Manic Monday*

 So...There I was** minding my own business doing computer things on my 10 year old computer with WIN10 on it.  I'm pretty happy with it, it gets me through the day fairly well.  Then I get a message popping up on the screen saying I have to upgrade to WIN11 and my files will be uploaded to the cloud.  That was the instant I was no longer a  Windows fan.  I'd been one since Windows first came out.  Talked it over with Little J whether I should go Linux or Mac.  Surprisingly, since he does a lot of his work on Linux, he recommended Mac for me.  

So, This here posting is being written on my MacBook Pro. 

I've had it about a week and am starting to teach my fingers the tricks of the trade for Mac and to forget the Window's ones.  For some reason they no longer work.

Yes, Beans, I still have my Win10 computer.  I'm migrating things over as best I can, but I had an awful lot on it and the portable hard drive plugged in to it.  Which is nearly full.  

Not quite ready to turn off my Windows machine,  as I still haven't got my fingers trained to the Mac way of doing things, but I'm getting there.

So, please forgive any horrifying mistakes there might be in this posting.

Mrs J and I had a pleasant surprise Saturday,  Little J and his gang called us. Now, I'm still a bit trapped in my own history and the "way things were".  I remember my first operational assignment to the 80TFS, "The Juvats" in December of '79 at Kunsan AB, ROK.  It was the first time that I'd not celebrated Christmas at my folks house. The weather was crappy, I hadn't flown much, not qualified in the D model F-4 and IP availability also impacted getting airborne.  So, I was feeling a bit down.  Somebody mentioned that one could phone home, but there was a charge to do so.  

I figured "What the heck? I'll surprise Mom and pull myself out of this funk!"  So I did.  Talked to them for about 10 minutes.  Perked me up quite nicely.  Then I got the bill.  $100 smackers.  I don't remember exactly, but that was a significant percentage of my monthly salary.  Suffice it to say, letter writing became the "normal" way of communication from then on.

That memory from 40+ years ago, came back as Mrs J and I sat on the sofa and chatted with Little J and family.  Not just vocal, but video also.  For about an hour or so.

The first 10 minutes or so were interesting.  Apparently, Miss B didn't recognize us on the screen, so was a bit shy and reserved.  Then, all of a sudden, the lightbulb went on and we were known entities.  I was once again referred to as "Papa Julio".

(Don't ask me how that epithet came about, but the Grandkids all call me that. So it is written, so it shall be!)

But it was very nice to chat with them.  They're settling in nicely, although still waiting for their Hong Kong Nanny to arrive.

The big event coming up this week is that MBD and The Rev are going on a marriage retreat (Swahili for a bit of He/She time alone) later this week.  MG and Leo will be staying with Papa Julio and Mrs J for a few days.  Should be highly entertaining.

And...Just Because.  Apparently, Leo has discovered a new music genre.  I think there's something to it.  I'm sure Beans will develop a new dance step for it!

 Peace Out, y'all!

* With apologies to The Bangles 

**Standard juvat opening line

Working, Traveling, and Other Such Musings

Source

Sarge's Friday post inspired me a bit in that he talked about his pending retirement and what he'll miss.  While I still have several more years of work to come, the thoughts and plans for my own ceasing of production have been in work for a bit.  Not that I'm hoping the day will get here soon, or that work is a pain, quite the contrary.  But several of my peers from when I first started have now retired, or will soon enough.  And as they discuss post-career plans, I think about the same. 

I've only been at this new gig for just over a year, but it has been a good one.  It was a big change of pace and scope- from managing a Mine Warfare portfolio, to overseeing the management of Undersea Experimentation and the development of CONOPS- Concept of Operation.  As we test and experiment on new systems, we have to write down how we plan to use it, who will operate it, how it'll communicate back to the ship or shore station, and what support is needed.  That part can be a little dry, but the actual experiments we're conducting is exciting, such as sending little robots out of subs to do interesting things, special comms between a sub and the F-35, and using 100 mph unmanned boats to drop off interesting things.

Source

In the last gig I had several bosses, which isn't optimum, but had been doing that job for 13 years so I was on auto-pilot.  I also ran my program in a way that my bosses wanted all others in my department to emulate.  So it was nice for the first law of Navy thermodynamics* to always be maintained.   

