Keene had only known Boz for a short time, but he believed he knew him well enough to know that Boz wouldn’t just bail on them. Or on the country. He decided to let it go. “I’ve been thinking. If—scratch that—when we push the Chinese back, it’s not going to sit well with their command. You and I both know there’s only one reason why they’re going to continue to advance.”
“They need to take Washington,” Jennings answered for him.
“That’s right. And if they can’t take it, what’s the next best thing?”
“Yeah,” Jennings said. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.”
“Kevin, we’ve spent the last twenty-four hours drawing our citizens east of the mountain range because we’ve told them it’s the only place they would be safe. The Chinese have already shown that they are willing to use a nuke.”
“I agree,” Jennings said. “I’ve already discussed this with President Walker.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. The man has completely shut down. I actually think he’s suffering from some form of shock. I’m having the medical staff look at him right now.”
“Any improvement on President Grant?”
“Not much. His breathing is still labored, but they’re saying that his brain function seems to be increasing.”
“That’s good.” Then, “Even if this works, they have to take out Washington.”
“I know it. So how do we stop it?”
Keene had been thinking about it since he’d arrived in Albany. “They could launch a small surface-to-surface missile. But the warhead won’t be that big. They wouldn’t take the chance of bringing it by the ground. Too easy to stop that. That leaves only three ways they can get it there. One, it’s already there. I doubt that that is the case. They wouldn’t have been able to keep that quiet. Someone, somewhere, would have seen or heard something.”
“I agree.”
“Two, they bring it in by nuclear sub.”
“I don’t think they can,” Jennings said. “We had those U-boats in South Carolina taken out, literally, seconds after they surfaced. They can’t take a chance of that happening again.”
“I agree,” Keene said. “So that leaves the third option.”
“They fly it in.”
“They fly it in,” Keene repeated.
“So then the next question is, from where?” Jennings said.
“From somewhere near Montreal,” Keene answered. “They’ll have a Stealth loaded up somewhere away from the advancing troops. They won’t take the chance that it gets compromised. And it’s not going to be Montreal airport because they know we can air strike that place easily if we begin to push them back.” He thought for a minute and then continued. “I need you to find every airstrip between here and Montreal that can handle an H-8 Stealth.”
“Remember what I said about Taylor doing something stupid?” Jennings said.
“Yeah, she reminded you of me.”
“Exactly.”
“Just find me that airstrip. You can yell at me later.”
“I’ll call you back.”
They spoke for another minute before Keene ended the call and sent word out that he wanted a satellite video conference in ten minutes with every commanding officer of every division they had standing by. He found a young corporal who led him to a room where the conference would be set up.
“Get me Colonel Givens,” Keene told the corporal, referring to the executive officer who served directly under McIntyre at the 101st. “Tell him I need him here five minutes ago.”
“Yes, sir.”
Givens popped his head in less than a minute later. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, Colonel.” He gestured for the man to take a seat. “I’m giving you command of the operation.”
“Sir, I—”
Keene held up a hand to hold him off. “I’ve already talked about it with Jennings. He agrees. Listen.” Keene closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I’m not the guy to do this. I’ve been out for too long. Too much has changed. You know these men. They serve under you. I’m a CIA agent. And I’m good at it. And that’s why I’m giving command over to you. From this point on, you will coordinate directly with the Sec-Nav. In just a few minutes, we’re going on a video conference. Sec-Nav will be on, and he will lay out the operation. Got it?”
Colonel Givens nodded. “Yes, sir. Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Go,” Keene said.
“I appreciate all you’ve done. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, Colonel.”
“But I also know you wouldn’t give up command like this unless you had a good reason. What’s going on?”
A thin smile creased Keene’s lips. The colonel was perceptive. “This is classified. So it stays between me, you, and Jennings, until otherwise stated.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The Chinese won’t stop, even if we stop them here. They have to take out Washington. Otherwise, we’re still a threat. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so, sir.”
“Good, then I need you to find me the five best men here. SEALs and Rangers. We’re going to make sure that the Chinese don’t have a plan B.”
“Let me look through my roster, sir. I’ll have them back here in twenty minutes.”
“After the conference,” Keene reminded him.
Just then the corporal returned. “They’re ready for us, sir,” he said. He opened the laptop on the table and clicked a few buttons. In just a few seconds, several little windows appeared with officers in them. The Secretary of the Navy, Bob Sykes, was in the last window.
“Hello,” the Sec-Nav said. “For those of you whom I’ve never met, I’m Secretary Sykes….”
The conference lasted only a few minutes. Keene officially handed off command to Colonel Givens, and then Sykes laid out the plan of operation from this point forward. When they were done, everyone signed off, and the computer was shut down.
“I’ll be back with your men in just a few minutes,” Givens said.
Keene nodded and picked up the sat-phone.
“You find my airstrip?”
“I’ve pulled satellite imagery from a couple different fields close to Montreal from the last forty-eight hours. There’s only one that can handle an H-8—Massena International-Richards field. And there seems to be a lot of activity there. The whole town has been leveled. The only reason they’d hit a town like that with so much force is if they wanted it all to themselves. It’s roughly sixty miles southwest of Montreal and just across the river in New York.”
