Invasion: Alaska (35 page)

Then the Chinese assault rolled forward as the night erupted with artillery and hundreds of Marauder cannons. It was shock and awe, and soon American Militiamen were streaming from their positions. Knots of stubborn National Guardsmen and U.S. Airborne continued to fight. Concentrated firepower guided by high-grade Chinese battle technology proved irresistible and deadly in the extreme.

The Chinese smashed and swept aside another American defense for negligible Chinese losses.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Anna sat spellbound as she watched images on a wall-mounted computer-scroll in the lobby of White House Bunker Number Five. Like millions of Americans, perhaps like millions all around the world, she watched Chinese attack choppers flying nap-of-the-Earth—at little more than treetop level.

It was a strange paradox watching the helicopters, because they flew over a Christmas wonderland with pines, snow and awesome background mountains covered in white. Then chainguns opened up from the attack choppers’ nosecones, while anti-personnel missiles streaked down from stubby wings. On the snow near the Alaskan cameraman, U.S. Army trucks exploded and men yelled. Many soldiers and deer-rifle-armed Militiamen tumbled to the ground. The splashes of bright red on the snow told the grim story. One gruesome shot showed a soldier wearing body-armor simply disintegrate as a chaingun’s bullets hosed him to death.

On the computer-scroll, the images moved jerkily up and down as harsh breathing was heard. The cameraman ran for cover as his boots crunched over snow. Then the video image settled on an Alaskan National Guardsman. He wore a bulky parka and knelt on snow. He aimed a Blowdart-missile at the attack choppers. The National Guardsman wore a blue cap, with the bill backward on his head. It was a Seattle Seahawks Football cap. He pulled the trigger and a red contrail showed he got off the anti-air missile. Then the Seahawk soldier slammed backward as chaingun bullets obliterated his body, raining red droplets onto the snow. The video image was a momentary blur, and then Anna followed the speeding missile as it missed a veering helicopter. Once again, Chinese electronics proved superior to American.

In the lobby, Major Johnson, an aide to General Alan, jumped off the far end of the couch. “You Chinese gooks!” Johnson’s blue eyes were hard as he stared angrily at the screen.

Anna Chen’s shoulders hunched. Why did people and men in particular have the need for racial slurs? She did not like the war with China. She desperately hoped for an American victory. Why did these horrible images stir in people the need for racial hatred?

Man is tribal. He has a need to love his own and hate the other. The Chinese kill our tribe, hence, his tribesmen are gooks and worse. As long as we are human, this trait will remain no matter how hard we try to eradicate it
.

“Do you see that?” Johnson shouted. “Those dirty gooks don’t fight fair.”

Anna had been looking at Johnson. She now turned back to the screen.

American F-16s screamed out of the overcast, gray sky, with air-to-air missiles launching from under their wings. The Chinese attack choppers fled, racing for a thick stand of pines. Beyond was dirty-colored water, beyond the miles-wide body of water were more pines, those decorated with snow.

A hidden ground-based laser must have fired. An F-16 tumbled earthward, with one of its wings sheared off.

“No,” Johnson groaned.

The other fighters broke off, some diving, others rocketing higher into the sky. Chinese missiles roared after them. It looked now as if the helicopters had been bait for a trap. Another F-16 exploded.

“Such destruction,” Anna said.

Johnson sat down near her, with his hands clasped between his knees. He was intent on the screen. “I don’t know how we can defeat them. Everything they have is newer, better and smarter. From jets to guns—I hear their newest assault rifles have targeting computers. This is going to be a disaster.”

Anna didn’t acknowledge him or his words. His racial epithets earlier still stung.

A wall buzzer went off. Glumly, Johnson checked his cell phone. “The President has returned,” he said. “Are you ready?”

Anna stood up, heading for the conference room.

***

General Alan was speaking about the ongoing retreat into the mountains. Highway One cut across the Kenai Peninsula going from west to east. Moose Pass or Highway Nine went from Seward to Anchorage, south to north.