In the new position, which was a nice bump in pay, and a commensurate level of responsibility, work is very different, but far more interesting.  Mine Countermeasures and Mining had long since grown monotonous and highly disrespected by Big Navy, whereas submarine operations and other undersea missions have top level interest.  They are also the things that good authors write exciting books about, ones that stack up on both mine and Sarge's nightstands.  

As a supervisor though, I have my own office and no longer work in a cubicle environment, rolling up my sleeves on the daily, which I actually didn't mind.  I had great co-workers in a fun and often hilarious work space that is somewhat missed.  I'm a pretty social guy so it was a change to not have that same work environment, but the pay, parking space, office, and potential for upward mobility is an even trade off.  Not to mention the coolness factor of the things I work on now.

Source               

My boss, another S-3B Viking guy, is approaching his mid-60s and won't be here forever.  He's been bringing me in on all his efforts so I can pick up the ball whenever he decides to punch out.  He's even said "when you take over for me" a couple times.  That would be another bump, (good), with added stress (bad).  I had a little incident when I first took this job- some chest pain and too-high BP, which sent me to the ER, but it turned out to be just stress related as I realized I had a lot to learn and I was also absolutely dreading the commute home.  It's only 10 miles, but it was taking 40+ minutes due to traffic that I didn't have in the last job (10 minute commute).  I started listening to conservative talk radio on the drive home which really lowers my BP.  HA!  Nah, I just relaxed and realized it's just part of the job and to not let it get to me.  It was a transition for me though- commuting, supervising, planning, etc.

I only have a few folks working for me- two military, one civilian, but my boss has four senior civilians, plenty of active duty guys, and a large contractor team working with a fluctuating annual budget ($2-6M) on various Frankenstein projects that have potential to make it to the Fleet.  And if proposals aren't submitted timely or correctly, a lot of those contractors could be out of a job.  That's not the priority- helping the Fleet is, but that money is out there and it'll just go to some other command if we can't capture it.  The powers that be may want another retired O-6 in the billet though, which is probably a good idea as I'm not sure I'd be comfortable juggling all those bowling balls.  He'll get me up to speed whether or not I want to apply for it when he leaves though, because we never get a new hire quickly and I'll have to manage the program in his absence.  We'll see, but in the meantime my wife and I will be doing more of this:

Niagara Falls from the Canuck side.

The Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island Michigan

Humayun's Tomb, New Delhi India, which served as the model for the Taj Mahal

Another garden tomb in Delhi

Rainbow Falls on the Big Island of Hawaii

Waikoloa Beach Resort, Big Island

Chichen Itza near Cancun Mexico

Tampa Florida

Job prospects aside, I mentioned that pre-retirement planning has already begun for me.  My wife and I have been using the leave and travel comp time I earn by taking four trips already this year-  Tampa, Cancun, Hawaii, and Niagara Falls.  And I've been to India twice and Monterey once for work projects.  I have too many friends and relatives who either died too early, or whose health declined in their 60s so we're not waiting to start ticking off that bucket list.  We definitely have the travel bug and a commensurate level of timeshare points, so we will continue to do that both ahead of and after retirement.  My work is very interesting, challenging, and it pays the bills, but whenever I do decide to pull the handle- either at minimum or full retirement age, I won't miss it.  I've gotten a bit cynical after 14 years of Govt service.  Not that I don't like the work or feel that I'm continuing to serve honorably, but I see the bureaucracy inherent to all things the govt touches, and am absolutely unable to change a bit of it.  No matter how much we try to fix our broken and slow acquisition cycle, we still require 20 years to get a system to the Fleet.  And when we attempt to avoid the errors of the past (LCS), we do the same when we build the next (Constellation Class Frigate).  And no program is immune to constant marks by congress**, or reprogramming within the Pentagon.***

Source

On a more happy note, my Nuke Machinist Mate nephew is newly stationed here in San Diego.  And on the Carl Vinson, which was the best tour of my career.  I just might be able to get onboard for one of those family day cruises to watch some flight ops!  He's got five long years ahead of him, but he'll reenlist for an additional two years this December, at the two year mark of his career.  There's another Nuke bonus for that, and an instant promotion to E-5.  E-5 in two years!  That's what going Nuke does for you.  We'll have him over for family dinners on the regular, which he's already appreciated once.  He's in four section duty though and is under the gun to get qualified so every other weekend he'll be working.  It'll be fun to watch him start his career as I begin to wind down my own.