“That’s it,” Keene said. “Far enough away from Montreal but close enough to send it up if need be.”
“Yep. And listen, I can’t say for sure, but one of the images captured looks like an aircraft. It’s covered by a tarp or something. But analysis on the dimensions and the shape of it fit an H-8.”
“Okay, then. I’ll let you know what we find.”
“Good luck, Jon. I’ll say a prayer for you and the men.”
Of all the things his boss had ever said over the years, that was the single most unexpected thing he had ever heard. “I didn’t know you believed in all that stuff.”
“I’m starting to rethink a lot of things,” Jennings said.
“Yeah, seems to be a lot of that going on around here.” He hung up the phone.
Givens returned a few moments later. He had five men in tow as he entered the room. “General Keene, this is Ramirez, Horn, Kirkpatrick, Jenkins, and Foust,” Givens said, introducing the men.
Keene looked them over. He knew the type: highly trained, specialized operatives who were possibly the most physically and mentally fit human beings on the planet. “Thank you for coming gentlemen. Colonel Givens, that will be all.”
The colonel left without another word. When the door was shut, Keene motioned for them to take a seat. He had already pulled up the satellite imagery that Jennings had found. He turned the laptop ar
ound for the men to see.
“This is Massena, New York. And that,” he said pointing, “is an airstrip big enough to hold a Chinese H-8 Stealth. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The men all looked at the photos of the decimated town and said, “Yes, sir.”
“Good, ‘cause no matter what happens, we are going to make sure that H-8 doesn’t ever leave Massena. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Gear up, gentlemen. We’re rolling out in fifteen.”
CHAPTER 74
Boz stood at the front of the bridge of the HMS Queen Elizabeth, the flagship of the Royal Navy. They had been at sea now for over a day and were getting close to American waters. Boz had been on a lot of carriers before, but this by far was one of the most sophisticated pieces of machinery he’d ever seen. The propulsion and navigation systems alone were state-of-the-art technology. Not even the Americans had anything like this yet. Of course, with the previous two administrations cutting the defense budget by nearly two-thirds, it was no wonder the Brits had finally bested them. And the Queen Elizabeth was just the tip of this spear. The HMS Prince of Wales, the Queen Elizabeth‘s counterpart, was right on their tail, along with twenty-three other warships.
Prime Minister Bungard had been livid when he had gotten word. Pretty much his entire Royal Navy had been hijacked. He had assumed immediately that it was Eli Craig who had arranged all of this. He wasted little time getting Craig on the phone once word got out. He had threatened to hang Craig at the Tower of London when he got back. Bungard said he would bring Craig, and every participating commanding officer with him, up on treason charges and would have them imprisoned for life.
Eli had kept his calm throughout the short conversation but quickly reminded the prime minister that—as he had so eloquently put it—over half his navy had mutinied on him. How did he think that was going to go over at Parliament? The prime minister quickly quieted down after that. Eli continued by telling him that what was done was done and that it should’ve been Bungard’s decision in the first place to help the Americans. Eli had continued, charging that Bungard was a coward and a disgrace to King William and their country. And then he gave the final blow. Eli told him that once the Chinese heard that England was coming to the rescue of the United States, it wouldn’t matter to them who had made the decision. The fact was England was about to wage war on China. The mother country was coming to the aid of her child. And whether Bungard liked it or not, he was in this now, so he’d better figure out how to make this look like it was his idea all along. Or it would be Bungard who was the one being strung up at the Tower of London. That was the end of the conversation, as Bungard slammed the phone down. Within an hour, information came back to the HMS Queen Elizabeth that Bungard had called a special session of Parliament and announced that, along with key strategic leaders—namely, Eli Craig—he had ordered the Royal Navy to lead a covert operation to come to the assistance of the United States.
Though it was well known the Chinese had perhaps the best stealth technology available, the Brits had some pretty good stuff of their own. For the last ten years, teams of Russian, German, and defected Chinese scientists had been acquired to develop what had been first installed on the Queen Elizabeth. When the ship had been commissioned and officially put out to sea, the Royal Navy ran a myriad of ghost operations, testing out the new stealth technology, which had proven nothing but successful. Over the next few years, every ship in the navy had been outfitted with it. And unless the Chinese had developed something new in the last six months, Eli assured Boz that no one should see them coming. Short of someone flying directly over them or another ship literally crossing their path, they were invisible.
There were two problems with that, Boz realized. One, no one knew they were coming. Not even Keene. And there was no way to get word to them. Once the Queen Elizabeth and the fleet had gone dark, that was it. There was no communication outside of ship-to-ship coms. The second problem: they had no idea what they were headed into. They were now only hours away from the American coast and they would have to stay dark until the last possible moment. Once the fighter aircraft took off from the decks, they would be completely visible. And then, it was no turning back. Boz only prayed that they wouldn’t be too late.
The sun had already set, and the cloud cover was thick. Hardly a star in the sky. Eli had just returned to the bridge as Boz was looking out on the horizon.
“Pretty dark out there, mate.”
