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Able Archer by Jimmy Boom Semtex sample

Able Archer

by Jimmy Boom Semtex


Welcome to the world that almost was. In late 1983 NATO members carried out a command and control exercise. Soviet/Warsaw Pact enemy forces mobilized and got ready 'just in case' war erupted. This story assumes that war did start and tells it from a different angle - from the feline view. Join Able and Archer, two pussy cats on opposing sides, in their story of eating, paranoia and eventual Armageddon. Who will win and who will die? It captures the Cold War mindset, one that appears to have returned in early/mid 2014.

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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. ***

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