Chapter 8: The Wheels of Progress

"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

― Sun Tzu

Alfred couldn't believe what he held in his hands. The Pact of Friendship, a document crafted by the greatest Americans of the age, was now signed by nine foreign nations. Burma…Myanmar, he reminded himself, had ultimately decided to abstain from signing, but would remain a passive partner in the region, helping the members of the members of ASEAN in their quest to be free of Chinese domination. That worked out just fine for Alfred, of course. He didn't necessarily need, nor expect, so many nations of Southeast Asia to join his side. He'd dropped bombs on them, swindled them out of funds or resources, and been an all-around jerk to them at one point or another. It amazed them how much trust they were willing to place in his country.

Of course, he knew it ran far deeper than any kind of personal loyalty they may have held toward him. They never would've accepted his proposal had it not been for the support of his dear fiancée, Vietnam. Although he appeared to be ignoring their discussion whilst speaking with Japan, he had managed to overhear her support for his plan. She didn't say much, but what was said spoke volumes. Here was a country he'd invaded and conquered, whose government was executed by his troops, who was willing to support his plans for a new empire.

It didn't make much sense…

After the final signature was in place, Alfred thanked the Asian nations, promising to hear back from his government shortly, as soon as news of Vietnam's annexation began to ebb. It was rare for such rapid fire good news to reach his people; he wanted them to savor it for as long as possible.

In the meantime, Alfred planned to spend the rest of his day in the company of the former French colony he'd fought so hard to win over. Before he could slip away, however, Japan grabbed onto him, insistent that they make preparations.

"Mr. America, I hate to spoil this moment for you, but we really must discuss what we are going to do about the U.N.!"

Alfred, though not denying the seriousness of the situation, was currently more interested in pursuing Vietnam.

"We will discuss this; I promise you that, Kiku. But…not right now. For now, head back to your country, and start increasing trade with the members of ASEAN. I want to start rattling at China's economic grip, for that to work, we'll all need to reduce our reliance on his goods. I'll be in contact with you in a few days; there are still a few more things I need to handle in the meantime….

"You mean Vietnam?" Kiku asked with a knowing smirk.

Alfred returned the smirk, catching a glimpse of the nation in question descending down to the lower levels of the palace.

"Primarily."

The Presidential press conference was finally winding down. Alfred listened in briefly as President Anderson gave his final statement on behalf of their newest province. He couldn't help but swell with pride at his eloquent words. It'd been quite some time since he'd been graced with a leader whose drive for reform was matched by his skillful articulation. Few presidents could match him.

The spell of inspiration was finally broken by the eruption of applause from supporters of the regime and equally inspired reporters. The President was going to overnight back to D.C. to tackle federal budget legislation. Alfred planned to join him, but would be arriving on his own time. Now was the time to indulge in the company of his beautiful Vietnam.

Easily moving through the crowd of onlookers, he caught sight of his target, sharing a few words with her newly elected president. Normally, diplomacy would trump passion and he'd have allowed her to finish conversing. But things were different; he was the leader of an empire, he took precedent now.

"If you don't mind, PresidentNguyễn, I'd like to borrow your country for a while," he stated casually, wrapping his arms around his new fiancé.

"Of course Mr. America, as you like."

As soon as the president departed, Alfred leaned in, whispering into his beloved's ear.

"And what did you think of my proposition, my beautiful Ly Minh?"

His hot breath sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"You…haven't called me by my name in quite a long time," she mused. "Why the sudden change?"

He grinned at her amazing perception. It was true; it'd been years since he'd called her by her true name. Following the siege at Khe Sanh back in '68, he'd used it less and less. When Saigon fell seven years later, he dropped it all together. Even thinking about it had brought back the memories of his greatest failure as the 'protector of democracy.' He'd taken down the Nazis and Imperial Japan with relative ease, and yet he couldn't protect one tiny country from a bunch of socialist rice farmers. It was much more complex than that, but the memories of Ly Minh didn't seem to care. All he saw was failure…

"I have nothing to fear now," he responded. "You're safe, with me. I failed once, but I will never fail you again."

