Battle Born pm-8

by Dale Brown

  “This is Firebird,” Dave Luger responded. They authenticated themselves once again; then: “Hey, Muck, we just got a call from Avalanche, the AWACS controlling your Red force in the range. They relayed a safety-of-flight violation regarding your crew. Claim you busted the ROE by flying too close to the fighters?”

  “They call a KIO?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “You get any radar data?”

  “It’s coming in now… Yep, it looks like your guys flew within a half mile of one of the F-15s. ROE says two miles on day one. Avalanche passed along more radar data that says you did it earlier too, but the Red force recorded no violation.”

  That was it, Patrick thought. A range safety violation was an instant bust on a predeployment exercise. If it was toward the end of a successful exercise, or if it was once at the beginning of an exercise, it might be forgiven — but not twice in one sortie. “Copy,” he said. “Ask if Bullrider still wants to play.”

  “Stand by,” Dave Luger responded. A moment later: “Message from Bullrider flight reads as follows: shit yes we’ll play. Any ROE the Bones will comply with, they’ll accept.”

  “Relay to Bullrider that the fight’s on, level three ROE,” Patrick said. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, we’re monitoring something on Air Combat Command’s tactical comm network, an ‘all stations’ alert broadcast,” Luger replied. “We’re polling all our sources, but everyone seems to be shutting up and not answering the phones, just listening. We might hear it on CNN before we hear it from the DoD.”

  “Okay,” Patrick said distractedly. They were fast approaching the second target complex. “I’ll call you back after we leave the range.”

  “Copy. Sorry about the bust. Have fun. Firebird out.”

  THE WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM

  THAT SAME TIME

  No, wait… sir, it’s not an invasion,” Secretary of Defense Chastain said in shock at the Pentagon reports he was hearing. “It isn’t troops crossing the DMZ—civilians are. North Korean civilians. By the thousands. And there’s no resistance from the South. All South Korean border posts are deserted. No response at all from North Korean border troops either. The DMZ is wide open and completely unmanned on either side. Hundreds of artillery emplacements, rocket launchers, tank traps, response routes, minefields — all deserted. On both sides.”

  “What?” Martindale exclaimed. “It must be some kind of mistake.”

  “I’ll get confirmation, sir.” But he stopped short. “Sir, I’m getting another report. This one’s from the Korean Central News Agency — that’s the official North Korean government bureau of propaganda. They’re broadcasting that riots have broken out all over Pyongyang and that Government House and the presidential palace are under siege. They are calling for support from the Army to help put down the riots. And wait, more reports… They say that the central radio and TV broadcasting center is also under siege. They’re broadcasting mobilization orders to dozens of active, reserve, and paramilitary units, including the two corps units set up to protect the capital.”

  “That’s odd,” said the President. “Why would the civil broadcasting system be used to issue response and assistance orders? Why not use the military networks?”

  “And why haven’t those units already responded to the South Korean attacks?” asked Philip Freeman, the national security adviser. “They must have seen those South Korean jets coming almost as soon as they left their bases, and certainly long before they even crossed the DMZ. That was almost twenty minutes ago. What the hell’s going on over there?”

  Chastain put his hand up, listening intently; then he lowered the headset and stared at it blankly. “Arthur?” Freeman asked. “What’s happened?”

  “KCNA just went off the air,” Chastain replied. “It reported that the government information bureau said the headquarters was being overrun by rioters and agitators, supported by deserting Regular Army soldiers. Then someone else came on a few minutes later and identified himself as a supporter of the new United Republic of Korea.”

  “The what?” Martindale asked. “Is that a nationalist faction? An opposition group?”

  “I don’t know,” Chastain said. “Never heard of it before. But they claim to be the representatives of the new United Korea. They claim that President Kim Jong-il has evacuated the capital along with several members of the Korean Politburo and his cabinet. They say he’s on his way to China to seek asylum.”

  “This… this is extraordinary,” Martindale exclaimed. “I can’t believe this is happening. North Korea is simply… capitulating? The borders and checkpoints just disappeared?”

