Battlefield Pacific

by James Rosone

  Colonel Orlov’s radar warning alarm blared in his ear. Someone was trying to get a lock on them, and he had to do his best to throw them off.

  As soon as the light from his bay door turned from green to red, he banked the aircraft hard to head toward home. Then he dropped back down to 40 meters above the water and increased speed to nearly Mach 2. His heart pumped wildly.

  A painful minute went by. Suddenly, the radar warbling in his ear stopped. Orlov sighed in relief—they were in the clear again.

  When he had placed a hundred kilometers between them and the spot where they had been detected by an enemy radar, he slowed the bomber down to its cruise speed to conserve fuel. Thankfully, a refueling tanker would be waiting for them once they entered the Barents Sea area and the safety of Russian airspace.

  *******

  St. James, London

  Oxford and Cambridge Club

  The following morning was relatively cool as the sun finally rose and burned away the remnant of the morning twilight. Anthony Chattem depressed the call button on the outdoor table of the Oxford and Cambridge Club. Despite being a senior member of the British government, he hadn’t been whisked away when the capital had been attacked, and for that, he was supremely irate. Seeing that he was considered not important enough to protect by the Tories, he opted to go have breakfast at one of his favorite private locations.

  Mr. Chattem liked to eat breakfast at the exclusive club at least once a month. He particularly liked drinking his tea on the outside terrace. The cool morning air was always invigorating before a busy day.

  His Chief of Staff greeted him somberly. “It’s a shame what happened last night, isn’t it, Mr. Chattem?” he remarked.

  Chattem nodded, doing his best to conceal any hint of happiness at the misfortunes of others.

  “The thing is—this is going to play well in the press and with my supporters,” he mused. He imagined a headline splashed across the front page of the paper. Tories Secretly Hope Labour Leader Gets Killed in Russian Raid.

  Looking out into the city, Mr. Chattem could see the pillars of smoke still hanging in the air from the multiple cruise missiles that hit a series of defense and government buildings across the city. The maître-d’ opened the door to the terrace, and a colonel from the Ministry of Defence walked out to join them, along with a couple members of Chattem’s security detail.

  The MOD colonel cleared his throat to gain Chattem’s attention. “Sir, it is highly recommended that we move you to a more secure facility,” he announced. “We’re not sure if the attack on London is over.”

  Mr. Chattem stared him down with daggers. “Interesting how the government only deems it necessary for me to be moved to a protected bunker several hours after the attack, as opposed to before the missiles landed,” he replied angrily.

  The colonel’s expression did not change, which further annoyed Chattem. “I think if the Russians were going to launch another surprise attack like they did last night, they would have done it already,” he replied.

  The colonel remained stoic and unchanged. Chattem was boiling now. “Answer me this, Colonel—how was it the Russians were able to get close enough to hit us with cruise missiles and not be detected? How is it our defensive systems were unable to intercept these missiles, as they had in the past?”

  The colonel stood there for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something course, but he managed to hold his tongue. Instead, he let out a soft sigh and replied, “A Spetsnaz team disabled our early-warning system just as the enemy bombers fired their cruise missiles. By the time we were able to get other radar systems operational to fill in the gaps in coverage, the enemy missiles were raining down on our cities.”

  Chattem grunted. “What targets were hit here in London, and what were the casualty figures?” he asked. He planned on using the information in his upcoming press conference he would call later in the day.

  The colonel pulled a notepad out of his breast pocket and flipped it open. “The Ministry of Defence building, Her Majesty's Treasury, Scotland Yard, Houses of Parliament, Waterloo Station, Kings Cross Station, and the Lloyd’s Building were all severely damaged, along with several other buildings in the insurance district. The remaining five missiles hit Heathrow Airport, causing significant damage to Terminal 5 and Terminal 3.”

  The colonel paused for a second before continuing. “It appears the intent of the Russian attack was twofold: first to damage our transportation system, which is why they targeted Waterloo, Kings Cross, and Heathrow, and second to go after our government centers to prove the MOD could not protect them and the population. As to casualties, fortunately, the attacks happened late in the evening, so it could have been worse. So far, there have been roughly two thousand people killed, and almost the same number injured. Most of those who perished died at Heathrow and the two train stations.”

  “This is a disaster for the Tories,” thought Mr. Chattem. He had to work to keep his face calm as he realized that he might really have a legitimate chance of unseating PM Edwards. Then a sick feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. “Could Max’s backers have caused this?” he wondered. He didn’t think it was possible that they were really that powerful and influential.

  “Very well, Colonel. We’ll come with you to the bunker,” he conceded. “Please lead the way.” He got up and followed the colonel to a waiting vehicle.

  Asian Rivals

  Washington, D.C.

  General John Bennet grabbed his backpack from the overhead bin and headed toward the baggage claim. He was feeling a bit disoriented after his long flight from South Korea. Even though he had mastered the skill of sleeping anywhere, anytime—a necessity in the military—the time change was throwing him off. He wasn’t sure if it was day or nighttime anymore. It didn’t help that he still didn’t know why he had been called to meet with the President. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or frightened about losing his job.

