Invasion: Alaska (29 page)

More ASBM blips began to wink out on the big screen. That still left far too many. They would surely destroy the supercarriers, the heart of the fleet’s offensive power. That would end the invasion before it began. How would the Chairman and the Ruling Committee react to that?

“Why aren’t our Type Nine planes firing yet?” the Air Commodore asked.

“Range, sir,” one of the nearest operators said. “In another thirty seconds—”

“That’s cutting it too fine,” the Air Commodore said, as he stepped closer to the big screen. The Air Commodore arched his head to look up as he clenched his fists.

“Sir!” an operator said. “The Tritons are entering the atmosphere. The terminal phase has begun and the enemy warheads are maneuvering.”

Han didn’t know how anyone could make sense of the big screen. It was a blizzard of lines and colored blips. He noticed that lines stabbed from the yellow blips. The lines connected to the fast-moving red blips. There was less than two minutes to impact.

PACIFIC OCEAN

The Triton warheads with their semi-maneuverable vehicles and advanced guidance systems zeroed in on the supercarriers or anything that looked or gave the electronic signature of a giant ocean-going vessel.

High in the atmosphere, however, were the Type Nine COIL anti-ballistic planes flying combat air patrol. Each plane had a medium-ranged-powered laser, much weaker than China’s strategic ABM lasers. The plane’s lasers were chemical-powered as compared to the heavier pulse-lasers ringing China.

Each Type Nine was as large as a Chinese cargo airbus used to transport a main battle-tank to distant theaters of war. Each Type Nine used a COIL weapon: a chemical oxygen iodine laser. The beam was infrared and therefore invisible to the naked eye. A mixture of gaseous chlorine, molecular iodine with hydrogen peroxide and potassium hydroxide fed the laser. A halogen scrubber cleaned traces of chlorine and iodine from the laser exhaust gases. The focusable beam was transferred by an optical fiber, and it speared through the atmosphere at the Triton warheads.

The COIL planes represented China’s entire fleet, kept aloft by tankers. The scale of the operations was immense and impressive.

The Type Nine COIL planes continued to stab their lasers at the last warheads. The SM-4 missiles and the COIL beams had destroyed ninety-three percent of the attack. Now, the few American warheads to survive the journey began to strike with fantastic results.

PRCN
SUNG

Admiral Ling gazed out of the ballistic glass on the supercarrier’s bridge. Something flashed down from the heavens. There was a brighter flash on the horizon. Ling stood frozen for a moment. Then he turned to a computer screen.

There was a sweaty, frightened odor on the bridge as the crew waited for life or death.

“No,” Ling groaned.

“They destroyed a carrier,” an operator whispered.

“Look, sir,” an excited operator told Ling. “The next one hit a camouflaged destroyer.”

The
Sung’s
XO laughed, nodding happily.

Admiral Ling didn’t laugh. He was glad the next warhead had missed another carrier. Yes, the last hit was good for China and the invasion fleet, but not good for the sailors on the destroyer. They had pulsed signals, trying to electronically mimic a carrier. The crew had paid the ultimate price for their success.

A terrific explosion occurred nearby.

Stricken, Admiral Ling looked up. “Was that another carrier?”

“…no, sir,” an operator said. “I think the warhead hit a fuel tender.”

Admiral Ling nodded sickly, waiting for it to be over. How many more ships would the Americans hit?

There was yet another explosion, another massive spot on the horizon. Everyone on the bridge waited. Ling was finding it hard to breath.

“Another fuel tender, sir,” an officer said.

Ling nodded.

Then a horn blared. It was the AI Kingmaker’s way of saying that the ASBM attack was over.

“We did it,” the XO told Admiral Ling. The man grinned. “Soon it will be our turn to attack the Americans.”

Admiral Ling became thoughtful. They had survived with most of the fleet intact. Rubbing his stump of a left shoulder, Admiral Ling sighed. His fleet was headed toward the tip of the Aleutian Islands. The invasion of Alaska was about to begin.

