Battle Born

by Dale Brown

  The Korean F-16CJ aircraft led the main attack group. They stayed at fifteen thousand feet, flying high enough to stay away from antiaircraft artillery, presenting themselves as inviting targets. The idea was that they should have drawn fire from Chinese surface-to-air missile batteries, at least a squeak on radar, enough so that they could open fire on any enemy search or tracking radars with their AGM-88 HARMs (high-speed antiradar missiles).

  But the Chinese armor and infantry units were smart enough not to take the bait. They knew that if they didn't activate any radars, the Korean F-16CJs did not have anything to shoot at. The Korean F-16s flew right up to the Chinese tanks-and never even received a rifle shot in their direction. They could do nothing but orbit over the area and wait for targets to pop up. A few tried to go low to drop cluster bombs on tanks and self-propelled artillery, and those planes were hit by optically and low-light TV-guided antiaircraft artillery and heat-seeking surface-to-air missiles. The Koreans lost four aircraft to enemy fire before being forced to retreat.

  The F-16 Block 52 attack jets went in next, armed with infrared-imaging AGM-65D Maverick antitank missiles, followed by MiG-23 fighter-bombers carrying gravity bombs and target-marking rockets. But the Chinese J-6 fighters had arrived over the battlefield by now, outnumbering the Korean fighters by six to one. Even with those odds, the Korean jets were racking up impressive kills, but soon they began to run out of missiles and the numbers of Chinese jets just didn't seem to be diminishing. Before long the Korean jets were on the defensive and forced to run south. Several formations of Korean F-4E Phantom II bombers tried circumnavigating the entire Chagang Do battlefield and tried to cut in from the west, but they were intercepted by Chinese fighters out of Dandong and chased off as well. Both sides lost a handful of planes, but it wasn't a stalemate or tie-every plane Korea lost composed a major percentage of the fleet, while four fighters could replace even the most obsolete Chinese fighter.

  Even though both the Koreans and the Chinese lost a fairly equal number of planes, the first Korean counteroffensive was a complete failure. The massive numbers of Chinese armor and mobile infantry units in the three Korean northern border provinces were barely scratched.

  MASTER CONTROL AND REPORTING CENTER

  OSAN, UNITED REPUBLIC OF KOREA

  (FORMERLY SOUTH KOREA)

  THAT SAME TIME

  Five F-16s and six F-4s lost or damaged, sir," the command operations officer summarized. "We have reports of confirmed hits on just thirteen Chinese main battle tanks and nine artillery pieces. Our weapons list was in excess of two hundred Maverick missiles, forty antiradar missiles, and over one hundred sticks of gravity weapons. Our surviving forces are rearming and refueling."

  "Those losses are completely unacceptable!" Minister of National Defense Kim Kun-mo shouted. "Five percent! Five percent of our strike fleet was destroyed or damaged in the first wave! How can we expect to drive out the enemy with losses such as this?"

  "Sir, we are gathering more tactical reconnaissance and rebuilding the target list," General An Ki-sok, chief of the general staff, replied. "But the Chinese Air Force has simple numerical superiority over Chagang Do province right now. The Chinese fighters do not engage our F-16 fighters-they merely shoot and run, shoot and run. They do this because they know there are four or five more fighters entering the battle for every one that retreats. Why risk being shot down in an engagement with a superior force?"

  "What are you planning on doing about it, General?" Kim asked.

  "We can do little at night without better photo intelligence," General An replied somberly. "Only one-third of our F-16s can carry Maverick missiles, and they cannot do their job very well if we do not control the skies. In daytime, we can use the F-5 Chegong-ho fighters for air defense and the Hawks and Mohawk planes for attack." He paused, then looked at his commander with a painful expression. "But it will do little good, sir," he admitted. "China's Air Force is qualitatively far inferior to ours, but they will have the numbers on their side no matter how good our pilots are. We may never get control of the skies over Chagang Do province."

