US DEFCON 2 Alert Triggers Global Nuclear War as Mysterious Forces Unfold in China

By 9 am local time Rick Cheney and I was airborne, flying north from Negombo, Sri Lanka to Ordos, Inner Mongolia, China. Our aircraft was heavier by two passengers, an alabaster English brunette with a damaged past and a fiery Irish lass with flaming red hair and a passion to match. After achieving altitude, my prototype aircraft had adapted its aerodynamics to its ultra-sleek configuration for speed. A direct route to our destination would only take a couple of hours in flight, but we could not risk detection flying northeast over the Bay of Bengal and then across the most populous regions of China. Instead we flew due north, across the Indian subcontinent and skirting the western border of Nepal before crossing into China and flying over the some of the most geography on earth. We approached Ordos from the west, descending into the shiny new state-of-the-art airport. We received immediate clearance from the tower and we were waved directly to the international arrival customs holding tarmac near a pristine office complex. Rick and I exited the jet, which had resumed its ground appearance as a Lear Jet, the perfect configuration for western capitalists. Dressed in dark gray custom tailored Ravi Bulchandani suits, we looked the part as well.
The quorum of Chinese officials that greeted us spoke in the regional Ordos dialect of Mongolian. All four were from the region, their hooded eyelids and broad flat faces were indigenous characteristics. We all bowed and nodded in the Eastern custom of greeting and finished when I extended my hand in the western custom. The lead officer took my hand as a courtesy. Within seconds I could understand Mongolian like a native and speak it without a western accent. I mentally suggested that it would be impolite and unnecessary to detain us further in hopes of a bribe and the official immediately agreed. I can be very persuasive. When our female companions descended the staircase behind us and joined us on the tarmac, the Chinese official was impressed. The women were dressed in identical light gray suits tailored to accent their feminine features. Both had their hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun and only wore the lightest of makeup. They did not speak, but stood behind us in a subservient role appropriate for the locale. Both were keeping their eyes fixed on the customs officer with his deputy and the two airport police officers who flanked them.

Our arrival was not a surprise. Miss Honeycutt had used some influence to infiltrate the Chinese national security network and imbedded our arrival approval in the routine traffic. At this particular airport, we were among the few flights scheduled to that arrived that day and the only international flight.

“These women are our consorts. They will remain with the aircraft. Please see to their comfort and security.” The local police nodded to indicate that my wishes would be carried out.

As descendants of the Khans, the people of Ordos were strongly rooted to their nomadic warrior ancestors. Once they were the most powerful armies in the world. The Mongol hordes rode out across all Asia from the broad steppes of western China in search of wealth and wives. It was hard-wired into their DNA to be warriors and conquerors. Their descendants were no longer conquerors, but they remained proud soldiers eager for honor. By leaving them as the guardian protectors of my female guests, I had given the officers a task they were bred for. They would screen any unwanted eyes from my prototype aircraft. The two Leftenants would secure the aircraft itself from prying hands. I wouldn’t be taking on any fuel or supplies in China until I was absolutely certain of its safety. I couldn’t risk it. I was in Ordos for the purpose of discovering the identity of the puppet master who had arranged for my kidnapping and infiltrating my personal security by bastardizing my own inventions to work against me. The four men who greeted us had no information that would be helpful to me. I would need to seek answers elsewhere.

Before we could leave the apron, a car pulled up. It was a style and type I wasn’t familiar with. It appeared to be a luxury SUV of some sort, all black with mirrored windows and blackened chrome accents. It looked familiar but not exactly visually pleasing. A Mongolian driver emerged.

“Mr. David, Mr. Cheney, I am Khorloogiyn Choibalsan, your driver and guide. I have been sent to show you around our fair city.”

“Khorloogiyn Choibalsan? Are you any relation to…..?”
“Yes of course. He was my great-grandfather. His son was also known as Khorloogiyn Choibalsan as was his son. I am the fourth of that name. You may call me Kho, if it pleases you. Please, this way.” He indicated the open door at the back of this new vehicle.

As we embarked, I brushed his elbow with my hand and achieved skin on skin contact with his wrist. As Rick and I settled into the luxurious rear seat, I was already accessing the internal workings of our driver, named for the hero of the Chinese revolution but was among the worst butchers in Chinese history. Kho proved he was not so much different from his namesake. Far from being a lowly driver, Kho was a general in the Red Army, having risen in power on both the strength of his name and his ruthless ability to achieve results, no matter the task. Kho was now infected with two types of nanobots, both of my design. His second infection, the one I had just passed to him with a brush of my hand, was neutralizing the first, granting me full control of everything he did with a thought.

“It’s a Bentley,” stated Kho, mistaking my gaze for curiosity. Indeed it was. A pre-production model of the new Bentley SUV. I would have been very impressed but I was otherwise occupied.