  “It’s Germany all over again, sir,” announced Director of Central Intelligence Robert Plank as he strode quickly into the Situation Room, carrying a stack of reports and photographs. “Sorry I’m late, sir, but I had to wait for all the latest downloads and field reports. It’s true. Entire Regular Army, Reserves, and paramilitary units are deserting their commands and either marching on Pyongyang to join the rioters or moving south with their families and a few belongings. When they reach the Military Demarcation Line, they just keep right on going, because all of the South Korean checkpoints are wide open. Panmunjom, Kangseri, Kumhwa, Sehyonni, Sohwari — every one of the border towns has opened the barricades. All of the tank traps and artillery emplacements are still manned, but they’re simply standing by in place — there’s no attempt to stop, detain, search, or identify anyone. An entire army of spies could be crossing into the South, and nobody would know it. The minefields are being blown up in place—by South Korean soldiers. They’re clearing a safe path for anyone from the North to cross over.”

  “What’s the status of our bases?” the President asked.

  “All secure and closed up tight,” said Arthur Chastain. “However, the Korean-owned bases are wide open. They’re being used as relocation and refugee centers. It’s absolutely incredible. The South has simply opened its doors.”

  “That’s right,” said Plank. “Route 1, Route 3, Route 43, Route 5—all roads and highways that cross the MDL are open. No border inspections, no searches, no identity papers required. The South Korean government’s already begun opening up relocation offices along the DMZ to assist North Koreans in finding relatives — it’s clear they had it all planned. They’re providing transportation away from the no-man’s-lands around the border areas and are even changing North Korean won to South Korean currency! It’s the most incredible thing I’ve seen since the fall of the Berlin Wall.”

  “I’ve got to talk to China,” the President said. “It’s urgent that I speak with President Jiang directly, right away.”

  “State is working on it,” Chief of Staff Jerrod Hale called out in response.

  The President shook his head in frustration. Jiang Zemin rarely spoke to world leaders on the phone and never initiated calls. Martindale, too, preferred face-to-face talks, but this was a crisis, and this cultural stigma against using the telephone was maddening. “Bob, what are the Chinese doing?”

  “Sir, I know it seems extraordinary — but I don’t think they’re doing anything,” Plank replied. “All I have are the daily force status reports, but they all reported normal deployments and no unannounced troop or aircraft movements.”

  “But what can they hit us with? What kind of retaliation can we expect?”

  “Sir, there’s about a quarter of a million Chinese troops within one day’s march of the North Korean border, and those troops can easily cross into South Korea and overrun the capital within days — we couldn’t stop them if we wanted to without using nukes,” Plank said. “We’re trying to get a more precise status report now, but that could take a few hours. There are about a dozen rocket and artillery units that can launch an attack within moments, and another dozen with weapons that can easily reach into South Korea. The truth is, they can retaliate at any moment.”

  “If we launch our planes or mobilize any troops, we’ll look like we’re participating in
what’s happening,” said Freeman. “And if we don’t, they’ll get slaughtered if China or North Korea attacks.”

  The President nodded. “We’re sunk no matter what we do — unless everyone holds fast and stays away from the red button,” he said. “I hope our words get to Jiang.” He thought for a moment, then said, “Transmit an order to all our forces: everybody stand by. We watch and wait. No aircraft lift off — not reconnaissance, not intelligence, not support, and especially not attack planes.”

  “Mr. President,” Freeman said earnestly, “I strongly advise you take your command center airborne. That’s the safest place for you, and you can still keep in close contact with all your forces globally.”

  “Will the Russians or the Chinese know if I depart Washington?”

  “Yes… probably, after a time,” Freeman said, after glancing at Plank and getting a nod. “But that doesn’t matter. You should—”

  “Then I’m staying,” the President said resolutely. “Unless we actually see ICBMs appearing over the horizon, I’m staying. That goes for the senior leadership as well.”

