Brothers No More

A short little prose teaser/prologue for Part Two of the ANZAC piece Hawktana and I are working on.

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**Brothers No More

Wuhan; 8:49pm, 20 September, 1939**

The air in the dining room was heavy with emotion. Fear, anticipation, desperation. Nerves.

The NRA’s 5th Army had been annihilated by the Japanese, and now they and their warlord puppets were screaming up the Yangtze. The United Front had already evacuated Nanjing in July, and now they had to decamp from Wuhan. The War Council estimated they would enter the city’s outskirts within 72 hours.

Jiang Jieshi had invited Kung Hsiang-hsi and his wife to dinner despite the ongoing evacuation efforts. “One last dinner in Wuhan,” he had said. Many considered it the birthplace of the New China, and many - Jieshi and Hsiang-hsi included - found a great deal of nostalgia in the city. For all they knew it would be the last night any of them would spend in their governments first proper capital. Might as well make some time for family. At least that’s what he had said.

Jieshi put his spoon down, and took a gulp of wine to steel himself.

“Hsiang-hsi, I know you have no love for Wang, or the Communists.”

“Jieshi, you’re being abnormally delicate” he chuckled. “I hate the bastards.”

“Hmm.” Jieshi smiled. Perhaps this might go better than planned. “As do I, and the social-imperialist sons of bitches they call our fucking allies. So I think it would be appropriate for me to extend you this courtesy, brother.”

Hsieng-hsi stopped eating and looked at Jieshi, head tilted.

“I will not be following you or the government to Chongqing in the morning. I will be heading north.”

Hsieng-hsi laughed in disbelief. “But you’d be walking straight into the jaws of -.”

Jieshi held up a hand. “The Japanese, I know. I’ve- we’ve an agreement. I will take what and who I can from the Party and form a new government with Zhang and Liang in Beijing. I would appreciate it if you would accompany us”

Kung was quiet for a moment. When he spoke his voice was cold and hard as iron. “You damned traitor. You’d sell out to the bastards that have kept us from true unification?! Do you really think all their talk of ‘pan asianism’ and ‘asiofuturism’ means anything?” He never raised his voice, but there was rage there. Nothing was more dangerous than that controlled anger. “‘Concordism’ is just another cover for the same imperialism that has plagued us for the last century! One. Hundred. Years. We’ve spent the last decade and change fighting the likes of Zhang and Liang, and-”

‘YOUR MOTHERS CUNT, DO YOU EVER STOP” Jiang thundered. “I have made my fucking choice. Wang is the traitor. He has sold our nation back to the Russians and the fucking Americans. Americans! I know you’re fond of their missionaries and their schools. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care that they have a shiny new fucking flag or that they say that they’re helping us. When your eyes are being plucked out, you can’t tell if it’s an Eagle or a Raven doing the deed. I don’t really fucking care either way.” He sighed, then put his head in his hands. “Better the devil we know. I have made my choice, you can follow me, or follow that fucking snake Wang and the social fucking imperialists. That is your decision.”

Kung stood from his chair. “I will do you this last courtesy as your brother: Wang and the rest of the Committee will not not hear of this. But I tell you this: you are dead to me. After tonight, you are no brother to anyone in China, least of all me.” He and his wife turned to leave. He had never raised his voice.

Jiang dismissed his wife, and sat in his chair for a moment. Then came the storm. Shouting curses, he threw his wine glass at the wall, stood, and straightened his uniform. He was expected in Beijing in a few days. If he wanted his “disappearance” to go smoothly, he would have to leave Wuhan within the next few hours.

Time to get to work, then. *[WPA]: Works Progress Administration *[NBI]: National Bureau of Investigation