So, that's what's going on in Tuna world.  All in all, quite blessed and quite happy.  Enjoy your week.

*When the heats on someone else, it's not on you!

**Congress marks up the defense budget and steals money from defense programs all the time.

***The CNO also moves money around so programs are challenged to stay on schedule, budget, and performance.  Sometimes they are zeroed out, which is essentially cancelling them without having to say they're cancelled, or being blamed for it.

The Hearts of Men ...

PxHere

The President slept fitfully, he dreamt of his father and fishing along a river in Colorado when he was just a boy. But the river didn't look familiar and his father wasn't really there, he was a shadowy form nearby who kept whispering, "Be careful, my son," in Japanese.

The sun was going down, the river looked unfamiliar, he had the unsettling thought that though he had been here before, everything was now different. In his dream he began to cry, weeping for that which was lost, never to be regained.

He came awake with a start. Sitting up he looked at his wife, fortunately his dreams hadn't awakened Hiroko, who still slept soundly. The President looked at the bedside clock, it was four in the morning. He thought of going back to sleep, then decided against it.

He got up, slipped into his bathrobe and slippers, then quietly left the bedroom. The Secret Service agent in the hallway looked startled when the President stepped out. Nakagawa put a finger to his lips, whispered, "shhh," then winked at the man. Who grinned at the leader of the free world, before nodding his head.

No doubt that man had called down to the kitchen because when the President arrived there, Bill Aspinall was there, starting a fresh pot of coffee.

"Do you ever sleep, Bill?" Nakagawa pulled up a chair at the kitchen island and sat heavily.

Aspinall grinned and said, "I could ask you the same, boss."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nakagawa said, "I looked it up."

"Sir?"

"The time difference between DC and Moscow, it's seven hours, not six."

Aspinall shook his head, "I guess it was all those years I spent in Germany, I just think. 'Oh, Europe, that's six hours ahead of the east coast.' Knowing full well that London is five and Moscow is seven ahead."

"Don't sweat it, you could have said, 'It's morning, they should be at work by now.' I mean, I should know the time difference as well, spent a couple of years in Germany myself."

"Neither of us is getting the rest we should be getting." Aspinall pointed out, pushing a cup of coffee over to the President.

As Nakagawa took his first sip he said, "Don't I know it?"

At a plush chalet in Switzerland, high in the Alps, another group of men were sitting around a conference room table. They were all extremely wealthy and just knew that their ideas were better than anyone else's. Lunch was finished and cigars and cognac were the next item of business.

"So Johann, what should our next move be? Perhaps we should let them grow complacent, let them think that they have managed to settle things down." Rafael de Lima slowly exhaled smoke as he took in the magnificent view.

"Ah Rafael, I had such a thought, but I think one more action is necessary, something spectacular I think."

Pierre Mallet smirked and asked, "What could be more spectacular than a nuclear explosion which killed four warships at sea?"

Johann Obrecht smiled, took a long pull on his cigar, then said, "Perhaps a nuclear explosion which kills an entire city."

Aziz Haghighi nearly choked on his cognac, recovered and asked, "Is such a thing possible? I know we have the finances, but can we get the device?"

Elihu Baum smiled and said, "I may have a source."

"Well then gentlemen, shall we make a plan?" Tahara Yoshimatsu nodded at the others, "We need to start somewhere."

"I suppose I should go and get dressed, what's on the agenda for today?" Nakagawa finished his coffee and stood up.

"You actually have a press conference scheduled for 1:00 PM Eastern." Aspinall checked his phone, "Yup, one in the afternoon."

"Here at the White House?"

"Yes, it's time you talked to the press, live and in color. So to speak."

Nakagawa frowned, "If I must, I must, but don't tell me I have to like it."

"I would never do that, Mr. President." Aspinall grinned when he said that.

"You're an evil bastard, Bill."

"That I am, Sir, that I am."

