Chapter 95

“We’ll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song.” - The Who, Won’t Get Fooled Again

1145 hours, local time
Monday, 16 February, 2015
The Chancellery Complex
The City of Haven, The Province of Oregon
The Commonwealth of Haven

“What is the latest intelligence regarding the Battle of West Sacramento?” I asked Katrina, who was only too happy to brief me.

“The local militia forces have now retreated from the Bridge District. They have been overwhelmed by the vastly superior People’s Army of Sacramento, especially the 1st People’s Armored Brigade and its M1 Abrams main battle tanks. That’s not even counting the 1st People’s Artillery Battery. The fighting is largely in the Washington District now, with the local militia forces operating from their strongpoints nearby. The focal point of the battle seems to be the Savoy, leaving a lot of destruction for later reconstruction, I’m afraid. There has been a lot of collateral damage, of course.

“The past two days of fighting has proven that the local militia forces are simply no match for the still small, but larger, better equipped, better trained, and more organized People’s Army of Sacramento. A city like West Sacramento just didn’t have the manpower or ordnance for a symmetrical battle, so its militia have done their best out of necessity to fight an asymmetrical one. They simply lack the combat training and experience to prove equal to the challenge so far. Barring any kind of intervention, expect a complete collapse of the local defenses and a full military conquest of the city by the weekend. They’re quite simply fucked, and not in the fun way,” Katrina spelled out the doom of West Sacramento with her every word, a bitter pill, but at least we dealt with it at some distance, unlike the poor folks in the city in question.

“What is the progress of our own forces in the direction of the war zone?” I demanded to know, well aware that Katrina would take it in the loving spirit that I felt for her.

“We have the Undead Guard moving faster than anyone else. Nydia reports that she is already in Red Bluff. Per your instructions yesterday to General Bryne, the Army of Western Oregon is presently located in Eureka, where they are combining with Admiral Tokutomi’s 2nd and 3rd Marine Battalions. It will probably be Wednesday or Thursday before they can reach West Sacramento. Is that when you plan to formally declare war on the Sacramento People’s Republic?” Katrina inquired, curious about how much warning I wished to give Michael Moore and his council-communist regime in Sacramento.

“Yes. Wednesday at the earliest. I want them to think that we’re too busy with our other concerns and that he’s gotten away with it for now. I want them to think that we’ve been caught napping or whatever. Anything but the brutal reality, which is that I aim to surprise them and destroy them in detail. The Marines will strike the eastern bank of the Sacramento River, catch them off-guard in an amphibious assault, supported by heavy air strikes, which won’t begin until that moment, mostly because I want them entirely stunned by the offensive.

“Otherwise, we’d have done heavy aerial bombardment ahead of time. I want no warning of my intentions. The Army of Western Oregon will directly attack the rear of the enemy perimeter in the Bridge District, cutting them off from their base, separating the vanguard of the foe from their comrades. Again, no bombing by the Air Force until the commencement of operations, but only because the element of surprise is essential. While all of this is happening, the Undead Guard will assault the eastern sectors of Sacramento. They will hang back until the other forces are ready, of course.

“I want everything to go wrong for Michael Moore and the SPR at once. I don’t want him to be able to respond to all of the fires as effectively as he could, because there are so many at once. I want him frustrated, confused, bewildered, distracted, and perhaps stressed out of his mind. He’s no wartime leader and has no concept of the genie that he just let slip from the bottle. The dude’s in over his head. He was a talented filmmaker and somewhat decent actor who should have stuck to entertainment and political semi-documentaries. I call them that because they are long on conjecture and short on hard science or facts.

“In short, I want the chickens to come home to roost for him, and in a way with which he couldn’t possibly cope. I want to land on him with both feet and crush him with such overwhelming military force that he can’t realistically resist us. I want this to be curtains for that fat bastard and his regime. I also want the other cities in California to sit up and take notice. I want them running scared, because fear and panic will cause them to blunder. In this situation, I have the distinct advantage of having transcended mere humanity. I am a resurrected, immortal, supernatural being. I am a demigod. He’s only a man. That’s the difference between us,” I declared as I laid out my latest proposals, waiting for any suggestions or improvements that Katrina could offer me.

“Well, after this war, you can bet that the folks in the Bay will see things in a whole new light,” Katrina smiled as she contemplated the likely political consequences of this brief, but blood conflict.

Nobody had to spell out the obvious. Militarily, the People’s Army of Sacramento would have to punch above its weight class in fighting the Havenite armed forces. We were as much out of its league as it was out of the West Sacramento defense force’s. There was just no realistic tactical, strategic, or logistical comparison. Especially the Undead Guard would be impossible to match, soldier for soldier, but the regular troops were far superior to anyone available to the Reds.