Able Archer

by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Copyright 2014 Jimmy Boom Semtex. All rights reserved. 

Only a single paragraph maybe reproduced for reviewing purposes. In any article list Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.

ISBN: 978-1-291-92001-7

Cover artwork kindly used by permission of by Darrol Vincent Bowlzer. See more of Darrol's work on Deviant Art under the name of Hathorian (www.hathorian.deviantart.com).

Dedidated to the Cold War. I miss you my dear. Welcome back.

Once upon a time in a wicked land run by two equally vicious power blocks there lived two nice black pussycats called Able and Archer. Both lived on nuclear missile bases being fed by active duty service personnel who served their respective countries in this wicked vicious world of half hidden nightmares and Cold War surrealism. Would both pussies get fried if it turned into a hot war?

Able was a black gothic medium long hair pussycat, aged five years. She lived at Greenham Common, a cruise missile base equipped with GLCMs - Gliccams - Ground Launched Cruise Missiles. These were amongst the West's new mushroom producing weapons that included the Pershing 2 IRBM (Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile) and the stunning MX Peacekeeper ICBM (Inter Continental Ballistic Missile). Backing these weapons up were the ALCM (Air Launched Cruise Missile) similar to the Gliccam but launched from aircraft like the B-52 bomber. Sub based Trident D5 SLBM (Submarine Launched Ballistic Missile) in nuclear missile boats like the Ohio submarines.

Soviet/Warsaw Pact forces faced off American/NATO nuclear and conventional forces. They had new nuclear weapons like the IRBM class SS20 missile and AS15 Kelt ALCM. Their pussycat was called Archer, he was also a black pussycat fed well living on a missile base at Vostock in East Germany. Many other Soviet/Warsaw Pact weapons were being built and deployed but they were secret and not much was known about them other than they would kill millions of people and western pussycats like Able. Missiles fired from the West would kill millions more in the East along with their feline furry friends. For now peace reigned AND it would soon be over, something terribly bad was in the making so the future for pussycats and their people owners didn’t look too rosy.

***

It all started when Able, the pussycat at the Greenham Common base, was chasing a mouse for some fun; this mouse was brown in colour and Able believed this small brown mouse was a spy and a communist sympathiser after the secrets of the base. So Able had to stop the mouse at all costs and by any means possible. A chase developed under the barbed razor wire, over the closely cut grass past armed American guards with loaded machine guns with safety catches off, onto the tarmac roadway which led to part of the missiles storage area. This was one quick smart mouse dodging this way and that, avoiding a NATO pussycat that pounced six times after this rogue mouse and missed. Was it the first of many? Over by the nuclear warhead storage igloo – a structure made of steel reinforced concrete topped off by earth and grass, the chase continued. The mouse had chosen this one carefully; the heavy steel door was open due to the maintenance crew doing weekly checks on the warhead for any problems. Had the mouse been told of this so it could gain access and steal the secrets for the enemy, the War Pac forces?

With a loud meow Able ran a metre behind the speedy mouse that shot into the small gap in the door in the storage bunker, gaining entry to the most secret part of the British Isles. Stopping on the middle of the floor to observe and take in its bearings, the mouse darted to the nearest warhead that was stored in a large yellow lead flask with danger and radiation signs and labels plastered all over it. The cat was on its tail like a guided missile to stop this intrusion, pouncing one last time in his only chance to stop spying and subterfuge, Able jumped on the mouse. He did it! The mouse gave one last squeak and died as a paw was planted on its back and teeth snapped, biting the mouse to end its short life of spying.

Looking up in alarm, the distracted maintenance crew laughed when they saw it was only their friendly cat Able chasing and catching a mouse. He had to earn his supper the hard way, live mice and tit bits from the maintenance and base personnel. They wouldn’t give him a tit bit this time because he had the mouse to nibble on. Did the maintenance men know that Able had stopped a Soviet mouse spying on their secret nuclear weapons? After all this was a war, not just some highly dangerous game.

