The Vaults of Heaven (AU)

[Wolfman]

Hummel’s gonna dance Danny Deever for sure.

[Poohbah]

19 December 1987
Eglin Air Force Base

Lieutenant Colonel Pearson Ford said, "Attention to orders!"

Mantell stood to attention.

"The President of the United States of America

"To all who shall see these presents, greeting:

"Know Ye that, reposing special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity and abilities of Joshua Joseph Mantell, I do appoint him a Chief Warrant Officer Two in the United States Air Force to rank as such from the 15th day of December, 1987. This Officer will therefore carefully and diligently discharge the duties of the office to which appointed by doing and performing all manner of things thereunto belonging.

"And I do strictly charge and require those Officers and other personnel of lesser rank to render such obedience as is due an officer of this grade and position. And this Officer is to observe and follow such orders and directives, from time to time, as may be given by me, or the future President of the United States of America, or other Superior Officers acting in accordance with the laws of the United States of America.

"This commission is to continue in force during the pleasure of the President of the United States of America for the time being, under the provisions of those Public Laws relating to Officers of the Armed Forces of the United States of America and the component thereof in which this appointment is made.

"Done at the City of Philadelphia, this 10th day of December in the year of our Lord One Thousand Nine Hundred Eighty-Seven and of the Independence of the United States of America the Two Hundred Thirteenth.

"By the President:

"George H. W. Bush."

Ford then said, "Please raise your right hand."

Mantell did so.

"Please repeat after me. I, Joshua Joseph Mantell. . . "

" . . . having been appointed a Chief Warrant Officer Two in the United States Air Force . . . "

" . . . do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic . . . "

" . . . that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same . . . "

" . . . that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion . . .

" . . . and that I will well and faithfully discharge the office upon which I am about to enter."

"So help me God."

Mantell fired his best possible salute, and Ford returned it.

"Congratulations, Warrant Officer Mantell."

"Thank you, sir."

Ford cut the salute, and Mantell did so as well.

Chief Master Sergeant Chad Boisell stepped forward, and rendered a salute.

Mantell returned it, then shook Boisell's hand and handed him a near mint 1848 silver dollar coin. "Chief, I wasn't able to get an 1887 silver dollar, but I did find one from 1848, which is 100 years before my father was commissioned in the Navy. Thank you for the mentorship into the culture of the Air Force and the Air Commandos."

"Thank you, sir. I know you'll make us proud."

* * *

19 December 1987
Chandler, AZ

Roberta jerked awake.

Helen woke up next to her. "You OK, darling?"

Roberta flopped onto her back. "Not sure." She took a deep breath, held it a few seconds, then breathed out slowly and steadily. After about ten repetitions, she felt relaxed enough to talk.

"I was dreaming about Josh."

Helen snuggled closer. "I miss him, too, darling. He was . . . complicated . . . but lovable."

"Maybe the price for having you is that he's gone."

Helen said, "Quit torturing yourself like that."

"Would you still be with me if he were still alive?"

Helen laughed. "Oh, yes, my love. Absolutely. And I would be doing my best to get you to stop moping. You're just overworked, darling."

Something in Helen's voice struck a chord inside Roberta.

"Maybe."

They drifted back to sleep in each other's arms.

* * *

20 December 1987
20th Air Force HQ (Forward)
Altus AFB, OK

Mantell marched into the office of Lieutenant Colonel George Cedar, stopped precisely six inches from his desk, saluted, and said, "Sir, Warrant Officer Mantell reports!"

"At ease and pull up a piece of chair, Chief."

Mantell sat down, and Cedar said, "OK, I've gotten the run-down on you. First, holy shit, you were at Lubbock AIrport?"

"Yes, sir."

"You know the entire town's still half locked down by the DOE boys."

"No, sir, I didn't."

"NEST is discreetly searching the entire town. It seems that you and your Marines managed to capture just over 300 nuclear weapons. Unfortunately, the inventory sheets only listed about 280."

Josh blinked, then said, "Wow, sir, that's a right mess."

"Indeed." Cedar sat back slightly. "That said, you did the impossible, Chief. One reason that you came to General Lodge's attention. So, moving along to your assignment, I'm afraid we don't have a team for you yet. We always need SROs for more than just leading teams out yonder. We also use them for internal operational and communications security, and it's a way to familiarize you with your kit before you're possibly getting shot at. So, right now, I'm going to have you shadow SRT Montana's team leader, Chief Miller." Cedar looked carefully at Josh. "You're not one of those idiots who thinks that women can't be Air Commandos, are you?"

