The Vaults of Heaven (AU)

[Matryoshka]

[pays off private bet]
Huh. I’d expected the with-hold on the security-forces to be purely a matter of optics — nobody in Washington wanted (before now) to create the appearance of wanting to do what this concept is aimed at doing, namely carve a chunk off of Mexico as punishment (well, let’s be candid here: revenge) for its role in the invasion. I should’ve guessed it’d be more complicated, not least because it’s a matter involving Josh Mantell and that always means more layers than a lasagna recipe.

‘People’s Santerist Liberation Force’, huh? Any connection to the narco-outfit down Bolivia-way known as ‘Santa Blanca’, or am I thinking of completely different shades of scumbags?

[jemhouston]

Robert Heinlein had a fondness for Liberians since they allowed civilization to get to the information they needed.

[Poohbah]

[pays off private bet]
Huh. I’d expected the with-hold on the security-forces to be purely a matter of optics — nobody in Washington wanted (before now) to create the appearance of wanting to do what this concept is aimed at doing, namely carve a chunk off of Mexico as punishment (well, let’s be candid here: revenge) for its role in the invasion. I should’ve guessed it’d be more complicated, not least because it’s a matter involving Josh Mantell and that always means more layers than a lasagna recipe.

‘People’s Santerist Liberation Force’, huh? Any connection to the narco-outfit down Bolivia-way known as ‘Santa Blanca’, or am I thinking of completely different shades of scumbags?

I shamelessly stole the name and beliefs from S. M. Stirling's short story, "Roachstompers." (In that story, cold fusion actually works, and oil has gone to fifty cents a barrel. The results are spectacularly awful.)

The US government is realizing that they can't go for a really decisive endgame in Mexico in the near term, because doing so will shatter what's left of Mexican society. Peeling off Baja only works because it's isolated from the mainland. Much beyond that, and all the king's horses and all the king's men ain't gonna put the place back together again.

[Wolfman]

[pays off private bet]
Huh. I’d expected the with-hold on the security-forces to be purely a matter of optics — nobody in Washington wanted (before now) to create the appearance of wanting to do what this concept is aimed at doing, namely carve a chunk off of Mexico as punishment (well, let’s be candid here: revenge) for its role in the invasion. I should’ve guessed it’d be more complicated, not least because it’s a matter involving Josh Mantell and that always means more layers than a lasagna recipe.

‘People’s Santerist Liberation Force’, huh? Any connection to the narco-outfit down Bolivia-way known as ‘Santa Blanca’, or am I thinking of completely different shades of scumbags?

Speaking as someone who washes the dishes resulting from lasagna? I absolutely hate lasagna!

[jemhouston]

I read the last chapter,

And I thank God for that. Voodoo-Marxism? Is this what a society collapsing looks like? Everyone just goes fucking bonkers?

, the movie Forever Purge.

[Poohbah]

12 September 1988
7th Special Reconnaissance Squadron/TF ACHERNAR
Williams AFB, AZ

Major Canyon led a middle-aged woman in civilian attire into Mantell's office. "Hey, Chief, this is Ms. Dorothy Wheeling, she's our new Registered Publications librarian."

Mantell stood up and said, "Welcome aboard, ma'am."

"Oh, please, Chief, you make me sound old."

Canyon laughed. "Chief can't help it, all civilians are ma'am and sir when he's in uniform."

* * *

Mantell tapped on the doorjamb of Ishizake's office. "Got a minute, boss?"

"Sure! Come on in."

Mantell stepped in and closed the door, then sat down. "I noticed you haven't read Ms. Wheeling in on our mission."

"General Lodge's orders. And don't try to argue with him."

"I have no intent of doing so. However, sir, you can let him know that I am willing to bet $100, payable to the Christmas party fund of our respective units, that she figures it out in a week."

"A week?"

"Figure that's how long it takes her to finish organizing and documenting our registered pubs. So, I've drafted up an NDA, just waiting for her to tell me what's what."

