INVASION USA (Book 2) - The Battle For New York

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INVASION USA (Book 2) - The Battle For New York Page 28

by T I WADE


  His cell phone buzzed for a second and then stopped. It had done this a couple of times that afternoon, and this time he had a chance to take it out of his pocket. He looked at the screen and was surprised to see that the weirdly lit up screen had nothing but dashes across it—not what he had expected. “It must have been damaged when I dropped it,” he thought to himself, as the bus pulled up to the wharf next to the aircraft carrier towering up above them and blocking out the sun. He would have to wait until he got to his room before he could get the spare phone out of his luggage.

  He didn’t have time, however, because just then the chairman told all the men that there would be drinks and celebration as the ships left Shanghai and he expected all of them to be with him as they began their journey to invade and capture the other half of the world.

  They entered the carrier through a large cargo door in its side and the captain of the ship escorted them up several flights of stairs to the flight deck. They followed the uniformed men, impeccability dressed in navy white, as they walked across the outside flight deck where several fighters were standing. They walked past them across the wide runway and over to the port side of the ship. It was so high that they felt as if they were on the roof of a massive building.

  The view of Shanghai and the harbor was fantastic once the group reached the port side. They could hear orders being shouted and the grinding of steel chains, as well as new rumblings beneath their feet. It was an hour yet before darkness would creep into the area, and the sun was just getting low over the buildings of the city.

  “Isn’t it a wonderful feeling to be so high and know that the whole world is at your feet, Comrade Wang?” the chairman asked Wang. Wang hadn’t noticed that the chairman had sidled up to him, as he had been deep in thought. “I get the sense that something is troubling you, Comrade.”

  “Something does not feel right, you are correct in sensing my feelings, Comrade Chairman,” replied Wang. “I’ve have this knot in my stomach for a day or two now that something out there is not as it seems. I should have had more phone calls from my men telling me of great victories, but I get somebody different on the phone every time I call. I know this young man Bo Lee Tang, he is a good man and dependable, but I cannot get over the sound of his voice. It didn’t sound like him, yet he could prove everything I asked him, to make sure it actually was him, and not an imposter. Comrade Deng should have called twice today, but I haven’t gotten a call. The squads clearing the runway in New York were meant to contact me directly, as well as contacting Comrade Fung back at headquarters. Yet, I do not receive a phone call but Comrade Feng does. Comrade Chairman, these are our elite troops. It is part of their training to do as ordered.”

  “I understand your need for discipline and information at all times. That is the making of a great leader,” replied Chairman Chunqiao. “But today is a day of glory. This is the only aircraft carrier in the world. Look at her magnificence. Look at her power, Comrade Wang. We are invincible only because we defeated our enemy before we even attacked. The rules of war are to defeat your enemy before you go into battle, and we have done that, Comrade. Yes, there will be problems arising out of the fires and the ashes of the enemy’s defeat, but without their Army, their Navy, and their Air Force, America is a small mouse and we are a large cat. Who is going to win, Comrade? Who is going to win?”

  The ship slowly grumbled and vibrated underneath them. Several tugs slowly moved and guided her to the large entrance to the docks, and beyond that, the open river and then the ocean. A dozen or so sailors began to distribute glasses of champagne to the 16 dignitaries, and they could faintly hear the band still playing across the harbor. The whole mass of shipping began an orderly move towards open water.

  Alarms sounded and dozens of soldiers in dress uniform ran out of doors everywhere, and within two minutes thousands of them lined the complete flight deck of the aircraft carrier, one arm length apart except for where the Politburo was standing. Fanfares sounded out of horns on the ships as they glided by thousands of soldiers waving their goodbyes.

  As the sun set, the Shi Lang left the protection of the harbor, the tugs disengaged, and she and the four smaller warships left for open water to allow the massive container ships enough room to get out of the harbor behind them.

  Once they reached the sea, and at ten knots, the naval ships aimed for Panama and sailed at reduced speed so that the container ships could catch up with them and get into formation.

