Free Invasion: Alaska by Vaughn Heppner Page A

firing squad, Jian still forced himself to argue. He had little to lose now. “Sir, we cannot feed ourselves. I know this better than anyone.”
    “You have failed to improve the agricultural industry,” Deng sneered. “That’s all you are saying. For that, you should be shot.”
    Jian caught the Chairman’s angry glance at Deng. It was tactless to interrupt the old man. In former days, it would have brought terrible punishment. Clearly, the Chairman was beginning to resent these interruptions.
    “Sir,” Jian said, making his voice contrite. “If you would allow me to answer that baseless charge…?”
    “…speak,” whispered the Chairman.
    Deng’s surprise at the permission emboldened Jian. “You are a clever man, Energy Minister. You slyly maneuvered me into accepting my present post. You promised to aid me and stand by my side if I would only attack the food problem with my customary zeal. I use your own words, not my own. Now I wonder if you secretly feared me and encouraged me to tackle a problem that no one can solve. China needs the Grain Union, or it needs the foodstuffs they so treacherously horde for their own use. You counsel us to go to them hat in hand, hoping to gain their good will. But life does not progress in that manner. The truth of history is that the strong survive and the weak fade away. We must cripple America and force them to trade to our benefit and at our call. That is the only long-term solution worthy of the greatest power on Earth.”
    “War?” asked Deng.
    “You make it sound as if I counsel a nuclear exchange, which is madness. I’m speaking about a limited war with limited goals as the Chairman achieved in Siberia and Taiwan.”
    “War against America?” asked Deng. “Do you think us so superior to them that we can land in California and take their best farmlands through swift armor assaults?”
    “You are adept at building a straw man and easily knocking him down,” Jian said. “No one here suggests what you just said. I spoke about a limited war. Our marshal and admiral are quite familiar with the subject. They have practiced war-games concerning it many times. I suggest a swift invasion of Alaska, the last great oil-bearing region of America. Once we own it, we will possess the Arctic Ocean oil basin and control the great Prudhoe Bay fields. With Alaska in our possession, the Americans will be at our mercy in energy terms. We will then ship them their own oil for massive imports of grain. The food rationing here will end and our Party’s power will rest secure for another generation at least. There will be no more rice riots and no more ugly executions in police basements.”
    The people in the rich cities on the coast had already become accustomed to bread, to foodstuffs made by grain. Those in the interior still primarily ate rice. It would take time to accustom them to bread. But it was inevitable that they learn because the rice harvests were smaller each year.
    “I’ve heard enough,” Deng said. “You spout madness. Invade Alaska? The Americans aren’t Siberians. They own a continent, not a tiny island like Taiwan. You cannot simply rip Alaska out of their grasp and hope the conflict ends there. World Wars have started on lesser pretexts.”
    “No one thinks Americans are Siberians or Taiwanese,” Jian said. “But I don’t think you’ve studied their present force levels with a critical eye.”
    “And you as Agricultural Minister have?” Deng sneered.
    “The Debt Depression badly weakened their navy,” Jian said. “They’ve decommissioned countless vessels and hardly purchased any new hardware. Added to the continuing secessionist trouble, along with the Mexico Situation, means they dare not commit their army units elsewhere in any force.” Jian nodded in the admiral’s direction. “I have spoken with Admiral Qingshan and we’ve talked about his strategists’ plan to cripple the American Fleet before the start of hostilities.”
    “What