“Along Highway One,” General Alan said, “the Chinese are smashing everything we put in their path. In Moose Pass, our men give ground grudgingly and slowly. Unfortunately, once the Chinese reach the Junction of Highway One and Nine, the soldiers bottling up the Chinese in Moose Pass will have to retreat.”

“We badly need armor up there,” the Defense Secretary said. “By armor I mean tanks. And not just our outdated M1A2 tanks, we need some of the modern armor. We need more anti-air cover. We need some real soldiers, not just the Alaskan National Guard and Militiamen.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” General Alan said, “the men facing the Chinese
are
real soldiers.”

“These soldier-boys haven’t stopped the enemy,” the Defense Secretary said.

“We can’t ask them to do more than they’re capable of doing.”

“I do ask that and I will continue to do so,” the Defense Secretary said, pounding the table. “We must halt the Chinese! The main ports are in Anchorage, and the international airport is there. We can’t let the Chinese reach the city. We certainly can’t allow them to break out of Anchorage and get to the mountain passes beyond. If they pour the Chinese Army into South Central Alaska, it would take an American bloodbath to drive them out.”

The thought of that brought silence to the underground chamber.

“We must stop them before Anchorage,” the President said. “We will stop them. First, do we have more information concerning the formations our men our facing?”

“Yes, sir,” said General Alan. “In almost every instance so far, we have faced Chinese naval infantry. They are structured much like our Marine Corps.”

“Sir,” the Defense Secretary said. “Does it matter if they’re naval troops or Chinese Army?”

“What’s your point?” the President asked, sounding nettled.

“The issue at hand, sir,” the Defense Secretary said. “How to stop them dead in their tracks. We keep feeding them units piecemeal, trying to plug their advance. Clearly, that hasn’t been working.”

“What else do you suggest?” the President asked.

“Call the Canadian Prime Minister and talk him into helping us. We helped them during the Quebec Separatist War. Surely, a few Canadian battalions rushed to Alaska could do wonders.”

“The Canadians don’t want anything to do with this,” the Secretary of State said.

“Then we must rush mass reinforcements to Alaska,” the Defense Secretary said.

General Alan spread his slender hands. “Sir, we’ve been trying to do just that.”

“Not hard enough apparently,” the Defense Secretary said.

“It’s not like it used to be,” General Alan said. “Storms rage in the Yukon and in upper British Columbia. Ice and snow block the passes and many of the roads. The storms have cut off Alaska to everything except carefully rerouted air-travel.”

The Defense Secretary slammed the table with his fist. His pudgy face was crimson and his eyes were red-rimmed. He was a Southerner, a hot-tempered man known as ‘the Knife’ for how he’d slashed the defense budget during his time in office.

“The Chinese made an unprovoked attack,” he said. “According to the records, they destroyed a Californian oilrig and then sneakily targeted two of our carriers. There was never a formal declaration of war, simply these unforgivable attacks on sovereign American territory. They have burned away any goodwill we might have. They’ve tossed aside the accepted rules of war, and therefore we’re warranted to do the same.”

“What are you suggesting, Tom?” the President asked.

“No one wants nuclear winter, sir,” the Defense Secretary said.

Anna’s chest tightened. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this.

“Our military is in full stage rout,” the Defense Secretary said. “The Chinese are racing toward Anchorage, the pivot point of the State.”

“Wait,” said Green. “If it’s troops we need, what about those in the North Slope oilfields?”

“They await the Chinese ice-mobile attack,” General Alan said.

“Have these ice-mobile formations attacked yet?” Green asked.

“Not yet,” General Alan admitted.

“Maybe that was all a bluff,” Green said, “used to draw away military strength from the critical area at the key time.”

“Explain that,” the President said.

“What are the Chinese ice-mobile units doing now?” Green asked.

