The Aryan guards laughed, “Bury this garbage!” They ordered.
Sporrenberg strode into Wright Patterson Air Force base’s freshly rebuilt command room with his usual air of absolute authority. The Commander was about to scold his men for not noticing his arrival but he glanced around the room and all the monitors had live battle action on them.
Sporrenberg saw tanks engaged in combat on screens one and two, screen three showed aerial dogfights dotted across the sky; while a huge monitor in the center of the room had a large map showing the real-time positions of combat.
“What the hell is going on here advisor!” Sporrenberg shouted as he flew into one of his trademark rages.
The tall advisor barely gave his Commander a glance, “This Commander is the counter-offensive against the Americans, who had the audacity to try and attack us in a pincer movement. I gave the order for our units to smash through their attack and crush them.”
“I gave you express instructions that I am informed of any offensive,” Sporrenberg growled as he took a firm step towards his advisor.
“You were asleep Commander.”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME!” Sporrenberg shouted and showered spit in all directions, his right hand fiddled with the pistol holster on his hip.
“Careful.” His advisor said calmly, “You would be even angrier if I had disturbed you. Now see for yourself how well the offensive is going.”
The advisor managed to calm Sporrenberg down as he showed him the real-time images of Tiger I tanks engaging exposed American tanks on the East while on the Western front the American’s were in complete disarray and in full retreat.
Commander Sporrenberg slumped back into a chair, he gave a dismissive wave. “Good work advisor.” He said begrudgingly, “Carry on.” Before adding, “Your technology never ceases to amaze me.”
The tall advisor slightly bowed his head, “Thank you Sir, we have more good news.” He gestured towards a radio set broadcasting the BBC world service.
President Richard Nixon along with some of his closest advisors sat in front of a large TV aboard Airforce One. They were flying down the Atlantic coast towards Costa Rica.
The beady-eyed Nixon slumped back in his chair as he listened to the radio presenter announce the headline world headlines.
“Fighting has broken out in many German cities today, groups of armed men have tried to seize government buildings. The army has beaten back most of the assaults however there are sketchy reports coming in that at least some of the aggressors are military personnel themselves. We will bring you more on the story when we can.”
“…More concerning news comes from South America as least three countries including Argentina, Chile and Colombia have given their military support to Commander Jakob Sporrenberg in the wake of his address declaring war on America.”
Nixon shook his head, “Turn it off.” He demanded.
“How is the offensive going, have we managed to break through their lines?” He asked.
“No Sir, in fact, the assault is going badly. Our troops on the Eastern front are on the defensive but are at least holding their ground.” He shook his head, “We have lost contact with the army on the Western front but from what we can gather a large Aryan force has broken through and is advancing at quite a speed.”
President Nixon wiped the sweat from his deeply furrowed brow. He picked his gauze up from the floor and cleared his throat.
“Get me a line to the Russians, we need their help and we need it now! We also need to get the message out to start evacuating the civilians; ask Canada and Mexico if they are willing to take people in. Try and get as many people from the West coast over to Hawaii as possible.”
President Nixon told his advisors it was time for him to appear on Television. His team set up the broadcast as quickly as they could.
In the emergency room in the White House, the two men in black let out a small smile, “Finally he is going to act. There may be hope yet.”
Call to Arms
President Richard Nixon appeared in front of the camera, he looked longingly into the lens and then sighed deeply.
“Citizens of America today is a dark day. A terrible enemy is striking right at the heart of our country, they are not just trying to destroy our way of life or our country. No, they are on a path of genocide, they have started a race war; a type of war we hoped we would never see again!”
Nixon looked to the floor before his shark-like eyes stared into the camera with renewed vigor.
“Our brave soldiers are taking the fight to this evil right now, even as I speak, they are against almost impossible odds but yet they will continue to fight, not for me, not for their commanders and not for the flag but for each other and more importantly for every American!”
Nixon took a step forward, “We have initiated martial law, and we ask all citizens to pack only essentials and to evacuate. Canada and Mexico have opened their borders to you. You may think this is a sign of us giving up but be assured this is far from it!”
“We need our boys to be able to concentrate on the fight without having to worry about loved ones.” The President paused, “Finally we have asked our allies for assistance. Sporrenberg and his army is not just a threat to us but a threat to the whole world; he invoking ideals that should remain buried in the past!”
Nixon raised his fist to the camera, “Anyone who wants to fight then we support you. Remember the British once thought they could conquer us but we smashed their spirit and kicked their asses so we will do the same against a crazy ex-Nazi! God bless America!”
The broadcast was seen by many in America, those who wanted to leave got out as quickly as they could but others collected weapons and arrived at the nearest military outposts.
“How was that?” Nixon said down the telephone.
A familiar eerie voice responded, “Brilliant, just brilliant. It has had the desired effect; you have got the Soviet’s attention.”
Nixon smiled, “Are they sending their forces?”
The man in black paused, “Not exactly, Leonid Brezhnev would like to speak to you. He is on line one.”
The smile quickly disappeared from the Presidents face, “Ok put him through.”
Signal
Leonid Brezhnev was a hard looking man who always bore a stern facial expression; he had a broad nose and slim eyes topped with thick dark eyebrows. The Soviet leader placed the phone down after a long but ultimately futile conversation with President Nixon.
The Russian shook his head as he uttered the word, “Fool.”
“I take it the talk did not go well?”
Brezhnev shook his head, “It is time Yuri.”
“I understand Leonid.” The Chairman of the President of the Supreme Soviet replied, he did not actually say it but Brezhnev could see his comrades’ deflated body language.
“I don’t take any great pleasure in this but it is the only way to protect our Country from the looming threat in America.” He gave his colleague his best reassuring look.
The Soviet leader asked for a direct line from the State Kremlin Palace to the nuclear missile silo in Kresy, which would later become modern-day Belarus. All the highest members of the Soviet leadership cast were already waiting in the rectangular box-shaped state palace.
The orders were quick to come and the launch codes were sent to the nuclear missile silos, within ten minutes the intercontinental missiles were live, the button was armed.
The coordinates were input for Wright Patterson Airforce base and Brezhnev was ready to launch the attack.
Yuri Andropov stood and placed his fists down on the table, “What if Sporrenberg’s forces retaliate with the captured nuclear missiles?”