  “Sir, you know that if the Russians launch an attack, all of our political and bureaucratic institutions will suffer greatly, even be wiped out,” Jerrod Hale said. “Congress is still in session; the entire leadership is still in town…”

  “I don’t think the people will give a rat’s ass if the political and bureaucratic institutions get wiped out, Jerrod,” the President said wryly. “In fact, I think they’ll see it as a sad but welcome relief.” Then his tone grew serious. “But since you mention it, you’d better send a military aide over to the congressional leadership and let them know what’s happening. I’ll leave it up to them if they want to adjourn. But make sure they know I’m staying.”

  “But, sir,” Hale protested, trying once more to convince his boss that it was not a safe move to stay, “the National Airborne Operations Center aircraft were designed and tasked to provide global communications in fluid emergency situations such as this. It is not a symbol of panic, desperation, aggression, or cowardice to use them.”

  “It is to me, Jerrod,” the President answered. “Besides, I’m not going to run to the safety of the skies while the Vice President is in the middle of a nuclear fire storm. Now, since State hasn’t been able to get through, you see if you can get President Jiang on the phone for me — and see to it that the congressional leadership is up to speed about what’s going on.”

  As his chief of staff got on the telephone, President Martindale’s eyes were on the banks of computer and TV monitors but not really watching them. CNN was showing a live broadcast from Seoul, which was little more than a cloud of black smoke on the horizon toward the site of a high-explosive rocket barrage and a chemical weapons attack. He had seen much worse. Then the focus shifted to the streets. They were filled with cars and people, but there was no sign of panic. In fact, it looked like the reverse. Surreal, that’s what it was. There was a military attack under way, but it was as if the crowds realized something else was happening — something long awaited.

  Just then Jerrod Hale, phone in hand, shouted, “Mr. President! It’s the Vice President, calling from Osan!”

  “Thank God,” Martindale said. He snatched the telephone out of Hale’s hand. “Ellen! Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, we’re all right,” Whiting replied. “We had a close call, but everyone inside the facility here survived. The fallout levels were low enough, so they decided to evacuate us.”

  “Good,” he said. “We thought you didn’t make it. Information is coming out very slowly, in bits. Where are you? We’ll send someone to fly you out.”

  “I’ve got at least a couple of hundred marines within a stone’s throw of me right now,” Whiting said, her voice cheerful. “I feel very safe. They can evacuate me out in one of those tilt-rotor planes any minute, but I’m not ready to go back just yet.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Mr. President, President Kwon is going to Pyongyang,” Whiting said. “He’s meeting with First Vice President Pak Chung-chu of North Korea, who apparently has been helping Kwon orchestrate this revolution for many months. Mr. President, the Communist government in Pyongyang, the entire Politburo, has fled the country, and the North Korean People’s Army has disbanded. Kwon and Pak are going to announce the formation of a new democratic government, headquartered in Pyongyang. The peninsula has been reunited, Mr. President. Korea is one. And I would like to be there when they make the announcement.”

  Martindale sank into his chair. The reports Chastain had relayed were real. This was truly unbelievable. “Ellen… Ellen, how can you be sure it’s safe for you?”

  “I guess I can’t, Kevin,” Whiting replied. “But I feel I have to go. I’m going to take all the marines I can in the tilt-rotor, probably twenty or thirty. Kwon and Pak are taking an enormous risk, far greater than me.” She paused. “Mr. President, this is an extraordinary opportunity for peace in Asia. It’s up to us to seize it. The two leaders plan on meeting in three hours in Pyongyang. I want to be there. I want representatives from China, Russia, and Japan to be there too. If we do this, if all six of the participants in the Korean split appear at once when the peninsula wants to reunify, no one can argue that this is illegitimate. What do you say?”

  “I’m worried about your safety, Ellen,” Martindale answered. “But… of course. I’ll call Beijing, Moscow, and Tokyo and try to arrange for some representatives, the highest-ranking ones I can find willing to go to Pyongyang so soon after the nuclear attacks. But make sure you listen to the marines. If they think it’s unsafe, if they can’t guarantee your safety, I want you out of there.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. This is going to be wonderful. I can feel it.”

