“They need to hold,” Sims said, “but we need to buy our soldiers time, even if it’s only an extra day.”
“Why not rush mass reinforcements to Los Angeles?” Levin asked. “We have more troops, many more.”
“We could do that,” General Alan admitted. “But we would do so at a grave risk elsewhere, and in more critically strategic locations. That is what I mean about speaking frankly. We must look at the strategic picture. This attack into California is simply the opening assault against North America. My DIA analysts suggest that counting the naval assault, two million PAA soldiers have driven into the state. That leaves over nine million more for us to deal with. The Germans are heavily reinforcing Cuba, which indicates they are getting ready to move against us. The South American Federation and the rest of the PAA forces are, in our estimation, operationally ready to invade Texas and New Mexico with a mass assault that will make the Californian attack pale in comparison.”
General Alan glanced around the table. “Until the enemy commits himself, we must carefully weigh the reinforcements we send to Los Angeles. If we entrain too many, we could weaken ourselves elsewhere at too great a cost.”
“We cannot afford to lose California,” Sims said.
“I agree, Mr. President. But neither can we afford to save California and lose Texas, which would be a much deadlier blow to our defenses. In the worst case, we could set up new defenses in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. But to lose Texas…it would open up the underbelly of America to the aggressors.”
The silence grew as General Alan stopped talking. The importance of his words stamped themselves onto Anna.
President Sims seemed to age before them as his shoulders drooped. Finally, he cleared his throat and said in a soft voice, “Then it’s up to the soldiers in Los Angeles to hold on until new heavy equipment can beef up their formations.”
“It’s up to the soldiers on the ground to hold,” General Alan agreed. “If they can, they could turn the Chinese drive into a prohibitive siege for the enemy.”
The President stared at his hands. After a time, he said. “I admit to finding myself dumbfounded at Chinese aggressiveness and to their adroit maneuverability in the Southern Californian environment.”
“Begging your pardon, sir…” General Alan said.
“Go ahead, speak your mind,” Sims said.
“Respectfully, sir, I would hardly call what we’ve seen high maneuverability on their part. Except for the original tank drive past the Salton Sea, it has been more like endless grinding battles of attrition.”
“No,” Sims said, “I don’t see it that way. The Blue Swam missile assault nearly collapsed our entire SoCal Fortifications. Using the partial success of the EMP missiles, the Chinese have used grinding attritional battles to break through in critical areas and then they proceeded to surround our shattered Army Group. We’ve witnessed slow-motion maneuvering in an environment that usually brings month-long sieges. When you think about, it is very original in concept and execution, much like their drive across the Arctic ice seven years ago.”
General Alan shrugged and turned to whisper to the major, his aide.
“Are the Chinese historically known for such military innovation?” Sims asked.
With a start, Anna realized he addressed her. “Uh…I’m uncertain, Mr. President. In the past, my analysis concentrated on the political aspects, not the military.”
“It’s something to think about,” Sims said.
“Mr. President,” General Alan said, “if you’ll consider this…”
Anna cocked her head as she thought about what the President had just asked her. It was a chance comment perhaps, but something about it nagged at her.
I have to study this.
She took out her smart phone and turned on the recorder, telling herself to look into this first thing tomorrow morning.
SAN YSIDRO, CALIFORNIA
Marshal Nung sat back at his desk. He rubbed his orbs until purple spots appeared before them. They were tired from reading endless reports.
He had been studying the American air commitment with a careful eye. During the first days of the campaign they had burned up a large portion of their air forces. Because of the commando attacks on the Blue Swan launching sites, it had won the Americans much. In his estimation, it had been a worthy exchange for the enemy. Still, U.S. air power had been steadily dwindling throughout the campaign.
Now he had reached the critical phase of the Battle for California. So much had gone wrong, a common problem in war. No plan survived contact with the enemy. He hadn’t expected the casualties to reach such an excessively bloody point so quickly. Yet they had. It was a fact. He couldn’t change that so there was no use worrying about it.
The key elements were easy to see. The Blue Swan missiles hadn’t worked as thoroughly as he’d hoped. Still, they had torn holes in the SoCal Fortifications. The missiles had given him his great chance. Another element had been the giant American tanks. They had thwarted him at Palm Springs. They had also freed a pocket and slowed his advanced into Los Angeles.
Now it was time to commit the final reserves. He had many fresh divisions left and it would take a day or two to deploy them at the front. They would have to grind through the defenses in the great urban sprawl that was Los Angeles.
Another bitter pill had been the failure of the Navy to capture the Bay Area and drive through the delta into Central California. The naval infantry was bogged down now in the Bay Area, crawling toward San Francisco. They tied down some U.S. formations, but they did not threaten the state with sudden capture. The nuclear missiles there had won the Americans a great reprieve.
It was time to return them the favor. It was time to beseech the Leader and gain approval to use nuclear weapons against the U.S. He would not use them on American cities nor would he use them on American formations. He would not give China a nuclear black eye. But with nuclear weapons he would cut off the Los Angeles troops from reinforcements.