Each of the seven men had taken three slips of paper and written the name of a city on each slip. The slips of paper were then placed in a ceramic vase which might have been worth more than the chalet itself.

"Remember gentlemen, you can't write down the same city more than once, no matter how much you dislike that city." Baum had said at the start with a chuckle, looking at Haghighi. Baum himself would have written 'Tehran' on all three of his slips. As he knew Haghighi would have written 'Tel Aviv' on his.

"I would also say, 'No picking a city in Japan,' we've already had our turn." Tahara had said.

That produced a laugh from all of the men.

"Who shall do the honors?" Obrecht asked, placing the vase on a low table in the sitting area.

"I know!" Mallet picked up the house phone and said, "We need a maid in the sitting room."

Minutes later a very attractive native of Switzerland came in, "Gentlemen, you called for a maid?"

"Yes, my dear, if you would be so kind, please reach into that vase," he pointed at the low table, "and draw from it a single slip of paper."

Fiona Stahler smiled and said, "My pleasure, Herr Tahara."

She went to the table and slid her hand into the vase. She made sure she only drew a single slip then pulled her hand out, handing the slip of paper to Herr Obrecht, the man she thought was the leader of this group.

"Thank you, my dear, that will be all."

When Fräulein Stahler had gone, Obrecht opened the paper and read the name to himself. He said nothing at first, he wondered if he should tell them one of the names he had written down, but they might want to see the name for themselves. So he simply placed the slip of paper on the table.

"A good choice, see for yourselves, now we must make it happen."

Each of the seven looked at the name written on the paper, only one had a pang of regret when he read the name, but that had passed. Individual lives were of no consequence in the grand scheme of what they were trying to accomplish, why should a single city matter at all?

A fire was built in the fireplace and Haghighi emptied the vase into the flames. Obrecht handed him the last slip of paper and Haghighi glanced at it one more time before consigning it to the fire. Much as the city itself would be consigned to nuclear fire.

A pity, he thought, I would have liked to walk along the Seine one more time ...

The Pause That Refreshes

OAFS Photo

I decided to give the Muse the night off, she's been pulling a lot of overtime lately and I just can't type fast enough to keep up with her.

Don't know how many of you readers do the Book of Faces, I do, it's good for keeping abreast of what the family is up to, kid photos and the like. Things that I posted in the past pop up and remind me of other times, different times. I avoid the political as much as possible  it's anathema to me.

Anyhoo ...

The lead-in photo is from eight years ago. It came up today in my memories over at the Book of Faces. That's my late cat, Sasha. I have written of her and her sister Anya more than once in this space. (This one is a favorite.) That photo was taken by me whilst in the midst of recovering from surgery. Hernia I think it was, probably caused by the surgery I had done the year before for my diverticulosis. (Which is why I have a semi colon now. Heh.)

At any rate, I was in rather a bit of pain due to the cut made in the abdominal wall. (Do you know how much you use your stomach muscles on a daily basis? I didn't until I had incisions therein. The answer is, a lot.)

Sasha appointed herself my guardian on that occasion (the year before as well). Whenever The Missus Herself or Your Humble Scribe were seriously under the weather, Sasha would be there. Providing moral support if you will.

The picture really set me back a step or two. Sasha has been gone for over three years, her sister Anya died over a year ago. I swear I still hear their footsteps in the night. I can hear one of them jumping down off of one of their high perches where they kept an eye on things. I miss them.

Life moves on, things change, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. But change it does and one must learn to adapt or risk becoming mired in "what was." I try not to do that but hey, sometimes it just happens.

Heck, I'm not getting any younger, retirement approaches (less than 120 days to go), and things are going to change. Again.

They changed after I retired from the Air Force, 25 years ago. In fact, today marks the 25th anniversary of my starting employment at the current gig. Which will end in a few short months.

Walking around the building I will see something and realize, in four months, I won't see that any more. Do I feel a sense of regret thinking of that? Well, yes and no.

No more getting up at the butt crack of dawn and sweating the incompetents on the road, working through the day, sometimes dealing with howling maniacs who have no idea what they are doing.