When the Soviet mouse didn’t report back to Mouse Headquarters alarm bells rang, something was very wrong, for a NATO cat must have compromised him. So more mice were sent out to gain the important information, how many pussycats guarded how many warheads at Greenham Common?

In the cats head the conversation he would have with the communist spun out, the theory after the practical. “Mouse what are you doing? Tell me! I know you’re an enemy agent up to no good,” hissed the cat.

“What makes you sure I’ll ever tell you? Come, come and join us in the East. We need pussycats like you to defeat the evil capitalists,” squeaked the brown mouse, whose shifty eyes took in everything. Silence.

“Enough! I've killed the mouse, for now we are safe and no threat hinders us, for now.” After sorting the intruding mouse out Able went back prowling the grounds always alert ready for anything. He saw the maintenance men close the door to the missile bunker.

One of them spotted him and shouted, “Hey Able, good work with the mouse! We can’t have it stealing our warheads. Here's a tit bit,” he threw a half eaten sandwich over to the black cat that was the saviour of democracy. With a meow Able pounced and ate the ham and cheese in one go. Perks of the job.

***

Able had an opposite number, a fellow black cat who was an exact opposite in each and every way. He was the guardian of similar weapons that belonged to his masters who had a different belief, communism. A direct challenge from the East to the capitalist West, he was called Archer. Archer was a very pernicious cat full of moods, ranging from petulant to downright angry. He always expected to get his own way but one time soon he wouldn’t, with bad consequences for all involved. What would the end result be? He didn’t know as he guarded an SS20 missile site. He’d already caught three NATO mice over a two-day period. Not a single secret had been stolen. It looked like NATO was planning something against the East but what – a recon or full-scale war? Archer had to find out, not a single cornered captured mouse had spilled the beans, all died in silence and then he had eaten their still warm corpses. A scant meal considering what was hanging overhead.

“Comrade cat Archer good work with the vermin mice. Here's a dish of our finest vodka,” congratulated a soldier of the Nuclear Missile Troops. Archer wasn’t as posh a pussycat as her Western counterpart Able. His coat was at best functional, none of the high glossy sheen nor brushed daily nor was she fed tuna fish twice per week nor allowed to sleep in the Enlisted Airman's mess when the weather was bad. No, Archer slept under a TEL (Transporter Erector Launcher) that transported the deadly state of the art SS20 missiles. That was her home in early/mid November 1983 in a time when our world came close to World War3. Not since the Cuban Missile Crisis had the world been pushed to the edge, it was all a matter of pussycats catching mice.

Archer the black communist pussycat was wondering when war would come. What form would it take? NATO could only send over so many recon mice to filch our secrets. When would the mice stop and missiles and bombs fall? Of course, we wouldn’t start the Third World War because we're the good guys who want to co-exist and be left alone. We'd have to catch an enemy mouse and make him talk but how do we do that? Every mouse that crossed the wire was spotted and caught, not one talked. That had to change. Almost silent rumours circulated of one of our Soviet spy mice being caught and talking, was it true? If so the communist ideal was under threat by the capitalist mice spies and guard pussycats. What were our leaders going to do about it?

***

Meanwhile, back in the land of the free Able enjoyed a nice peanut butter sandwich off a soldier for catching another enemy mouse. Crunchie nut, mmm my favourite! Soon the countdown to war would begin, pussycats, mice and nuclear bombs, oh and people! It’s the felines who control the world; they’re in charge of the people who’re in charge of the bombs. One big illusion perpetuated by cats to trick people to think they’re in control, a sign of genius and daring that not even people knew of. When war came, the world of men would believe they caused it. In effect, it was the mice that did it. Cats tried to stop it and maintain the status quo. Mice sent by cats.

All previous Warsaw Pact mouse intrusions had been a test, probing and trying out the defences. To gain any secrets would be a bonus. The main mouse thrust came on the cold autumn morning of November 11 1983. Two hundred thousand mice stormed over the borders of East/West Berlin and East/West Germany, breaching the wire, the wall, the gun defences, landmines and listening devices with ease. They invaded West Germany! Such defences were only capable of stopping humans on foot or in vehicles; they were useless against small animals like communist mice! The call went out, “War Pac mice were attacking!” West Berlin fell immediately after a mad fight.