* * *

17 September 1988
7th Special Reconnaissance Squadron/TF ACHERNAR
Williams AFB, AZ

"Why, Ms. Wheeling, what brings you in here on a Saturday morning?"

Wheeling closed the door and sat down.

"We're going to get the locals in Baja California to revolt, aren't we?"

Mantell threw back his head and laughed.

"Um . . . what's so funny?"

"We just got a hundred dollar donation to our Christmas party fund from our resource sponsor. I told them you'd figure it out."

"So we are?"

"Yes, indeed. Because, as the old Klingon proverb says, revenge is a dish best served cold. That, and we kinda accidentally got the party started three years ago. What were your biggest clues?"

"I've been cataloging the publications. You're awfully interested in the security forces, not so much military forces . . . and in public infrastructure like water, sewage, and electricity. You want to take out the secret police, and when the revolutionaries succeed, they're going to invite us in. At which point, we're going to have to fix everything. Also, everything to do with Baja, even the books you bought over at B. Dalton's, is in the classified end of the library."

"Got a problem with that?"

"Can you grab Sonora while you're at it?"

"A bridge too far, according to the echelons above us. Baja or nothing."

"Then Baja it is. At least we'll be able to drink margaritas again."

Mantell nodded, then pulled a file out of the middle basket of his in box.

"I just need you to initial the spaces with the blue stickies, and then sign and date at the bottom."

Wheeling did so.

"All right. Now to claim our prize!"

* * *

Josh was dropping some paperwork off with the adjutant when Ishizake stuck his head out of his office and said, "Chief, need you in here for a second."

Mantell entered the office, and Ishizake said, "He's here, sir."

"Good show, Chief. Let the record show I never welsh on a bet. You're right, I should've read her in to begin with."

* * *

14 December 1988
Phoenix, AZ

Mantell stared at the blue envelope.

Contemplated opening it.

Maybe I should wait a week.

The phone rang.

"Mantell speaking."

Major General Samuel Eliot Morison Lodge said, "Open the envelope and read her letter."

Lodge hung up.

Mantell stared at the phone in his hand until the open line buzzer sounded.

He laughed, startling himself.

All right, General, you got me that time. Got me good.

Mantell opened the envelope.

Sireli,

It's been six months since you've learned about my death. I know you grieved a great deal, because I know you are a man of great passion and even greater ability to love.

I have a confession to make.

While I was a TA at Henry, I nudged Adam into asking Sophie out.

My one regret was not nudging you to ask Roberta out. I could tell that you both loved each other.

Josh, during our dinner with Roberta and Helen, I could tell that you still love her, and that she still loves you.

I could also tell that Helen loves you at least as much as Roberta or I do--and you have similar feelings about Helen. (Contrary to what you think, there is nothing at all shameful about loving her. She is a wonderful person.)

You might want, in the absence of any other options (and I do expect you to go looking), to consider approaching them, and telling them that you love them. I suspect their response will surprise you.

But, first and foremost; wrap up your grieving, put on some spiffy duds, head on out into that great big wide world, and begin looking for love again. Don't worry, you'll find it. Just be Joshua Joseph Mantell. (Trust me, he's a really good guy.)

I will love you for all eternity, and when your time comes, I'll be waiting for you.

Love,

Kathy

Mantell reread the letter a few times, then folded it up and put it into the envelope.

He spoke in a whisper, trusting her spirit to hear him.

"I will always love you, Gadarene, sireli. Thank you for choosing to share a few moments with me in this life."

He went to bed, shut off the light, and drifted off to sleep.

[jemhouston]

Good one

Did Kathy foresee her death?

[Poohbah]

Good one

Did Kathy foresee her death?

Yes. She knew her situation was extremely dire, and that survival was unlikely. That's why the first letter was an open code that directed Josh to where she'd archived her RamDyne material.