  “Maybe. But things are still explosive over there, Ellen. Remember, this revolution is still only hours old. Don’t take any more chances. There’s plenty of time for announcements and proclamations and photo ops when things are calmer.”

  He heard the line go dead abruptly. Another thrill of panic shot down Martindale’s spine, and he held the phone to his ear for several long moments, hoping she would come back on the line.

  Then he hung up. “She’s going to Pyongyang,” he said.

  “What? Pyongyang?” Plank exclaimed. “The capital of North Korea? Why? Has she been captured? Is she all right?”

  “She sounds all right,” the President responded. “In fact, very much so. And apparently there is no North Korea anymore. The Politburo has fled the country, and the army has disbanded.”

  “There is no way we can verify that, sir!” Plank insisted. “Just because South Korean planes are freely flying over the North and they’ve opened the borders doesn’t mean the North is safe for foreigners to travel, let alone the Vice President. It’s too hazardous!”

  “Sir, we wouldn’t let the Vice President go to Disneyland without adequate preparation by an advance team,” the chief of staff reminded the President. “We should at least try to postpone this. One day. Twelve hours. It’ll give military intelligence a chance to look the place over first.”

  “I hear you,” the President said, “and I agree one hundred percent. But events are moving too fast. President Kwon is on his way to Pyongyang right now, and he’s going to stand right beside the vice president of North Korea and make the proclamation that will stun the world. We need to be part of it. Ellen accepts the risk, and I”—he swallowed hard—”and I accept the responsibility.”

  To Secretary of State Jeffrey Hartman, he said, “Jeff, Ellen says Kwon and Pak are requesting representatives of Russia, China, and Japan at the announcement. Make some calls and find out if they’re interested.”

  The United Republic of Korea. United Korea. Despite a few apparently knee-jerk rocket launches, it really was virtually a bloodless birth: the people throwing off the shackles of communism that had left them ostracized by the rest of their country — and by the rest of the world. First independent Taiwan, now U
nited Korea. What a way to start the new millennium!

  But the wild card was still China. Would they stand aside and watch their Communist brothers vanish before their eyes? Would they launch the massive attack everyone had long feared they would?

  “Jerrod.”

  “Sir?”

  “Alert the media. Address to the nation in thirty minutes, from the Oval Office.” He took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to announce my support of the United Republic of Korea.”

  OVER SOUTH-CENTRAL NEVADA

  THAT SAME TIME

  Aces, Two-Zero is defensive, triple-A at T3,” Rebecca Furness, who was now dropping on their second target, said on the interplane frequency just as Patrick switched back to normal radio.

  “What d’ya got, Go-Fast?” Rinc radioed.

  “Big-time concentrations of triple-A north of T3,” Rebecca said. “We had to scram west.”

  “Time for an airshow, boss,” Rinc said on inter-plane. “Aces Two-Zero, how about airshow north plus three minutes, repeat, airshow north plus three.”

  “No way,” Furness responded. “Just do the run and do the best you can with the threats. We’ll be behind you to try again.”

  “Beck, they’ll be expecting attacks from the same axis as before — we can’t give it to them,” Rinc said. “Airshow north plus three. That’s plenty of room, and the range is ours.”

  There was a slight pause; then: “All right, Rinc. If you don’t have a visual on us by three, scram east, I’ll go west. Don’t screw this up, Seaver!”

  “Penetrate, decimate, dominate,” Seaver said. “Kick ass, Beck!”

  “Steering’s good, Rodeo,” Long said, after quickly entering several commands into his nav computer.

  “What’s the plan, guys?” Patrick asked. “What’s an airshow?”

  “You’ll see, General,” Rinc replied. “Just keep the bad guys off our butts, Ollie. Here we go.” Seaver pushed the throttles into full military power, moved the wing sweep handle forward to thirty-six degrees, then started a steep climb and a fast turn toward the new destination coordinates.