by James Rosone
Pat smiled. He saw what Hui-ju was trying to do. “Right to the point with you. I like that—a leader who knows what they want and moves decisively for it. Our goal in Asia isn’t just to defeat the People’s Republic of China, but to remove the communist regime altogether. We’re going to rebalance Asia and turn it back toward democracy. We want to ensure that communist China doesn’t have the ability to threaten world security again. Our goal is to replace President Xi with you, Madam President. We want to unify China under your leadership.”
She smiled. Now it wasn’t just a rumor.
He continued, “Now, that isn’t going to be an easy or quick goal to attain, and it’s going to cost the lives of many of my countrymen. When the PRC is defeated, we, the Allies, are going to divide China into governing sectors, just as the Allies did with Germany at the end of World War II. Your government will administer Beijing for several years while you get a government in place and prepare to take control of the country. The Allies will keep an occupation force that will work in conjunction with your government to ensure stability and security while your government begins to take root. Our goal is for you to hold elections sometime within the first five years of Chinese unification.”
“Our forces will continue to stay in place following that election to help ensure a peaceful transition and make sure any potential communist agitators aren’t able to interfere with the transition or attempt to seize power. My goal is to return full control of China to the duly elected government by the end of ten years. We’ll keep a much smaller advisory group and peacekeepers for additional ten years as needed to support the government, much like the Allies did in West Germany and Japan. Are these terms acceptable, Hui-ju?” asked Gates.
President Hung sat back on the couch, trying to temper her response so as not to appear overly joyful. While she didn’t like the idea of China being broken down into administrative zones by the Allies, she also recognized the need for it. Getting to the point that her government had the full support and backing of the people would take time.
“I can work with those terms, Patrick,” she responded. “I believe this is going to be the beginning of a great new friendship and relationship between our countries.”
“Excellent. What I’m going to need your help with is to work with members of my embassy staff from Beijing to begin crafting social media posts, policy positions and papers advocating for unification of China, but under your leadership. Our diplomats will work with you to help foster support among the Allied nations and garner acceptance for you as the rightful ruler of China,” Gates said. He signaled with his hands for the minister and secretary of defense to join the conversation.
Many additional details and coordination needed to be worked out, and they were very limited on time. Gates would be flying back to the US once he finished his next meeting with the leaders of Japan and South Korea. Both nations had been taking a terrible beating since the start of the war; however, they had also successfully mobilized their populations to support the war effort to defeat China.
Battle of Kaliningrad
Mons, Belgium
SHAPE Headquarters
Spring had nearly arrived in Belgium as the winter snows finally disappeared, revealing brown grass that patiently awaited the new season's rain and sunshine. Looking at up at the midday sun, General James Cotton, the Global Defense Force Commander Europe, enjoyed the warmth of its rays after spending the last week deep underground in one planning meeting after another.
“I need to get outside more often. I can’t stay cooped up in that bunker all the time,” General Cotton thought as he walked around the command center perimeter. He managed to ignore his private security detail, who was never far away.
While the war in Asia had been raging for nearly four months, the war in Europe was ongoing, albeit at a slower pace than in Asia. The Russians had largely pushed the Allies out of Estonia and Latvia but had been unable to remove them from Lithuania and relieve their beleaguered garrison in Kaliningrad. Cotton’s subordinate commanders had urged him to capture the Russian enclave in Kaliningrad, but he had resisted the urge up to this point since the small territory held very little strategic value or relevancy once it had been neutralized.
With the Baltic Sea now cleared of Russian naval forces, including the submarines they had positioned there, the Allies were now making heavier use of the Allied Baltic ports. This greatly reduced the distance needed to travel to supply the front lines. In less than four months, the Allies would launch a massive invasion of Russia, and the shorter they could make their supply lines, the easier it would be to keep the grand army on the move. Hence, Cotton was now planning to invade Kaliningrad.
General Cotton turned away from the warmth of the midday sun and began his trek back down into the bowels of the underground complex that made up his command center, toward the high-tech wizardry that felt more like a dungeon with each passing month. As he walked toward the elevator, a guard placed his hand in front of the door sensor to hold it open for him. He stepped into the elevator with one of his aides, closing his eyes for a moment and bracing himself for the controlled chaos he was about to walk into.
“General Cotton!” a British colonel shouted at him the moment the elevator door opened. It was almost as if he had perched nearby, waiting for Cotton to return so he could be the first to bombard him with a question or update.
Cotton took a deep breath, then patiently responded, “What have you got for me?”
“Sir, we just received a report from the port in Hamburg. One of the newly arrived freighters from the Atlantic convoys had just docked at the pier to offload munitions when a mine or some other explosive detonated. That explosion set off a chain of secondary explosions, which destroyed the heavy cranes at the pier in addition to the ship. The shell of the ship’s charred remains has settled next to the pier, which is going to prevent any further ships from docking,” he explained frantically.
