Endgame (The Red Gambit Series Book 7)

by Colin Gee

  He put his pipe on the table and moved around to the large map on which Zhukov had pointed out places during his briefing.

  “We have much, much more… and we will use it!”

  He swept his hand over the map, encompassing everything in one mighty sweeping gesture.

  “There is nowhere on this map that is safe for them.”

  The map went from Portugal and the British Isles on the left, through to Siberia and Japan on the right.

  The leader smiled as he had a thought.

  Turning back to the excited audience, he pointed over his shoulder.

  “Nowhere off the map that’s safe for them either.”

  Even those who were less sharp understood his words.

  ‘Amerika!’

  Stalin laughed.

  “Yes, Comrades, we will burn them in their beds, be it in New York or San Francisco.”

  “Urrah!”

  They stood as one and applauded, at first the leader, then Zhukov, then themselves.

  Only a handful present knew that the rhetoric was little more than simply earnest hopes on claimed technical opportunities translated into promises, and that Raduga would need a lot of luck to experience any successes such as Stalin had just suggested.

  The meeting was carried on a wave of emotion, and the USSR was committed to a war the like of which had never been seen before.

  All-out conflict with weapons that had the capacity to consume people in their tens and hundreds of thousands.

  In the United States of America, the great and powerful of American politics received briefings, either from and in the White House direct, or from those of varying importance sent to bring the information to disbelieving ears, depending on the recipient’s place in the food chain.

  The incredible act of betrayal brought about by the Soviet Union bore too many parallels to that inflicted upon them in December 1941 for any politician to do anything but throw his or her weight behind a full and deadly prosecution of any renewed war.

  The latest ‘Day of Infamy’ saw the translation of Truman’s words to Patton into action, and by the time that Governor Dewey of New York was informed and committed himself to the full prosecution of the renewed violence, the secret movement of L-14 through L-19 and J-3 through J-5 had already started.

  Destination… Karup.

  1800 hrs, Saturday, 15th March 1947, NATO Headquarters, Leipzig, Germany.

  Patton set his jaw and listened with studied severity, hands on his hips in classic pose.

  Incredulously, there were no major Soviet incursions, although according to German and Polish reports, the bastards had come close, with disaster only averted at the last moment when forces on exercise moved up and beat the enemy thrusts back.

  The British had suffered from artillery and mortar exchanges all along their front line, and in a stiff exchange south of Kalvarija, where the Guards Division had responded by launching a spoiling attack towards the town and come up short in the face of well dug-in anti-tank guns and infantry.

  German and Polish forces had responded quickly and had pushed over the Soviet lines in a number of places, creating an opportunity not wasted on the fiery American.

  The French had mostly been spared, save for the ex-SS legion units, who had taken a pounding from artillery and mortars without any accompanying ground assault.

  A strange report from one of their divisions needed clarification, and Patton moved on, deciding that if the damned SS couldn’t find an enemy armored and infantry force reported to be in brigade strength attacking the DRH’s 78th Sturm Division, then quite clearly he needed someone to put a burr under the ass of their commander.

  “Never happen with my old boys of the Third, goddamn Krauts!’

  Around Vienna, the situation was extremely confused.

  Austrian reports had the Bundesheer counter-attack and partially break into the designated Soviet corridor into Vienna.

  US forces aggressively moved against the Austrian capital and took a bloody nose despite gaining good ground, bringing some infantry units into the city itself.

  Who exactly was where was not always clear, but Austrian forces set behind the US lines were already moved up to closely support any further assaults.

  He eyed the area around the Yugoslavian lines, and in Italy, with a jaundiced eye.

  ‘I don’t trust those motherfuckers one fucking bit!’

  The air briefing was music to his ears, with solid reports of kills and targets struck down across the front from the Baltic to the Graz in the south.

  “Arthur, we must make sure your boys don’t start anything with the Yugos. Make sure of it. No mistakes. Can’t afford that critter kicking off down there, ok?”

  Tedder had already stressed that to all commands, but knew it wouldn’t hurt to say it again.

  The navy brought very little to the table.

  One enemy submarine sunk in Arctic waters, and a British submarine brought to the surface and severely shaken up during a vigorous attack made by the Norwegian Air Force. Some sorties had been flown off aircraft carriers, but these had netted nothing of note.

  Unconfirmed reports had another Soviet submarine down in the Black Sea, but the RAF aircraft responsible had been unable to confirm before being driven away but enemy forces.

  Patton strode back to the middle of the briefing area and set himself again.

  “Thank you, Brigadier.”

  The British officer nodded and moved back into the expectant mass of senior personnel, all waiting on orders from the man himself.

  “Clearly, the Soviets have made a FUBAR of their attack, almost to the point that you could wonder if they meant to do it at all! Not our problem, but we’re sure as hell gonna make the suckers pay big time.”

  He turned to the situation map and took in the markings and trappings of the manoeuvres of millions of men and thousands of pieces of equipment.