Marshal Nung sighed, rubbed his eyes and picked up his e-reader. He had a few more reports to digest. Then he needed to speak to the Leader. He could no longer spare the Eagle Team troops. He was going to need every one of them to outmaneuver the enemy in Los Angeles.
The answer was there, in the heavy American losses in air assets,. Nung hadn’t expected the enemy to use his air so freely and let it dwindle to almost nothing. That was the opening he needed for something new.
Nung began reading again, clicking his e-reader, and soon he smiled. This could work. This would ensure that the Americans holding Los Angeles would wither on the vine. The battle had been costlier than expected, but it was still possible to win the entire state with the troops he had remaining. What he needed to do was gain the Leader’s permission and then begin the last leg of the Southern Californian assault with his last fresh formations.
BEIJING, PRC
“Yes,” Jian Hong said. He spoke via a computer screen to Marshal Nung. The entire Ruling Committee attended, listening to the exchange. Nung had been most persuasive regarding the need for nuclear weapons.
Naturally, Marshal Kao and Foreign Minister Deng had disagreed. Jian had sat back and let Nung argue with them. Kao and Deng feared nuclear escalation, or so they said. Jian was beginning to wonder if those two feared nuclear usage because they secretly wished for the California attack to fail. Well, he would put an end to this right now.
Jian sat stiffly in his chair as the old Chairman used to do in these situations. He said, “It is time to teach the Americans that they are not the only ones who can unleash nuclear fire.” Jian directed his words to Nung but wanted Kao and Deng to understand why he was giving the order. “You have my go-ahead, Marshal Nung. Teach the Americans a most bitter lesson.”
DONNER PASS, CALIFORNIA
Captain Lee of the Chinese Air Force glanced out of his Ghost aircraft canopy. Stars twinkled overhead, while pines carpeted the nearby mountainside. In the distance loomed giant peaks.
&nb
sp; He went from south to north along the Sierra Nevada Range along with six other pilots in their ultra-stealthy bombers.
Thirteen paved roads crossed the mountain range east to west into California. Due to glaciation, most of the passes proved treacherous even in summer. By fall, they were snowed in except for the Donner and Beckwourth Passes. Snowplows working day and night kept the two passes open. The Central Pacific railroad used the Donner Pass, while the Western Pacific used Beckwourth.
Marshal Nung wanted both the Donner and Beckwourth Passes unusable, particularly the rail lines running through them. In the past twenty years, with the continually rising cost of gasoline, railroads had taken on greater importance in America.
To that end these seven upgraded and highly-modified Ghosts S-13E3s had slipped past American radar guarding the Greater Los Angeles area.
During the Alaskan War the original Ghosts had been the latest in ultra-stealthy tech. These seven used technologies perfected since that conflict. These Ghosts were also bigger and had greater range than those used in Alaska. They used air-to-ground missiles that the pilots would fire from a safe distance.
Captain Lee took his Ghost lower. He led the attack, and he was nervous. This was a great honor and it was a dangerous task. Each of his missiles carried a nuclear warhead. China was finally going to retaliate for the treacherous nuclear attack in Santa Cruz.
Under most conditions, High Command would have sent drones for such a mission. But secrecy was critical, and drones needed radio guidance, which the Americans might have been able to trace.
Chinese stealth technology was advanced, but there were rumors that the Americans had perfected a new surveillance system. Captain Lee had heard the rumors from his wife who worked in Intelligence. According to her, that’s why China had helped terrorists explode a nuclear device in Silicon Valley.
China’s leaders wanted to keep its technical edge over the Americas. Once, America had possessed the best tech. They used to be an innovative people and China’s leaders didn’t want to allow the enemy to climb back up the tech tree.
Captain Lee grinned. It was a good thing, too, good for him, this technological edge. Otherwise he would be in even more danger flying this boldly and deeply into enemy territory. All he needed was another sixteen minutes and he could launch the missiles. He was here to teach the Americans a bitter and deadly lesson.
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN, COLORADO
In NORAD Command, an air control officer frowned at the strange images on his screen. Finally, he signaled the colonel, motioning him near.
“Sir, I’m sorry to trouble you, but I don’t understand these signals.” The air control officer tapped his screen.
The colonel frowned as he leaned down to study the images. His aftershave was strong and enveloped both men.
“This is the Sierra Nevada Range, sir,” the air control officer said with a hand before his mouth.
“Show me the pattern since you first spotted these.”
The air-control officer held his breath and manipulated his screen as ordered.
The colonel straightened. “Are there any Reflex fighters in range?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alert them and burn whatever they are.”
The air control officer twisted around in his chair to look up at the colonel. “What if they’re our planes, sir?”
The colonel didn’t look at the air-control officer, as he was too busy staring at the faint, intermittent images on the screen. “God help us if they are, but I doubt those are our planes. They have no IFF. Order the Reflexes to intercept them and burn them now!”
FRESNO, CALIFORNIA
As the stars slowly wheeled across the heavens, minutely shifting their patterns, Major Romanov’s Reflex interceptor picked up speed and began climbing. Romanov belonged to a trio of aircraft. The three planes had been cruising, part of the North American Defense Net. Twenty-two such craft were up at all times around the continental U.S.