The general sighed deeply. This was just the latest act of sabotage that the Russians had been able to carry out since the start of the war. “How long until they can remove the ship and get the pier operational again?” he asked.
The colonel’s face turned red. “I’ll have to get back to you with that information, Sir,” he responded, rushing off to find out the answer.
General Cotton walked over to the big board and looked at the positions of the various units scattered across the front lines. The Russians had moved nearly 300,000 soldiers to the front. Most of these were reservists and newly conscripted soldiers, who were largely making do with antiquated T-72s and T-62 tanks.
Cotton grunted. “Even an old tank can be dangerous,” he thought.
“What’s the status of General Ripton’s Fifth Corps? Are his units set in their positions and ready to start the attack after the preparatory artillery strike is completed?” he asked, speaking broadly to anyone who might overhear him.
A French colonel, part of the operations staff, turned to respond to the question. “Yes, Sir. The orders were received by them earlier, and now they are waiting on the execution order. The offensive should be starting momentarily.”
Cotton turned his attention to several of the wall monitors at the front of the room to observe the battle. Kaliningrad was completely surrounded, which meant that the dozen Global Hawk surveillance drones loitering around the enclave would be able to provide real time images of the entire scene.
As he watched the screens, the battle officially began. A massive artillery barrage lit up most of the known enemy positions. As each round impacted on its target, General Cotton heard the fire support officers calling for adjustments. While the artillery was going to work, a few dozen Reaper drones had moved into the battlespace; they used their precision-guided missiles to hit some of the trickier targets inside the high-density residential areas, minimizing the likelihood of civilian casualties. Fortunately, most of the civilians had left the city once the Allies had encircled them and cut off any source of supp
lies.
An hour into the aerial and artillery bombardment, Cotton signaled for them to send the ground forces in. It was still amazing to him that he could watch a skirmish take place in real-time while sitting in a bunker several hundred kilometers away.
A second after issuing the order for the ground forces to start their attack, the drone feeds suddenly cut out, leaving everyone to stare blankly at the now-black screens. While they were all still in a state of shock, the rest of the computer screens in the command center cut out, displaying the proverbial “blue screen of death.” Text began to scroll across the screens, displaying the message, “Death is coming for you! Surrender while you can!”
Cotton yelled to his communications and cyber-warfare groups, “Find out what just happened to our systems, and get them back online now!”
*******
Polish-Russian Border
Command Sergeant Major Luke Childers had been released from the Army hospital at Landstuhl just prior to New Year’s. After taking a couple of weeks of leave to travel home and see friends and family, he was ready to get back to the job of training soldiers to defeat the Russians and bring this war to a close.
While at home, Luke had toured the damage to Air Force Plant 4, which was located just east of downtown Fort Worth, Texas. The Lockheed, Pratt and Whitney Engine facility there had been heavily damaged by a Russian Spetsnaz team, two weeks prior to him coming home. It was all everyone was talking about, and it was really no surprise. A massive gunfight had taken place there when Russian Special Forces had encountered a ragtag group of Texans. A small group had been celebrating the retirement of a colleague when the attack had started. Within a minute of hearing the first explosions off in the distance, a couple of the men, who had previously served in Iraq, recognized the noise as mortars landing nearby. Many of those at the retirement party and BBQ also had rifles on the gun racks in their trucks and proceeded to organize a small group to go put a stop to the attack. While many of the civilians in the spoiling attack had been killed, their heroics had prevented the Spetsnaz from continuing to bomb the facility. Three Russians had been killed in the attack, two more had been captured, and six had escaped to live and fight another day.
When Childers had seen the damage to the plant that was so close to his family’s home, it had angered him immensely. He had joined the military to protect his country, to avenge those who had been killed on September 11, 2001. Now, fellow countrymen from his own hometown had been killed by foreign invaders. After an exceptionally sobering day, he’d met up with a few of his friends at their favorite watering hole and proceeded to get very drunk and do his best to forget about the horrors he had seen and done in the name of defending his country.
A few days after the attack, when Childers had reported to duty, he had been assigned to the squadron headquarters as the new command sergeant major. In peacetime, his primary duties would have been to advise the senior command officers about personnel issues and facilitate communication with the troop first sergeants. As it was, his new job was to get the squadron trained and ready for combat. Following their escape from Kiev, the entire regiment had been sent to Germany to regroup and reorganize, which turned out to be very necessary as their group doubled in size, mostly with raw recruits fresh from basic training, and they needed all hands on deck to get them ready.
The next two months were spent drilling the young soldiers in how to fight in an urban environment and in a static defense. One strategy Childers implemented within each of the troops was two half-day lectures that went over after-action reviews of previous battles the squadron had taken part in up to that point. He wanted the younger soldiers to listen to what had happened during the battles with the Russians and to ask questions, to learn what had gone right, what had gone wrong, and where they had just gotten lucky. If they could save the lives of his new soldiers, then passing that knowledge on to them was worth taking the training time to do so.