"My first butterbar as a platoon sergeant was a woman. Damn fine Marine, outstanding leader. When she had to be medevac'd during 49 Easting, I had to lean on the 'Lieutenant Dunbar expects us to shine' button a whole bunch."

Cedar nodded.

* * *

Chief Miller was tall and wiry, with light brown hair in a pageboy.

"So, you're Mantell."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sophie Henrix warned me about you. Said you were a sneaky sonofabitch who did things like put the chemistry teacher's car into his classroom while playing hooky from a mandatory assembly."

"She was right there next to me, ma'am."

Miller beamed, dimples showing on her cheeks. "She didn't tell me that part!"

"It was definitely a team effort, we all solved different parts of the puzzle."

Miller nodded. "Good. So, let's start figuring out what you do know, and what you need to learn. Ready?"

"Nobody ever drowned in sweat, ma'am."

"Attaboy."

* * *

Mantell looked around the combat town training facility through his NVGs.

He knew an ambush was coming; the only question was where. He checked lanes of fire from the next block, rejected the first house on the left as far too vulnerable to counterattack, and decided that the fourth house upon his side of the street was perfect for staging an ambush.

He made a series of hand gestures to the rest of his team.

* * *

Alyssa Miller swore quietly as she watched Mantell's team break cover and sprint across the street.

How in the hell did he see that?

* * *

After actions on the objective, Miller took Mantell aside. "Walk with me."

She led him back to the spot he'd been in and said, "Walk me through your decision-making, please."

"All right. I'm expecting an ambush. Things had been too quiet, and we were closing in on the objective. Thinking like my adversary, I don't want to give the running dog lackeys of capitalism a free ride to a high value target. The only question remaining was where the ambush would be." Mantell pointed to the house at the intersection. "Obvious spot for an ambush, commanding fields of fire west and south. But too obvious. Great fields of fire covering the intersection, but at the same time, it's way too vulnerable to an assault coming down the cross-street from the east and would require teams in at least two other houses to provide enough cover. That means a lot of radio chatter, and the Interplex didn't pick up anything. But on the west side of the street, four houses south, there's a two-story house with very nice fields of view and fire, and it's pretty secure against close assault without requiring a lot of chatter. It's where I'd put my ambush. So I duck back half a block, cross over, and work my team up the block through back yards until I have a good shot at the northside second floor window, and told Smitty to hit them with the Charlie G. Once the ambush is cracked, it really is a free ride to the objective."

Miller's jaw dropped.

"You thought through that ambush better than I did!"

"Ain't my first rodeo, ma'am."

Miller raised an eyebrow.

"Ma'am, how did you get recruited?"

"I got Curb-Stomped out of the software engineering program at Stanford in '86. The Army decided I'd make a great data processing dweeb, and General Lodge offered me a shot at being a warrant officer. And here I am."

"I was a fire team leader, squad leader, platoon sergeant, and platoon leader in the 26th Marines--all the way back to Alpha Company (Provisional), Marine Air Group 16, in the Tri-County. Got sent to Vandenberg for psychiatric rehab, and I got pitched."

"How much do you know about computers?"

"I was an aircraft maintenance admin clerk, I wrote some programs to automate parts of the job. Third Marine Air Wing uses them across the entire wing, I hear."

"All right. You taught ME a thing or two today. I'm going to suggest that they also use you for training our new operators all across 23rd Air Force; you have a lot of knowledge that needs to be shared out. Let's spend tomorrow looking at close technical reconnaissance."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

22 December 1987
Philadelphia, PA

Stephanie Hummel made her way along the slushy sidewalk. Less than five blocks away, the towers of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel.

The President would shit himself if he knew who was down here.

A staff car pulled up next to her, and a cultured voice said, "Major Hummel! Get in before you catch your death of a cold!"

Hummel climbed into the car and closed the door behind her. The "catch your death" phrase told her she could speak freely.

Colonel Albert Mueller, commander of the 599th Military Police Brigade, USAR, smiled at her. "So, we're secure. But it's getting to be more of a pain in the ass every month."

Hummel said, "I have some candidates." She handed over a folder. Mueller opened it and read it under the dome light, scanning each page rapidly.

"Very good. I agree with your assessment of McVeigh and Nichols as our best candidates. Lots of anger, alignment to the basics of our cause, and just dumb enough to do what they're told by a suitable authority figure. I'll have Schmidt cut the orders tomorrow morning. Now, let's move on to the fall guy."