NATO only had fifty thousand mice to send the other way, into East Germany. As soon as possible, allied mice were scrambled and sent the other way to take out targets in the East. Pussycats like Able were directing the battle from Britain. How long would he be safe here was anyone’s guess, if any of the mice breached the base perimeter, a real battle would kick off. Like what was occurring in Germany and Western Europe. Tens of thousands of other enemy mice invaded Holland, Denmark, France, Scandinavia and every other allied country. By comparison, hardly any damage was done in Eastern Europe or Russia/Soviet Union.

***

“Yes, the battle is going to plan,” whispered Archer, his short unkempt fair standing up. NATO mice are attempting to attack but their numbers are too small. We have numerical superiority and the advantage of surprise. Soon all of Western Europe will be under the communist boot and then we can take over Britain and finally the world! Stopping American dominance over the western sphere of influence, Soviet dominance would be complete over NATO/Western pussycats and their territory.

“That’s right Comrade Archer, our mice foot soldiers are advancing full rate on all fronts. Soon they will add and consolidate more enemy territory,” replied a mangy white cat with stained coat. He was Archer’s military information minister. Like all other white cats, he was deaf but an expert lip reader. “We have taken West Berlin after serious opposition.”

“Good. What is the status of any enemy pussycats we have captured?” asked Archer, grimacing. He knew the answer.

“We captured five enemy pussycats belonging to NATO. Every single one fought like a cornered lion, we overwhelmed them and are trying to get them to talk. It isn’t easy,” meowed the minister, frowning.

“Yes... I know how stubborn the enemy cats are. It’ll be unfortunate to say the least if they don’t crack under torture,” replied the leader. Archer was known to be ruthless; it was time to back that fact up.

“What do you suggest we do to get them to talk?” enquired the minister. A sadistic gleam shone in his eyes.

“I will attend the interrogation myself and question one of them. If he refuses, I will make an example of him to the others. They’ll soon talk then,” commented the boss.

***

Able was in a panic. We’re losing the battle! Enemy Warsaw Pact mice are overwhelming our defences and taking our positions in wave after wave of attacks. How can this be possible?

“I share your concern Able, I really do,” soothed a golden long haired pussycat, called Sabre. He was Able’s military adviser and tactical co-ordinator. And more.

“What options do we have? How can we win this battle?” Able asked, quietly thinking what options were in the cat tray. Not many.

“Our options are as follows: Option 1. We can send more mice to attack enemy supply lines. By taking out enemy cheese factories the mice won’t have any food. This option would work over the long term but we don’t have the luxury of time nor the numbers of mice to successfully do this. Option 2. Capture as many enemy mice as possible, brainwash them and send them back as double agents to attack their former masters. This plan depends on whether we can capture enough enemy mice alive, then brainwash them completely so they’re our slaves and follow our orders completely. Option 3. This is the most serious one with the most risks. Put simply, we trick our human masters to launch a nuclear strike on the enemy. This will destroy their Command and Control ability, which in turn will paralyse their front line attacking mice. What mice are left at the front and behind our lines, we can deal with because they won’t be reinforced or resupplied with cheese due to the humans launching their nuclear weapons. Risks associated with this plan are obvious. A limited nuclear strike by us, on them maybe not enough to stall their initial attack. Also, a limited nuclear attack by us can quickly escalate to a full nuclear exchange. Everyone loses then and no humans will be left to get tit bits from. Those are your options Able,” explained Sabre, purring like the top cat he was.

He trotted over to a bowl of fresh cream and lapped it up noisily, while Able thought through his list of options. Each option is fraught with difficulty and danger. The first two would be good to use if we had more time, if the enemy had launched probing attacks or a limited strength assault of mice upon us. We neither have the time nor capability to do those now. This leaves us with the final option, a nuclear release. A full release of weapons is desirable. This will fully destroy every enemy position, along with pussycats and their mice foot soldiers. Of course, there will be a powerful enemy response of equal proportions. We can live without tit bits of tuna fish when our masters’ bases, weapons and population centres are destroyed. We will rule the world then.

