“Yeah?” he asked.
“Paul, please. You have to listen to me. You promised Mike and me that you would come home.”
“Don’t worry, sweets.”
“I am worried. You’re down there on the border. If this thing in Texas blows up, it might rage like an out-of-control forest fire. The entire border could erupt with war and you would be in the middle of it.”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
“This is different. The enemy has too many soldiers this time. This isn’t like Alaska. This is like another World War.”
“Honey—”
“Paul, you swore you’d come home to me. I want you to kiss me again. I want you to hold me. I want you to whisper in my ear that you love me.”
“I do love you.”
“Tell me in person. Do whatever you have to do to get to me.”
“It’s a long way to Colorado.”
“I’m not going there until you come home,” Cheri said. “Do you understand?”
“Don’t be stubborn, sweets. I can’t just get up and leave. I have to do my duty, my part to save our country.”
“I’m not moving until you get here. I swear that, Paul.”
He stared into her eyes, seeing her seriousness and tiny golden flecks in the irises. He’d told her before those flecks meant she was a love goddess. She’d always laughed with delight at that. But she wasn’t laughing now. Cheri could be stubborn, maybe not stubborn like him, but stubborn enough.
“I’ll come home to you, sweets. I promise you. First, I have earn my pay.”
“You’ll come home in one piece?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Through the window, Paul saw a lieutenant marching toward the shack. The tech corporal spoke animatedly, waving his arms as he hurried beside the man. “Honey, I have to go. I love you. Kiss Mike for me. Tell him to take care of you until I get there.”
“When is that going to be?”
“Maybe sooner than you think,” he said. If the Chinese were coming through Texas, where would it end? He still hadn’t told her about Colonel Valdez and possible hit men, but he didn’t want to worry her more than he needed. He wanted to laugh then. What did hit men matter when World War III was threatening?
“Love,” he said.
“Love,” she said. And the way she said it slammed his heart. He put his fingertips on the screen. She put up hers.
“I need you, baby,” he said.
“Ditto,” she said.
The door began to open. “Bye, sweets. See you soon.” Paul cut the connection.
“Who are you talking to?” a lanky lieutenant asked.
Paul stood up, grabbing his helmet and assault rifle off the table.
“I asked you a question, Gunnery Sergeant.”
“Yeah you did,” Paul said. “I was talking to my wife.”
The lieutenant and corporal exchanged startled glances. The lieutenant told Paul, “That’s a court martial offense.”
“Better hurry then,” Paul said. “Me and the colonel are taking off soon.”
“Do you think I’m joking?”
“No. I think—” Paul cut himself off. “Sorry, sir. I’m a bit bitter, that’s all. I haven’t seen my wife for over six months due to hard training for what turned out to be a little exercise in Mexico. I’m not sure I’m going to make it home now. So I took the opportunity to call her.”
“I’ll have to report it,” the lieutenant said.
“You do that.”
“You’ll have to wait here for the MPs.”
“Nope,” Paul said. “But you get them if you have to. I’m driving the colonel to his next stop-off.”
“Do you mean Colonel Norman?” the lieutenant asked in something approaching awe.
“That’s him,” Paul said.
“You’re his driver?”
“Bodyguard.”
“What does Norman need a bodyguard for?” the lieutenant asked.
“Mexican hit men,” Paul said.
The lieutenant and corporal traded another glance. The lieutenant lost more of his stiffness. “Are you pulling my chain?”
“That’s right,” Paul said.
The lieutenant nodded. “Okay. That makes more sense. Who were you really talking to?”
“Are we done here?” Paul asked.
“I saw a pretty woman on the screen,” the corporal told the officer.
“There aren’t any pretty women in the Army?” the lieutenant asked.
The corporal looked crestfallen.
Paul nodded to them as he squeezed past. He shoved the helmet onto his head and opened the door. As he stepped outside, the heat hit like a wall.
“Colonel Norman,” the lieutenant said to the corporal, before Paul shut the door.
He strode across pavement. There were acres of it with the occasional concrete building and pillbox. Here and there, a Humvee or Stryker waited between white parking lines. Paul spied Interstate 5. It was still usable here, but nearer the border, bulldozers and other earth-moving equipment had turned the freeway into overturned chunks of concrete. Paul couldn’t see that, however, as a big earthen berm blocked sight of the Mexican border three miles to the south. Beyond the berm were other trenches, fortifications and minefields. Miles to the rear were massed artillery tubes in hardened bunkers, together with laser emplacements, flak guns and giant reflectors.
Paul strode for the colonel’s pickup. Were the Chinese really thinking about attacking? What did it mean the enemy had started something in Texas? Maybe it was just another game of chicken. He hoped so.
Texas—and they send a DC hotshot here. What’s really going on?
(NNI) Since the first barrage three days ago, PAA artillery fire has escalated into hours-long thundering against sections of the Texas fortifications. Crack SAF armor units have begun to mass, while long supply columns of Chinese trucks fill the roads.
President Sims has called for talks in Geneva. Chairman Hong has demanded two pre-conditions: the surrender of Colonel Valdez and the dismantling of the Free Mexico Army.
The Chinese Foreign Minister said, “Once Mexico needs no longer fear these terrorist assaults from the criminal Valdez, then Chinese soldiers can stand down, knowing the border is secure.”
President Sims replied. “We’re not the ones who started this, but we will end it if we have to. America doesn’t respond to threats and we know how to defend ourselves. The war in Alaska proved that. I urge Chairman Hong to think long and hard therefore and then meet with me in Geneva so we can solve this problem reasonably.”
American troops are on high alert in Texas and Militia and Army Reserves are reporting for duty.
“The President is right,” General Kemp was quoted as saying. “If the Chinese cross the border, we’re going to teach them foreign boys how to be good patriots and die for their country.”
“You’re to come with me,” Johnson said.
Anna Chen looked up in surprise at her boss. She sat hunched over her e-reader, studying data in her CIA cubicle. Ever since the Laredo Incident, everyone had been working overtime.
“Sir?” she asked.
“Take your e-reader and come with me,” Johnson said.
She grabbed the reader, stood and winced because her back was so stiff. “Just a minute,” she whispered.
Johnson turned, frowning at her as she stretched and popped her back. “Are you through?” he asked.
She nodded, secretly pleased at annoying him. For the past two and a half weeks, he had avoided her, only greeting her once with a monosyllabic grunt. She took it to mean that her report on Blue Swan had achieved something. Realizing that had emboldened her while writing up other reports. She’d become fascinated with the spy in Mexico City. He was a veritable fund of knowledge concerning Chinese usage of Mexican roads and routes. According to him, the Chinese had practically stopped all civilian traffic in the Baja-Californian north during night. That implied mass movement of either supplies or troops, which in turn implied what…an imminent attack in SoCal timed with the Texas Situation? She had written her reports that way; she was more certain than ever that she was right.