  By the time night covered the area the five container ships had left the river and were only a couple of miles behind. Within three hours, the flotilla was only a mile apart and the coast of Shanghai disappeared off the short-range radar screens in the dark night behind them.

  Once the VIPs had gone back inside the aircraft carrier’s tower, they moved to the bridge to watch the whole flotilla coming together. Night lights began flashing from the others around them as the sea worsened and the radar screen showed the ten ships getting into formation for their pass 200 miles south of the Hawaiian Islands in two days time.

  Dinner for the Politburo was served at 9:00 pm in the main dining room on a large table. By this time, several bottles of champagne had been drunk and the group was in a festive mood. They had still not been allowed to visit their rooms and Wang was desperate to get his replacement phone and call Feng to get updates.

  The chairman’s control consul with the five red buttons had been placed in the middle of the table, directly in front of the his place at the head of the table, and the first course of the meal was served to the rowdy group. The chairman had placed his own satellite phone next to the display and none of the men had ever heard it go off, ever.

  It was three hours later, and after the main course that Wang managed to leave the room and, with an escort who knew the ship, retrieve the extra phone from his stateroom. It took five minutes to turn on and he watched in horror as several messages arrived on the screen, all from Comrade Feng, the latest only an hour ago.

  Comrade Wang climbed back up to the flight-deck with his escort to get perfect communications and he dialed Feng’s number—the red number written on all phones. A new phone, it took several seconds to patch itself through. Finally, at 11:15 pm he finally got a hold of Comrade Feng, who was in his office on the 18th floor of the smaller headquarters building.

  “Feng, I apologize that I have not been in contact with you,” said Wang into the mouthpiece, “but I dropped my old phone earlier this afternoon and it took me several hours to realize that it was broken.”

  “Comrade Wang, I don’t know where to start. We have had battles everywhere,” replied Feng, totally stressed and frustrated.

  “Did the aircraft land, Feng?”

  “Yes, Comrade, they are on the ground. They landed in America an hour ago. Twelve hours ago, I tried to call the termination squads at JFK, and the man who spoke was totally drunk. He shouted at me and told not to disturb him and I couldn’t understand why they had been drinking. That’s why I wanted to call you.”

  “The men clearing the runway were drunk?” asked Wang, his mouth open and again his face was white with worry.

  “The men were totally drunk! Next Comrade, Comrade Deng was attacked by two old World War II military aircraft. They were hit with machine guns and rockets in Alabama,” continued Comrade Feng.

  “How could that happen?” asked Wang. “How could somebody know first of all that Deng was an enemy, and second, that Deng was in the middle of a state like Alabama? Are they continuing, Feng?”

  “I lost contact with them. I’ve tried to contact them as well as Bo Lee Tang, but with no luck,” continued Feng.

  “How could the Americans know that Deng was travelling towards North Carolina? Could Bo Lee Tang be captured? Has he told the Americans about Deng?” And then realization hit him so hard that the knot that had sat in his stomach for a couple of days rose upwards and he swallowed hard trying to keep the bile down. He suddenly remembered that voice. It wasn’t Bo Lee Tang! It wasn
’t Bo Lee Tang’s voice, because his voice was deeper. It was a voice from the past—it was the voice of his nephew Lee Wang. Lee Wang wasn’t dead. Lee Wang must have survived the termination attempt in Salt Lake City. Lee Wang was alive and dangerous. He felt sick and moved to the side of the ship, hearing Feng ask him if he was still there. “Give me a second, Feng, I need to figure this out,” Wang replied, his face sickly white. He knew his life had somehow suddenly lost its remaining usefulness to the cause.

  “I have more problems, Comrade,” Feng continued unabated. “I have seen transponders off the coast of Japan and Korea. Someone is flying aircraft in the middle of the ocean.”

