“If you think this is right thing, Professor,” Hank said, “then I’m convinced.”
“They might hang us if I’m wrong,” Stan said.
“We’re brothers,” Jose said. “And we trust you that you know what you’re doing.”
Stan reached up for the hatch as something caught in his throat. Then he steeled his nerves. He heard Jackson arguing with the officer-in-charge.
“Now!” Stan said, and he shut the hatch with a clang.
Hank revved the M1A2, and they lurched.
Stan peered through his scope. Soldiers ran to get out of the way. Then the Bradley rushed into view. With a mighty clang, Hank rammed the Bradley, shoving it out of the way. A moment later, the Abrams rammed through the chain-link fence.
“Load a HE round,” Stan said. “Then aim for the farthest storage unit.”
Jose went to work as the auto-loader shoved a round into the firing chamber.
Bullets began striking and bouncing off their tank. Then heavy .50 caliber rounds hit the Abrams. Those must be coming from the Humvees. They had zero effect as well.
“Fire,” Stan said.
The 120mm smoothbore shot a high explosive round into a giant storage unit. It hit, and a titanic explosion erupted, a fierce roar of sound. Seconds later, the shockwave hit, rocking the tank.
As a fireball climbed into existence, Stan shouted, “Keep firing! We’re going to blow them all!”
WASHINGTON D.C.
Deep underground in White House Bunker Number Five, General Alan stood up.
“Mr. President, I have good news. The Chinese assault in Anchorage has halted for the moment. The T-66s have run out of gas. I think the Chinese supply lines have been stretched to the breaking point. Before they recover, I believe that our lead elements in the Yukon will already be in the city.”
President Clark smiled. “That is excellent news.”
“May I ask a question, sir?” Anna Chen asked.
“Please,” the President said.
“I’ve heard reports about a National Guard Captain and his tank,” Anna said.
“Where did you hear about this?” General Alan said.
“What captain?” the President asked.
General Alan seemed embarrassed. “A Captain Stan Higgins attacked our storage depot in Anchorage, sir. He injured a dozen Army soldiers doing it.”
“He blew up the fuel tanks,” Anna said.
“Where did you learn this?” General Alan asked, giving her a keen stare.
“Why did the captain do this?” President Clark asked.
“Uh,” General Alan said, looking at the President. “According to his testimony, he believed the Chinese were low on fuel, sir.”
“He tried to talk General Sims into doing it,” Anna said. “Sims refused and now the captain and his crew are under arrest.”
“Is this true?” Clark asked General Alan.
“Yes, sir.”
Clark frowned. “You say the Chinese are low on fuel. What would have happened if they had captured our storage facilities intact?”
“It’s hard to say, sir,” General Alan replied.
The President eyed the general. Then he glanced at Anna. Finally, Clark sat back, drumming his fingers on the conference table. “I pardon the captain, if he needs it. And I pardon his tank crew. Then I want him in Washington.”
“Sir?” asked General Alan.
“The man deserves the Congressional Medal of Honor for what he did,” the President said.
“But sir—” General Alan said.
“That is an order,” the President said.
“Yes, sir.”
“In fact, make the call right now. We can wait until you’re finished.”
“Yes, sir,” General Alan said, motioning to one of his aides. Several seconds later, the aide hurried near with a telephone.
BEIJING, P.R.C.
Jian Shihong, Minister without Portfolio, glanced at the other Ruling Committee members waiting on the Chairman. Admiral Qingshan of the Navy looked weary, while Police Minister Xiaodan seemed positively frightened. Xiaodan had lost weight, giving his face a skeletal look. The marshal, the Army Minister, sat as stiffly as ever, although a tic had begun under his right eye. Only Deng Fong seemed the same, the same miserable intriguer with his secretive cunning. Jian hated Deng and dearly wanted to see the man die a cruel death.
The door opened and the Chairman’s wheelchair moved across the carpeted floor. He stopped at the head of the table. A medical tube from the box in the back of the chair to the Chairman’s side made an odd gurgling noise. A blue clot made its way out of the Chairman and to the box.
Jian suppressed a shudder of loathing. The old man should be dead by now. Only advanced medicines kept him alive.
“It is time for decisions,” the Chairman whispered. His chair didn’t amplify his words, nor did he speak with vigor. He seemed tired, possibly dispirited.
As Jian tried to decide if he should say something, Admiral Qingshan took a deep breath. “May I speak, sir?” he asked.
“By all means,” the Chairman said.
“The naval infantry has reached Anchorage. They have already begun to breach the city. We hold the Kenai Peninsula. All we need to complete the task is fuel, munitions and another three fresh brigades.”
“All?” asked the Chairman.
“I do not understand, sir,” said Qingshan.
“How will you ship this new transfusion to your trapped naval infantry?”
“By using Navy transports, sir,” said Qingshan.
“These transports are needed for grain,” the Chairman said. “Isn’t that right, Xiaodan?”
“The people’s anger is growing worse,” Xiaodan said in a soft voice. “The people of the inner provinces are very hungry.”
“But the war, sir—” said Qingshan.
“Has ground to a halt,” the Chairman said. “General Nung reached Dead Horse, and the Army is to be congratulated for that.” The old man glanced at the marshal.
The Army Minister seemed uncomfortable with the praise.
He hates Nung just like all the others in High Command, Jian thought. The marshal would have just as soon seen General Nung fail.
“Nung has reached Dead Horse,” the Chairman said, “but our ability to re-supply him is fast dwindling. Meanwhile, the Army T-66s have stalled. They are out of fuel.”
“With more fuel—” Qingshan began.