[jemhouston]

Josh has a habit of knowing people with their acts together, both short and long term.

[Matt Wiser]

Another thing to note: those "advising" the Mexican Security Forces in Baja are not KGB. It's Fidel's DGI at that job. The KGB in Baja are monitoring the Soviet garrison in Mexicali and the Soviet Navy in Baja ports (what little they actually have).

[Wolfman]

That’s somewhat interesting.

[Matt Wiser]

The Soviet term was Osoboist Otedyl (Special Section). A battalion would have a single officer assigned, while a regiment? About 20-30 or so: several officers, the rest NCOs and enlisted (the latter were to form the firing squads if needed). Division would have about 3x that, and corresponding levels at Army and Front. There were KGB informers in every unit from platoon on up as well.

[Poohbah]

16 December 1988
Officer's Club
Williams AFB, AZ

The Christmas party was also a hail and farewell for Jeanna; she was officially back to Sixth Army HQ's G-4 shop on the 19th.

She surprised Josh by handing him her car keys. "I'm designating you the driver to get me and Debs home safely tonight."

* * *

The party had been a success, with much cheer and hope for this to be the last Christmas of the war.

Mantell drove Jeanna's jeep to her house. Debs dozed in the back seat, while Jeanna regarded Josh with an enigmatic smile.

"What?"

She said, "I'm counting my blessings. You've been grieving these past six months, and yet you've been always there for me and Debs when we're down about something. You helped her cope with her parents disowning her . . . me when my nephew got really sick . . . in the middle of your pain, you dropped everything to help us."

"Ever read the Callahan's Cross-Time saloon stories?"

Jeanna shook her head. "Can't say I have."

"Well, the original setting was a bar on Long Island, and it's since been rebooted to Key West. The idea is that this bar routinely was visited by aliens, time travelers, a genuine talking dog, et cetera."

Jeanna nodded.

"Well, one of the quotes that stuck in my head was, 'Shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased; thus do we refute entropy.' Helping you and Debs . . . well, it also helped me. And I owed you guys anyway."

* * *

Debs had been tired--and Josh had opted to head back to the Doubletree, despite the invitation in Jeanna's eyes. She'd understood--and Debs had made him promise a raincheck for the next afternoon.

He found Roberta on his couch--they'd traded spare room keys to in case of TDY or other reasons to be out of pocket.

"Hey, Roberta."

He sat down next to her, and she looked at him carefully.

"Didn't get lucky tonight, eh?"

"Debs was pretty tired, and I decided to just head back. The three of us have a date tomorrow."

"That's what I wanted to talk about." She sighed, then said, "Josh, I think they're both in love with you. Not that I blame them. You're a wonderful man . . . and I still love you. Of course, it doesn't help that Helen's attitude is that, if I really want, I can head over here and scratch that itch."

"Roberta . . . this may sound weird, or even perverse. I slept with Jeanna by herself exactly once."

"When you talked to her about Debs."

"She wanted to express her love for me, for helping her figure it out. And then I was grieving, and I wasn't doing anything. I would never sleep with just one of them now."

Roberta's brow crinkled. "Why?"

"It would be . . . presumptuous. Maybe even improper."

Roberta looked at him for a long moment, then began giggling.

"Dear Lord, my ex-boyfriend has gone from blushing virgin to an ethical slut. He's not going to do anything with a committed couple unless they're both in on it."

Josh thought about it. "Yeah."

"And Helen saying 'have fun, you two' wouldn't be enough."

Josh shook his head. "Nope. And I'm not sure what Helen thinks of me--"

"She told me that the only reason she wouldn't drop her panties for you is if she wasn't wearing any. So, you're telling me that, if I want to bang you, she's got to be part of the package?"

Josh nodded.