  “North Korea,” replied Wang still reeling over the first news. “Of course, the North Koreans are flying raids into American bases. They must be. I’m sure they are destroying everything American they can find. There are at least five or six American Air Force bases within bombing range of North Korea.”

  “I agree Comrade,” answered Feng. “But the last transponders were over the China Sea coming from South Korea to here in China—directly towards Nanjing and Shanghai. There were four transponders at 300 miles an hour.”

  “How long ago was this?” asked Wang.

  “About thirty minutes ago, Comrade,” Feng replied. “I have also received the most puzzling news from the JFK airport in New York. It seems that the chairman himself is overseeing the disembarkation of troops at the American airport. One of our pilots called in on their phone to tell me that the chairman had arrived in his private jet and was controlling the refueling and unloading of the cargo from the transporter. How can he be there? Isn’t he there with you?”

  “Of course he is here with us. I saw him just 30 minutes ago,” replied Wang, disbelieving what he was hearing. It was all too much to take in at one time. His mind was becoming blank. He was getting a brain freeze and unable to give orders. “Where are you now?” Wang asked Feng.

  “I’m in my office in the new building looking at my screen. I have a full team of 20 men on the 29th floor control center, watching every screen and answering any calls to back me up,” Feng answered.

  “Hang up,” Wang ordered. “Feng, give me five minutes to get back to the chairman. Then call him on his phone and tell him that he is in New York. I want you to find out where he really is, and then I want you to get back to the control center and tell all the pilots and soldiers at the American airport that they have been infiltrated and to shoot everybody, even our drunken termination squads—everybody who did not fly in with the aircraft to New York. I want that airport secure, understand?” And he hung up, wanting to be sick over the side. He did not have time, however, as he quickly made his way back to the party.

  It was in full swing when he got there. It didn’t look like anybody had missed him. The chairman was looking over some maps with the admiral when the chairman’s satellite phone suddenly rang. It was set on a very shrill and loud tone—a tone only the chairman had so it would be clear whose phone was being called. The room quieted instantly as the chairman, rather shocked that his phone was actually ringing, put his hand up for silence. He answered the phone and put the phone on speaker and back down on the dining table so that the room could listen.

  “Comrade Feng, this is Chairman Chunqiao. You are on speaker phone and talking to the whole Politburo. What is your problem?”

  “Comrade Chairman, I need to speak with you privately, please,”

  Feng begged.

  “There is nothing that can’t be told to all of our members,” the chairman replied. “We are all one now, and our destiny cannot be changed. Where are you calling from, Feng?”

  “I’m in my office in Building Two, Comrade Chairman.”

  “Why are you calling me from your office and not your station on the 29th floor of the control center, Comrade Feng?” the Chairman asked.

  “We are getting so many reports coming in, Comrade Chairman. I have a full staff of 20 operators manning every computer terminal, and I’m using the one in my office that oversees everything.”

  “And Comrade Wang was worried that there were no communications,” smirked the chairman, looking over the Wang, who was seated motionless in his chair with a sickly-looking face. “So Feng, what is so important that you call me in the middle of the night?”

  “Aircraft transponders and a second problem in New York, Comrade Chairman,” continued Feng. “For the last several hours, there has been a lot of aircraft activity over Japan and South Korea.”

  “Of course there is,” laughed the chairman. “North Koreans are killing Americans for us. They will destroy over 500 useless aircraft and 10,000 American soldiers around the American bases in Japan and South Korea. I’m sure that the North Korean pilots are enjoying themselves, having the upper hand on two world powers at the same time.”

  “I agree, but the latest four transponders are coming towards our mainland and directly towards Nanjing. We saw them 50 miles off our coast 20 minutes ago, and they were heading away from Korea and into China.”

  “They can only be Chinese fighters or bombers returning to the mainland,” answered the chairman, beginning to get angry. “Why would North Korean aircraft be coming towards Nanjing, except……” And then he thought for a second. “It is not possible that North Korea would attack Zedong Electronics, Feng. That is ridiculous! What was the other problem about New York?”