Hummel said, "There's always General Lodge out at at King of Prussia."

"No. Don't ever try to get clever with Lodge. He'll have you stuffed and mounted before you know you're dead."

"I wasn't thinking of going directly at him. Turns out one of his operators is up for the Medal, and it's making its way through the process. Might hit at the same time as Zangas' award does."

"His people would never get a public award for anything they did for him."

"He's now in the Air Force--Special Reconnaissance, whatever that is, It's part of 23rd Air Force, so it's an Air Commando outfit. But they recruited him from the Marines. He was at Lubbock International, apparently his platoon ended up being the rock of the Marine position when the KGB counterattacked. And get this: he was in the rehab wing at Vandenberg. The legend writes itself: dangerous lunatic given even more training in being dangerous by a reckless USAF intelligence and special ops proponent. If we make it look like this guy did it, it's going to splash on Lodge."

"I'll run it past Prime. Do nothing until he approves."

Hummel said, "My honor is loyalty."

[Matt Wiser]

That phrase hasn't been heard in a very long time.

[Belushi TD]

Poobah - Got a question for you.

See the below - There's three names, Sophie, Helen and Roberta, but I think there's only two people in the room. Or did I misread it?

19 December 1987
Chandler, AZ

Sophie jerked awake.

Helen woke up next to her. "You OK, darling?"

Sophie flopped onto her back. "Not sure." She took a deep breath, held it a few seconds, then breathed out slowly and steadily. After about ten repetitions, she felt relaxed enough to talk.

"I was dreaming about Josh."

Helen snuggled closer. "I miss him, too, darling. He was . . . complicated . . . but lovable."

"Maybe the price for having you is that he's gone."

Helen said, "Quit torturing yourself like that."

"Would you still be with me if he were still alive?"

Helen laughed. "Oh, yes, my love. Absolutely. And I would be doing my best to get you to stop moping. You're just overworked, darling."

Something in Helen's voice struck a chord inside Roberta.

"Maybe."

They drifted back to sleep in each other's arms.

Thanks,
Belushi TD

[Poohbah]

Poobah - Got a question for you.

See the below - There's three names, Sophie, Helen and Roberta, but I think there's only two people in the room. Or did I misread it?

19 December 1987
Chandler, AZ

Sophie jerked awake.

Helen woke up next to her. "You OK, darling?"

Sophie flopped onto her back. "Not sure." She took a deep breath, held it a few seconds, then breathed out slowly and steadily. After about ten repetitions, she felt relaxed enough to talk.

"I was dreaming about Josh."

Helen snuggled closer. "I miss him, too, darling. He was . . . complicated . . . but lovable."

"Maybe the price for having you is that he's gone."

Helen said, "Quit torturing yourself like that."

"Would you still be with me if he were still alive?"

Helen laughed. "Oh, yes, my love. Absolutely. And I would be doing my best to get you to stop moping. You're just overworked, darling."

Something in Helen's voice struck a chord inside Roberta.

"Maybe."

They drifted back to sleep in each other's arms.

Thanks,
Belushi TD

Fixed. My brain misfired.

[jemhouston]

Mantell may not be as smart as the King of Prussia, but damn close. You'll regret it.

[Poohbah]

20 March 1988
Presidential Suite
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Philadelphia, PA

President George H. W. Bush welcomed Secretary of Defense Frank Carlucci and Admiral William Crowe into the "Executive Office," the bland name given to his working area.

"Mister Secretary, Admiral, welcome. You're both looking well. So, what brings you here today?"

"Mister President," Carlucci began, "We have a couple of Medal of Honor citations we're requesting approval for. Admiral Crowe has the military details on each of these. One's from the Battle of Wichita, the other's from PRAIRIE FIRE. We're hoping for a quick yes/no determination so we can schedule the award ceremony for next month in support of the next War Bond Drive."

Bush nodded. "I see. So, who's first?"

Carlucci handed over the folder.

Crowe said, "First Lieutenant Helen Zangas, United States Army Reserve. She was the acting commander of Bravo Troop, First Squadron, Fourth Cavalry Regiment. First Squadron is the Divisional Cavalry Squadron for the Big Red One, the First Mechanized Infantry Division. They were sent out to screen VII Corp's right flank during the preliminaries for Wichita. Well, it turned out Third Shock Army was looking to flank VII Corps, and they would have . . . except for Bravo Troop.

