The Samaritan
Copyright© 2016 by Lapi
Chapter 7
In Milan, on two planes, Moscow, London and several points East and West. The message had been the same; ‘China, invades. China Invades.’
There were not a whole lot of places they could be referring to. Hopefully it was Taiwan, but...
Again close but not exactly the ‘whole enchilada’ what was in question this time, once again were, Taiwan, Penghu, Jinmen, Matsu and the Pratas Islands. This had been going on a spell, both officially and unofficial jabs at each other
Many people, not meaning the PRC, relaxed a might when the areas were identified, even many on the call. No, boats (coastal), ships (ocean going), planes, missiles or troop trains were seen. In other words, not a creature was stirring; Nikki would still see ‘The Mouse’.
Many were saying this was just another episode of the Chinas posturing. Some others, a few which were on that conference call knew different; Bianca in particular. She had her girls set ‘Plan Zed’ in motion.
The match had been lit, soon the fire would spread. Egypt was first; they decided to hold ‘War Games’ followed by Syria and a surprise to some, Saudi Arabia. The board chosen was one another group felt some attachment too, Gaza and the entire Sinai Region. The ‘bomb’ was still a powerful deterrent however, there would not be enough troops in any one place long enough to use it. Besides, the UN by magic had a bunch of ‘Peacekeepers’ en-route even before the thing got started, amazing. They must have needed more caviar for them meetings in Geneva.
Next act of the play saw North Korea going south and South Korea going north, wherever would they meet, inquisitive minds wanted to know. That event gave the Americans an excellent reason to accept some help they were offered for Afghanistan, they had been overwhelmed with requests to come to assist everyone. Can you say, ‘The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming’ again; three times fast. Who could guess what was in those mountains, right?
Could India and Pakistan be far behind with their own version of ‘missile, missile, who has more missiles’?
Somewhere below 10 Downing Street, the request for a martini made with Zubrowka-zu-bison-grass-vodka, shaken not stirred kicked off a little friendly get-together, don’t you know? The promised ‘rewards’ should be coming next, and they were.
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