  “The other problem was you, yourself, Comrade Chairman,” continued Feng. “Comrade Chairman, you were…” and the listeners heard a massive explosion come through the line—so loud that everyone in the room could hear it.

  “Feng! Feng! What is happening?” shouted the Chairman into the phone, picking it up and taking it off speaker so he alone could hear.

  “We are being attacked!” shouted Feng. “I can see the large building out of my window! It is exploding like I’ve never seen before! It sounds like rockets are exploding inside the building! I’m by the window and I saw an aircraft light up a second ago. It was a big one—a bomber, I think,” he managed to say before there was another massive explosion and then a third one, and the men could still hear the noise even though the phone wasn’t on speaker any more. Comrade Wang sank into his seat.

  “Comrade Feng, who is attacking us?” demanded Chairman Chunqiao, shouting into the phone, extremely angry and perplexed. He needed to know immediately.

  “I don’t know, Comrade Chairman!” Feng shouted back, the explosions continuing in the background. “I think it can only be North Korean bombers, or the Chinese bombers you said were returning, Comrade Chairman.” Feng’s voice suddenly rose to a high-pitched shout. “They are starting to bomb this building; they are now shooting at my building. I can see a bomber, I can see a bomber, it is…..aaaaaagh!” There was the sound of a massive explosion before the phone went dead in the chairman’s hand—the beep, beep sound of the other end losing telephone contact.

  “How dare they attack us!” the Chairman yelled, putting down the phone and looking at the people around him. “We give our allies the best opportunity to join us and destroy their enemy and they turn on us like a pack of dogs!”

  “Who is turning on us, Comrade Chairman?” asked Wang, deeply skeptical that the chairman knew the correct answer.

  “It must be the North Koreans,” he replied, reaching for the fourth red button and pushing it without hesitation.

  The fourth red button shut down every electronic system in Zedong Electronics’ allied countries. Just like the rest of the world, every civilian, military, and government machine using an electronic-control system went off the air within 30 seconds. The termination frequency was relayed to the parts, or whole electrical units in the millions of electronic parts especially made and sold to these countries.

  In North Korea, the lights went out—the highly sophisticated electronics aboard its newest guns, tanks, and the dozens of aircraft bombing the northern areas of South Korea went silent and hundreds of new explosions rocked the area as many of their aircra
ft hit the earth. Even the young North Korean Premier’s plane with him aboard on its way to the front to inspect the damage they had done to the dying South Korean troops defending their territory went down.

  The same happened in Iran. Their entire air force was airborne bombing and fighting American and NATO military bases in Iraq and surrounding countries. They all dropped like flies as their lights went off and machines of all types stopped working. It was the same in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and the Sudan. The rapid shutdown of the rest of the developed world very quickly came and went.

  “Does anybody think that our own government could not be behind suggesting to the North Koreans that attacking us was in their best interest?” asked Chairman Chunqiao to the group of shocked men. Wang, still wanting to be sick, could not move.

  “Why would North Korea attack us? We have given them a share of world domination with us. Why would they attack us, without somebody suggesting it to them, or offering them a better deal?”

  “Why would North Korea attack us, Comrade Chairman?” asked Mo Wang, looking straight at Chairman Chunqiao. “Why would our own government attack us? They are already on their knees due to us cutting off their military strength. They are already like a vassal state to us and would do anything we asked of them. I believe somehow the Americans have attacked us. I believe that with all the uprising in America against our termination squads, Comrade Chairman, I can’t even communicate with over 50% of our teams. I believe America has somehow attacked us.”

  The chairman pondered Comrade Wang’s answer for several moments, and then looked up and around at every table. “Wang, give me the phone number of the pilots of the aircraft leaving New York. If they do not respond, then I might believe that you are on the right track. If they respond, then I want to hear that both aircraft are in the air and on their way back to China. What are the phone numbers for both aircraft?”

 

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