But I'll miss the lady who makes my breakfast, I'll miss my co-workers and the camaraderie we share. (At my mid-year review, my section manager indicated that a number of comments from my co-workers reflected that "he makes the workplace fun." Never had a higher accolade than that I think.) Having to work can be a pain, doesn't mean it can't be fun at times.

Well, that's all I have for today. We'll dive back into the Sturm und Drang of the current fictional epic soon. Maybe even tomorrow. I still need to figure out who the bad guys are in all of this.

Be seeing you ...

Own Goal

Source

The meeting with the National Security Council had ended late and had been somewhat contentious. There were a few who wanted the United States to intervene directly in the current crisis between India and Pakistan. The President had listened to all the various points of view, then had ended the meeting. It was nearly time for the satellite overflight of the Punjab.

After the meeting had adjourned, the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations had requested a short meeting with the President.

"What does this pertain to, Mr. Ambassador?" Bill Aspinall was direct and to the point, he had no time for the diplomatic niceties. Truth was, he was exhausted.

James van de Burg, a career diplomat who had been born in the Netherlands but had come to the United States as small child, smiled.

"To the point, I like that. I have someone with me who the President should meet, her name is Hamara Segrah Kaur, she's a Pakistani Sikh with close ties to the Sikh separatist movement. She is not part of it but her brother is high up in that group."

"Interesting, when do you propose?"

"Now, Mr. Aspinall. I took the liberty of bringing her with me to the Pentagon. She is outside as I could not get her a visitor's pass."

Aspinall thought for a moment, then nodded. "Josh, got a minute?"

LCDR Higgins came over to the two men, "What's up, Bill?"

"You know our UN Ambassador, right?"

"I do, good to see you, Mr. Ambassador." Higgins said while extending his hand.

"I'd like you to go with the Ambassador down to security and help him get a visitor's pass for a lady he's brought in as a subject matter expert on the Sikh separatist movement. She might be useful over the next few hours."

Higgins nodded, "Please come with me, Mr. Ambassador."

Privates Keshav Chakarvarti and Jeet Bakshi were manning their machine gun position at the Kartarpur Corridor. The Corridor had been set up to allow Sikhs from India a place to cross over into Pakistan to visit the nearby Gurdwara Darbar Sahib where the founder of Sikhism had settled after his missionary travels. Guru Nanak had lived there for 18 years until his death in 1539.

Neither man was a Sikh, nor was their Sergeant, Ganesh Padhya. Their captain had advised the men of their platoon the night before that a reconnaissance aircraft had spotted Pakistani tanks and armored personnel carriers moving in their direction. All of the men had been briefed on the current tensions between Punjab and the central government in New Delhi.

Both men remembered the captain's last words to them that morning, "Do not fire upon the Pakistanis unless they fire upon you. This may just be a move showing support for the Sikhs, or it could be in response to the troubles in China. The world is a dangerous place lads, let's not add to that."

Chakarvarti nudged Bakshi when he saw a dust cloud in the distance, "That's a lot of vehicles, Jeet. Do you think it's the Pakistanis?"

Bakshi, the elder of the two men by three years, shrugged and said, "I doubt it's farmers going to market, laddie."

"So you see, Mr. President, Pakistan has a large Sikh minority in the Pakistani province of Punjab." Hamara Segrah Kaur explained.

Which got a raised eyebrow from Nakagawa.

"Yes, Pakistan and India both have provinces named 'Punjab,' it was all one place before the partition of 1947. To be honest, relations between the Muslim majority and the Sikh minority in Pakistan have never been very good. They are worse now, many Sikhs would love to have their own nation, comprising both parts of Punjab."

"What do your contacts within Punjab think, is there going to be war?" Nakagawa asked.

"My brother would very much like to see a Sikh nation, but he is also a realist. I spoke with him not three days ago, he thinks that the Pakistani Intelligence Bureau is behind this submarine incident. My brother has contacts within the Indian Navy, they were stunned that the Chakra was equipped with nuclear torpedoes, something not in the Indian Navy's inventory. Speculation is that the Chakra surreptitiously made port in Karachi to take those torpedoes on board."

Nakagawa sat up straight in his chair, "Are you telling me the Pakistani Navy gave the Chakra those torpedoes?"

