The War After Armageddon

HEADQUARTERS, III (US) CORPS, MT. CARMEL RIDGES

“We’re rolling,” Monk Morris said over the land line. “We look like the raggle-taggle gypsies, but we’re driving east with everything we’ve got.”

“Good work, Monk. Just don’t stop. Bypass resistance whenever possible. We’ll clean up behind you. I need your Marines to get deep into the J’s before al-Ghazi can pull his units back together and put up another real fight. We need to keep them off balance now.”

“Got it, sir. How much time do you think we’ve got?”

Harris paused, then said, “I honestly don’t know. But we’re running against two clocks. As you know. As far as the J’s go, my hunch is that al-Ghazi — and, for that matter, al-Mahdi — will expect us to respond in kind. With nukes, not a ground offensive. And don’t discount the psychological effect of their own nuke use on the Jihadi forces. The prospect of a nuclear battlefield focuses any man’s attention. Even the guy who was first to yank the lanyard. They’ll all be nervous-in-the-service, expecting retaliatory strikes. I don’t think al-Ghazi will rescind his dispersal order until he’s got solid confirmation that we’re all over them. Nukes are his big worry now. And even after he gives the order to establish defensive positions, they won’t just snap to attention. Given the age and condition of some of their gear, I’d bet those nukes did more damage to their comms than to ours.”

“Guesstimate, though? On how much time we’ve got, sir?”

“I’d say you’ve got all day today. Into the early-morning hours. Before even their best units can transition to a coherent defense. I don’t expect to see much more than local efforts for the next twenty-four hours. If your recon elements push hard, you should be able to drive right through the gaps. Beat them piecemeal.”

Morris laughed. “Now you’re telling me how to suck eggs, sir. When do you expect to have 1st Cav falling in behind me?”

“One brigade’s already moving. Should be a divison-minus on your six by 1500. Everything the road net can support. We’ll lay down a division boundary once we get east of the Golan — my planners are working it right now. Which follow-on mission do you want, Monk? Turn south to block and envelop? Or keep pushing straight for Damascus?”

“Might as well keep pushing. I’ll have the momentum. If you don’t mind 1st Cav doing the cleanup duty. Anybody else behind me, after 1st Cav turns?”

“I’m building a reinforced brigade out of 1st ID to follow on as a corps reserve. If you need them, I’ll chop them to you as soon as you say the word.”

“God bless you. But I gotta ask you, sir. Between the two of us and God.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God, Monk.”

“I don’t, as a rule. But under the present circumstances, I can see where He might come in handy. And I’d say there’s pretty potent evidence that the Big Guy ain’t happy with your old pal Montfort. So I’m taking a more positive attitude toward Christianity this morning.”

“What’s your question?”

Harris listened to the Marine two-star breathing on the other end of the line. Then Morris said, “You really think we’ll get to Damascus? Before that other time line kicks in?”

“Got to try, Monk. The MOBIC chain of command all the way back to Washington has to be struggling right now. They didn’t see this one coming. And the president’s going to need some serious convincing before he green-lights nuking cities. Which is what the vice president’s going to push for, I guarantee you. Gui won’t settle for a simple tit-for-tat after this. The MOBIC’s his private army. And al-Mahdi just broke it, at least temporarily. I’m praying we’ll have enough time — and I do mean ‘praying.’ Not a good enough answer, but there it is.”

“Montfort dead? By any lovely chance?”

Harris paused again. “I’ve got an unconfirmed report that he’s alive. Supposedly he was still in the rear area when they popped the nukes.”

“Achilles sulking in his tent? Not polite to say it, but I wish that sonofabitch had been on the lead tank and fried like a potato chip. And I don’t care if the MOBIC Gestapo is tapping this line and listening. He’ll push for immediate and general nuke-release.”

“Yup,” Harris agreed. “Sim Montfort’s going to turn this around and use it as an excuse to kill every living thing from here to Baghdad. For a start.”

“And our mission is to prove that we can still win without an all-out nuclear response. Before the first red-white-and-blue mushroom cloud.”

“Roger. At least, without nuking cities full of civilians.”

“Folks back home are going to be a heap of angry, sir. Especially after the MOBIC spin doctors get to work. Not sure mom and pop would mind, say, twenty or thirty million dead Muslims along with their super-saver seniors’ breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Would you mind, Monk?”