"They took on an entire tank regiment equipped with T-80Bs, loaded with the Songster missile. They were outnumbered 9:1, but between what Schwartzkopf called 'one hell of a piece of soldiering' and Zangas' determination, Bravo Troop held them for three hours--long enough to allow First Mech to slam a mech brigade, an armored brigade, and their aviation brigade into Third Shock Army's front, while the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment and the 6th Air Cavalry Combat Brigade hit their right flank.

"At that point, Ivan's plans for Wichita were irretrievably broken. But he didn't quite know that. Without Lieutenant Zangas' heroic stand, the battle would have been a much close run thing--or maybe we would have lost, and the PRAIRIE FIRE counteroffensive delayed another year."

Bush read several of the statements and the radio transcripts, remembering his own experiences flying from the San Jacinto.

He quickly wrote "Approved" and signed the document.

"And the other one?"

Crowe passed the folder to Carlucci, who handed it to Bush. "Mister President, this one is interesting. Joshua Mantell was a Gunnery Sergeant in Fifth Marine Division. He has since been commissioned a Warrant Officer in the Air Force, as a Special Reconnaissance Operator, apparently to the joy of both the Marine Corps and the Air Force."

Bush looked at Crowe. "This guy ended up on Gray's shit list and yet he signed off on the award?"

"General Bueller may have broadly suggested that he would not go to the Senate Armed Services Committee with a laundry list of complaints regarding the overall treatment of the Fifth Marine Division in return for favorable endorsement on this award package."

Bush sighed. "I see." Politics had forced him to support Gray's permanent appointment to the post of Commandant in 1987, but he'd never been overly thrilled with Gray's crusty persona and disregard for the niceties of administration.

Bush read the award citation and the supporting documents. "Definitely above and beyond, and in the highest traditions of the Corps. I'm approving this one as well."

Carlucci said, "Mister President, there is some concern about the Soviets learning just how many of their warheads they captured."

"They know we grabbed them, we know we grabbed them, so what's the issue?"

Carlucci said, "Ah, Mr. President, we captured over 300 warheads, but they only had documentation for 282."

Bush digested this and said, "You're telling me that they 'misplaced' 20 or so nuclear weapons?"

"Yes, sir." Carlucci paused, then said, "DOE finally declared that there weren't any more nukes lying around Lubbock last week. The worry is that the Soviets may not have a solid handle on their stockpile."

Bush nodded. "All right. Say we recovered over 250 warheads. Let them wonder where the other 32-plus are. Uncertainty works both ways, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And task Lodge's group out at King of Prussia with nailing down exactly how many they brought to the Americas--Cuba, Mexico, and US territory. I don't want us getting caught by surprise."

"Yes, sir."

27 March 1988
Altus AFB, OK

Mantell matched in to Cedar's office. "Sir, Warrant--"

"Ferchrissake, Chief, I know your rank and name. Siddown."

Mantell sat, and Cedar rolled his eyes. "Sit at ease, willya?"

Mantell relaxed, and Cedar smiled. "Much better." He reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of Macallan 12. "Bought a dozen of these as a shavetail, swore I'd open one whenever a sufficiently suitable occasion occurred. This is the first I've ever cracked." He opened the bottle and poured two fingers each into two tumblers.

"What's the occasion, sir?"

Cedar handed a tumbler to Josh. "You're being awarded the Medal. For Lubbock."

Josh stared at Cedar as if he'd grown two heads.

"Not pranking you, Chief. The surprise is that it got approved this fast. My sources here and there are telling me that various powers that be want the upcoming war bond drive to really pop. You're about to be famous."

"Didn't Andy Warhol say something about everyone being famous for fifteen minutes?"

"That he did." Cedar raised his tumbler. "So, to Chief Warrant Officer Mantell, hero of Lubbock."

Mantell raised his glass, then sipped. The Scotch went down very smoothly.

Cedar looked at his tumbler appreciatively. "Every bit as good as the legend says.'

"Don't know about the legend, sir, but that is damn fine whiskey."

"And he's a man of taste and refinement. Care to offer a toast?"

Mantell raised his glass. "To the lads and lasses downrange."

Cedar raised his glass. "Damn straight."

They sipped again.

* * *

Back at billeting, Miller saw Josh and said, "Got an early start on Happy Hour, I see."

"Indeed."

She came close and whispered in his ear, "I heard. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"There's a party later at the O Club. I think you should put in an appearance."

Mantell nodded.

* * *

At the Club, there was a round of applause as Mantell entered.

