There were none.

“Twenty-four hours before our arrival, our entire fleet of 35 commercial aircraft will fly 20,000 Red Army troops into New York. These troops are to take control of the airports, the entire area between the three airports and then the harbor area to protect our entrance from any American forces still hiding in the New York area. Our flotilla of five naval and five container ships will reach and grandly enter New York Harbor. Gentlemen, great news, we will be sailing through the Panama Canal, which has been captured and is currently fully operational and guarded by our forces. Again, any questions?”

Again, there were none.

“One week after we have captured New York, our second armada of five container ships will leave Shanghai Harbor and take seven days to sail to Los Angeles. Before they arrive, the same engineers will be flown across America from New York to Los Angeles to set up the airports and harbor area there. Everything is working according to plan, and we have ten days to take control of the East Coast before our invasion of the West Coast begins. We will reside on our new aircraft carrier, and she will be protected by our two attack cruisers and two destroyers. We will not be backed up by submarines, as had been planned. Unfortunately, our own government purchased the submarine satellite-communications electronic parts we produced for the rest of the world without our knowledge, and the entire Chinese fleet of submarines is now useless. They, unfortunately, were too stupid to listen to our warnings. We have tested our six warships, our fleet of ten container ships, the 30 747s, and the five Airbuses, and they are all fully operational.” He sat down.

After the meeting ended, Comrade Wang was in the communications room trying to raise his new squad leader in North Carolina. He had already spoken to the commander of the 50 termination squads currently in Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas, and they were getting ready to move east. He could not get hold of the new man, and his sixth sense was eating at him as the engineer was finally successful and got a very bad connection.

“Is that you, Bo Lee Tang?” the engineer called over the radio telephone in front of him.

“I can’t hear you well, we have a bad connection. This is Bo Lee Tang,” said the faint voice on the other side. “We are burying our comrades.”

“Tell him to hurry up and get to the Raleigh airport,” Comrade Wang told the engineer in front of him. “Tell him he has Comrade Deng’s 50 squads coming in. They should be there in two days.” The message was relayed.

“We need many squads?” asked the man at the other end.

“Fifty squads are coming, and Comrade Deng will take command when he gets there, Bo Lee Tang,” stated Comrade Wang, taking over the microphone from the engineer. “Once Comrade Deng has destroyed the Raleigh airport, you are all to go north. I have told Deng that he will take you with him. You need to be at the airport and harbor area within one week to prepare for our arrival.”

“At which harbor do you want my men? I can’t hear you well. What happens if I don’t see Comrade Deng?” the voice asked.

“Something is not right, Bo Lee Tang. You should know the operation,” Wang said, worried.

“My dead commander did not tell us anything,” was the reply. “We left the north, came south, he did not tell us anything, and now I am commander.”

Comrade Wang was worried. He could understand a need-to-know basis and he racked his brains to remember what the men in the termination squads were actually told. It was quite normal that the men knew very little and he now needed to check to see if he was talking to the man he knew—after all, he had recruited him all those years ago. In those days Bo Lee Tang was a good boxer and Mo Wang had won a good amount of money on his achievements in Shanghai.

“Bo Lee Tang, what do you have on your shoulder?” asked Wang.

“A tattoo” was the reply.

“What is the tattoo?’ Wang asked.

“You know, Comrade. A bottle of Jack Daniel’s. You often must have seen it when I was boxing in Shanghai.”

“Of course, Comrade Bo. I needed to check because your voice is not the voice I remember,” continued Mo Wang.

“I have a small injury to my face and a bandage on my face. I have a small piece of metal in my cheek, have lost a little blood, and I can’t talk too good.” The telephone crackled back at Wang. This seemed to satisfy most of his worries. Of course! Bo could have been injured.

“Your orders, Bo Lee, are to destroy the Raleigh airport with Deng. Then go north to your original position. We have engineers and troops flying in on two aircraft tomorrow night to reconstruct the three airports and harbor before our aircraft and ship arrivals. You are to report to our troops at the biggest airport. You need to be there in one week. It will be under our control. I will be there several days after you arrive, and I will communicate to you and Deng once you get to New York, not before. Good Luck!” said Wang, still feeling in his hollow and empty stomach that something was wrong.

*****

Carlos and Lee had been working hard since they had received the equipment from the dead Chinese. They had studied each piece and found all the equipment to be simple satellite communication electronics. Thousands of Americans had the same quality two-way systems with Hughes Internet. The only difference was that both sides could verbally chat to each other.

“Lee, I think we are ready for communication,” said Carlos to a worried-looking Lee Wang. “Remember to keep the cloth of the towel over the phone. It will hide most of your voice tone. Tell them that a platoon of 30 military troops killed your commander and many of the others. Ask for orders. Remember to state that you are in control. You can be nervous; you haven’t been a commander and you are only told stuff on a need-to-know basis. Remember, there were 30 troops, 20-odd pilots with guns, a lot of small airplanes. Other than that, buddy, just wing it. You need to get information from whoever is at the other end. Don’t be scared to ask and act stupid, Lee. It always works.”

They turned on one telephone and waited. It wasn’t 30 seconds before the phone rang—a sound they hadn’t heard in days! Lee Wang made sure that the cloth was covering the mouthpiece and he looked at Carlos. Carlos smiled, gave him the thumbs up, and Lee Wang answered the call.

“Control, this is Bo Lee Tang. Mi Lee is dead. This is Bo Lee Tang, Mi Lee’s Number Two in command,” answered Lee Wang. There was silence at the other end.

“Bo Lee Tang, you said your commander is dead?”

“Correct, Control. It was a bad fight but we won,” Lee Wang continued. Then he heard a voice he recognized from his days in China. It was the floor sweeper—the man who had recruited him. He looked up at Carlos, who was dialing another number on the second phone. Then Carlos remembered that he was holding a telephone and not a radio, and his brain suddenly clicked into gear. Anybody could use the system, and he wondered if the control center in China would notice a second phone being used at the same time. He scrambled through the pile of phone components and found one with a number written on the backside so that the owner wouldn’t forget it. He then found a second one and saw Lee looking at him. Carlos told him to keep going, but Carlos could see that Lee Wang was in shock for some reason. Then Carlos heard a voice on the other end fire off in rapid Chinese.

“Bo Lee Tang, this is Comrade Mo. Get one of the other commanders on the telephone to give me a full report.” Lee Wang looked at Carlos and his face told Carlos that he knew the man on the other end. Carlos whispered for him not to worry, that the cloth should hide his voice. “All commanders are dead. We have 23 dead men, Comrade Wang,” Lee Wang replied nervously.