"Not officially, Mr. President. There are elements within Pakistan, in the government and in the military, that desperately want to add Jammu and Kashmir to the national territory. These elements, so my brother says, would benefit greatly in the event of war between China and India."

"Idiots!" Marine General Wurther snapped from the back corner of the room.

"You have something to share, General?" Nakagawa asked, slightly annoyed at the interruption, but agreeing with the sentiment.

"When are those in power going to realize that you take something from somebody, people are going to die? Not their sons, but the sons of the middle class and the poor. Idiots. Sorry Mr. President but this kind of shit, sorry ma'am, drives me crazy."

Nakagawa looked Hamara Segrah Kaur in the eye and asked, "What would you have the United States do, if it was up to you?"

"Nothing, Mr. President. As I understand it, the Chinese are busy with their own demons right now. I suspect that the Pakistani Army will step in to curb their rogue forces. If not, the Indian Army will make short work of them. Attacking India is a very bad idea, as much as we Sikhs love our religion and the thought of our own homeland, I know many Indian Sikhs who will rally to New Delhi due to this potential incursion."

Nakagawa almost sighed with relief, instead he stood up and offered his hand, "Thank you, Madam, you have given me some very good advice I think."

As she and the UN Ambassador turned to go, Nakagawa spoke, "Ambassador van de Burg, please come see me at your earliest convenience."

"I will, Mr. President."

The alarm klaxon began to sound as the column of Pakistani armor drew near the border. The head of the column had already crossed the Ravi River. The column began to deploy into a combat formation when Sergeant Ganesh Padhya saw two aircraft approaching from the left. Bringing his field glasses up, he identified them as Pakistani Air Force Dassault Mirage 5s.

"Where the hell is our air force?" He muttered as he scrunched down further into the machine gun position. It was fairly proof against bullets, but bombs? He thought not.

The two jets dropped lower and made a very high speed pass over the lead tanks of the Pakistani column. They then continued at a very high rate of speed up the river valley until they were out of sight.

"What was that all about, Sergeant?" Private Chakarvarti asked.

"I don't know, son. You'd think they would be making that low pass over us, in preparation for a bomb run ... Dear Lord." Padhya stopped as he saw the two jets approaching again, from the opposite direction, but again seeming to head for the Pakistani column.

Padhya watched in shock as the aircraft dropped their ordnance on the lead Pakistani vehicles.

"What in the name of all that is Holy is happening here?" Padhya muttered.

"Was that what I think it was?" the President rose to his feet in horror.

"Yes Sir, the Pakistani Air Force, well two of their jets, just bombed elements of the Pakistani Army." General Wurther couldn't believe his own eyes, but the satellite coverage was so good that they could even make out the insignia on the Pakistani jets, Mirages he thought.

Bill Aspinall spoke, "Look Sir, the lead elements are turning back from the border. Well, what's left of them."

Nakagawa could see that. He also saw at least three burning tanks, "Well okay, one tank and two APCs on fire," he thought.

The phone on the desk he was using buzzed, he picked it up, "Nakagawa here."

"Mr. President, I have the Prime Minister of India on the line ..."

"Put her through."

"Prime Minister Chetti, it's good to hear your voice. How can I be of service?"

"Mr. President, things, as you might well imagine, are very hectic here at the moment. But I wanted to let you know, I've had a call from the Prime Minister of Pakistan, Zaahir Banuchi, and he assured me that the government of his country has had nothing to do with the incident with our submarine Chakra, and the troubles along the Punjabi border. I'm having my forces stand down to a lower level of readiness in order to ease tensions. Both Pakistan and India are having trouble with dissident elements who seek to overthrow the established governments of our nations. Internal problems, such as the United States has experienced lately as well. I personally wish to thank you for your support and your forbearance in these matters."

"Certainly, Madam Prime Minister. If there is anything my government can do to reduce tensions in the region, please don't hesitate to let us know."

"I will, Mr. President, again, thank you."

After she had broken the connection, the President set the phone back on its cradle. He said nothing for a moment, then sat up and said, "If everyone will excuse us, Mr. Aspinall and I need to talk."

When the last person had left the room, he turned to his friend and aide, "So Bill, doesn't it strike you as odd that three of the world's major powers, the U.S., China, India, are suddenly having these internal troubles? Distracting us if you will."