Mantell raised his hands for quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Nike is the legendary goddess of victory, bestowing her laurels on those she favors. But we all know that she demands sacrifice. At Lubbock, 70% of my platoon--32 men and women--gave the last full measure of devotion. Let us observe a moment of silence for these 32 Marines."

Mantell bowed his head, and the club was dead silent.

Finally, Josh raised his head and said, "Amen."

"AMEN!"

* * *

After a decent amount of time, Mantell left the club. He walked back to his BOQ hall, contemplating what this would mean for him.

Well, I just spent most of a year training for a team leadership billet that ain't happening.

"Josh?"

He turned and saw Miller--and Sophie.

Sophie said, "Well . . . congratulations."

"Thanks, Sophie."

"Come on over to my room. I think you need to talk."

* * *

Sophie's room was a mirror image of his, which in his present state of intoxication, was going to be interesting.

Sophie gestured to the couch, grabbed some 7-Up from the fridge, and said, "Right, no more booze tonight."

She poured drinks for all three of them, and looked at Josh carefully.

"How many letters did you write?"

"Across three times as a platoon leader, about 40. Most of them were from that one fight."

Sophie nodded.

"How are you handling this?"

"I'm actually a tad disappointed that I'm going to be doing grip-and-grin duties selling war bonds this spring and summer."

Alyssa said, "They also serve, them who pays the bills." She took a sip of 7-Up and said, "Josh, I may have been a software nerd, but I was looking to do that programming to perform serious business case analysis work. I have the financial analysis wherewithal to say that War Bonds are important."

Sophie nodded. "She's right, Josh."

Josh said, "Sophie, I get it, I do. But I'm just a human being. It's easy to say, from an intellectual basis, 'Yeah, it's important.' Harder when I've been training up to get a newly-formed team, and I'm going to lose some of that training. And I promise I'll behave myself."

Sophie nodded again. "All right. Look, you've got friends here and there, if you need to vent, or just want to spend some time chatting with friends . . . hey, I'm back to staff work again, I'm available."

* * *

23 March 1988
Williams AFB, AZ

Roberta watched her wife pace back and forth.

"Helen, darling, what's troubling you?"

She patted the couch next to her.

Helen came over and sat down, and Roberta put an arm around her shoulder.

"I didn't do that to get some gong hung on me. I did it because..."

Helen's voice faltered.

"God, this is going to sound so corny. I did it because . . . America needed me to. If Third Shock Army had flanked us . . . I don't see how we could have won Wichita."

Roberta looked at Helen.

"You're not laughing, Roberta."

"No, I'm not. Because I feel the same way. I've fought in a dozen urban fights, from Colton to Artesia. And I did it all for America. When I swore my commissioning oath, I realized that I wasn't defending an abstract concept of 'the United States.' I was defending my home, my land, my people, and how We the People choose to live our lives.

"And so did you. We both did things that we were taught in church and at home to consider awful--but they're now vitally necessary. There has to be a higher purpose for the things we've done. I believe that each of us is, as Jefferson so eloquently put it, endowed by our Creator with the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness--not the guarantee of happiness, but the right to seek out what will make us happy.

"I fought for the right to design buildings that are durable, functional, and beautiful by my standards, not those of some committee that thinks a cheapass concrete blockhouse is good enough for government work and fit for human habitation. You fought for the right to express mathematical truth as it is, not as whatever those geriatric freaks on the Central Committee want it to be. We fight for our right to love each other--in the USSR, we'd both be sent directly to Gulag, do not pass go, do not collect 200 rubles, for antisocial behavior."

Helen laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"We fight for our right to party, not for The Party."

Roberta cracked up.

Eventually, they fell into a companionable silence.

Roberta remembered an evening with Josh. "I remember something Josh once said."

Helen snuggled against her. "Do tell."

"He said it was written on a box of C-Rations at Khe Sanh. 'For those that will fight for it...FREEDOM ...has a flavor the protected shall never know.' I didn't understand it then."

Helen sighed. "Neither of us really had a frame of reference. Now we do."

"Exactly. So, you're going to wear that gong, and wear it as well as you can. Not for you, and not for me; for everyone who's gone ahead to Fiddler's Green serving America, who can't bear witness any more."

* * *

24 March 1988
Glen Foerd on the Delaware
Philadelphia, PA

The mansion dated back to the 1850s. Over time, it had shifted ownership, until the Sun Children Trust had quietly purchased the property in 1971, beating out an offer by the Lutheran Church.

The rathskeller was in the basement.

Mueller came to attention and raised his arm. "Heil Hitler!"