  "This is unacceptable! Completely unacceptable!" Kim shouted. "We have struggled too hard and have come too far to be turned back. If we cannot defend our own land from attack, what good are we as a nation?" The hot line phone began to ring. Kim ignored it for several long moments, and a stern glare warned General

  An not to touch it either. Finally, Kim answered it: "What is it?"

  "This is the president," Kwon Ki-chae said angrily. "What is going on? My staff tells me we are attacking the Chinese troops!"

  "I had no choice, Mr. President," Kim said. "I assembled a strike package and executed a conventional weapons attack against the spearhead of the Chinese armored units. I also conducted a probe to try to determine what kind of air defenses they had set up in Chagang Do province."

  "This was completely without authorization!" Kwon shouted. "You will launch no more attacks tonight! Is that understood?"

  "Sir, we lost eleven aircraft to the Chinese," Kim said bitterly. "They continue to move south and are threatening to break out of Chagang Do province. By this time tomorrow they can have four brigades of tanks on the outskirts of Pyongyang. If we do not stop them, they will be knocking on your door at the Blue House in three days."

  "General, don't you realize we cannot hope to defeat the Chinese People's Liberation Army by military means?" President Kwon asked incredulously. "Don't you realize what happened here? We achieved a major victory over the Communists not by the use of force, but by the use of reason and truth. North Korea fell because the people threw off the dictatorship that was slowly killing them, not because we used our military might to subdue them."

  "I am well aware of how we defeated the Communists, sir," Kim said, his voice a low monotone.

  "Then under what delusions of grandeur are you suffering, General Kim?" Kwon asked. "Did you think that just because we captured some jets and artillery pieces and nuclear weapons we can scare China? The smallest military district in China has twice as many men, planes, and tanks as our entire country!

  "We are a nation of peace, Kim, not because we are small and defenseless, but because we are Koreans, bred for peace," Kwon went on. "We do not have an offensive striking force because we never wanted one! We should have given those special weapons away. We never should have kept them!"

  "And let China overrun us again?" Kim asked. "Did we fight to win reunification, only to roll over and die just a few short weeks later?"

  "This is a different world than that of 1895 or

  1945," Kwon said. "Don't you realize this? The conquest of land is less important than technological and economic competition. China never wanted our land. But you-we-acted as if the Ming dynasty ruled China, or the Imperial Japanese warlords wanted to annex us again. The Chinese would have been perfectly happy to wait and watch to see if stability and peace would take over the Korean peninsula-as long as they were not threatened by nuclear weapons. When we kept those weapons, we became a threat to them."

  "Sir, we kept those weapons because they were to secure our borders and guarantee our security against the Chinese People's Liberation Army," Kim retorted. "We knew we could not defend ourselves against China's overwhelming numerical advantage. China is stupid enough to risk the lives of millions of its citizens and soldiers just to take Chagang Do province-well, that was their mistake. We have no choice now, sir.

  "We have to back up our threat to use weapons of mass destruction to stop the Chinese. I am requesting your launch codes for our nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons force." +

  "You . . , you are insane, Kim ..."

  "I am realistic, sir!" Kim exploded. "I am trying to save Korea, not watch it destroyed! I am in the command center directing our troops to try to drive the invaders out, not sitting in my cozy office or in some underground secret bunker wringing my hands and hoping for peace. I have ordered twelve Scud-B and six Nodong-1 ballistic missiles targeted again
st the Chinese brigades in Chagang Do province and inside Jilin province in China. I have also targeted air bases in Dandong, Fushun, and Shenyang, the tank base at Linjiang, and the naval bases at Luda and Qingdao. In addition, I have targeted two Nodong-2 missiles at the People's Liberation Army command center . . ."

  "Beijing?" Kwon said in horror. "You . . , you have targeted Beijing with nuclear weapons'?"

  "I know this seems a drastic and inconceivable act, sir," Kim said with amazing calmness, "but if we have any hope of stopping the Chinese war machine from sweeping across Korea, we must do this. I need your execution codes, sir, and I need them now. You must read them off to me over the phone-I can send someone over there immediately to help you compute the codes if you wish. The senior controller here will copy them down and authenticate them. Combined with my codes, we can proceed with the attack."