Each interceptor was larger than a Galaxy cargo plane. Each carried an ultra-hardened mirror on the bottom of the aircraft, the reflex of the strategic battle system.
Giant Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) stations ringed the country. Their task was to stab the heavens with a powerful laser and burn down incoming warheads. These stations made an ICBM exchange between the North American Alliance and China nearly impossible. In 2038, President Sims had used the strategic ABMs to destroy every enemy satellite the lasers could reach. No one was going to monitor the U.S. or use space mirrors to fire enemy lasers down into America if he could help it.
Instead of ICBMs, the danger now came from slippery cruise missiles and low-level stealth bomber attacks. The strategic ABMs could not hit those unless they were in direct line of sight to the particular station. The Reflex interceptor changed the equation, as the ABM station could bounce the laser off the plane’s mirror and hit a low-flying target. The trick was making precise calculations and getting the Reflex high enough and in exactly the right position.
The huge planes lumbered higher and higher, afterburners giving them speed. Romanov glanced outside and saw a huge wing wobble the slightest bit. The red light on the end always comforted him and he didn’t know why. In time, as the NORAD colonel cursed at the Reflex pilots to hurry, the planes moved into their positions.
Three distant AWACS now monitored the Chinese Ghosts. NORAD had ordered recon drones toward the first faint images. Now the air control officer could see the enemy aircraft much more clearly.
“We have target acquisition,” Major Romanov said in the first Reflex interceptor.
“Fire,” the NORAD colonel ordered.
The strategic ABM station in Fresno aimed its giant laser at Romanov’s mirror and fired its pulse. The powerful beam flashed upward. Like a banking billiard ball, the ray struck the airborne mirror and sped toward the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The first pulse stabbed into the darkness and burned down a Chinese Ghost, shearing off the rear third of the bomber.
A cheer erupted in Romanov’s headphones from NORAD Command. It made him grin.
Another pulse-beam from the Fresno station struck his reflex mirror. It bounced and traveled at the speed of light and missed the targeted bomber by seventeen inches.
Major Romanov heard groans in his headphones. Then a warning light flashed on his control panel. He flipped a switch, studying the readings. The mirror had taken damage, too much according to this. With each accumulated pulse-strike, the odds would increase of a burn-through against the plane.
“This is Echo Three,” Romanov said. “My mirror had degraded three percent beyond the safety limit.” Time seemed to stretch as Romanov awaited orders.
“Keep on standby,” the NORAD colonel said. “We may need you before this is over.”
The Fresno ABM station held its fire. Major Romanov banked his giant plane and took it out of position, lowering his altitude. They might need him before the night was through. That meant they might bounce the laser off his degraded mirror, possibly destroying his craft.
I might die.
It was a fearful thought, one he hadn’t envisioned while taxiing down the extra-long runway early this evening. He might die, but he was here to fight for his country.
The damned Chinese, why are they invading our country anyway?
The second Reflex interceptor moved up into position. Two and a quarter minutes later, the Fresno station fired its laser. The beam bounced off the new plane. This time, the pulse-laser struck true and burned down its second Ghost bomber, igniting the craft’s fuel and causing a spectacular midair explosion.
DONNER PASS, CALIFORNIA
Captain Lee watched in horror as stealth bomber after stealth bomber perished to the great beam firing down from the heavens.
The Americans tech was better than the country had a right to possess. This was terrifying.
He increased speed and spilled chaff. He fired two decoy missiles. Each emitted strong signals. Somehow, the Americans could see them and he ha
d to confuse the enemy.
Captain Lee gritted his teeth, willing his bomber to go faster. If he was going to die, he wanted to deliver his cargo. He needed another three minutes. He turned control over to the aircraft’s AI by pressing a button. The Ghost would jink now, maneuvering in a hopefully unpredictable manner. If the Americans used space lasers, as they must be since the beam slashed downward from above, those took time to beam to target. In that delay from sighting and firing was his slender hope.
The next few minutes of violent maneuvering brought vomit acid burning to the back of Captain Lee’s throat. The terrible laser destroyed most of the stealth bombers until only his plane survived. Twice more the laser struck, missing his plane by centimeters.
Now he had reached the maximum range of his missiles to the two targets. Captain Lee’s fingers moved fast, arming the missiles as the AI jinked again. The great beam flashed a third time, and once more, the Americans missed his plane.
Captain Lee laughed in nervous desperation. “Launching,” he whispered.
The first missile detached, causing the Ghost to wobble. Then a great flame appeared, and the nuclear-tipped missile flashed toward the Donner Pass.
Captain Lee detached his second missile, and the Ghost wobbled once more. At that moment the great beam bouncing off a Reflex interceptor found the captain’s plane. It burned through the canopy, instantly killing Lee and cutting the Ghost in two.
As the Chinese Air Force captain died, his second missile ignited, rocketing toward the distant target of Beckwourth Pass.
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN, COLORADO
Invasion: California Page 38
