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Forged in Iron and Ambition (Web Novel) - Chapter 806: Christmas Eve IV: Burning Borders
Chapter 806: Christmas Eve IV: Burning Borders
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Deep within the Presidential bunker, somewhere undisclosed in the State of Delaware, President Roosevelt clutched the edge of his seat as his skin paled beyond normal means.What remained of his most loyal generals, cabinet members, and advisors stood in silence, their presence heavy, almost funereal.
Half of the states had announced secession, with multiple coalitions forming in the process.
While he had succeeded, at least temporarily, in forming a bulwark against the looming threat of total fracture, the United States now existed in an uncomfortable limbo.
Secessionist unions fought one another as much as they attempted to break the wall that kept the old American government alive, lingering, diminished, but still breathing.
However, the worst of it all was not domestic.
With the aid of their Asian allies, the Germans had launched an invasion of Guam during the week leading up to Christmas.
The invasion was swift, brutal, and total.
Guam fell in under six hours following the initial assault. The population showed little interest in waging a prolonged guerrilla campaign against the Germans, unlike those in the Philippines.
Within a single day, American access to the Pacific was severed entirely, leaving the continental United States exposed to the looming possibility of a Hawaiian invasion.
General MacArthur sat sullen and silent.
His plan had failed before it could even begin.
The Germans had anticipated his intention to strike their allies in Thailand and countered it with a preemptive invasion of the Philippines.
Two years later, and nearly a million American lives, perhaps more, the Germans had not only expelled U.S. forces from the region, but exploited their momentum to cut off American access to the Pacific entirely.
Roosevelt had no words for the failure.
Nor did MacArthur.
They sat in silence as the head of the Office of Strategic Services, what little remained of it, continued to rattle off reports concerning the secessionist crisis.
"The Midwest Republic, as they have temporarily designated themselves," the OSS director said, "has been identified utilizing Panzerfausts, most likely smuggled into the country by German agents, effectively nullifying the advantage of our armored columns."
MacArthur slammed his fist against the table, startling the room into silence. He said nothing.
The OSS representative swallowed and continued, his voice noticeably less confident.
"As I was saying... submachine guns appear to have largely replaced rifles among their infantry. They’ve managed to produce rudimentary but effective weapons using stamped components and piping, following the seizure of Detroit’s industrial base and its conversion for wartime production. Any heavier equipment they possess appears to have been either smuggled from abroad or seized from armories we failed to clear in time. Fighting for Detroit continues. Victory remains likely, but far more costly than anticipated."
Roosevelt remained silent, his grip tightening around the armrest of his wheelchair as the report continued. After a long moment, he drew in a slow breath, steadying himself.
"Assuming this battle ends in our favor," he said quietly, "what are the odds we can hold the city, and the rest of the Rust Belt we’ve been fighting over?"
MacArthur finally spoke, his voice sharp, bordering on a shout.
"Well that would fucking depend, wouldn’t it? How long are we expected to hold it? Indefinitely? There’s virtually zero chance of that. A year? Two? Three? The odds worsen with every passing month. We don’t have the men, the firepower, or the munitions to waste on expeditions into separatist states. Do you want to hold the line and wait, or continue this exercise in futility, trying to enforce legitimacy over a country that’s already tearing itself apart?"
All eyes turned to MacArthur, who had dared to openly challenge Roosevelt’s deviation from the original plan: retreating into the Northeast and consolidating a fortified rump state.
Roosevelt knew he was right.
That was the bitter part.
MacArthur’s words cut deep, particularly because Roosevelt had struggled to let go once events had spiraled beyond control.
Somewhere deep down, he had believed he could still buy time indefinitely, even after consciously accepting that the end was approaching.
Now he was forced to confront the truth.
Every force sent beyond the Appalachians had suffered higher-than-expected casualties. Their enemies, more numerous with each passing day, did not wait for approval to strike.
They simply acted.
At last, Roosevelt leaned back in his chair, exhausted, breath shallow.
"Pull our forces back," he said. "Tell the public... our public... that the operation was a punitive expedition to capture and eliminate agitators within the Midwest. That it was successful. And that we are now strategically reinforcing our defenses while the rebels exhaust themselves fighting one another."
The OSS representative’s eyes darted between the President and the remaining general staff.
They all nodded in agreement. Still, considering that he was among the lowest-ranking men present, he hesitated to speak truth to power.
"Sir... if we openly acknowledge that we are withdrawing to the edge of the Northeast, does that not mean we acknowledge that federal authority effectively ends where Maryland and Pennsylvania meet Ohio and the Virginias?"
MacArthur shot him a venomous glare.
Roosevelt raised a hand to calm the room. His eyes, however, narrowed into something far less forgiving.
"What do you think?"
The words struck the OSS representative like a freight train. He understood, instantly, that some questions, even catastrophic ones, were no longer welcome.
The meeting continued as planned. With several other topics discussed throughout the day. But the end result was the same. All federal forces would withdraw back to the borders of their Rump State.
And from now on they would simply wait for the enemy to exhaust themselves, and prepare for their own forces for the day such a fate finally arrived.
There was nothing they could do now from preventing the rest of the United States from burning itself to ashes. All they could manage was to rebuild once the damage was dealt.
And so, while the holiday season and all its joy settled upon the German Fatherland, it was nowhere to be found within the burning, collapsing borders of the United States of America.