“No!” the Chairman said. “I will not send more ships into the northern waters as winter approaches. The Americans have moved heavy ground formations into position, entering the Yukon as they travel for Alaska. They will reach Anchorage before your reinforcements do. If you had taken the city and opened the port, yes. Then I would pour Army troops into the city. But as the Arctic winter approaches I will not throw good troops after bad ones.”
Admiral Qingshan stiffened.
“The war—” Jian said.
“Quiet!” the Chairman said. “You will not use your boasts here today. Yes, you lit a fire under Nung, and he achieved a Mongol’s objective, a raiding victory.”
“He holds Dead Horse, sir,” Jian said.
“We cannot hold onto the North Slope,” the Chairman said. “But we can blow the oil wells there so America’s fuel burns and their economy withers away. We have denied them the Arctic Ocean oil wells and the Prudhoe Bay fields. That might be enough to induce them to trade for our oil.”
“I do not think the Americans will sell us grain, sir,” Deng said.
“No,” the Chairman said, after a moments reflection. “Neither do I. We attempted to snatch Alaska from them in a swift, surprise attack. Our attack came within centimeters of success but in the end, it failed. Now we must glean from it what we can.”
The Chairman studied his ministers. “Our chief advantage is that the Americans dared to use nuclear weapons. The outcry against them is growing. We might be able to use that to break the Grain Union. We have hurt America and shown the wo
rld how weak they are. To conquer American territory, however, we need a stronger merchant marine and a greater number of Navy transports. Therefore, I am ordering an immediate increase in ship construction.”
“Sir?” asked Deng.
“The war has shown us that China needs a larger Navy,” the Chairman said. “Therefore, we will buy that with our riches.”
“What about our naval infantry in Alaska?” Admiral Qingshan asked.
“We will retrieve the units that we can reach,” the Chairman said. “Let the others sit near Anchorage, spending the winter there. If they are still alive come next year, we might have a use for them again. But as of this moment, the war to take Alaska is over. We will not resume that war or any war with America until our Navy dwarfs theirs.”
The old man in the wheelchair fell silent, watching his ministers.
Jian’s throat was dry. He needed war to advance his political power, of that he was certain. But this was not the moment to push for more war. This was the moment to back the Chairman with enthusiasm. “That is a marvelous idea, sir. I totally agree.”
Deng Fong stared at him.
“Yes,” Xiaodan said a moment later. “I agree, sir. You are correct.”
The marshal of the Army nodded.
“Admiral Qingshan?” the Chairman asked.
“We are so near victory,” Qingshan said. “It would be a pity to halt the attack now.”
The Chairman scowled. “Our troops are stalled as the Americans pour reinforcements through the Yukon. We used your naval brigades, but they were unable to move quickly enough to achieve the goal. Therefore, now is the time to rearm nationally, using our experiences to build a bigger and better military.”
“I have grave doubts about leaving our troops exposed near Anchorage, sir,” said Qingshan.
“Then you had better reconsider quickly,” the Chairman said.
After a moment, Qingshan nodded. “I think Admiral Ling can recover most of the troops immediately, sir. The critical idea, as you say, is to rearm until we have an invincible Navy. Destroying the American supercarriers and crippling their economy—that was a worthy objective to have achieved with our military effort.”
The Chairman brooded before he said, “The war for Alaska is over. Now we shall make sure that Chinese arms will never again be caught short of supplies. That is an important lesson learned by our little naval exercise these past few weeks. It is one we shall never forget.”
He is trying to minimize the loss, Jian thought to himself. He is deceiving himself.
The Chairman shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair as pain creased his features. “Now, on to other matters….”
PIKE WEATHER STATION, ALASKA
Paul Kavanagh was on the phone in a small hut atop a mountain. The long-distance line to California was finally coming through. Red Cloud was outside, waiting near the Marine helicopter.
Someone on the other end of the line picked up the phone. “Hello?” a woman asked.
“Cheri?” Paul said, his heart racing and his face flushed.
“Paul?”
“Yeah, baby, it’s me.”
“Paul, you’re alive. I-I thought….”
“I’m coming home, baby.” By all that was holy, he loved her voice. It was beautiful. It was life.
“What do you mean ‘coming home’?”
“I mean that I’m sorry for all the ways I treated you badly. It means I want to start over. I love you, baby. I want to be with you more than anything in this world. What do you say, Cheri? Do you think there’s a chance?”
A sob came over the crackling line.
“Cheri?” Paul said, worried he’d lost the connection as he had before outside Platform P-53.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Cheri whispered. “When I thought you were dead…. Please, Paul, hurry home. I love you so much. I know that now.”
Paul grinned so hard it hurt his cheeks. “I love you too, baby. I’ll be home in a few weeks.”
“Oh, Paul, it’s so good to hear your voice. I’m so terribly glad you’re alive. This is wonderful.”
“Yeah, I’m done fighting. It’s out of my system. All I want is to love you and raise my boy right. I can hardly wait to hold you in my arms again.”
This was great! This was why he was alive. He’d paid his vow to Murphy. Now it was time to live again.
The End
To the Reader: I hope you’ve enjoyed Invasion: Alaska. If you would like to read more about the Great War between China and the United States, I encourage you to write a review. Let me know how you feel and let others know what to expect.
Novels by Vaughn Heppner
The Ark Chronicles:
People of the Ark
People of the Flood
People of Babel
People of the Tower
Lost Civilizations:
Giants
Leviathan
The Tree of Life
Gog
Behemoth
The Lod Saga
The Doom Star Series:
Star Soldier
Bio-Weapon
Battle Pod
Cyborg Assault
Planet Wrecker
Other Novels:
The Great Pagan Army
The Sword of Carthage
The Knight of Pellinore
Invasion: Alaska
Death Knight
The Darkling
The Dragon Horn
Strontium-90
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