Planting a kiss on her cheek, he escorted her outside of the Presidential Palace. Two of his Minutemen were waiting outside, guarding the door. Upon seeing their nation and commander exit, they immediately followed.

"So Ly, I was thinking you and I could take a little day trip together."

"Really? Where to?"

Waiting for them in the open area of the Palace grounds was a Blackhawk helicopter, its rotor blades already turning.

"I think it's time we revisit Saigon. I've had enough nightmares about that place; time to put them to rest."

"My sovereign Leader, it is terrible. The Yankee imperialist has not only enslaved our comrade, Vietnam, but is attempting to persuade all of Asia into his empire. We must stop him!"

North Korea's Vietnam ambassador stood across from his aging leader, his tone masking the fear he felt in the presence of the Great Successor; no one felt truly safe around him. The fact that he was the third ambassador to Vietnam in the span of two years revealed all too plainly the lack of job security.

He watched his leader rise from his chair, the small army of guards surrounding him snapping to attention in response. For a time however, their leader remained stoically silent. They nervously awaited his answer, wondering what, if anything, would be said.

"These actions are greatly distressing," he answered cryptically. "The Yankee dogs are now reapplying the shackles of tyranny to the free comrades of Asia. They are no doubt preparing for war. We must be the first to strike. Jun Soo!"

An impeccably dressed soldier immediately stepped forward.

"Yes sir," he responded, his eyes never losing their steely gaze.

"It is my understanding the next World Meeting will occur in one month's time. You shall attend this meeting… and remind the United States that there is a price to imperialism, one they must now pay."

"I understand, sir. I shall bring honor to our great nation."

Crisply saluting his Dear Leader, the nation of North Korea turned on his heels and left his leader's presence. In order to strike fear in the hearts of Americans, certain….weapons would be needed.

The newly renamed city of Saigon was bustling with activity. Despite many of the citizens being abuzz with news of their country's recent annexation, for a majority of the populace, life went on as usual. Cars and motorbikes flooded the streets, ships docked at ports loaded and unloaded cargo, and the general flow of the world continued to meander along. Overlooking the city from the top floor of the Bitexco Financial Tower, Saigon's tallest skyscraper, Alfred and Ly Minh were greeted to a panoramic view of the jewel of Southeast Asia.

"Saigon's changed quite a bit since I last got the chance to truly visit," America mused, noting with fascination the startling similarities the city bore to one of his own metropolitan centers.

"We've had many years of economic growth to fuel it," Ly Minh responded proudly. "This city has become the center of trade and technology in the region."

Vietnam's words held serious weight to the western nation. He'd seen firsthand how developing countries had risen to prosperity over the course of the 21st century. It never ceased to amaze him how much Saigon had changed. A few decades ago, though still a wealthy city, the most valuable goods available were American products sold on the black market. Now, he doubted if the average Vietnamese could not access goods from anywhere in the entire world.

"I wish I could've been a part of this, though," he noted. "Shame I had to let the socialists figure this out for themselves."

"What do you mean?"

Taking a step closer to the glass wall separating them from the outside, Alfred gestured to the skyscrapers all around them.

"Look at all of this…this isn't socialism. By definition, private enterprise to this extent shouldn't exist. Your leaders, however, have seen the benefits which capitalism brings. They continue to use the guise of socialism in order to maintain power. But, I think you and I both realize that the Vietnam you see before you is not one which Ho Chi Minh would've expected."

Pushing through the glass door, Alfred stepped out onto the helipad where his Blackhawk was currently idled. The moist humidity of downtown Saigon hit him full force, bringing back the memories of a time long passed. Ly Minh quickly followed after him, wondering what on Earth he was doing.

"What are you trying to say, Alfred? Granted, this was not Ho Chi Minh's vision, but he died over fifty years ago, why are you bringing him up?"