  “The President has given me an order and I intend to carry it out without delay.”

  Patton nodded to himself in acknowledgement of the importance of his decisions, picked up the slender metal baton and flexed it gently between his hands.

  “Our German and Polish allies have responded quickly, thanks to their exercises in progress, and their efforts will proceed. In fact… will be enlarged.”

  Patton’s eyes narrowed.

  “In general, we’ll advance across a broad front… keeping up pressure at as many points as possible but… specifically…”

  He flicked the baton to the top of the map.

  “I plan to start operations in North Norway within three days, if not sooner. The finer details of that’ll be sorted shortly.”

  The aggressive general was out of the bag.

  “The Polish Army on the Baltic will continue to guard the coastline, and will be responsible for moving up the coast in line with the British advance.”

  McCreery gave Patton his full attention.

  “The British forces will keep their right flank hinged on the Poles here,” he slapped the map hard, denting the small village of Lazdijai, “With a view to driving forward and occupying Riga as soon as possible.”

  McCreery understood his task and that the three hundred or so kilometre advance would require extremely careful planning and coordination with his Polish cohorts.

  “Meanwhile, the Polish Army will continue their magnificent counter attacks and convert them into main drives, which will focus on Vilnius and Minsk… simultaneously.”

  He took a look at Guderian and offered a courteous nod.

  “Fieldmarshal, your forces have responded superbly and I want you to continue with your assaults towards Bialystok and Lublin at full speed… but your centre should pin the enemy in place… push… but not too hard.”

  Patton’s intention was obvious.

  Encirclement.

  “The French forces will mount an attack to support the Fieldmarshal’s assaults, by threatening Zamosc, and another to threaten an attack north of Lvov… here.�
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  That was a big ask of the reduced French Army, but Patton knew that more units were already marshalling for quick dispatch to the front, and that they were units of better quality than had previously tried and failed against the Red Army.

  “US forces will launch a number of attacks from areas in Poland here,” he indicated the southern Polish sector, where most of the US Army was either in the front line or camped behind the lines on policing or training, or simply at rest.

  ‘Not that anyone in my goddamned army is resting at the goddamned moment!’

  “My objective for the US forces is simple. I intend to take Lvov to protect the northern flank of an advance that will take forces to the shores of the Black Sea. Eliminating Bulgaria, Hungary, and Rumania as threats, and as allies to the Communists. This will have the effect of freeing up considerable assets presently tied down elsewhere.”

  Patton enjoyed the look on the faces of many of the men present, who quite clearly thought he was asking too much of his forces.

  He was asking a lot, but he felt he knew his boys… and no one ever accused George S. Patton of lacking confidence.

  “This!”

  He again slapped the display, this time precisely on the Austrian capital city.

  “We’ll take Vienna immediately, with as little damage as possible. A quick sharp blow should be enough to force them to surrender. Austrian forces have already nearly closed up the supply route… so that’ll be done as quickly as possible.”

  He extended a hand to the map, almost tickling the sensitive spot.

  “Yugoslavia?”

  “Quiet, Sir, but we understand that Tito will be making a very public condemnation of the Soviet aggression. Our sources tell us that there’ll be no issues from the Yugoslavs.”

  “Thank you. In other words, Tito is pissed with Stalin. That’s good. We do nothing… I repeat…nothing to bring the Yugoslavs to any other position. None the less, we treat our lines opposite them as active zones. I’m not gonna get caught out. Clear?”

  Lieutenant General Morgan, second in command of the Italian theatre, nodded his understanding.

  “Right, gentlemen. I want to see some planning by 1100 tomorrow. Ok, then let’s get ourselves in the saddle and go and win this goddamned war!”

  1800 hrs, Saturday, 15th March 1947, the White House, Washington DC, USA.

  “People of the United States of America, I come before you this evening with a heavy heart, to report to you upon events that will bring despair to every soul… heartache to every fibre of your being.”

  “On December 8th 1941 my predecessor, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, stood before Congress and told of the Japanese attack upon our country.”

  “He used some words that all of you will remember.”

  Truman paused, some thought for effect but in truth it was emotion that seized him.

  “He called it ‘a day that will live in infamy’.”

  “Today, I come before you all to report that, for the second time in a generation, we have suffered such an infamous day, no lesser than that visited upon us by the Empire of Japan.”

  “At two o’clock this morning, European time, the forces of the Soviet Union and her Allies, launched a surprise attack upon the forces of NATO in the free countries of Europe.”

  Truman paused, even though he suspected that very few listening to his broadcast were unaware of the new ignominy visited upon the world at large.

  “I can tell you all that our forces, and those of our Allies, responded quickly and met the aggressors in the field, in the air, and on the high seas, and we have prevented any great advances.”

  “Indeed, we are already making inroads into the enemies’ lines.”