"Josh, honey . . . if you're thinking to scare her off, she had her first threesome over at a sorority party at CSU Fullerton while she was a junior in high school, so it isn't going to work. If you're trying to scare me off, I trust both you and Helen. But that's not the reason it's not going to happen tonight--or at any point in the near future."

"Why's that?"

"She wants to wait until we're both out of the Army--and after we've had a doctor remove our Nexplanon implants." Roberta paused, then said, "She wants to bear your children--and I do as well. And, truth be told . . . I'm pretty sure Jeanna and Debs want to do so as well."

Josh felt his anger surge, and he said nothing.

"Josh . . . we don't want you for stud service. We want you to be a father, we want you to help us raise your children, we want to be your wives. And the same goes for Jeanna and Debs, probably. They're down for fun--but they want kids, same as me and Helen, with a good and decent man that they love. You remember how wound up Jeanna got when her nephew got meningitis, right?"

"Yeah."

"And there you were, listening to her talk, and holding her while she cried. I could feel your concern for little Michael. I know you'd make a wonderful father, Josh--not a sperm donor who's never seen again. I know you'd teach your sons to be good, upright, honest men, and take delight in your daughters' growing up to be good women."

"I was kind of raised with the idea of one life, one wife."

"Times change, Josh, and maybe we need to change with them. You see the latest demographic news? Women are going to be something like 55% of our cohort." She smiled. "A few good men--and you, honestly, are a damned good man--are going to have to have multiple partners and sire lots of babies with all of them to keep us from a demographic collapse in 30 years."

Josh considered this. Did the Soviets win, after all? World War II shattered the British Empire for good. World War III might upend a good chunk of American culture with what we had to do to win . . . and what we'll need to do to rebuild.

"Mind blown?"

Josh nodded. "A little."

"Well, think about it." She leaned over and gave Josh a peck on the cheek. "Wherever you go . . . we'll be waiting for you."

* * *

19 December 1988
7th Special Reconnaissance Squadron HQ
Williams AFB, AZ

Josh met his new boss, a Major from Army Special Forces.

"Chief, I'm Major Jorge Sotomayor, just arrived from Fort Bragg, the new theater plans officer. I've looked at what you've gotten done so far, but there's some big pieces missing. I am impressed with what you have gotten done--I imagine the remaining pieces were things you didn't know about."

"Yes, sir."

"All right, let's go over what you've got on those."

* * *

10 January 1989
Los Angeles International AIrport

As they climbed into the Air Force blue staff car, Mantell asked, "Sir, how do you survive staff duty?"

Sotomayor said, "Take time to be with my kids."

"Shit. Don't have any."

"What's bugging you, Mantell?"

"I'm shining the seat of my chair with my ass, and a lot of good kids are dying in their first firefights. Sir."

Sotomayor nodded. "And it's bugging your conscience."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let it work at you. And let's get some tactical training in, insertion to extraction, when we get back so you're ready to go when your time comes."

* * *

Univision Corporate Offices
Century City, CA

On their way to meet the market development team at Univision, they saw a skyscraper with tremendous damage to the upper floors.

Sotomayor asked, "Who'd think that a gang of ruthless terrorists could get into the US, and then accidentally expose the main Soviet spy base on the West Coast by blowing up their Christmas party?"

Mantell looked up at the building, and thought, Accident my dying ass. That deception portion of the plan has MY goddamned fingerprints on it, and Sophie's for everything else. And I am going to have a polite chat with Little Miss Blow Up the Entire Goddamned Fucking Building next time I see her.

"Truth is stranger than fiction, sir; fiction has to make sense."

* * *

Carlos Barajas, director of programming and market development, greeted them politely.

"I understand our cover is that we want to interview Mr. Mantell for a piece on our Sunday news magazine show. Naturally, we are interested in presenting news of the war to Spanish-speaking communities, and we will arrange for this."

Mantell noted with quiet pleasure that he didn't say where those communities were.

"Sir, please be advised that I do not speak Spanish; I do speak some German, which might be of use for audiences in Argentina and Paraguay."