  When he arrived at Carousel 3, he heard a familiar voice call to him, “John!”

  He turned around. His wife, Stacy, and three youngest sons were standing there, waving to get his attention.

  A flood of emotions washed over him. Bennet hadn’t seen his family for months, and he hadn’t been expecting to see them during this trip. Despite the tough guy persona, he shed a few tears as they all hugged each other.

  General Bennet relaxed a bit as they all rode together in the black Chevy Suburban that had been sent to pick them up.

  “They sent my family—this has to bode well for my meeting with Gates,” he thought.

  Bennet allowed himself to chat with his sons about school, girls, and their sports teams. He held his wife’s hand and shot her a few smiles in between his sons’ chattiness; she never got a word in edgewise when they got together after a long break.

  Meanwhile, he kept mulling over what he would possibly be discussing with the President. He secretly hoped that maybe this meeting might result in him finally getting what he really wanted, which was to get General Cutter’s Marines assigned to him for the invasion of China. They had already succeeded in securing the Russian Far East, pushing the Russian forces all the way back to Khabarovsk; he was certain that if he had been able to keep them in the fight for a few more months, they would have been able to reinvade China and push through to Shenyang. Maybe they could have even threatened Beijing…but his multiple requests to the SecDef had not gone in his favor. So far, General Cutter’s forces were being consolidated in the Northern Mariana Islands and Guam to retake the Philippines and Taiwan before the Chinese could turn them into island fortresses.

  The Suburban pulled through the security check point in front of the White House, and he was startled out of his sea of swirling thoughts.

  “Dad, this is so cool!” exclaimed Tyrone, his youngest son.

  General Bennet remembered the first time he had seen 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.—it was pretty awe-inspiring.

  “I’m excited to share your first White House trip wit
h you, son,” he said with a smile.

  Once they made it through the security checks to the inside of the building, Bennet’s family was brought around the facility with a very comprehensive tour. Finally, they ended up in the Oval Office. At that point, even his sixteen-year-old son, Elijah, who was rarely impressed by anything, was basically awestruck.

  “Dad, you just earned me some serious points with the girls at school,” he commented.

  “Glad I could help,” Bennet answered with a smirk.

  “Dad, Dad, can I sit in the President’s chair and get Mom to take a picture?” he asked.

  Just then, President Gates walked in.

  “Sure,” Gates answered, smiling.

  “Mr. President, it’s an honor to meet you, Sir,” said Tyrone in awe.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, too, Tyrone,” he responded cheerfully. He greeted the whole family with handshakes and kissed Stacy Bennet on the cheek. Then he posed with Tyrone at the desk, pretending to hand him an important document, as if Bennet’s son were the President and not the other way around.

  “It’s just so surreal watching the President interact so naturally with my family,” thought General Bennet. Gates happily did selfies with Elijah and his thirteen-year-old, Isaac, as well.

  The SecDef walked over to Bennet. He leaned in. “I’ll bet you’re wondering what in the heck is going on, aren’t you?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “Um, yeah, I think you could say that,” he responded, not sure what else to say.

  “We are shifting to your theater,” Secretary Castle explained. “You’ve been in charge of operations in Korea—and by the way, the President has been impressed with your work there—but we need a new commander to take over as overall commander of Asia. The President asked me to nominate you.”

  General Bennet didn’t respond. He was a bit stunned.

  “You’re going to be given your fifth star,” said the SecDef, half punching him in the shoulder. “You’re going to be only the seventh person in American military history to be a five-star general, and the first of African-American decent. If I weren’t the Secretary of Defense and your boss, I’d be really jealous of you right now.”

  A White House photographer came in and took some official photographs of Bennet’s family with the President before his wife and sons were escorted to an anteroom and asked to wait while Gates spoke with Bennet privately.

  The room was suddenly quiet with just the four of them there: the President, his Chief of Staff, the Secretary of Defense, and General Bennet. They all took a seat.

  “General Bennet, I’m sure the SecDef here gave you a little heads-up as to why you are here,” said Gates.

  Bennet nodded.

  “I’ve been supremely impressed with your ability to handle what’s been thrown at you,” the President continued. “You’ve had to liaise and coordinate with the Japanese and South Korean governments, something that I know has not been easy, considering the two countries’ past histories. With your assistance, these two nations are fighting side-by-side to defeat the Russians and the Chinese. You helped orchestrate the defeat of the North Korean regime, and you held things together against all odds while our focus had been on Europe.”

  Bennet held up his hand, ready to protest and say something about it being a “team effort,” but the President spoke before he could object.

  “I don’t know that many other people who could have handled that the way you did, General Bennet. Therefore, I am going to promote you to be America’s seventh five-star general, and you will become the Pacific theater supreme commander. All US and Allied forces will now be under your command.” The President paused for effect before he continued. “I’m hereby ordering you to defeat the People’s Republic of China and the Eastern Alliance. You’re charged with liberating the Philippines and Taiwan in addition to your objectives in the Russian Far East and the Koreas. Do you accept this promotion and position?” he asked.