"The world is changing all around us, Ly," he responded cryptically. "That which you think stable and constant shall soon be proven false. There are those among us who are willing to sacrifice this world in order to rule over its ashes. I am not one of those individuals. That is why I fight, that is why I have annexed your country and incorporated your ASEAN brothers and sisters into my empire. We must be willing to stand against those who are willing to let millions die in their quest for power. Before, it was only men like Uncle Ho I had to fear; those whose range of vision was limited to their own country or region of influence. But now….now it is no longer men I fear, but nations. I fear we have lost that sense of humanity which has grounded us for so many centuries. We must regain it, or risk losing everything."

Alfred stopped, smiling to himself. He shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Ly, I must sound crazy. You probably don't know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. Please Alfred, tell me."

America turned to his fiancée, his hand caressing her cheek as he gazed lovingly into her eyes.

"For now, just know that I love you, Ly. I will do anything and everything to protect you. All I ask of you is that you trust me. I know my actions are perceived as violent, and that is not going to change. The nation you know cannot exist right now; I must be ruthless and uncaring to those who will not join me. Trust me Viet; it will all make sense in the end."

Before Ly could respond, a beeping sound filled the air. Reaching up to his glasses, Alfred pressed a small button on its side, accepting the video call.

"Go ahead," he instructed, watching the image of one his Minutemen appear on the right lens.

"Chief, the President's on his way back to Air Force One," the masked individuals relayed. "He says he wants you to meet him in D.C. as soon as possible."

"Understood; I'll be airborne within the hour."

Pressing the button once again, the image faded, his glasses reverting back to their transparent state.

"Looks like I've got to head back now, Ly," he said finally. "I'll speak with you as soon as I can."

"Can't I come with you?"

"Not just yet, sorry. I need you here to oversee the integration of your country into mine. I'll be sending along a team of diplomats, researchers, economists, and military commanders to Vietnam within the next few days; I want you to be here to greet them and ensure they are given all which they require to aid in their work. In one month's time, the next World Meeting is scheduled to occur in Seoul, South Korea, I will see you then, I promise."

Giving her one last kiss, Alfred turned toward the helicopter whose rotor blades were already beginning to turn.

"Alfred, wait!"

Ly grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him from moving any further.

"Can you at least tell me one thing?"

"Of course," he replied, focusing his attention on her once again.

"What is it you hope to achieve? What is your ultimate goal?"

Alfred took pause at that, realizing how deep the answer truly was. He wanted to be honest with her, but the honest answer, at face value, would make little sense at the present time.

"I want….to make them listen," he answered truthfully. "I want them to hear what I have to say."

Ly had no idea what he was talking about, but, at some strange level, understood. Slowly, she nodded, accepting that she would uncover the meaning behind his words when the time was right.

"Okay."

Alfred knew his answer was lacking, but it boded well in him that Ly was accepting of it. Perhaps she truly did still trust in him…

"Thank you."

Boarding the helicopter, Alfred was ceded over controls from the Minutman co-pilot.

"Oh and by the way, do you know who owns this tower?"

Ly was taken aback by the question.

"It's owned by Bitexco Group. They're one of Vietnam's largest and most profitable corporations."

Alfred nodded at that, putting on his headset and exchanging his glasses for a pair of shades.

"Tell their CEO to give me a call while I'm in transit. I'd like to buy it."

"The skyscraper?!" she asked incredulously.

"No, the entire corporation. It'd be the perfect way to start integrating American and Vietnamese companies. Besides, this tower would make an excellent new U.S. embassy."

Flashing her one of his trademark grins, Alfred lifted up on the control stick, taking the black helicopter high into the air. Ly Minh watched as her fiancé flew across the hot afternoon sky toward his awaiting plane. In one month's time, they would reunite in South Korea; in the meantime, however…she had no way of knowing what he was going to be up to.

End Chapter 8