Barajas smirked. "You're not right in the head, chico. I like that."

He then went all business. "So, I understand you're very interested in Univision having a major presence in San Diego and Imperial Counties."

Sotomayor said, "Yes, sir. There may be some opportunity to utilize Channels 6 and 12 in the San Diego area, and Channels 3 and 13 in the Imperial Valley."

"I seem to recall that those channels are in use at this time, by the People's Republic of Mexico."

Sotomayor nodded. "At present."

"So you're saying that may change."

Mantell said, "The military situation being what it is, and the fortunes of war being what they are . . . it's entirely possible, sir."

Barajas nodded. "I understand that secrecy is important in military affairs--it is much the same in business, or any competitive environment. What you keep hidden from the competition may be the difference between success and failure. That said . . . there's something you're not telling me."

Sotomayor said, "Damned straight."

Barajas nodded. "As you may or may not know, San Diego and Imperial Counties are two fairly small markets. There's just not enough business there under the present circumstances to justify the investment of significant resources to building new transmitter sites."

Sotomayor and Mantell looked at each other, and Sotomayor made an "after you" gesture.

Mantell opened his briefcase and hauled out some printouts of newspaper archives. "Now, sir, I seem to recall that your predecessor company had some pretty ambitious plans in both counties during the early 1980s."

Barajas nodded. "We did. But that was then, and this is now. The plan included marketing to south of the . . . "

He paused, then said, "You've got to be shitting me. You're going to invade Baja?"

Mantell said, "Now wait a minute, I didn't say anything about invading. You hear anything about invading, sir?"

Sotomayor said, "Oh, hell no, I didn't. Now, this is admittedly a hypothetical situation at the moment."

Barajas said, "Hypothetical?"

Mantell said, "Hypothetically speaking, there may be hypothetical events in motion--"

Sotomayor said "Hypothetically, of course."

"--toward a hypothetical shift in the hypothetical political, military, economic, and social situation of Baja California."

Barajas said, "Hypothetically speaking, the word 'hypothetical' is hypothetically carrying a lot of the hypothetical weight."

Sotomayor said, "Hypothetically, of course. But that is the nature of war . . . and business, for that matter."

Barajas looked at Mantell. "You seem to know something. I need something."

Mantell said quietly, "Hypothetically speaking, the driving force of any hypothetical future events is south of the border, not north."

Barajas blinked. "Not getting it."

"Which way does commerce flow in Baja, all other factors being equal?"

Barajas considered this, then nodded. "I see. And such a shift would tend to follow natural alignments."

Sotomayor said, "In our survival classes, we learn to work with nature instead of fight it."

Barajas nodded again. "And we Norteamericanos have no love whatsoever for Mexico City, but we wouldn't mind fish tacos and margaritas in Ensenada or Cabo San Lucas. Particularly if the locals are willing to sell them to us without coercion, and it screws over Mexico City."

Mantell nodded.

Barajas asked, "What kind of timeline are we talking about?"

Sotomayor said, "Well, this is more of a crock pot than a microwave."

Barajas said, "And you all understand that even at maximum effort, it will take a while for us to get things ready for this--hypothetical--opportunity."

Mantell nodded, and Barajas smiled.

"I see we understand each other. Now, I suppose you're going to want some say in the programming."

Sotomayor glanced at Mantell, who said, "No more than what's already required for OPSEC purposes, or other requirements of the laws of the United States. After that? Whatever you think will get eyeballs looking at screens--classic movies and TV shows, outrageous talk shows, telenovelas . . . Cal Worthington commercials . . . you're in this business space, not me."

Barajas laughed. "Cal Worthington! You are a native Southern Californian, I see."

"Born and mostly raised in Southern California, sir."

Barajas was quiet for a long moment, then said, "I think you understand more than you let on. You suggested . . . normal things. From before."

Mantell nodded. Before was a magic word to every American.