Voelker--also known as Prime--returned the salute.

"Well, Colonel, how do the preparations go?"

"Sir, McVeigh and Nichols are preparing the device. They're fabricating a series of liners to take down the the main structural supports in the Ritz-Carlton. As long as they park the truck in the proper spot--and that should be easily done with the forged credentials indicating that they are doing electronic countersurveillance--the building will rapidly collapse."

"So, what kind of man is our patsy?"

"He is a former Marine infantryman. My estimate from reading his citation package is that he is a man with a strong bias for action, but is more cunning than intelligent or educated. I don't have access to his service record. My sources indicate that some elements of AFSOC are not happy with going outside of the Air Force to recruit a warrant officer, especially with the waivers that were required."

Voelker nodded. "Make sure you take him down quickly. A cunning man doesn't need to be book smart to be a dangerous opponent."

"Yes, sir."

"Do we have a date for the ceremony?"

"April 20th."

Voelker frowned. "Exactly the wrong day, but for this to work we take the day we can get. Execute Operation Reinhard on April 19th."

"My honor is loyalty!"

[Matryoshka]

... YGBSM.

The USA is fighting a war of national survival on its own soil — and these chuckleheads, these absolute brain-donors, think that this is the time to assassinate a ‘moderate conservative’ President and overthrow the US Government in favour of installing original-brand, Beer-hall Putsch-style National Goddamn Socialism.

And the fall-guy they’ve chosen for the bombing is “John McClane’s Stunt Double”, Josh ‘God’s Own Monkey-Wrench’ Mantell.

...

... well, if they wuz smart, they wouldn’t be frakking Nazis, I guess.

[Craiglxviii]

I hate Illinois Nazis

[jemhouston]

Suggested business card:

Josh ‘God’s Own Monkey-Wrench’ Mantell

Cyber Ninja

Defender of the Innocent

God's Second Choice for Vengeance

[Wolfman]

Doesn’t Poohbah qualify as an ‘anti sonofabitch machine’?

[jemhouston]

Doesn’t Poohbah qualify as an ‘anti sonofabitch machine’?

He's our sonofabitch machine!

[Wolfman]

Doesn’t Poohbah qualify as an ‘anti sonofabitch machine’?

He's our sonofabitch machine!

True, he is our anti sonofabitch machine…

[Johnnie Lyle]

OOC question: What’s the mechanism for McVeigh’s radicalization in RD? In @, it was the Gulf War curbstomp, then the absolute screwups of Ruby Ridge and Waco, all stemming from the view of the US Government as a bully.

However, the Soviet invasion is going to completely upend the entire timeline of radical Nazi groups, the FBI’s concerns about right wing nationalist/militia groups, plus the Soviets are the big baddy of them all.

So how did it play out in RD and RD:VoH?

[Poohbah]

OOC question: What’s the mechanism for McVeigh’s radicalization in RD? In @, it was the Gulf War curbstomp, then the absolute screwups of Ruby Ridge and Waco, all stemming from the view of the US Government as a bully.

However, the Soviet invasion is going to completely upend the entire timeline of radical Nazi groups, the FBI’s concerns about right wing nationalist/militia groups, plus the Soviets are the big baddy of them all.

So how did it play out in RD and RD:VoH?

I looked him up; he was apparently a known racist from his first days in the Army in @. Presumably brought that in from civilian life. Also was considered to have more than a couple screws loose. Further, getting disciplined at Sacajawea Maneuver Area for disrespect to a female officer (one who had a reputation for working hard and playing harder) probably didn't help his mindset.

[Belushi TD]

OOC question: What’s the mechanism for McVeigh’s radicalization in RD? In @, it was the Gulf War curbstomp, then the absolute screwups of Ruby Ridge and Waco, all stemming from the view of the US Government as a bully.

However, the Soviet invasion is going to completely upend the entire timeline of radical Nazi groups, the FBI’s concerns about right wing nationalist/militia groups, plus the Soviets are the big baddy of them all.

So how did it play out in RD and RD:VoH?

I looked him up; he was apparently a known racist from his first days in the Army in @. Presumably brought that in from civilian life. Also was considered to have more than a couple screws loose. Further, getting disciplined at Sacajawea Maneuver Area for disrespect to a female officer (one who had a reputation for working hard and playing harder) probably didn't help his mindset.

Wonder if he tried to get lucky and when he wouldn't take "no" for an answer from her, she kicked his ass.