After months of waiting, Childers finally received the news he had been waiting to hear. Lieutenant Colonel Alex Schoolman walked up to him as he was scanning the perimeter with his binoculars and got his attention. “Sergeant Major, we just received word from headquarters. The attack is a go,” he announced. He signaled for one of his staff officers to pass the information on to the rest of the squadron.
“‘Bout time we get this war back on again,” Luke thought. He nodded in acknowledgment to his boss, but then quickly resumed his task of looking across the border with his binoculars.
As the artillery bombardment lifted, the Allied forces moved across the border toward their various objectives. Dozens of the squadron’s armored vehicles sprinted forward, following the UK’s 7th Armoured Brigade and their Challenger 2 tanks. The Stryker command vehicle from which Childers was observing the battle suddenly lurched forward, and they joined the column of advancing British vehicles. Only ten minutes after crossing the border, the British tanks had already encountered the remnants of the Russian units who had been left to defend the small territory.
Boom! Bang! Ratatat! The chattering of machine guns and explosions grew increasingly louder as Childer’s vehicle drove toward the action. Suddenly, a loud explosion shoved their Stryker violently to one side, jostling everyone inside. “What the hell was that?” shouted Childers.
The gunner manning the automated 20mm autocannon replied, “That lead British tank just blew up. It looked like a missile strike from the sky.”
Everyone craned their heads back and looked up at the sky above them. “Could a Russian fighter or helicopter have gotten through our air cover?” Childers wondered.
A moment later, the air was pierced with another loud explosion. The colonel yelled to his driver, “Stop the vehicle!”
Colonel Schoolman quickly grabbed his radio and yelled to the rest of the squadron, “All stop!”
He turned to Childers and barked, “We have to figure out what’s going on!”
Childers stood up and scanned the skies for the threat. At that moment, another missile streaked down and hit a third British tank, blowing the turret clean off.
“There! I see it. What the—? It’s one of our Reaper drones that’s firing on us!” Childers shouted, now angry that whoever was controlling that drone had just blown up multiple Allied tanks.
A moment later, the lieutenant who was in charge of the squadron’s communications platoon spoke up. “Colonel, I just received a report from regiment. They said they were informed the Russians have apparently taken control of some of our Reaper drones and are using them against us.”
The colonel’s nose and eyebrows wrinkled up in disgust. “What do they want us to do about it?” he yelled.
A second later, the lieutenant replied, “They said to keep the attack going. The Air Force is working on the problem.”
In the few seconds that it took the frazzled lieutenant to relay that information, one of the Reaper drones exploded in spectacular fashion as one of their fighters swooped in and blew it out of the sky.
“It does look like the Air Force is on top of it, Sir,” Childers said, pointing to the small smoke cloud in the sky where the drone had just been.
“Order all units to continue the attack. Those blasted hackers—they just cost us several tanks!” The colonel was clearly fired up. His face was red with anger, and a vein on the side of his forehead was visibly pulsating.
“I’m glad he’s on my side,” thought Childers.
When they got closer to the burned-out wrecks of the Challenger tanks, they suddenly came into contact with some sporadic small-arms fire. The soldier manning the automated turret swiveled the gun in the direction of the incoming bullets and spotted several Russian soldiers manning a heavy machine gun in a burned-out building, shooting at a group of British soldiers who were advancing toward their structure.
Childers leaned down to the soldier. “See if you can’t give those guys some help and take that gun position out,” he gently suggested.
The young soldie
r looked up at the sergeant major and just nodded. This was the first time the kid was going to use the gun in battle, and he looked nervous. Allowing his training to take over, the soldier sighted in on the enemy position and depressed the firing button. A short burst from his 20mm cannon slammed into the building. The first burst was a bit high and off target. The young soldier recentered and tried again, this time scoring a direct hit, silencing the gun position.
“Good job, soldier,” said Childers. “Do it just like that every time. Make sure your fields of fire are clear and engage the enemy. You may have just saved a few soldiers’ lives by taking that gun position out, so it’s important that you don’t hesitate in the future when you see a threat like that. OK?” He wanted to make sure the young soldier knew he wasn’t in training any more—he couldn’t second-guess things.
Smiling and obviously feeling a lot more confident, the young soldier answered, “Yes, Sergeant Major. I understand. I’ll do better next time.”
Forty minutes after crossing the border, the squadron had now moved to the outskirts of Chernyakhovsk. There were two airfields in the vicinity that they had been charged with securing. One of them had been a Russian strategic nuclear base prior to the war, and there was still some question as to whether or not the Russians still had nuclear weapons at the facility.
While they maneuvered toward the air base, they started to hear the distinctive popping of a shoot-out in a nearby neighborhood. Schoolman pointed to the area and asked, “What unit is over there?”