You never know what you have . . . until you've lost it.

"Showing before in the primary population centers of Baja California would send a powerful message." He looked at Mantell carefully. "How far south do you want the border moved?"

"If I'm the Head Bull Goose Looney? Twelve miles south of Cabo San Lucas. I want the whole damn enchilada, carne asada por favor, with refried beans, guacamole, sour cream, chips and the house salsa fresca, served on a paper plate from a roach coach or the sketchiest-looking taco stand in Chula Vista or Calexico."

Barajas smiled. "And some tamales bought from the trunk of a car?"

"Preach it, sir."

"A man after my own heart."

"Problem is, I'm not the Head Bull Goose Looney. It's up to the people of Baja, not me."

Barajas said, "Word in the expat community is that the entire place from TJ down to Cabo is knee-deep in gasoline, just waiting for the match. And you wouldn't be here if you didn't think that was the case."

Mantell and Sotomayor nodded.

"Do you have a principal in Philadelphia?"

Sotomayor handed over a business card.

Barajas took a look, and set it down on his desk. "I shall arrange a meeting with General Lodge at his convenience."

He came around the desk and extended his hand to Sotomayor. "A pleasure meeting with you, sir." They shook hands.

"And an honor to meet you, Mr. Mantell."

They shook hands, and Mantell could feel Barajas' sense of purpose in his grip.

[Wolfman]

I think that match has been removed from the matchbook or matchbox, but hasn’t been struck yet…

[jemhouston]

Actually, it isn't a match, but a flare gun. You want to be away from it when the fire starts, but close enough to help.

WW3 put the American Melting Pot on 11, and stirred things together better.

Speaking of hot blondes blowing things up, what's USAF Major Samantha Carter doing about now?

[Wolfman]

Actually, it isn't a match, but a flare gun. You want to be away from it when the fire starts, but close enough to help.

WW3 put the American Melting Pot on 11, and stirred things together better.

Speaking of hot blondes blowing things up, what's USAF Major Samantha Carter doing about now?

Who knows?

[Kendog52361]

Speaking of hot blondes blowing things up, what's USAF Major Samantha Carter doing about now?

I don't know why, but I never pictured Sophie Henrix as being blonde. For some reason, I tended to picture her and Adam more as brunettes/brown hair.

[Poohbah]

Speaking of hot blondes blowing things up, what's USAF Major Samantha Carter doing about now?

I don't know why, but I never pictured Sophie Henrix as being blonde. For some reason, I tended to picture her and Adam more as brunettes/brown hair.

Yes. Adam's is a darker brown (those Latin genes), Sophie gets sorta-reddish highlights if she's in the sun long enough.

Roberta is exotically beautiful: auburn hair, green eyes, and lightly olive skin.

[jemhouston]

Speaking of hot blondes blowing things up, what's USAF Major Samantha Carter doing about now?

I don't know why, but I never pictured Sophie Henrix as being blonde. For some reason, I tended to picture her and Adam more as brunettes/brown hair.

Yes. Adam's is a darker brown (those Latin genes), Sophie gets sorta-reddish highlights if she's in the sun long enough.

Roberta is exotically beautiful: auburn hair, green eyes, and lightly olive skin.

Until now, I had when Sophie is happy a Brooke Burns type. She's on the clock Ali Larter.

[Poohbah]

I don't know why, but I never pictured Sophie Henrix as being blonde. For some reason, I tended to picture her and Adam more as brunettes/brown hair.

Yes. Adam's is a darker brown (those Latin genes), Sophie gets sorta-reddish highlights if she's in the sun long enough.

Roberta is exotically beautiful: auburn hair, green eyes, and lightly olive skin.

Until now, I had when Sophie is happy a Brooke Burns type. She's on the clock Ali Larter.

I described her as resembling Rachel McLish when she reported at Nellis. Dark hair and somewhat jacked--but still feminine.