ANCHORAGE, ALASKA

‘Professor’ Stan Higgins checked his watch. He had ten minutes to talk to his dad. Then he had to hightail it to the National Guard Depot. The news yesterday about the Chinese Fleet had frightened everyone at school.

We attacked the fleet with ASBMs and failed to take it out. They’ve already taken out two of our supercarriers in
San Francisco
. It looks like the Chinese are winning
.

Stan sat in a cubicle with ballistic glass and a phone before him. The door in the other room opened. His dad Mack Higgins wore orange prison garb and was flanked by a guard. Mack looked around in confusion.

It hurt to see his dad like this. His father stooped more and his leathery skin sagged on his face. The worst was his cloudy eyes and that his wrists were handcuffed. What was the reason for that?

Stan banged on the glass to get his dad’s attention.

Instead of gaining that, a guard in the visitor’s room told him, “Hey, don’t hit the glass. If you do it again your time is over.”

Stan hunched his shoulders. He waved to his dad. The guard with Mack grabbed his dad’s arm. Big Mack Higgins flinched. More than anything else, that put a pit of pain in Stan’s gut. What had the guards done to his dad to make that happen? His father was a brave man, not easily frightened.

Has Officer Jackson been in to hit him again?

One of these days, Stan would like to face off with Jackson, both of them with nightsticks. Jackson was bigger and might have more training with the sticks, but Stan would jump at the chance to have a fair fight without the law involved. Then they would see what happened.

His dad sat down on the stool in the other cubicle. Stan picked up his phone and smiled. The cloudiness was still in his dad’s eyes.

They’ve drugged him. The creeps have drugged my dad
. Stan tapped on the glass.

“I thought I told you—” the guard in the visitor room said.

“Sorry,” Stan said. “I won’t do it again.”

“If you do,” the guard said, “you ain’t coming back. Got it?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. It made his dad give him a questioning look. Shaking his phone, trying to forget about the guard, Stan mouthed, ‘Pick up your phone.’

It must have worked, because Mack did.

“Hello, Dad,” Stan said.

“Son?”

“Are you all right?”

Mack scowled. “They’re poisoning me with drugs that are ruining my thinking. The aliens suspect me and must be trying to erase my memory.”

“Has anyone hit you?” Stan asked.

Mack touched his side. “Only a few times,” he said. A slow grin worked onto his face. “But I fought back.”

Stan wanted to groan.

Mack put a hand on the glass. Two of the fingernails were cracked and black underneath. “Is it true the aliens are about to invade us?”

“Do you mean the Chinese?”

“Not them, but the aliens, the ones pulling the Chinese strings.”

“The Chinese blew up two of our carriers in San Francisco,” Stan said. “Have you heard about that?”

Mack nodded. “They’re a clever and treacherous people. We must nuke them as MacArthur said. Son, if they’re coming for Alaska, they’ll hit Anchorage sooner or later.”

Stan nodded. His wife and kids had tried to get out at the airport, but couldn’t. All the boats were full. All the cruise ships had long since left, and they were closing the highways.

“The Chinese will send paratroopers to grab the airport,” Mack said.

“That seems like a logical move,” Stan said. He’d taken out a map yesterday, figuring out what he’d do if he were the enemy. “If the Chinese control metropolitan Anchorage, they’ve conquered half the population, grabbed the most important ports and the critical airport. It seems like it would be easy from there to rush to the main passes. Then they could bottle up the rest of Alaska and set up defensive positions into Canada, making it nearly impossible for reinforcements arriving from British Columbia or the Yukon.”

“Let me out of here to help you,” Mack said. “I can lead a counter-terrorist squad. We’ll sweep the Federal government buildings of alien sympathizers.”

Stan winced
. If they’re recording this, my dad is toast. They might send recordings like these to Homeland Security. They’d be sure to kick me out of the National Guard then
.