“Yeah, I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
Eli waved it off. “That’s a good thing. Gonna help us see the coast when we come up on it. Less light up there means we’ll be able to see the landscape better.”
“And who knows what we’re going to see,” Boz said quietly.
Eli put his hand on Boz’s shoulder. “It’s never as bad as you think. You told me that once. Remember?” He turned and pointed to the fleet behind them. “We’ve got a lot of boys back there who are completely sold out. They know that if America falls, the entire world could be next. This isn’t just about your country. It’s about theirs. And they aren’t going to let that happen.”
Boz nodded. He knew his friend was right. The Chinese might not be looking for a world war, but if America fell, they’d get one. Every country on the planet—aside from China’s current allies—would be gearing up for an invasion. And more than likely, they wouldn’t wait. They’d be proactive. And with the nuclear capabilities of other nations, and China’s track record of being irresponsible on every other level of diplomacy, it wouldn’t take long before someone decided that launching them all would be the only option. He hoped and prayed that wasn’t what God was going to allow to happen.
“It’s just sad that it’s had to come to this, Eli.”
“I know, mate. So if God allows us to get out of this alive, we’ll just know we have a lot of work to do.”
Boz patted his friend on the shoulder and left the bridge. He went downstairs and out onto the deck. He walked up and down, looking at the aircraft that were already positioned to take off and head into battle. He felt a huge weight pressing down on him. Boz looked down at his watch. Only two hours left. He found a small bench and sat down. He folded his hands and closed his eyes. And began to pray.
CHAPTER 75
Jennings sat at a conference table with Bob Sykes and President Walker. They had coms up on every unit they had deployed in the southern and Albany regions. The first of the American troops had returned from Afghanistan and had landed at Andrews. They were immediately deployed to the Albany front. More would be returning over the next several hours as the fleet of C-class cargo planes came in, though it would still be several days before the majority of the equipment and troops would make it back. Jennings hoped they could last that long. He was sure they were about to find out. The sun had been down for an hour now and the wait was on.
Jennings thought back to the days of the American Revolution, when war was done differently. Men would line up in regiments in fields, according to ranks, and then march on one another. It wasn’t until a few farmers and hunters realized that they couldn’t win the war by conventional methods that everything had changed. From that moment on, war was no longer conducted in a gentlemanly way. No longer did the armies of generals stand and face one another in open fields, and only during the daytime. Raids on troops and forts began to happen at unexpected times, during the night and on Sundays. The enemy was being targeted in close quarters along roads and in the thicket of the forests. Guerrilla warfare was born.
Jennings looked over at Walker, who was fidgeting and biting his fingernails. Sykes, on the other hand, looked calm and collected. The two men couldn’t be more different. Jennings, for the second time that day, said a silent prayer. He thanked God that at least Walker had the wherewithal to remove himself from this part of it.
The three men sat in silence for another ten minutes before the first radio call came in. A series of mortars had been fire
d on the forward unit in Albany. The Chinese infantry had engaged.
Within seconds, the entire command center at the bunker was in full swing. Sykes began to call out orders and check in with the other stations and regiments. They, too, had been engaged. The mortar shells and gunfire could be heard as they filled the room over the coms monitoring the northern front. Sykes and the Joint Chiefs began barking out commands to the troops. Seconds later, the other half of the coms lit up. The Chinese had coordinated their attacks on the southern front to happen at the same time.
The Chao Qis came first with a massive air attack. Most of Albany and half of Atlanta were leveled in less than an hour, clearing the way for the Chinese infantry and armaments to move. The American troops were taking heavy fire. Jennings listened, as the People’s Liberation Army pressed forward.
The next two hours were painful. While the northern front was holding its own, the southern front was having trouble. With Florida being accessible from the Gulf or the Atlantic, the Chinese continued bringing up ships from the south. Sykes was forced to send what air support he had left to Major General McIntyre, to aid the men and women from Fort Benning and Parris Island, leaving Washington vulnerable. No doubt a thought-out strategy by the Chinese.
Within an hour of Syke’s decision, four Chinese cargo ships appeared off the coast of Delaware, having sneaked past the already weak American coastal blockade. As soon as they were noticed, Sykes sent out four Apaches and two Blackhawks, but the ships had already gotten into Delaware Bay. The Apaches were able to inflict some damage, but the ships had already run aground. The Apache and Blackhawk pilots quickly learned that the ships weren’t ordinary cargo ships. They had been outfitted with surface-to-air defense missiles. Within seconds of the Americans’ arrival, the Chinese launched an attack. The Apaches and Blackhawks continued to evade and attack, but the Chinese ships, carrying infantry, vehicles, and WZ-10 attack helicopters, were being unloaded at an extraordinary pace. It only took a few minutes for the Chinese to get the WZ-10s in the air. The Blackhawks and Apaches, outnumbered and outgunned, were forced to retreat back to Andrews. The pilots had estimated anywhere from three to five thousand Chinese foot soldiers on each vessel. With less than a hundred miles separating them from Washington, DC, it appeared the Chinese would successfully invade the nation’s capitol, regardless of whether or not the Americans held off the northern and southern attack.
The 13: Fall Page 29