"I cannot think it's a coincidence, boss."

"Nor can I, there's someone behind this, someone with lots of money. Drug cartels? Some wealthy financier working behind the scenes? Who stands to benefit?"

"Sir, if I were you, I might have a long talk with the President of Russia."

"What time is it in Moscow?" the President asked as he glanced at his watch, he saw that it was nearly three in the morning.

Aspinall thought for a second, "It's morning there, about nine I think."

"Arrange the call, Bill. I want to talk with Maksim Vladimirovich. I don't think his government is involved but ..."

"Russian Mafia?"

Nakagawa nodded, "They've got the money, they've got the motive, and this is certainly an opportunity with all of us focused inwards. Could well be."

"I'll make the call, boss."

Things Heat Up ...

Source

Elements of the 70th Motorized Infantry Brigade rolled out of the early morning mists along the Yanghe River valley to the west of Zhangjiakou. Whoever was commanding the brigade had picked possibly the worst time of day to attack. The attackers were looking into the sun and were effectively blind to the positions of Premier Liu's forces.

But as Colonel Kang pointed out, the nature of the terrain forced the attack to come down the river valley.

"I would have waited until sunset, then the sun would be in our eyes." Kang had said.

"It matters not," Premier Liu had pointed out, "this is the last gasp of the defeated. I've had word from Beijing, the city is completely under our control."

Direction of the Communist attack
Source

Liu was right, the forces loyal to the new regime had cut the attacking Communist forces to red ribbons well before the midday meal. With the destruction or retreat of the enemy's armored forces, the surviving infantry threw down their arms. Many of whom had also made prisoners of their officers.

Afterwards, Liu had asked for a full briefing on the status of their revolution, or counter-revolution as one defeated general had called it, shortly before Liu had had him shot as a traitor to the Chinese people.

General Liao Hanying laid out a paper map of western China on a large table in one of the many community centers on the outskirts of Zhangjiakou. He pointed to the Xinjiang Autonomous Region which bordered Tibet and Kashmir, "The local leaders there have declared themselves independent of China. I have ordered our forces which were to evacuate Tibet to remain in place and prepare for an advance on Xinjiang."

Premier Liu turned on the General with a terrible look on her face, "How dare you  countermand my orders? In order to placate the West and give us time to rebuild the government, I ordered that move. Besides which, Tibet is nothing but a drain on our economy."

General Liao's face went pale, "Madam Premier, if we let Tibet go, we might as well say goodbye to Xinjiang as well."

General Liao's Map
Source

The Premier looked at the map for a long moment, her anger began to subside when she saw the logic of Liao's move. "My apologies General, it is a wise move. I wish it were different but you are correct, I am in error."

She turned to Colonel Kang, who was rapidly becoming her chief aide and confidant, "Colonel Kang, we must prepare a statement to address this. I want to assure the West that our remaining in Tibet is temporary. Until we deal with the separatists in Xinjiang, Tibet will have to wait."

Kang nodded, then said, "Why not let both go? This is not the time of the emperors when our trade went by land. The Silk Road and even Xi's Belt and Road Initiative add only useless mouths to feed to China's economy. We are a sea power now, most of our trade goes by sea, mostly to the West. Xi's plan was to place Chinese military outposts to influence our neighbors. Let our newly revived economy influence those petty bureaucrats and tyrants to the west of the Middle Kingdom. Why should we seek to expand our territory when the people go hungry?"

Premier Liu looked at Kang for a long moment, "There is merit to your argument. We need to discuss this with the council. No longer will China be ruled by the whims of a few. I think we need to put this to people."

"Plebiscite?"

"Perhaps." Liu said, in almost a whisper.

President John Nakagawa wasn't really up for a meeting with the Congressional leadership, but it was part of the job. He had Marine One pick him up at the Pentagon and fly him back to the White House. They had heard from Premier Liu and knew that she was firmly back in control. The Joint Chiefs were NOT happy with the Chinese not withdrawing from Tibet, but the explanation of the situation in Xinjiang made them see the logic of the move, at least from a military standpoint.