“Dad, listen to me. I want you…to fool the aliens.”

“What do you know?”

“I think they’re monitoring the phones,” Stan said. “You need to confuse the sympathizers by acting as peaceful as possible.”

Mack squeezed his phone as he stared at Stan. “No! They know who I am. They’re trying to break my will by having psychologists convince me I’m crazy.” Mack laughed. “Besides us two—the aliens have bamboozled nearly everyone else.”

That’s the definition of insane: when you believe you’re the only one who’s sane.

“I know what you mean,” Stan said. “But listen, try to pretend. Go along with them for a little while until I can spring you.”

Mack shoulders straightened. “Are you talking about a jailbreak?”

Stan put a finger in front of his mouth. Then he pointed at the guard. His father nodded in a knowing way.

“I understand,” Mack said.

“Good. Dad, they’ve activated the National Guard. I…I might not be able to visit you tomorrow or for the next few days.”

A look of bewilderment came over Mack Higgins. He swallowed so his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I understand,” he whispered.

He’s scared. They have him good and scared
.

“I’ll come by as soon as I can,” Stan said quickly.

Mack looked away as he lowered the receiver. His grip tightened. When he looked back, his eyes were moist. Lifting the receiver, he said, “You’re driving a tank, right?”

“One of the heavies,” said Stan.

“The Chinese are going to be coming for you,” Mack said. “Your Abrams tanks are old, but they’re the heaviest tanks we have in Alaska.”

More like the
only
tanks we have in
Alaska
. It wasn’t completely true, but it was close enough to make it frightening. Yeah, Stan knew his company would be a primary military target.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” Mack said. “Conserve our armor. Make the Chinese play out against our infantry. Try to plug them up in the streets.”

“We’re not going to let the Chinese into Anchorage,” Stan said. “I can guarantee you that.”

Garcia had told him they were already mining Cook Inlet and Prince William Sound. The National Guard and U.S. Army were also rushing artillery and mortar-teams to Anchorage. The idea was to make the Chinese attack through the Kenai Peninsula if they wanted to reach Anchorage. That was infantry country, especially with the mountains in the Kenai Fjords National Park and the Exit Glacier west of Seward.

Mack was shaking his head. “That’s foolish talk. You need to use Anchorage as a trap. Hold back your Abrams. Have the people throw Molotov cocktails on the engine hoods and use rocket launchers against their armor. Your Abrams are an ace. Only use them to win the game, the Battle for Anchorage. Do you understand me?”

Stan looked at his dad. The old man remembered small-arms tactics but could no longer see the operational picture. Stan nodded. “I do, Colonel Higgins. You’re saying this is going to be a slugfest.”

“The Chinese don’t mind taking losses. America learned that in Korea.”

“The Korean War ended almost eighty years ago,” said Stan.

“National habits don’t change much,” said Mack. “As a history teacher you should know that.”

“Sure, I know it.”

“They’re going to try to grab Alaska fast, doing it the hard way, straightforward with a lightning strike of armor, paratroopers and sleeper units.”

Alaska was twice the size of Texas, with vast mountain ranges, virgin forests and ice. It had more coastline than the rest of the continental United States combined. Stan couldn’t see how the Chinese could conquer the State quickly. They’d need to hit other places simultaneously do to that.

Stan was curious. “How do you know all this, sir?”

“It’s military common sense. They’ll want to grab our State before the President can send the heavy stuff up through British Columbia. Once they own Alaska, the Chinese will hold the people hostage for our country’s good behavior. So you have to drive the Chinese out of Anchorage, once you’ve suckered them into a Stalingrad here.”

“The Chinese haven’t even made it here, Dad. Our submarines and fighters will probably stop them before they can try a D-Day operation against the city.”

“Don’t fool yourself. The Chinese will be here. They have to if they’re going to conquer Alaska. Remember, they’ll hit hard and fast. Absorb the first blow by covering up. See what they have, but stay well away from the big guns on their battleships.”