COOKIE vs. NERVOUSPETE TITLE FIGHT
After escalating tensions over the past nine days, African Conglomerate and American Union fleets square off in the mid-Atlantic. African President Mobutu Cookie authorises armed recon flights. When American fighters attempt a show of force to intimidate the recon flight into retreating, several African pilots panic and open fire with amram missiles, downing nine US jets.
The war begins.
A fleet of African battleships steams on a Northern course towards the American fleet, but suffer heavy losses from the combined firepower of two battleship fleets operating under fighter cover. African fighter cover proves tardy, and the battleships take a pounding. Within a day ten capital ships are sunk along with their pickets, for a combined loss of 15,000 men. America exults.
But not for long, though the American fleet are mixing with the African carriers now with some success, land base bomber and fighter cover approaches from the Western seaboard of Africa, and several battleships are lost. Still, the American navy steams south. Harpoon missiles, bombers and destroyer tomohawks sink the African carrier fleet and attendent picket, whilst losing only a few ships. African casualties now number forty thousand. The greatest sea battle in history is almost over. The only scores Africa has chalked up thus far beyond two US carriers and a few destroyers is three nuclear submarines they caught headed south.
President Mobutu Cookie is distraught. With America ruling the waves his entire coastline is fatally exposed to attack. He presses his defence minister for the nuclear option. The codes are presented, the briefcase opened and the command transmitted. Three African submarines in the North Atlantic and land based African bombers fire a dozen nukes into the tight mass of American shipping. The American admirals, incredulous at the nuclear threat bearing down on them, wishfully believing them to be conventional missiles, react too slowly.
At eleven forty-five on the 30th October the IAEA detects a rolling detonation of twelve megatons in the Atlantic ocean. Fifty thousand American naval personal are killed within two hours.
Panic within American cities. Global stockmarket collapses. Non-combatant nations declare armed neutrality and beg the two sides to order an immediate ceasefire. America, horrified at this nuclear escalation, embark on a risky plan to neutralise the early warning systems and damage the first strike capability of Africa by sending a wave of six bombers from the mainland, alongside ten bombers still in the air near the irradiated nautical graveyard of the American fleets. MIRV missiles are fired which burst apart near the target to disgourge 4 smaller 250 kiloton warheads. These hit the target with the brute but now surgical force of a one megaton bomb. One African radar installation is destroyed, along with a missile silo. But the bombers suffer dearly from the rest of the defences. Ten are shot down, the remaining few not already locked in loose their missiles at a few African coast cities housing military ports - their secondary targets - and scoot for home. Only two make it back, whilst two African ports burn.
Enraged, Mobutu orders a complete ICBM strike against America. The world watches in horror as launches are detected up and down the African continent. The sky fills with the contrails of over thirty ICBM's which arc over Greenland. The interceptors housed inside the American silos desperately attempt to stem the onslaught. The question is whether Mobutu is after military targets or the cities.
He is after the cities. Boston lights up first, followed by New York, Chicago, Philadelphia. In one night thirty million Americans perish. A bomber wave follows, but American fighters blunt the attack, and only a few more cities are scorched.
Now is the time for the counterattack, while the silos are finishing their launch patterns and are vulnerable. President Peter 'Nervous' Regan fires back with a mass launch of every bomber than can fly. They rumble over the burning cities of the Eastern seaboard, weaving between the rising mushroom clouds. Occasionally bomber pilots quickly draw the blinds as nearby nuclear strikes threaten to burn their retinas. Two hours later they approach the African coast over Libya and Chad. At the same time, ignoring the remaining few nukes inbound, President Peter Regan launches ICBMs from all his nuclear silos, targeting all cities barring some of the extreme southerly areas. As the missiles are still midway over the Atlantic, the bombers begin their attack. But they have ill luck. They take out a few cities, but by now the African silos have switched back to AA defence and they take a terrible toll on the attackers, who stream in single file like ducks to the slaughter.
Mobutu, still unaware of the scope of the ICMB threat facing him, grins at the success of his defence. But with the radar in Tunisia gone he has no idea that overhead ICBM's are entering his airspace. He devotes his time to ordering a fresh bomber offensive against the Southern states. Having given his orders, he is suddenly horrified by the scream of a klaxon and a massive projection appearing on his bunker screens. ICBM's have entered his radar space, and though his silos are accounting for a quarter of the incoming ordnance, too many are getting through. Worst yet, submarine fleet launches are detected off Madagascar. He looks to his strike against the Southern states. Atlanta and Mobile burn, but fighters took too many bombers down. He decides to play his last hand.
President Peter Regan, feeling assured that in the general battle the few submarine kill confirmations he notched up represented their entire fleet, feels confident that his nuclear nightmare is over. He is wrong. ICBM's thrust out of the sea and to his horror take out the Mid West. He scrambles bombers and fighters, and the subs are quickly sunk, but now only the East coast of America remains untouched. It is to his cold relief then, that at this very moment the combined missiles of his ICBM launch and his nine submarine fleet destroy in five hours the proud African nation, leaving only one city in Madagascar intact.
The great burn has ended with the lives of over six hundred million dead or dying, three quarters African, including Mobutu Cookie and his staff, who perished when their bunker was hit, before they even got to see their submarines complete their strike. Victorious, President Peter Regan slips the Glenn Campbell Witcheta Lineman '45 from its sleeve and listens to the beautiful crooning tale of a Mid West powerline repairman. Then he puts a gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger.
WAR! HURGH! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR?
Defcon fun, that's what.
CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, MALIA!
_________________ "Peter you've lost the NEWS!"
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