Shock and Awe

The following takes place following: The Ultimatum

After Travers' ultimatum, the nation was thrown into a frenzy. Commentators were divided—some worried that Travers had completely lost his mind, while others speculated it was a miscalculated bluff. As Waldonia held its breath, the 72-hour deadline came and went.

Almost five hours after the deadline, Travers paced around the war room, furious that his ultimatum had been ignored. The generals were once again hoping to get him to send in the army.

At exactly 77 hours after the ultimatum, they received a transmission. Warlord Waldo responded with a defiant communication broadcast from his recently claimed office in Waldron, using Mayor Grayson’s computer. Dressed like a Latin American dictator—complete with military garb, aviators and an oversized sash—Waldo delivered his taunting message:

wF: “Hello people! This is Warlord Waldo speaking. Not only is we still here, but we gots the internets now, hahaha. We knew you were all talk, Travers man! Can’t even bomb Wiffuhuh… No wonder you never even finished goblin school. You sure ain’t got the minerals! Ha ha… Can’t touch Wiffuhuh, no doubt!! Well, wesa has a grand army. Who knows? Maybe we take Widdlington next?

Well, if you’ll excuse us, we has a wedding to plan. Wiffuhuh is marrying the mayor, uh huh, that’s right! You’re welcome to come along if you say sorry to Wiffuhuh and accept us as rightful ruler of Waldonia. After all, it’s our name up there next to the peppersteak, and don’t you forget it, moustache man! Ha ha ha. Well… goodbye!”

The President seethes in fury following the broadcast.

Travers: “Please tell me that was only us that saw that…”

Advisor Mallory: “I’m afraid it was broadcast online for everyone to see, Mr. President.”

Travers: “This… is out of turn…”

General Baxton: “It was a bold play, Mr. President, but we can’t afford to wait any longer. It’s time to send the army in. We’ve let this drag on long enough.”

The President spins to face him, his face flushed with frustration.

Travers: “No! I told you before! I’m not going to send troops to die needlessly. It’s gonna be a bloodbath…”

Master Devlin: “Well you can’t do nothing. You should’ve known better than to try to bluff Widdle Frunkut. He’s making you look like a damn fool.”

Travers: “Who said I was bluffing?”

Master Devlin: “WHAT?”

He turns, eyes flashing with a hint of madness.

Travers: “I said he had 72 hours to get the hell out… I didn’t say when I’d drop the bomb…”

General Baxton: “With all due respect, Mr. President, you can’t seriously be suggesting we actually go through with it?”

Travers: “Master Devlin’s tone may be out of turn, but he’s got a point. I’m going to look like an asshole if I don’t follow through…”

The Master throws his hands up in exasperation.

Master Devlin: “For fuck’s sake, Travers, that wasn’t my point at all! I was against the nuke idea from the start!”

Travers: “No… no, you’re right. I said I’d use it, so I guess I’ll have to… Deploy the Clean Sweep.”

Master Devlin: “Good God… Travers, you’ve lost your mind… again! We’re talking about using a nuclear bomb on Waldonian soil.”

Travers: “I understand exactly what I’m doing, Master Devlin… What’s the latest intel on the distribution of their forces?”

Slade: “Intelligence suggests about 7,000 skunkbreed warriors, all armed with 5.56s, stationed at the fortress south of the forest.”

Travers: “So most of the insurrectionists are there right now? At this ‘Waldclaw Haven’?”

Slade: “Yes sir, we estimate between 70–85% of Waldclaw forces are stationed there.”

General Holt: “We believe there are only a few dozen militants left in Waldhaven and Waldron, though we also suspect there are some hidden in the forest. A few dozen cows… a handful of technicals.”

Travers: “What about the Hind-D?”

General Holt: “Currently grounded, at the fortress…”

Travers: “The timing is perfect… We may not get another opportunity like this. We can wipe the vast majority of them out in one fell swoop…”

General Baxton: “Mr. President, while I admit this is tactically appealing and could minimise our losses, I must urge caution. Master Devlin is right. This is a very dark path. I’d strongly advise you reconsider using conventional forces…”

The President spins round and points a clawed finger at the General.

Travers: “Why, General? So instead we can have a long and bloody war instead? A chance for you to relive your glory days from behind the comfort of a desk? Perhaps make your friends some money off munitions contracts…”

The General goes quiet, visibly stung by the accusation.

Travers: “Anyone else have any objections?”

POW turns to the Secretary of Homeland Security.

Travers: “How about you? What do you think, Mr. Raymond?”

Raymond, with a heavy cockney accent and a no-nonsense demeanor, gives a sharp nod.

Mr Raymond: “I fink you should blow those silly fucks to kingdom come, guv. No half measures…”

Travers: “Thank you, Mr Raymond. Finally a man of action, after my own heart… So here’s what we’re gonna do… First, shock and awe. We drop the nuke, obliterate that outpost. Then, we send in Special Forces. They’ll go in hard and fast, clean up any remaining insurgents in each town… Sound good?”

The generals and advisors look at each other awkwardly.