“We go with Option 3. Inform all of our pussycats at our allied military bases that NATO must launch a full nuclear attack against the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact forces. Every weapon, both conventional and nuclear, is to be launched in massive defensive first strike. Everything. We must trick our human masters’ into launching their weapons. That is my decision Sabre,” Able decided. That was it then; enemy mice attacking on a broad front had decided the issue and response.

“Okay then Able, your decision is made. I won’t try to change your mind, we both fully understand the gravity of the situation and how important our decision to respond is. I’ll pass on your orders to the forward bases. Some have already been overrun by enemy mice. Those will have to be immediately destroyed to stop them being used by our enemy. We can launch our missiles from here too,” purred Sabre, delighted that nuclear weapons were to be used. I’ll miss tuna fish butty tit bits and bowls of fresh cream but we can be leaders of the world! NATO pussycats can be in control of everything once humans have been wiped out, followed by enemy communist pussycats and mice! We will be masters of everything; we can start again and have lots of kittens. In time our world will be populated by cats, with no humans getting in the way. We can sit out the radiation in the bunker and then emerge to repopulate the world and make a fresh start, making a world which belongs to felines.

***

Archer clawed the NATO pussycat prisoner. His claws left deep cuts upon the brow of the enemy cat, whose brown coat was bloody and dishevelled. “Tell me the arming codes for your nuclear weapons. Tell me now!” hissed Archer. He clawed his captive again, this time upon his side.

“No, never!” replied the NATO pussycat, puffing out his chest.

“You will talk! The codes. And how many mice do you have left? We have killed over three quarters of your attack force. Soon the rest will be dead or captured. How many more do you have in reserve? Tell me!” hissed Archer, biting his enemy on his ear. Half of the ear was torn loose, left hanging by a flap of bloody skin. The prisoner cowered now, his defiance over. He was held by two scruffy “hard bastard” Special Forces cats who belonged to SPETSNAZ, the Soviet secret commando force who could do any job. This included making sure prisoners never escaped.

“Will you talk?” asked his interrogator, pleasantly this time. “You could even join us, we need pussycats like you. You could work for us; this would be of benefit to you. What do you say?” Of course, all benefits would be solely with the communists.

“Fuck you, you commie bastard! I’m a NATO pussycat who will never talk!” responded the prisoner. In a quick move, he broke free of one of his jailers and lashed out with a paw. He only got one chance and made sure he didn’t miss.

Archer was caught in the left eye by the paw swipe. His eye was ripped out of its socket and dragged free by the violence of the act. Snapping free of its optic nerve, it rolled over the floor to stare lifelessly up towards the heavens, as if asking for forgiveness for the violence now engulfing Europe. It was too late.

“You bastard NATO pussycat! Look what you have done! Torn my eye out! Kill him, kill this capitalist bastard! Tear him to pieces! Do it now! I’m going to order the launch of every single nuclear weapon now; there will be no negotiated peace or unconditional surrender. WE WILL TOTALLY DESTROY YOU!” screamed Archer, holding his bloody empty eye socket with his paw and shaking with anger.

Both SPETSNAZ  foot soldiers tore the unfortunate but brave prisoner apart, in a fur ball of waving tails, lashing paws, biting teeth and cacophony of wails. Five minutes later calm descended. Both vicious Special Force pussycats did their job very well, the NATO pussycat was no more; he was in six large pieces and very dead. He hadn’t given away one single secret.