  "I will never agree to give you those codes, Kim!" Kwon shouted. "Do you honestly believe I would authorize an attack that could kill hundreds of millions of persons? You are insane! I order you to leave that command center immediately, or I will have you placed under arrest! I am dismissing you from your post."

  "You cannot do that!"

  "It is done already," Kwon said. "You are no longer minister of defense. I will issue the order immediately." And the line went dead.

  Kim Kun-mo's head was spinning as he hung up the telephone. The bastard, he thought angrily, he actually fired me? We are in the middle of a war with Communist China, and he fired me? "He can't do that!" he shouted. "I can't let that happen." He picked up the telephone to the senior controller.

  "Sir?"

  "Seal up the command center, General," Kim said. "Go to full nuclear-chemical-biological protection mode. Full EMP protective measures. Hard-wired analog communications only."

  "Yes, sir," the senior controller responded. "Switching to internal power, canceling digital and high-gain communications inlets."

  Moments after an announcement was made, the lights flickered, then died except for a handful of battery-powered safety lights. The air also smelled different-mustier, dry like the inside of a coffin. They were on the air recirculators now, completely cut off from outside air; they were also on internal batteries that would be recharged as long as outside power was still available, but would instantly switch over to internal-only power if a nuclear blast erupted outside.

  Kim got up from his desk and looked down below to the floor of the command center-it was almost completely dark, with only a few consoles illuminated. But the activity did not cease. Technicians started carrying out sound-powered communications systems, simple Korean War-era field telephones, and old-style greaseboards to replace the now-dark digital information screens. Using hard-wired analog communications systems instead of digital or broad-bandwidth systems reduced the likelihood of total destruction in case of a nearby nuclear blast . . .

  . . , but it also isolated them from President Kwon Ki-chae, at least for a short time. The question is, would it be long enough?

  Vice President Pak Chung-chu trotted into the president's office then. "I was just notified!" he shouted excitedly. "General Kim and General An attempted a counterattack and were swept aside, and now Chinese troops are swarming across the border!"

  "General Kim seems to have gone insane," Kwon shouted. "He requested-no, he demanded-I give him the execution codes so he can launch a special weapons attack against China. He has already targeted several Chinese cities, including Beijing Can you believe this? He wants to drop two three-hundred-and-fifty-kiloton nuclear warheads on Beijing! He must be crazy!"

  "What did you order him to do instead, sir?" Pak asked.

  "I ordered him to get out of the command center because I have removed him from his office!" Kwon shouted. "I don't want that madman in my military command center! I will find a replacement for him right away."

  "But what about the Chinese, sir?" Pak asked, the panic rising in his throat. "The report said that three brigades of tanks are on the highway from Kanggye heading south toward Anju-they say Anju could be captured in three days! They have total air superiority above the fortieth parallel. What are we going to do?"

  "We negotiate with President Jiang," Kwon said. "Trying to fight the Chinese People's Liberation Army will only result in more casualties on our side. Besides, reports from the Americans say that China only wants to destroy the nuclear weapons labs in Chagang Do province, and they will withdraw once that mission is accomplished. To tell the truth, I am not unhappy about that plan."

  "Mr. President, you cannot allow this to happen-you cannot simply let the Chinese march into Korea unopposed," Pak said. "It is an act of war already for China to step across the border, no matter what we've done to them. But for us to do nothing and simply let them destroy our military facilities and labs and take whatever they please is not right! They must be stopped!"

  "And how can we do that, Mr. Pak?" Kwon asked. "I have already appealed to the United Nations. The United States has asked for a special emergency meeting of the Security Council to discuss the invasion. The United States has again asked us to remove all of our weapons of mass destruction, and has agreed to set up a border monitoring system-without using American troops on Korean soil. I am going to ask the legislature to approve this measure ..."