Belushi TD

[Kendog52361]

So, I'm wondering whether the conspirators know that Mantell is the other MOH "winner", at the same ceremony, or if they're assuming he's simply disliked and on the outs with Marine Leadership, so he looks like a good scapegoat to them.

Separately, I'm wondering whether the Nazis realize that the MP is a Soviet Agent, whether she realizes her handler is a Nazi, or whether they both think the other is on the same "team". I could honestly see, her realizing what they actually are, and drop a dime of them, because as much as she likely dislikes the US/their Leadership, she probably hates the Nazis, more.

Edit: I'm also wondering whether, when they come to "take" Josh, they find out the hard way he's visiting with Sophie and Miller, talking to them, and instead of one (what they think is a) so-so fighter, they find themselves facing 3 SROs, who can and will devastate them.

[Matt Wiser]

... YGBSM.

The USA is fighting a war of national survival on its own soil — and these chuckleheads, these absolute brain-donors, think that this is the time to assassinate a ‘moderate conservative’ President and overthrow the US Government in favour of installing original-brand, Beer-hall Putsch-style National Goddamn Socialism.

And the fall-guy they’ve chosen for the bombing is “John McClane’s Stunt Double”, Josh ‘God’s Own Monkey-Wrench’ Mantell.

...

... well, if they wuz smart, they wouldn’t be frakking Nazis, I guess.

These folks have never been known for their smarts.

And they're blindly assuming that the military would go along. This leads to Treason Trials (if they survive) and those in wartime lead to either a noodle or a noose, and one question: "What do you want for your last meal?"

[Poohbah]

01 April 1988
HQ 23rd Air Force
Altus AFB

Mantell looked at the incoming message traffic from San Francisco.

VBIEDs have destroyed most of the civil government. The garrison at the Presidio is turtled up and evacuating to Alameda, so is Treasure Island Naval Station.

He frowned. This was a high profile terrorist attack, not a proper insurgency--except that there were far too many "terrorists."

Cedar came into his cubicle. "Something bugging you, Mantell?"

"Yes, sir. I don't see the endgame here."

"The CC wants to get briefed up on force package options for a conference call with SOCOM. I need you over in plans to help generate our TPFDL."

"Sir . . . this ain't going to be a SOCOM job. What they need is a good chunk of I Marine Amphibious Force or XVIII Airborne Corps. There's just too much city for SOCOM to handle."

"Mantell, I know you've got a lot of urban combat experience--"

"Hear me out, sir." Mantell grabbed a tablet of graph paper, a pencil, and a ruler, and said, "We got a map for planning, right?"

"All we've got is a USGS topo in the planning cell--"

"Good enough, sir."

Mantell started walking to the planning cell with long strides, and Cedar hastened after him.

"Mantell, you really need to clue me in."

"What's the thinking in the planning cell?"

"Drop some TACP teams into--"

Cedar stopped talking when he said it, then said, "Yeah, that sounds pretty damn stupid."

Josh paused to stick his head into a cubicle. "Sophie! Rise and shine, we gotta save the plans team from looking like idiots."

Henrix said, "Yeah, as if!"

But she followed after him.

* * *

Cedar did some talking, and they were admitted.

Brigadier General Cassius Othman looked at Mantell.

The look seemed to say, Get me out of this situation, please!

"Chief, what do you bring to this situation?"

"How much sustained urban combat experience do we have in this room? I have 343 days total urban combat time in the past two and a half years."

Othman blinked. "Well, that's an impressively high figure, far more than anyone here. Sanity check me, please. The thinking is that we can put in some TACP teams--"

"How many, sir?"

"We can get 20 teams inserted in 24 hours."

Mantell nodded. "80 people."

He tapped the map of San Francisco on the conference table. "See that street grid, sir? Each block in this part of town is roughly a sixteenth of a mile on a side. That's 330 feet. Now, let's look at ONE block in detail. And note that I'm not looking at the skyscrapers."

Mantell tore off a sheet of graph paper and began drawing, using quick, precise strokes. "This is a typical apartment building. One square is 10 feet. Notice that there's a central corridor on each floor, and there's stairs going up and down here, here, and here; these will have to be secured." He then began drawing in floor plans. "Apartments are one, two and three bedrooms, plus bathrooms, closets, kitchen and living areas. Clearing one apartment will require two men minimum for each door in the apartment. Each apartment has a balcony. That provides an alternative egress route for a sufficiently motivated individual. It may also provide an alternative path of entry to another apartment. So, you're going to have to secure each apartment after it's cleared, until you've cleared the floor, then you're going to have to secure the whole floor until the building's secure."

