order or regulation.  It’s a common article cited in failure to obey orders cases.  I’ve tried two of them myself.”

“And if the order isn’t legal?”

“Well, then you cannot obey the order under any circumstance.  If you obey an illegal order, you can be prosecuted.”

“So, I need to know if the order is legal or not BEFORE I obey it?”

“Sir, you must reasonably believe that the order is not legal.  UCMJ does not require you to be omniscient, just dutiful.”  He looked down at his hands, clasped on the table in front of him.  “Sir, may I ask?”

“No.  This conversation did not happen.  Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

While he probably hadn’t needed the primer on military law, the conversation helped him to crystalize his thinking.  The trick was that he had to reasonably ascertain that the order was not legal.  So, he had to do his due diligence.  How to do that?  He knew how to confirm intelligence.  You had to know the source.  If the source wasn’t available, you confirmed the intel with sources who knew the original source or had access to the information.  To put it another way, he needed to talk to someone who knew SacPac well.

He picked up a handset.  “I need an encrypted channel to Third Fleet, Actual.  Right now.”

It took a few minutes, but finally the handset rang again.  “Third Fleet, Lensten.”  Wilkes didn’t want to think about how the signal had been routed to a ship offshore, he was just pleased that communications were starting to work again.

“Bill, it’s Barry Wilkes.  I need you to keep this conversation confidential.”

“Yes, of course.  I would say congratulations on taking Northern Command, but I’m sure you hate how you got the job.”

“Same to you, of course.”  Wilkes paused, not sure where to start.  “Bill, how well do you know SACPAC?”

“The Admiral?  I worked on his staff for two years.  Most brilliant officer I have ever worked with.”

Wilkes sighed.  He was afraid of that.  “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because based on something he told me, I’m about to disobey a direct order.”

“What?” 

Briefly, Wilkes filled him in on the conversation with SecDef and the message from The Admiral.  There was silence on the other end of the line.

Finally, Wilkes couldn’t wait any longer.  “Well?  Should I arrest myself?  Call the MPs?”

“No.  If so, call them for me too.”  Another pause.  “I think this explains his last message to me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said, ‘Trust General Ruiz with your life.’”

“General Ruiz?  The commandant of the Marine Corps?”

“Yes.”

“He’s the last of them.”

“What?”

“Ruiz is the last real soldier up there.  Since the Chief of Staff of the Air Force resigned, there hasn’t been a real combat vet in charge of any of the other branches.  Just political hacks, all of them.”

“But not Ruiz.”

“No, he was in Fallujah.  He gets it.”