  Bennet didn’t skip a beat. “Absolutely, I accept, Mr. President. It’s been an honor to serve under you as our Commander-in-Chief. I won’t let you or the country down, Sir. Of that you can be assured.”

  “Excellent,” responded the President. “Be warned, though, Bennet, I hold my commanders to a high standard, and I never hesitate to replace commanders that are not up to the task. I expect you to hold that same stance with your own command. I want you to think about who you need to promote or move to a different position and utilize your people to the best of their abilities.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Bennet, already mulling over how he would form up his new command.

  “As you know, I’m not a military man,” conceded Gates. “That’s why I have Castle, and now you, to implement the execution of this war. Remember, we need to apply maximum pressure on the Chinese at all times. I know you wanted to keep General Cutter’s Marines in the Russian Far East, but right now, we need his Marines in the South Pacific. I need you to do whatever is necessary to make sure he’s successful in liberating the Philippines and Taiwan.”

  The President paused for a moment, clearly giving some thought as to what to say next. “Cutter’s success is your success, and his failure is your failure as well. You two need to work together on this. He’s a good commander—use him and his skill set to meet your goals. Understood?” he asked, in a tone that was more of a warning.

  General Bennet smiled. “I understand, Mr. President. I see you’ve heard of the rivalry between me and General Cutter. We have had a bit of a competition between us, to be sure, but we are also good friends.” He thought about his eldest son, Isaiah, who had joined the Marines against his advice. Cutter had moved him to be his aide as a personal favor; it wouldn’t keep him entirely out of danger, but he wouldn’t be an infantry platoon commander on the front lines, either. Bennet definitely owed him one. “The two of us will win Asia for you, Mr. President. You can count on that,” he asserted.

  “Excellent,” replied Gates, clearly relieved by the response he had received. “Then I believe we have a press announcement to make, and my wife has arranged for a special dinner for all of us—well, Jim and his wife, Liam Greeson and his better half, and our families.” He smiled and stood up. The other men followed suit.

  When General Bennet entered the room to reunite with his family, he found his sons chatting excitedly with the President’s son, Connor Gates. They were all comparing notes about their favorite computer games.

  He walked over to his wife and chuckled. “I guess we can catch up now,” he joked.

  ******

  South Korea

  Camp Humphreys

  General Bennet had enjoyed his whirlwind trip to D.C. and the time with his family, but the task at hand had quickly called him back to the reality of war. It was time to get down to the brass tacks of destroying the Eastern Alliance.

  He spent most of the long flight on his way back thinking of how he was going to form up his army and who he was going to promote. Bennet contemplated for some time and then came to the obvious conclusion that he needed to promote his three corps commanders: Lieutenant General Tony Wilde, Lieutenant General Jacob LaFine, and Major General Amy Cooper.

  Amy Cooper was probably the most obvious choice for a promotion, and not just because she was the first woman to command a combat arms corps during the war. It was no accident that she had become a general to begin with. She had served valiantly as an attack helicopter pilot during the first year of Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, and then during the invasion of Iraq, she had become a battalion commander of an attack helicopter unit. Her unit had single-handedly destroyed an Iraqi Republican Guard tank unit that was on its way to attack her US brothers-in-arms. She had gone on to serve two more tours in Iraq. In 2006, she’d gained a bit of notoriety when one of her wingmen had been shot down and she’d landed her helicopter, somehow managing to strap the pilot and copilot of the downed chopper onto the wings of her helicopter, saving them from certain death. It wasn’t long aft
er that that she’d received her first general’s star and completed her obligatory tour at the Pentagon.

  Prior to the start of this current war, she had served as the operations commander at US Army Europe. When the Russians had launched their surprise attack, she had been wounded, along with most of her staff. After spending four months recovering from the wounds incurred during those missile attacks, she had been given command of a newly formed infantry division in the States. Her division had fought well during the Chinese counterattack, and she had landed on General Bennet’s radar. He had promoted her to be one of his three corps commanders, and she had only continued to impress.

  Lieutenant General Tony Wilde had also been serving as one of Bennet’s corps commanders, out in the Russian Far East. He had earned a PhD at Harvard, although he had been highly intelligent way before that. As a battalion commander during the invasion of Iraq in 2003, and a brigade commander during the infamous Iraq Troop Surge in 2007, he had distinguished himself above his peers and managed to earn a Silver Star.

  Rounding out the group was Lieutenant General Jacob LaFine, an Army Ranger who had also earned a Silver Star when he’d led a rescue effort to recover a downed helicopter. He had worked as General Petreaus’ aide during the troop surge, and later worked as an aide to the Secretary of Defense. After a lot of high-level training, he had become the deputy commander of ISAF forces in Afghanistan. General Bennet was grateful to have him on his team.

  It wasn’t long before Bennet was sitting in a room with all three of them and their staff officers. As Bennet’s aide brought in a fresh pot of coffee for everyone, they all took turns congratulating him on his new promotion to Supreme Allied Commander of Asia. The aide returned with some sandwiches—this was going to be a working lunch. General Bennet allowed some chitchat to continue until everyone had their food and drink situated, then he tapped his knuckles on the table as if calling a meeting to order.