There had still been no word from New Delhi. Satellite reconnaissance showed no open hostilities, but word coming out of Punjab indicated that a rather large number of Sikh soldiers had managed to go on leave and return home. General Wurther had mentioned that numbers of those "vacationers" added up to about two divisions worth of troops.

"But no heavy weapons such as artillery and tanks. Logistically they'd wither on the vine, but they could make trouble for a week or two. The ensuing blood bath would be epic though."

The President nodded and said, "Great, just wonderful." Then he'd been informed that the Congressional delegation had arrived.

He had taken a guilty pleasure when the delegation had arrived at the White House. For the past few weeks there had been a crowd of Americans always nearby. Aspinall estimated that there were at least a hundred always there, on some days the crowd swelled to nearly a thousand. The crowd had booed the delegation when they had arrived.

The new Speaker of the House, a nondescript man who had been selected precisely for that reason, had apologized to the President for the short notice.

"It's alright, Mr. Speaker, I'm no stranger to booing. Though I have to admit the people have been more friendly as of late."

The delegation had come to discuss the national referendum scheduled to take place two weeks hence. Nakagawa was always conscious of the fact that he had not been elected to this office he now held. The referendum sought to let the American people decide if they were comfortable with the results of the recent troubles.

Vice President Herbert Norville joined the President and the Congressional leadership, he knew most of the men and women in the room. There were a few new faces, people who had been selected by their state legislatures to fill "vacated" positions. Some of their predecessors had died in the uprising. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"So Bob, why don't you tell us how the preparation for the referendum is proceeding?" the Vice President addressed the Speaker, Robert Halswell, directly.

The Speaker cleared his throat, "Ahem, uh, did you both see the documents we sent over this morning?"

"Yes, we did," the President answered, "the White House Counsel has looked it over, she's okay with it. So the Vice President and I have both signed and agree to abide by the decision of the people."

"Well, Mr, President, the polls," he held up his hands as the Vice President shook his head in disgust, "are showing nearly 75% acceptance of the current situation. And Mr. Vice President, these polls are not being conducted by the traditional media. I'm talking about blogs and other social media outlets. Hell, even Facebook shows the people overwhelmingly in your favor."

For the first time since the meeting had started, the President smiled. Not his political "nice to meet you" smile but the smile his wife Hiroko would have recognized. With that the meeting broke up, but one of the party detached themselves from the main body as they all headed to the exit.

Bill Aspinall leaned in and whispered, "Wilma Genesee, the junior Senator from Oregon, Hawthorne's replacement." Nakagawa nodded, then moved towards the newest Senator from Oregon.

"Senator Genesee, I'm pleased to meet you," he said, extending his hand. Which she gripped firmly.

"I just wanted you to know, Mr. President, Oregon bears you no grudge. My predecessor was an evil, grasping man. I watched the video he made. Disgusting. The State of Oregon has already stricken his name from a number of public buildings."

"Well Senator, surely he served well early in his career."

"So did Benedict Arnold, Mr. President."

"Yes, indeed. Thank you for coming, Senator."

"I hope we will have the chance to work together a lot in the next few years."

With a smile, the Senator left.

Turning to Aspinall, the President shook his head, "That went better than I expected."

Then he looked over as LCDR Higgins, with a glum look on his face, came hurrying in.

The President muttered, "Shit."

"Yes, Mr. President, more bad news. Elements of the Pakistani Army rolled into Punjab, not fifteen minutes ago, or so the Indian government has informed us."

"Satellite coverage?"

"It's 1900 in India, Sir. Next overflight won't be until thirty minutes after midnight our time."

The President raised an eyebrow.

"That'll be ten tomorrow morning in India." Higgins had been ready for that, he had two new time zones programmed into his smartphone, China Standard Time and Indian Standard Time.

Nakagawa looked at his Vice President, who recommended, "I'd convene the National Security Council."

"Agreed, set it up. I want to meet at the NMCC¹, if we need to take action, I want the Joint Chiefs present, they can advise as well. Let's go, Bill, fire up Marine One."

"Herbert, I want you up at Site R, in case this whole mess goes sideways."

Norville nodded, "I'll contact you when we get there."

"Godspeed, Herbert."

"Amen to that, John."

¹ National Military Command Center.