It took less me than a moment to activate threat warnings throughout my network. For good measure I activated the US national defenses as well. With a specific thought from me, the entire U.S. global defense network threat level increased to DEFCON 2. As Cheney and I settled in for our ride, priority flash traffic erupted around the globe as all military leaves and furloughs were cancelled. All seaworthy naval ships in port were put into departure mode and would put to sea within six hours. All ships at sea shut down all non-essential communication and all ships in the Pacific, Indian and Arctic Oceans as well as the Mediterranean went to battle stations. Klaxons cried “This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill. Nuclear submarines rose to launch depths at their prescribed stations while around the world, every nuclear asset in our arsenal was switched to prepare-to-launch mode. Ground troops around the world were scrambled and reported to their muster points. Our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan ceased all in-theater operations and withdrew to their designated safe zones. And for good measure, I tasked three separate look down satellites to provide over watch of the compound in Negombo. What I had learned from General Khorloogiyn Choibalsan in those few seconds had frightened me to the point that I was ready to turn around, get airborne and then order a pre-emptive nuclear strike on this empty Chinese city. While we drove from the airport, I was composing email to the Pentagon and to my personal security forces. I used the imminent threat code word “Wounded Knee”. Until the code word reached the eyes of the Secretary of Defense, all responses were automatic. Only the Secretary of Defense could access the Wounded Knee protocols, but he was wise and did not alter the response. The President’s planned visit to Georgia was cancelled and he was immediately taken to Air Force One and would remain airborne for the duration. His family was taken deep below the White House and the Vice President and cabinet were taken to the Farm, where the most hardened bunker in the world would protect them from multiple strikes by nuclear weapons. Once the President was airborne, all of the allies of the United States were also alerted through official channels, but in the few minutes that passed, every intelligence nation on earth that was keeping their eyes on the disposition of US forces had already alerted their bosses. In twenty-two minutes the world went from peaceful to the brink of a nuclear war. The first incoming call made to the President was from the Chinese Ambassador. The President did not accept his call. He was busy trying to call me.

“This is the Library of Ordos,” stated Kho pointing toward a massive arrangement of cylinders that appeared to be falling over, bringing my attention to my present surroundings. “And this is the Treasure Palace,” he said indicating a giant brown blob of a building that looked more like an unbaked cookie than a palace. Even more out of place was the lack of traffic and the lack of pedestrians. Built as home for nearly two million people, less than three thousand had ever taken up residence. Ordos was a massive, glittering ghost town.

“Have you seen anything interesting yet?” whispered Cheney as he leaned in closer to me. Cheney knew that something was definitely wrong. Cheney’s secured cellphone vibrated in his pocket. He looked down at who was calling and then asked me, “Is this your doing?”

“No need to whisper. Kho can’t hear us,” I replied. “Yes it’s my doing. I put the US on DEFCON 2.” He stared at me with trepidation. “Everything we need to see is in the mines,” I assured him. I didn’t tell him more than that. No need to worry him.

“The mines? What mines?”

“I’ll show you. Kho!” The driver turned his head as I released him from his temporary deafness. “Take us to the Hotel Senwei.”

“Of course. We will be there in four minutes.”

We pulled up at a sleek, ultramodern hotel. It was the only place we had seen with any type of activity at all. There were people staffing the long black marble counter, bellmen working the lobby, and valets parking vehicles as they arrived. Kho opened the door and we stepped into the evening air and entered the brass and black main entrance.

“Join us Kho,” I called over my shoulder. My offhand comment was received as an unbreakable order, just as I expected it to be.

“It would be my great honor, Dr. David.” He left the Bentley SUV in the driveway and followed us across the lobby to a bank of elevators.

“If you would be so kind, Kho,” I waved him toward the controls.

“Certainly. What floor?”

“Surprise us,” I replied coolly.

The three of us entered into a gigantic elevator, out of place for a hotel lobby. It was big enough to carry several dozen passengers and their luggage. Or one large vehicle. We descended beneath the hotel.

:”Are we going down?” asked Cheney.

“Yes we are,” replied Kho.

“How far?”

“Down to the factory. Dr. David is most interested in seeing it. Isn’t that true, This link (Dr.David) is not approved. Submit this link for approval?”

“Yes Kho. It is,” I replied.

“Well tickle my ass with a feather,” exhaled Rick Cheney. “I’m surprised.”

When the opulent elevator doors slid open, they revealed a massive complex. It stretched in every direction all around us. Hundreds of workers in pale blue overalls moved around. Some pushing white carts filled with bins, some driving electric trucks carrying white bin carts, some walking without any burden but appearing to be going somewhere urgently. Everyone seemed to be doing something useful and no one gave us a second glance. I didn’t need to infect them to know that every worker was under the influence of the virulent nanobots that had been corrupted from my design.

“The city above is a giant façade, isn’t it?” asked Cheney.

“But of course,” replied General Kho. Otherwise this complex would have been discovered long ago. What better way to hide a power grid the size of Bakersfield, California? All of the power output from the Taishir Dam is diverted to here.”

“What is the purpose of this place?” Cheney continued. The sudden existence of a complex this size scared him. It was his business to know about places like this. What scared him more was that the facility had been built without the knowledge of the Chinese government. That scared me as well.

“It is the training ground for the new Khans. From here we shall launch the attack to take over the world,” boasted General Khorloogiyn Choibalsan. “Instead of riding horses, we will rule by a gentler touch. Don’t you see the purity of our plan, Dr. David? No blood need be spilled at all. Soon all governments will cease to be at war. Kings and pilgrims, princes and paupers all will be content with their lot in life. Strife will be a forgotten memory. We are creating Utopia.” I could see by the glint in his eyes he was a true believer. A zealot. “All ruled by the Great Khan.” I could read his emotion without the neural connection. He was elated by the prospect.

“Who is behind all this?”

“You.” He looked directly at me. “Of course.”

“Me? Don’t be absurd. I am NOT behind all this.” I accessed all of his thoughts, he was telling the truth. He believed I was behind all this. “Show me.”

For the next three hours we toured the complex from the seat of an electric cart, seeing about a fourth of it by my calculation. The space combined all the elements of a mine and manufacturing plant with an incubator and biological growth plant. Nanobots were being created in the billions of trillions. This complex was the birthplace of enough nanobots to infect every living organism on earth millions of times over. None of this made any sense. There were processes and inventions I had only thought of briefly that had been built and perfected and they were operational. Our tour ended abruptly in a cavernous hanger that stretched for miles. So far that we could not see

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THE END