“Unfortunately, we have no idea,” General Alan said. “The GPS drones are needed elsewhere.”

One of the military aides had explained about the GPS drones earlier. They were inexpensive, lightweight, high-endurance and high-altitude flyers that took the place of expensive satellites. Most American high-altitude GPS drones belonged to the Navy and they were being used on the Southern Front.

“Maybe the Chinese sent supplies north to Ambarchik Base in order to fool us,” Green said. “The Chinese mindset seems to prefer elaborate plans with hidden deceptions. Perhaps they believed we would discover their invasion plan before it occurred. This deception was meant for us to waste precious military resources in a place they never intended to attack.”

“Are you suggesting the Chinese are not headed for the North Slope oilfields?” the President asked.

“It’s a possibility,” said Green.

“We can’t know that,” said General Alan. “Maybe the polar taskforce hit blizzards along the way. Maybe it’s much harder crossing the icepack with several brigades-worth of men and vehicles than anyone could imagine. Maybe even as we speak the Chinese are getting ready to strike the North Slope.”

“Or maybe it’s time to take a risk,” Green said. “Tom says we’re about to lose Anchorage. Very well, use the troops protecting the oilfields to redeploy to Anchorage.”

“Redeploy how?” asked General Alan. “The Alaskan rail-line ends at Fairbanks. We would need to use precious air-transports to move them. We need those transports to air-ferry troops and supplies from the south. No. I can’t see how it will help us to lose
both
the oilfields and Anchorage.”

“What good are the oilfields if Anchorage falls?” Green asked. “Maybe it is time to deicide which point is most important and protect it with everything we have. The many mountains ranges and the vast distances between the oilfields and Anchorage means the ice-mobile formations could never help attack South Central Alaska. The cross-polar attack, if it is really coming, is only good for capturing the oilfields.”

Deep lines appeared on the President’s forehead. “That’s a cogent point, Colin. The Marine Commandant said something similar to me this morning.”

“Sir,” said General Alan, “I doubt there’s time for such a redeployment, not at the present rate of the Chinese advance to Anchorage. We have to stop them with what we already have in place.”

“That’s my point,” the Defense Secretary said. “We must stop them now.”

“You’re not suggesting tactical nuclear weapons?” the President asked.

“Tactical?” the Defense Secretary asked. “No. The short-ranged missiles would likely never make it to target. They’re too fragile, and despite their short-range, they’re in the air too long, giving the enemy a radar fix. Have you seen the lasers stabbing our aircraft?”

Anna thought about the video-shot showing that less than an hour ago.

“Those battlefield lasers are primarily for stopping tactical nuclear weapons,” the Defense Secretary said. “No. I’m talking about ICBMs, strategic nuclear weapons, targeted on the invasion fleet. Our ICBMs are big, armored and many have complex EW equipment onboard. They’d fall down straight from space and enough should get through the Chinese tactical laser defense.” The Defense Secretary made a sweeping motion. “We’d remove their fleet from the board and see what happens to their vaunted invasion force then.”

Anna’s mouth dried out. Talk of strategic nuclear weapons was sickening. Some of the people looked shocked like her. Others seemed to consider the Defense Secretary’s words.

“Some of our non-nuclear ASBMs got through before,” the Defense Secretary said. “If just a few nuclear warheads hit the fleet, our worries would vanish like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The Chinese couldn’t sustain the attack because their naval infantry already ashore would quickly run out of supplies, never mind their sudden lack of air support. We’d have won the war.”

“That’s an interesting point,” the President said.

The Secretary of State sipped his water and ran a thick hand through his strands of hair. Lines appeared in his forehead. Then he swiveled his head to gaze at Anna.

“Ms. Chen,” the Secretary of State said. “How do you think the Chairman would view such an attack?”

“Sir?” she whispered.

“Would the Chairman respond with a strategic nuclear attack on our heartland?” the Secretary of State asked, “Or would he accept our strike as one of the prices of battle?”