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The next morning, Friday, September 26, 2014
The War Council Chamber in the Defense Commissariat Offices
Haven, Province of Oregon, Commonwealth of Haven
“Well, what’s the latest?” I turned to Katrina again, along with Sarai, Kirsten, Tokutomi, Aengus, Sandeep, Cherry, Nydia, and Ninve ... my war council, along with the high command of my armed forces.
“Master, the Hermiston Line is holding for now, but just barely ... it is bleeding out and perilously thin. Reports indicate that your proclamation and our propaganda are working ... desertions are rising, and the enemy can’t shoot every deserter, not to mention there was at least one mutiny behind enemy lines. The adversary is beaten. He just can’t bring himself to admit defeat.
“For one thing, the enemy chain of command is divided and quarrelsome, local militias often outright defying or ignoring orders from their superiors on the Alliance General Staff and Central Command. They’re as confused and disorganized as the early Continental Army or the Russian Army under the Petrograd Soviet. Our prisoners have been quick to relate this to us, in fact, just before many of them have gone home,” Katrina explained to me to my delight.
“Releasing the prisoners now is a stroke of pure genius. Not only do they confirm the fact that you keep your word, and the strain on our resources is reduced, but they can spread both Schumacher Syndrome and Havenism among the local population. The ground is shifting beneath the EOA’s feet and they have to feel like they’re on quicksand rather suddenly. Talk about winning hearts and minds!
“Defeatism and dissension in the ranks are sure to increase, no doubt of that. The EOA’s days are numbered. The Alliance is living on borrowed time. One more hard blow, and they’ll crack to be sure. The only question is when and where,” Aengus agreed with Katrina.
“Surround Hermiston ... entirely. Leave them no escape at all. Cut them off. No one in that town’s prepared for a siege or wants to endure one. They’ll force the Alliance to surrender to us, make one final, last-ditch stand ... or abandon the city. Whatever they do, they’re doomed.
“If they give up the capital ... it’s an admission of defeat, whether tacit or explicit. If they stay put, they’re separated from their forces and render them rudderless. They’ll dissolve in days without what remains of their unity of command. And the generals will be captured or killed, anyway.
“If they surrender, of course, that’s the ball game, the whole enchilada. Knowing them, they’ll only surrender if left no other choice. Here’s hoping that the people rise up and demand that they capitulate. In any case, surrounding them forces their hand, makes them react to us instead of taking the initiative and being proactive. The Alliance’s fate will be in our hands and those of the masses, not the Alliance itself,” I instructed my war council and high command.
“We can cut them off easier if we unleash the Air Force, sir ... no restrictions at all on the rules of engagement. The collateral damage should be limited by the speed of our success and the relative brevity of this last assault. You know what I mean, of course,” Tokutomi urged me now.
“Thermobaric weapons. Napalm. Air strikes on City Hall, that kind of thing. Do it. Bomb the bastards. Full-scale artillery bombardment as well. Willie Peter, too. Finish them off. As Lincoln told Grant, ‘let the thing be pressed.’ I want this campaign wrapped up neatly, so we can move on to bigger and better things. Let the enemy know they have but two realistic outcomes ... defeat and survival or defeat and death. There is no prospect for victory. They must yield alive or dead, but they will yield. Crush them now, rather than letting this war drag on, that is my stance,” I decided to ruthlessly quash the resistance, whatever the cost.
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