  “As you will know, following the grievous loss of General Dwight Eisenhower, General George Patton was placed temporarily in command of all forces in NATO, and he has taken charge of the efforts to take the fight to the enemy and punish them for this incredible act of treachery.”

  He took a quick sip of water and pressed on.

  “The gravity of the situation that confronts the world today cannot be underestimated, as the very techniques and weapons of war now available have changed so much since President Roosevelt took us into a righteous war against the Japanese… and against the Axis of evil that threatened the world’s freedom.”

  “These weapons have the capacity to lay waste to land like no other means of war devised before.”

  “We find ourselves, once again, involved in a war not of our choosing, but one thrust upon us by the decisions of others… others whose motivation is the suppression of rights and freedoms, and the enslavement of nations.”

  More water.

  “I promise each and every one of you that the efforts of this administration, our forces, and those of our Allies, will be focussed on the total and utter defeat of the aggressors, and that we will do so with every means at our disposal.”

  The glass was drained and Truman signalled for a refill.

  “We did not choose this, neither you nor me, but we must now deal resolutely with the challenges to come.

  “Often in our lives, we come to a point where we, as nations and as individuals, must choose between alternative ways of life, between how best to deal with the rights and wrongs that life itself throws in our way.”

  “That choice is often not a free one, for we can be confined by circumstances.”

  “At this time, I say to you that we have no choices now. There is no other option than to fully prosecute this conflict to its swift and awful end, or we should see our future generations being threatened by the regime that has, once again, visited war upon us all.”

  “You will know that we possess weapons of a type that can bring destruction on a biblical scale and that, for sound reasons, they were not employed in the recent conflict in Europe.”

  Even those around him that knew the precise words to come held their collective breath, for the enormity of them would not be wasted on a listening world.

  “I take this opportunity to assure you, the people of America, the free peoples of the world, and also, importantly, to the peoples of the Soviet Union and her Allies… we will not hold back… we will not restrict ourselves… and we will avail ourselves of each and every means at our disposal to end this conflict and bring the aggressors to their knees before us, totally defeated.”

  Truman’s voice started to croak towards the end of the statement and he took a sip from the fresh glass.

  “We know enough now to understand that nations do not make war.”

  “It is individuals who bend their people to their own ends, their own ambitions, so I say this particularly to the Soviet people.”

  “You will suffer for the sins of your leaders because that is the nature of war.”

  “When this is done and we are at peace again, those leaders will have a day of reckoning, where they will stand accountable for their actions, a day when those who have brought all of us to the pits of hell once more will be tried and judged.”

  “I ask you all, especially our enemies, to understand that the resolve of this nation is total.”

  “We are now preparing to obliterate more rapidly and completely every productive enterprise the Soviets and their Allies have above ground in any city. We shall destroy their docks, their factories, and their communications. Let there be no mistake… we shall completely destroy the Soviet Union’s power to make war and I urge the Soviet people to heed our warning and remove themselves immediately from such factories, docks, and communications centres.”

  He let that hang for a moment.

  “We would wish to spare the Soviet people the total destruction that we can and will bring down upon them, so we make this one time offer to the Soviet leadership… and particularly Premier Stalin.”

  “Surrender now… unconditionally. Preserve your nation and your people instead of pursuing your personal agendas.”

  “I can assure you that if you do not now accept our t
erms, then you may expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.”

  “Behind these air attacks will follow sea and land forces in such numbers and with such power as you have not yet seen and cannot imagine, and they will bring with them the fighting skills of which you are already well aware.”

  He paused, the effort of the delivery making him momentarily light-headed.

  “The clock is running… the sands are ebbing away… make the most of this time, for we will not falter in our resolve, and we will bring all the horrors of war to every hearth and home in the Soviet Union and beyond to her Allies.”

  “That is our message… that is our position.”

  “People of America and the world, good luck to you all, and I pray to God that we shall soon see an end to this latest round of madness.”

  He closed his eyes and prayed the briefest of prayers for his country.

  ‘Dear God, bring an end to this insanity.’

  “God bless America. Good night.”

  0108 hrs, Sunday, 16th March 1947, the Kremlin, Moscow, USSR.

  The radio was switched off, creating a loaded silence into which only one man dared to venture.

  “We attacked? We’re the aggressors? The man’s a fucking idiot!”

  Stalin shouted at anyone in distance.

  “They attacked us… they… attacked… us!”

  Those privy to the finer details of Raduga could not wholly understand their leader’s indignation, but nonetheless held their peace.

  “Bastards! Fucking bastards! They’ll pay for this, Comrades!”

  Voznesensky spoke up, voicing their collective thoughts.

  “I cannot believe that our agencies did not see this coming. How could such an enterprise go undetected?”

  Beria bristled.

  “There was nothing… no information, fact or suspected, Comrades. Neither us, nor the GRU, had the faintest sniff of this treachery. Indeed, with the death of the capitalist’s high command, it would have been considered unlikely even if we knew something was planned.”