Invasion

The Vault was functional, but surprisingly cosy for a glorified fallout shelter, one that the general British public probably didn’t even know existed. Philippe had read classified briefing papers that warned that London was honey-combed with Cold War bunkers, classified research labs and other surprises, but he’d never been invited into a functional installation before. The cold air helped to sharpen his mind as the civil servant showed him into a simple meeting room. He looked around and smiled in sudden recognition; Ambassador Francis Prachthauser, his former comrade onboard the alien starship, was standing there waiting for him.

“Francis,” he said, in delight. The former Ambassador looked older than he remembered; his country had been torn apart by alien forces. France’s problems had been relatively minor compared to that. “How have you been?”

“I survive, Mr Ambassador,” Francis said, returning the handshake. “I assume that you know Prime Minister Thompson?”

The British Prime Minister had something of the same air as the French President, the sense that no matter what happened, or what orders he gave, the country was going to go through a very bad patch. He was shorter than Philippe remembered, dignified enough to pass for an aristocrat, and yet there was more white in his hair than there had been a year before, when they’d last met.

“Charmed,” Philippe said, as they shook hands. “By the by, it’s Special Representative of the President these days.”

“The same with me,” Francis returned. “The President has had me going around the world and trying to drum up support for the war. It’s not easy, I fear; I wish that Li had survived. The Chinese are in two minds about everything and desperately short of oil. If the aliens offer to help them to recover Taiwan, they might seriously consider joining their side…and I don’t know what the Russians are planning. They’re a riddle wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a mystery.”

”I think that’s a misquote,” Philippe said, more to conceal his own concern than anything else. He’d visited most of the European countries in the past month, trying to keep some semblance of the alliance apart, but the Russians had been completely non-committal. “I’m surprised to see you here, but…damn, it’s good to see you again.”

“We were asked to keep that detail to ourselves,” Thompson said, as he took his own seat. “The Ambassador has a request for us.”

Philippe lifted an eyebrow. “A request?”

“A request,” Francis confirmed. “We are formally requesting your support under the NATO treaty.”

Philippe frowned, inwardly. The NATO treaty had, before the invasion, either been alive or a dead duck, depending on whom you asked. The disputes over Iraq and the War on Terror had hampered French willingness to send forces to join American wars – even though most French politicians had known that they were French wars as well – and, politically, selling any sort of aid to America to the people would be tricky. There were also practical problems as well…

“I understand your request,” he said, finally. He did understand, but how could they help? “You do know that we can’t send an army to America?”

Francis nodded. Even if a fully-prepared and deployable force was ready, even if the Americans would welcome a French force on their soil, even if the shipping and transport capability existed, even if the French Army wasn't required at home…the aliens would still simply sink the transport fleet from orbit. The French Navy was in tatters these days, with almost every major unit sunk from orbit, and there was no way that the remaining combined European forces could provide cover. The aliens would simply wait until the transports were in the mid-Atlantic, sink every one of them, and in doing so, win a free victory. Thousands of soldiers would die without even a hope of taking an enemy soldier with them.

“That’s not what we need,” he said. “I assume that you’ve been following the events in America?”

“Yes,” Philippe said, flatly.

“We have been having some success with shipping in Special Forces and other units into the Red Zone – alien-occupied territory – and using them to harass the aliens,” Francis said. “That’s hardly a secret, but you must understand that almost all of our capability for doing that – mounting strikes against isolated alien units, destroying infrastructure, contaminating electronic systems and so on – is tied up in that war. We had several thousand troops left in Iraq, but most of them were scattered or slaughtered by the aliens when they invaded.”

“A handful did manage to get out,” Thompson injected. “They got to Europe and were shipped to one of the bases here.”

“We need to set the Middle East ablaze, to tie them down,” Francis said. “We’re asking you to concentrate on doing just that.”

“You want us to send supplies to the Middle East?” Philippe asked. “If we do that, most of the supplies will end up being pointed at us instead.”