George took another large sip of his drink. “Someone should kill that fascist criminal in the White House,” he responded angrily. “My brother could end up dying in this stupid war.” He downed the rest of his drink.
The meeting went on for some time as they planned the work stoppage. Their time was productive, but at the end of the meeting, George needed a little help to make it back to graduate housing.
Daniel Talley observed his surroundings one last time before entering the flat he had rented for the month — he was sure that no one had followed him. He dropped his bag on the table near the entry way and completed the usual security check of his place. No bugs or signs of disturbance.
“Paranoid habits die hard,” he chuckled to himself.
He changed out the sim card on his cell phone and made a call.
“Vasily,” said the voice on the other end, cheerfully. Vasily smiled at the sound of his real name. “It’s good to hear from you, comrade. How was your meeting?”
“Things are going well,” he responded. “The Antifa movement will be organizing a work stoppage on Memorial Day. They think it is their idea.”
His Russian intelligence handler laughed. “You do have a talent that way,” he responded. “What about the other objective?”
Vasily answered, “Things are progressing better than I expected. I do believe we may have a candidate to attempt an assassination of the President, given enough time and grooming. George is becoming mentally unstable, and he jumped at the suggestion I placed in the conversation.”
“Excellent, Vasily. Call me after your next meeting.” The phone clicked.
Vasily Smirnov smiled. There was still a lot of work to do, but so far, things were going even better than planned.
Professionals Talk Logistics
Jim Castle was doing his best not to lose his temper as he listened to the briefer tell them about the latest domestic attacks by Russian and Chinese Special Forces teams.
The General Dynamics project manager was present. “Our land systems factory in Lima sustained severe damage. While most of the facility was destroyed, the portion of the plant that maintained the molds for the tanks and other parts was not damaged. The mortars primarily landed on the production side of the factory. Had the rounds landed in the design portion of the factory, this would be an entirely different briefing.”
Placing his hands on his face for a second, Jim asked the million-dollar question. “How long is this going to take to repair? And how has this affected the country’s production of tanks?”
President Gates leaned forward, waiting anxiously for the response.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Secretary, it’ll take us several months to get the factory back up to full production,” the project manager answered. “With a 24-hour repair crew, we might be able to start limited production of tanks again in two weeks, but it’ll be at least four to six weeks before we’re back up to speed again.”
The President jumped in. “Ok, how many tanks were we producing prior to this incident, and how many are we able to produce now?”
“Prior to the attack, we’d gotten this factory up to producing forty-eight tanks a month, Mr. President,” the project manager explained. “We were still in the process of restarting the other production lines when the attack happened. Right now, the factory can probably produce roughly ten tanks a month until we get the other lines repaired.”
“What about the other factories?” the President asked.
The contractors looked nervously at each other. One finally dared to speak. “Sir, the Ford Motor Company stopped production of civilian vehicles roughly three months ago and turned the production lines to military production. They are just now turning out their first batch of forty tanks. In two months, that number should swell to around 160 a month. Prior to this attack, the Lima plant would have been producing 220 tanks a month as well, but obviously that number has now been reduced.”
Doing some math in his head, the President realized that with the rate of losses on the battlefield, compared to their ability to replace the lost tanks, they were coming up short, by a lot. “Jim, how short does this make us on military production?”
Castle turned to a piece of paper he had in front of him. He had been scratching some figures on it while everyone had been talking. “Mr. President, with current fighting, we’ve been losing roughly 62 tanks a month. During the height of the fighting in Europe and Korea, that number swelled to nearly 800 a month — far in excess of what our manufacturers can produce for us. Right now, we’ve been replacing those losses from our strategic reserve forces. However, we have no further reserves of equipment to draw from. The tanks our factories have been producing have been leaving the production line and arriving on the battlefield within seven days. That is how tight we are on equipment, Mr. President.”
Gates hung his head.
Castle cleared his throat. “Sir, it’s the same with ammunition, missiles, and aircraft. A bullet coming off the production line in Pennsylvania on Tuesday is being airlifted to Europe or Korea and fired by a soldier on Saturday or Sunday.”
“Dear God — are we really this close to losing the war?” the President thought in disbelief.
“Surely the Russians and Chinese are hurting in terms of equipment losses as well,” Gates said, summoning a morsel of hope.
Castle nodded. “They are, Mr. President. The difference is, their equipment is a lot easier and faster to produce because it’s less complicated to make. They are hurting, and our strategic bombing campaign is wreaking havoc on them, but it just comes down to time. Our factories have retooled for war, but they need more time to produce the equipment we need.”
Shaking his head in frustration, the President stood. “Everyone out, except senior staff. I need a private conversation,” he said. Three-quarters of the room exited, along with the representatives from a handful of critical defense contractors. Seeing that the room was now cleared and only his senior advisors remained, the President sat back down and stared at them intensely.
“I want a straight-up assessment. Are we on the verge of losing this war, or are we about to turn the corner?”
Some of the military and intelligence leaders exchanged nervous glances before Admiral Meyers, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, spoke up. “It’s close, Mr. President. I wouldn’t say we’re about to lose, but we certainly aren’t on the verge of victory either. The recent attacks by Russian and Chinese Special Forces have significantly hurt our military production capability. They knew our Achilles heel, and they hit it hard. However, we are grinding their economy to a halt with our strategic bombing.”
The admiral paused for a second, searching for the words to say next. “The fallacy of war, Mr. President, is that it can be fought quickly and from afar. That isn’t always the case. Russia and China are not scrappy terror states that can be easily subdued. They are first-world nations with military power that rivals ours. The war we find ourselves in now is winnable, but it will take time, and a level of commitment our nation has never had to give before.”
Gates thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I understand and agree, Admiral. I think the American people grasp that.” He shuffled some papers around, signaling a change in focus. “Now, how are the plans coming along with this new global alliance to stand up to — what are they calling themselves?” he asked.