The War After Armageddon

“That’s not exactly right, John. I just don’t think they’re more important than living human beings. But I might’ve made an exception for St. Sofia’s. It must’ve been impressive — you know the history? What happened on the day it fell to the Ottomans?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, we’ll save that for another time. But Sim Montfort and every legislator behind him is going to have a field day with this one. Anything in the summary about the Russian and Armenian forces in eastern Anatolia?”

“I didn’t see anything, sir. Not today.”

“Our alliance talks with the Russians?”

“Sir, there might’ve been something in the MOBIC news releases. Do you want me to check?”

Harris waved the thought away. It all could wait. He lay back on his cot. “Excuse me, John. You see before you a general in decline. What’s next?”

“Sir, the only other major item is on China. The Army of the Han Messiah has taken Chongging. And the Beijing government bombed Hong Kong again.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll be eating General Tso’s chicken on the spot if we finish with the Jihadis in time. Onward Christian Soldiers.”

Harris saw his aide wince.

“Don’t worry, John. I promise I won’t say such things in public. Any domestic news get through?”

“Yes, sir. The Nevada National Guard and the Mormon Militia have been sent into the Providential Communities to quell the rioting.”

“Rioting over?”

“The USG press release says the riots are being staged in support of the Jihadis we’re fighting.”

Harris snorted. “More likely over bad food and worse treatment. John, one day we’re going to be unspeakably ashamed of ourselves for what we’ve done to our own citizens. Again.”

“Sir, some Muslim-Americans were terrorists…”

“Less than a hundred, John, less than a hundred. And we put — what, four million people into camps in the desert? Shame on us. What else?”

Harris caught the hesitation in the air.

“Nothing really significant, sir.”

“Come on, John. You’re my aide, not my censor.”

“That law passed. By a better-than-two-thirds majority. Declaring the United States… Let me check the final wording, sir… ‘a Christian, God-fearing nation and Providential Asylum for the Jewish People’.”

Harris studied the flies on the ceiling, fighting the thought that the Lord of the Flies was triumphant. After a bit, he said, “I’ll miss the First Amendment. And the exiled children of Israel had better look out when we start using the word ‘providential’ on their behalf. In the dictionary, it comes just before ‘provisional’.”

“Sir… May I ask you something? Kind of personal?”

“Majors don’t ask generals personal questions. But I suppose we can make a war time exception. Shoot.”

“You are a Christian believer. Right, sir?”

“Hoping Jesus will have me, and trusting in His mercy. What’s the question behind the question?”

“Why has this amendment bothered you so much? I mean, I’m just trying to understand…”

Closing his eyes, Harris said, “A nation that’s Christian in its heart doesn’t need to write it into law. Now go get some sleep yourself.”

NINE

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

“We’ve got a parasite inside the Jihadis’ fire-control system,” the briefer said. The room with the portable screens bore the smell of weary men, of stale breath, sweat, and burnt circuits. “We were able to penetrate them at the corps level. The bug is programmed to activate at 1 ID’s LD time. When the first blue vehicle crosses the line, all Jihadi indirect fire assets netted for autocontrol will reprogram to impact three thousand meters short, with a thirty-degree left deviation.” He paused to make eye contact with the G-2 and the deputy G-3, who was sitting in for his sleeping boss. “We estimate it will take them fifteen to max thirty minutes to identify the problem and a minimum of two hours to fix it.”

“Morphing parasite?” Val Danczuk, the corps intelligence officer, asked.

“Yes, sir. That’s why we’re pretty sure we’ve got two hours.”

Danczuk turned to the deputy operations officer, wondering if Mike Andretti hadn’t made the right decision by catching some sleep. You could run on empty for only so long. “View from the Three side?”

“Two hours should get 1 ID into the Afula defenses. If they’re going to get there at all. What about the drones?”

The briefer shook his head. “Sir, we still haven’t been able to penetrate their network.”

“So the drones, like the poor, will always be with us?” the deputy G-3 said.

There was a slight pause, a half-moment of held breath, before the briefer responded. Mocking Scripture wasn’t safe, even in the Army’s inner circles.

“Sir, for now the only option on the drones is to continue working the spoofers against them,” the briefer told him.

“Which has not,” the deputy Three said, “been a raging success.”

“Best we can do, sir. We’re trying.”

The deputy shook his head and turned to Danczuk. Question mark on his face.