  "That is all well and good for the future-if the Chinese Army will allow us to have a future!" Pak interjected. "Sir, you must retaliate. You promised the Korean people-my people, we from North Korea, the people that you promised would be safe from tyranny and dictatorship-that you would protect them. You have no choice but to act. Even if you fail, as General Kim has tonight, you must act."

  "But what if Korean soldiers and airmen are killed trying to stop the Chinese horde?" Kwon asked. "Their deaths would be needless and tragic. They-"

  "You are wrong, Mr. President," Pak told him sincerely. "Those soldiers and airmen are there because they want to be there, fighting for their country. They trust that we will direct them in defense of their homeland. We cannot, we must not, abdicate that responsibility, not to the United Nations, not to the-*United States, to no one. You have to give the order, sir."

  "What order? I have been in contact with the service chiefs and the director of National Security Planning. They offer no solutions other than appealing for aid."

  "You know the order that must be given," Pak said in a low voice. "You know. You must attack with special weapons." Kwon's eyes bugged out as if he had just seen a ghost rise out of a grave. "You have to target China's war machine, both on Korean soil and on Chinese soil. General Kim is not crazy. He knows we must act. You are the only one ..."

  "I will not!" Kwon shouted. "I will never give those codes! I would rather die than let myself be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of souls."

  Pak stared at Kwon for a moment, then slowly shook his head. He stepped over to the telephone on Kwon's desk. "Send in the attaché, please." A moment later, an Army officer entered the president's office, carrying an average-looking black briefcase. He set the briefcase on Kwon's desk before the president, turned it to face him, withdrew a key on a band around his left wrist, then stepped back a pace. "Mr. President, open the briefcase," Pak ordered.

  "I will not," Kwon replied. The Army officer looked puzzled, looking at both leaders in growing confusion.

  Pak Chung-chu reached into his jacket and withdrew a North Korean Type 64 automatic handgun with a six-inch sound suppressor attached. The Army officer gasped and tried to reach for his own sidearm, but Pak turned and fired a single round into his heart from ten feet away, killing him instantly.

  "You . . , you killed him!" Kwon exclaimed. "You bastard! He was innocent! He was a courier . . ."

  "Many will die tonight-he was just one more," Pak said coldly. He went over to the body, picked up the key, and inserted it into a lock on the briefcase. "Now you, Mr. President. Unlock the briefcase."

  "Or you will kill me too, Mr. Pak?" Kwon asked. "You seem to be
in the mood for killing tonight."

  "I suppose I am," Pak said-and he shot Kwon Kichae in the heart. After the initial pain of the 7.65millimeter slug, Kwon's face actually looked peaceful, relieved, as he collapsed to the floor and died.

  Pak retrieved the second key to the briefcase from Kwon's wrist and unlocked it. There were a series of twenty-five cards inside. Pak searched Kwon's body until he found a small card with a series of instructions on it. Whoever was responsible for the briefcase was given a code number at the beginning of the day; his task was to apply the day's code number and the current date-time group and come up with a code corresponding to one of the twenty-five cards in the briefcase.

  Kwon had never taken this exercise too seriously, after all, the minister of defense had to do exactly the same procedure, and then it had to be entered into the computers in the command center; enough checks and balances were involved. So when he was assigned the day's code number, he usually wrote it right on the day's decoding instruction card-a serious violation of security procedures, since anyone with the code number could issue the execution code. But that was Kwon Kichae, unconcerned about such details. Sure enough, the code number was right on the card. Kwon, Pak decided, just didn't have the intestinal fortitude to play this game.

  After selecting the current date-time group, applying the numbers to the instruction card, and coming up with the correct execution code card, Pak had to contact the command center and give them the execution code and the date-time group he used to choose the card. The minister of defense then had to use the same date-time group to come up with his execution code. Then both codes had to be relayed to the command center senior controller, who entered them into the prearming computer. If the codes matched and were within six minutes of the original date-time group, the computer would allow launch commands to be issued on the special communications network to all missile units.