Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4) (7 page)

BOOK: Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4)
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“Now see here,” Shi stiffened, all pretense of disinterest gone. “You cannot threaten us! And to do so at a time like this is
insanity
. . .”

Conner slid a tablet across the desk hard enough that it flew off and Shi had to catch it, interrupting his tirade.

“That tablet contains the secure frequencies, passcodes, and daily countersigns needed to request taskings from either group,” he told the shocked man. “You have a problem in your countries. Deal with it. We’ll help if you let us, but if you don’t I
will
send them in with orders to turn every population center with an alien presence to
glass
.”

Conner stood up. “And don’t get any ideas about taking out the task groups. For one, you’re right, we can’t afford this nonsense right now and, more importantly, both groups are escorted by six Apache Class nuclear submarines. You won’t get them, but they will launch if they have to.”


President
Conner,” Shi rose to his feet, face etched in stone, “this is not how these affairs are handled.”

“We are facing genocide, Mr. Shi,” Conner said. “The systematic and total obliteration of all life on this world and in this system. The old ways of doing things are obsolete. Adapt or die. Now I have things to oversee and you, sir, have a message to deliver. May I arrange transport?”

Shi was more than slightly incensed, but he didn’t say anything for a moment as he considered the tablet in his hands.

“Yes,” he ground out finally. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, Mr. Ambassador. The least I could do,” Conner said, gesturing to the door. “Will your embassy be fine, or should I arrange a suborbital back to Bejing?”

“The embassy will be acceptable.”

“Excellent. I wasn’t certain we could guarantee your safe passage, though I would have provided all possible escorts if that were necessary,” Conner said, escorting Shi out of the office and down the hall. “I am sorry for how abrupt I’ve been, but it is a trying time.”

Shi nodded slowly. That he was willing to admit to. “Yes. Yes, it is that.”

“The admirals in charge of the Reagan and Clinton task groups have been advised that your superiors may be calling on them. I’ve made it very clear that they are to offer all possible cooperation,” Conner said as they reached the elevator. “So please, tell your superiors not to hesitate. Now is not the time to be proud. We can be proud when we’ve defeated our common enemy.”

Shi swallowed hard, but nodded slowly. “I will inform them.”

“Good.” Conner smiled, seeing him onto the elevator. “It was a pleasure as always, Mr. Ambassador. Have a safe drive back to the embassy.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

The doors closed. Conner turned around and headed for the war room.

“See that nothing happens to him between here and the embassy,” he told the AIC beside him.

“Yes sir.”

“Now, I believe that we have some real work to do.”

Shi was more than slightly bedeviled by the sheer abrupt nature of the meeting he’d just endured. Yes, endured was the right word for it. The President of the Confederacy had
effectively just handed control of two of their largest and most lethal blue-water task groups over to the Block. It was a stunning development, but one that underscored just how serious the NAC was apparently taking the situation.

Though, he supposed, if anything would force this kind of reaction, it would be an alien invasion.

In fact, that was about the
only
scenario he could imagine that would trigger this sort of response from the Confederacy Administration. Anything less than the risk of total annihilation would be handled “in house” as it were.

He looked out at the city as the car drove back to the embassy building, noting how deserted the streets were. He’d seen news out of New York, and knew that they’d been caught more flatfooted there. Streets were backed up with vehicles, forcing the military to physically push their way through using battle tanks, of all ludicrous things.

Tanks had been obsolete for almost a century, yet he was well aware that the Confederacy maintained a massive store of the combat vehicles well beyond anything they could conceivably need. Mostly it was a welfare program for arms manufacturers, building vehicles that even the military didn’t have any idea what to do with, but he supposed it may just have paid off.

It would be a stroke of luck on par with winning those absolutely farcical Powerball jackpots, but I suppose that if you keep anything around long enough, you will eventually find a use for it
.

His own nation wasn’t any better. Shi could admit that to himself. It was a common way to repay political support, after all. Tanks, oil leases, various contracts of all sorts . . . those were the bargaining chips used to secure political support and funding. Legalized bribery by whatever name you called it.

Washington had better warning than New York, he could tell. Or, more accurately, better defenses to buy time for evacuations. The streets were empty, but he could see the men in armor on the rooftops, the Close Air Protection flights passing overhead, and sometimes, as his car moved through the street, he could see the motion of heavy armor down other streets from his position.

It all felt rather familiar to Shi. He had grown up in Beijing and lived in the city during the last year of the War when Confederate air raids were raining explosives down on their heads almost unopposed.

The silent car slid to a halt outside the Block embassy, and he quickly got out and hurried inside. He didn’t believe that he was in any danger at the moment, but the intelligence he was holding had unnerved him. There had been a time when having something even a fraction as sensitive would easily have resulted in a lethal sanction from any one of a number of sources, not all of them Confederate or Block in origin.

Once inside, Shi relaxed marginally and made his way to the secure room, ironically passing through more security and invasive scanning techniques than he had in the White House.

He settled behind the desk that sat in the small secure room, wrapped in a Faraday cage and several layers of absorbent materials to prevent vibration induction systems, and turned on the computer that linked directly to a laser uplink on the roof.

Let us hope that the enemy hasn’t begun to eliminate orbital assets as of yet, intentionally at least
.

Several satellites and key orbital assets had been taken out of play just as incidental damage resulting from the battle in orbit, and most consumer-level electronics were still down
from the massive electromagnetic pulse that had resulted from the destruction of
Liberty,
but much of the Block (and, he presumed, the Confederation) assets were still intact as of his last check.

The laser link was successful and he found himself linked directly with the Home Committee for Security of the State.

“Shi,” he said, modulating his tone carefully. “Ambassador. Washington.”

The system parsed his phrase, checking his voice for tremors that might indicate coercion and, of course, against the database that held all his biometric data. It took just over two minutes, but he suspected that most of that time involved getting hold of someone of sufficient rank to take his contact.

The screen cleared quickly, however, and he found himself looking at his direct supervisor.

It is late in Beijing. Good, the government is taking the situation seriously. They’ve called in all available people, I hope
.

“What is it Ambassador Shi? Things are . . . busy here.”

“I have little time. However, this is important. I just came from a meeting with the Confederate President . . . it was held in the secure bunker,” Shi said, delivering the last line with just a hint of satisfaction as he saw his supervisor’s eyes widen.

“We will require a full debrief . . .”

Shi waved the man off. “Yes, yes, that is the least of things. The Confederacy . . . they are frightened.”

With those words, Shi settled in for a long conversation.

WAR ROOM BENEATH 1600 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE

THE PRESIDENT’S ARRIVAL in the large command and control center went largely unremarked, something that only went to underscore just how focused people were on the situation at the moment. He wasn’t about to complain about the lack of pomp and ceremony, however, and so he just walked around to the place reserved for the Commander in Chief and took his seat.

BOOK: Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4)
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