United States Northern Command
Cheyenne Mountain Space Force Station, CO
General Wilkes placed the request to speak with the Commandant of the Marine Corps with great trepidation. As commander of Northern Command, he was in theory free to talk to any of the service heads he pleased. However, the subject of this conversation was going to be mutiny, not something you normally seriously considered.
When General Ruiz came on, Wilkes was even more uncertain. Wearing a plain khaki uniform shirt with no tie, the Marine’s rack was impressively large and probably didn’t include every little award he had ever been given. Wilkes’ eyes were drawn to the Marine General’s combat action ribbon, which held a gold star, indicating that he had served in two different theaters of war. “Wilkes, what can I do for you? I don’t have much time.”
“Sir, if I can ask, what is consuming your time at the moment?”
Ruiz barked a laugh. “How about defending the East Coast against half the fucking ChiCom army, son? That enough for you?”
“Sir, there is no Chinese advance more than forty miles into Texas. The furthest north in that sector is Los Cruses, New Mexico.”
“Not yet, you mean.”
“I mean not ever. They have a defensive line there.”
“What?”
“Yes, sir. We have ISR from 1st Armored. They finally have their Grey Eagles deployed.”
“Then why the fuck am I messing around defending the Mississippi?”
“That is my question, sir.”
“I assume you asked SecDef this question.”
“Yes, sir. He told me my intel was wrong and I was to follow orders.”
Ruiz ran his hand over his face. “Those REMF motherfuckers.”
“Sir?”
“Son, this is code word material. Not to be repeated.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Marine intel is telling me that there are senior members of the administration who have been compromised by Russian intel.”
“Consider that confirmed. I have a report on my desk from British intelligence saying the same thing.”
Ruiz took a deep breath. “I need to know why you called me of all people.”
“SacPac told Admiral Lensten that you are the only one he trusts.”
“Damn, I wish he was still here.”
“He told me that we were compromised in an email right before he died.”
“What orders did the SecDef give you? Specifically?”
“He said to move I Corps to defend the Mississippi.”
“Anything else?”
“I think I can safely call his other statements comments rather than orders, sir.”
“That’s good. We need to relieve the Marines holding the line at Pendleton.”
“There are three salients there, along I-5, I-10 and I-15.”
“Yes, we will relieve all three.”
“You plan to reinforce all three?”
“No, son, I plan to take a fucking Marine regiment and shove it right up the ChiCom’s ass.”
“Sir?”
“Marines don’t defend, son, we attack. That’s what we’re going to do.”
U.S. Army Tank-Automotive and Armaments Command (TACOM)
Sierra Army Depot, Herlong CA
“TACOM, Colonel Kumar.”
“Kumar, Crystal Palace. Wait one for NORCOM Actual.”
Kumar stared at the secure handset in his hand. While he spoke to generals regularly, he had never expected the commander of the entire Northern Command to call him directly. Running a glorified Army motor pool wasn’t glamorous and they didn’t get many visitors way out here. What the hell was going on?
It took a few seconds until a new voice came on the line. “Kumar?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Kumar, I am calling you directly because I want to make sure you understand your orders. I want there to be no confusion because this is likely the most important operation of the war.”
While he had given the “This is the most important job in the Army” speech himself many times, he had the feeling that the general wasn’t exaggerating. “Sir, I assume you mean the order to ready one hundred and fifty Abrams in the next forty-eight hours.”
“Yes, correct.”
“Sir, I have no problem getting the tanks ready. We have them sitting here already. They are part of the SEPv3 upgrade program. They just need fluids and to be packed for transit.”
“That second part won’t be necessary.”
“Sir?”
“The Marines will be there to pick them up tomorrow.”
“Marines? These tanks are all Marine tanks already. We took them when the Marines divested their tanks a few years ago. I thought there were no Marine tank divisions left. One-fifty is enough for an entire regiment.”
“That’s correct. There will be an entire Marine regiment arriving at Amedee tomorrow.”
Kumar gave a low whistle. Amedee was the airstrip attached to the Sierra Army Depot. Normally, they used it to ship parts out to Army units around the world. “Yes, sir.”