He finished drawing the floor plan.

"Now this is the typical apartment building--five of these floors stacked on top of each other. I didn't include the garage area or the utility spaces, which are a whole 'nother nightmare. Now multiply this times a thousand. 80 people won't be enough to clear one typical building, gentlemen. We're raiders. We go in, we hit the objective, we secure only the part of the building we need, we rescue hostages, cart off a high value prisoner, et cetera. And then we leave. This mission needs dismounted infantry. LOTS of it. A mech infantry division--11,000-plus troops--will just disappear into the urban canyons. It doesn't have nearly enough dismount strength to do the job. That means light infantry--Marines, Airborne, light fighters. We'd need roughly . . . "

Josh looked at the map, and suddenly heard Sophie's voice.

"30,000 troops, minimum. We have to dominate the streets, isolate their fortifications, breach, and clear."

Othman looked at Sophie. "Could you give me some more detail on that, please?"

Sophie went to a blank chalkboard and began writing out figures--and came to 29,920 for a lowest possible number.

Mantell said, "Another thing: in urban fighting, you're going to get a lot of noncombat injuries--sprains, torn ligaments and tendons, fractures--that you don't normally get in our operations. Noncombat losses are about 1% per week in contact, without any actual fighting. Cities eat troops. We don't have enough, and ours are too damn valuable for other missions to commit en masse to this meatgrinder."

Othman looked at the chalkboard, then went to a secure file cabinet and pulled out a Polaroid SX-70 camera. He took pictures of the chalkboard and handed them to his deputy. "Colonel, get these points into a slide deck. Mantell, write down your arguments. I need draft slides in 20. Move."

Everyone scrambled out of the conference room.

* * *

Cedar stuck his head into Mantell's cubicle. "General Othman wants to see you."

Mantell straightened his uniform and marched to Othman's office. The aide, 1st Lieutenant Hernandez, gestured for Mantell to go in.

Mantell marched up to the desk and said, "Sir, Chief Warrant Officer Mantell reports."

Mantell heard the door shut behind him.

"Have a seat, Chief."

Mantell sat down. "Chief, I want you to know something. General Gorton was not happy to receive the briefing we put together. But he recognized its validity--and so did USSOCOM, who was equally unhappy. SOCOM actual in turn recommended moving three light divisions from strategic reserve to San Francisco, and CJCS concurred." Othman paused, then said, "That took a lot of guts, Chief. You walked into a den of Type A personalities who were spring-loaded to drop a teaspoon of water into the Sahara, and then you told them 'don't just do something, stand there!' That probably took more guts than leading that platoon at Lubbock did."

* * *

01 April 1988
DIA Headquarters
King of Prussia, PA

General Samuel Lodge looked at the report, then at Barzanian.

"Walk me through this again."

"Sir . . . the proper response to San Francisco is obvious. Lots of infantry, on the double. And these four people on the Joint Staff have no apparent connection to each other. But they all brought up the exact same objections, and came close to slow-rolling execution of the President's deployment orders."

Lodge nodded. "But your check of the Sidorova network shows these people aren't in it."

"More than that--they're not going to be in it. They're . . . well, reactionary. And not how the communists would say it. They're well to the right of the American mainstream. For example, they don't believe women should be in uniform at all, they're firmly Kinder, Kuche, Kirche . . .

Lodge chuckled at the old German phrase describing a woman's place in society: "Children, Kitchen, Church."

Barzanian blinked, then said, Yob' tvoyu maht'!

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Little Gadarene?"

"All four have German surnames. Even the Navy guy. And Germanic names just aren't that common in the Navy."

Lodge blinked. "Thin."

"Anorexic."

"Set a meeting with Sidorova."

* * *

01 April 1988
Center City Philadelphia

The bus stop ahead was crowded. Barzanian walked along the street, pacing herself precisely to hit the corner of Chestnut and South 11th at 4:55 PM.

She saw Kate Jensen in a dark business outfit, on pace, on time, Little Miss GS-12 at the Office of Personnel Management.

Kathy walked at her natural pace, her longer legs catching up to Jensen.

As she came abreast, she looked down at her watch and murmured, "6:45 PM tomorrow."

Jensen murmured, "See you then."

That told Kathy that the meet was on at DaRita's, a small Italian bistro on Quince Street.

[Johnnie Lyle]

Question - the four German-surnamed individuals were slow-rolling leg infantry or SOCOM deployment?

The text could be interpreted either way.