General Holt: “Um… yes, Mr President…”

Travers: “Good. Then you have a go…”

****

A few hours later…

The afternoon sun hangs over Waldclaw Haven fortress, a crude yet imposing mass of wood, concrete, scrap metal and stolen construction equipment welded into something vaguely castle-shaped. Armoured cows lumber across the courtyard while Skunkbreed warriors patrol the battlements, bantering in their usual slushing and clicking language as they prepare for their next conquest.

One Skunkbreed guard leans over the edge of the main tower, bored out of his mind, when something catches his eye — a dark silhouette high up in the sky, moving fast.

Far above, the Waldonian airship’s bomb bay doors creak open. The Clean Sweep sits waiting, humming faintly. With a metallic chunk, the bomb drops.

Back on the tower, the guard’s ears shoot straight up as he spots the object falling toward them. He lets out a startled squawk, alerting the others. They all stare upward for a single, frozen moment.

Then a white light engulfs them.

The heatwave follows a heartbeat later — their eyes liquefy, their fur ignites, and the shockwave obliterates them instantly. Armoured cows are flung skyward like flaming bowling balls. The fortress shatters into dust and incandescent debris as the blast flattens the entire southern edge of Warwyck Forst.

Miles away, atop the Widdlington Citadel, President Travers watches through his designer goggles as the mushroom cloud rises. Everyone behind him stands frozen in horrified silence.

Travers: “…Beautiful.”

****

A short time later, the First Lady stands in the Waldhouse War Room, her pale, porcelain hands gripping the edge of the conference table. The screen flickers with replay footage of the nuclear blast. Her crimson lips purse, and her unnaturally sharp eyes dart over the destruction with a mix of fascination and restrained hunger.

The doors swing open, and President Travers enters, flanked by his advisers, strutting like a conqueror returning from battle.

Travers: "Honey, I'm home! Now how was that for action?"

Adviser Mallory: "We can confirm the fortress has been completely obliterated, Mr President..."

With her vampiric speed, the First Lady crosses the room in one fluid, predatory motion, grabs him, lifting the little goblin off the ground, and plants a deep, passionate kiss on him. Travers’ moustache twitches with delight.

Fiona: "That was... the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen..."

Travers: "That was just the warm up. Now we take back Waldron... General. Tell the special forces guys they have a go..."

General Holt gives a nod, still suffering from shock as he stares at the mushroom cloud rising over Waldonia on the main screen.

The Master interrupts Fiona as she's smooching Travers. His face is grim.

Travers: "You're awfully quiet, Master Devlin."

Master Devlin: "I'd like a word in private..."

Travers gives Fiona a nod and she steps away and turns her attention back to the main screen.

Master Devlin: "Travers, I’ve stood by you through all kinds of crazy bullshit... But this time, you’ve gone too far! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Travers: "Absolutely. I’ve taken decisive and uncompromising measures to guarantee the security and safety of this nation."

Master Devlin: "Safety? You just dropped a nuclear bomb on our own soil! This is madness!"

Travers: "Exactly. That’s precisely what I want our enemies to think."

Master Devlin: "What enemies?"

Travers: "Other nations! The British, for starters. You don’t think they’re just waiting for an excuse to take back their precious ‘Waldoshire’? They’ve never respected our sovereignty. And the French? Don't get me started on the French..."

Devlin raises an eyebrow, baffled at the leap in logic.

Travers: "Not only has Travers decimated the Waldclaw insurrection, but he’s just shown the world he’s willing to nuke his own land to deal with them. Imagine what he’d do to any hostile foreign power trying to mess with him. Can’t you see it? It’s brilliant. No one will dare challenge Travers now! He's a mad goblin man!"

Master Devlin: "All I see is a giant mushroom cloud a few miles away. Do you have any idea what kind of damage that will do to the environment?"

Travers: "We've been over this. There's not going to be any fallout..."

Master Devlin: "Of course there will be... The idea of a 'clean nuke' is preposterous..."

Travers: "Yeah, well, that's your opinion, man... The science nerds say otherwise. Don't you trust the science?"

Master Devlin: "It was just theoretical. It’s never been tested! What if we're wrong and there's a huge cloud of radioactivity blowing across the land?"

Travers: "Whatever. The wind is blowing southwest. Most of the southwest of Waldonia is uninhabited... Worst case scenario, a little fallout drifts towards Birmingham. Nothing of value lost."

Master Devlin: "And if the wind changes?"

Travers: "It won’t."

Master Devlin: "How can you know that for sure??"

Travers: "Because, Master Devlin, we have the Editor on our side. The only way it would change is if the Co-Editor got all vindictive. And even then, I believe Ed would have our backs."

Devlin sighs heavily, shaking his head.

Master Devlin: "Well... it’s done now. I hope you’re right."

Travers: "Of course I am. Now, let’s watch the special forces do their thing. I’m looking forward to it. They’re real tough hombres."

Behind them, the live feed of the strike team’s advance continues. Rock ‘n’ roll music can be heard coming from the feed of one of the strike team’s aircraft, echoing faintly in the now-empty room.

The Waldoverse continues in Clean Sweep