“Brave foolish NATO pussycat. Now I must see to it that we manipulate our communist masters’ to launch their missiles to destroy our enemy. Then we can be masters of the world, a world without NATO pussycats, their mice or humans. We’re tougher than our enemy and can endure any hardship. After I’ve sorted the launch of our weapons, I’ll get my eye fixed. Good job you two, after the nuclear war, I’ll make sure you two get top positions on my new feline communist government,” hissed Archer to his two partners in crime. His two foot soldiers just nodded and licked their bloody paws.                                                                                                                  

***

By catty subterfuge, scratches, bites and meows, NATO pussycats had made their human masters do the pussycats work. Able was responsible, working with Sabre, to bring about the end of the world as we know it. Twenty eight thousand nuclear weapons were fired from the United States of America against targets in the East, close to a thousand were fired by Britain, five hundred by France and countless other thousands from NATO states towards enemy targets. Thousands of mini suns illuminated the battlefield, bringing World War 3 and the end of the world. Targets hit ranged from bridges where mice could cross, cities where shops sold cheese and catteries where located, nuclear missiles bases where War Pac pussycats lived and sent mice out on spying missions and on the actual invasion. Dozens of other type targets included ones inhabited by only humans, millions died under nuclear mushroom clouds. Hundreds of thousands of tons of dust was kicked up into the atmosphere, blocking out the sun. Slowly the temperature started to drop over the irradiated world. It was the end of the world as humans knew it, brought on by two warring pussycats named Able and Archer. Enemy pussycats and mice were obliterated.

The Soviet/Warsaw Pact response with nuclear weapons was equally decimating. A total of forty five thousand weapons were fired at all manner of targets. Thousands of NATO pussycats were killed along with tens of thousands of mice. Millions of human beings died too. No more tit bits would be given out to pussycats. Everyone was dead in Western Europe and America. This eastern violence was matched by the western acts, Eastern Europe was a nuclear desert matched by Russia and the Soviet states. Every eastern weapon had been launched because of Archer’s and his Comrade’s valiant efforts to defend their eastern homelands from the capitalists, even if it came to total nuclear devastation and the end of the world.

A domino affect had ricocheted around the world, Israel launched her weapons on Arab targets in every Middle Eastern country, South Africa got rid of their enemies in Angola and surrounding states, Red China fired at Russia who fired back in return. Everyone fired at everyone else until nothing was left. Only a smoking radioactive world freezing under a nuclear winter remained.

***

Six months later, a thin emaciated pussycat with medium length black coat emerged from the safety of his nuclear bunker. It was Able. She looked around and didn’t recognise his Greenham Common base. Nothing remained above ground, several direct hits with nuclear warheads saw to that. She thought, They did it. Or we did it or I did it! Nuked the world. Now there’s nothing left. Looking over the dead blackened scorched earth, he saw a skeleton of a cat. In his exhausted state it was a miracle that he managed to run over.

“Oh Sabre! I’m sorry for this. I killed you; I’m responsible for the nuclear war and your death. It was me who ordered the missile launches. We had to do it but we never won, we lost! I lost you and my human friends. Now I’ll never have no more ham sandwiches or dishes or milk. I wish you had made it to the bunker with me. You weren’t fast enough and I had to close the door so I wouldn’t die. I killed you, I’m sorry Sabre! I killed thousands of NATO mice too, for that I’m also sorry. Why did we have to fight Soviet and Warsaw Pact pussycats and mice? Why oh why did we build weapons to annihilate ourselves? Why?” Able sank to her knees next to the skeleton of her former boyfriend Sabre and cried. Now she would never bear him kittens or be there for him. Radiation from the scorched ground bombarded her thin body with charged particles, slowly killing her.

At Vostock, nothing remained of Archer. Not even scorched fair or rotten teeth. Never again would Archer drink vodka from his soldier friends nor sleep under a missile launcher. A direct hit from a huge nuclear weapon had vaporised a massive area, taking with it missiles, launchers, the base, humans and of course, Able and his two Special Forces friends. The crater itself was one mile wide and three hundred mates deep. Archer was half responsible for the end of the world, killing billions of people and hundreds of thousands of animals from military pussycats and mice to pets like dogs and guinea pigs. A planet called Earth had just died.

The meek will NOT inherit this world. Everyone and everything died on November 11 1983. The NATO Operation Able Archer went critical and led to war.