Last Stand: Turning the Tide (Book 4)

by William H. Weber

  General Brooks grinned. “And with Phoenix taken care of, we can reduce the need for so much secrecy around here.”

  “Have you gotten anything useful out of him?” John asked.

  General Brooks shook his head. “No, but not for lack of trying. He claims he’d gone into the woods to go to the bathroom and not hand over secrets to the enemy.”

  “Hey, at least his excuse is original,” Moss said, grinning.

  “I wouldn’t mind having a word with him,” John suggested.

  General Brooks didn’t seem to like that idea. “You can when we’re done.”

  “Frankly, I think he should be taken out back and shot,” Ray said. “Just think how much American blood is on his hands.”

  John knew this wasn’t a time for rash emotional decisions. Brooks was right to work the spy and perhaps if they were lucky, they might even be able to convince him to swap sides.

  Moss slapped the table hard. “You know, I still can’t believe that David Newbury sold us out. His intel on the camp was really accurate.”

  “That is true,” John told them. “I also have to say our attack took the North Koreans completely by surprise.”

  “And I believe there’s a very good reason for that,” General Brooks replied, removing the demo IED and placing it back in the box at his feet. “We’ve come to understand that there are rifts between the members of the Eastern Alliance. The Chinese hold the North Koreans in contempt and the Russians feel the same way about both of their Asian allies.”

  “There might be an opportunity to exploit that,” John said, rubbing the three-day-old stubble on his chin. Neither he nor Moss had shaved in days.

  “With the attack on the concentration camp, I believe you already have,” Brooks replied. “The goal now is to push that even further.”

  “If we can get our hands on some Chinese army uniforms,” Moss said, “and attack a North Korean outpost, then we may be able to do just that.”

  “I’ll bring some members of the 3rd Infantry Division into the Rough Riders and put them in charge of that,” John said. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t be part of every single operation they launched. He would need to delegate command to subgroups of operatives, as he’d done with the IED team.

  Ray cleared his throat, still pink around the neck from his impassioned plea for Phoenix’s execution. “If you’re looking for a juicy target, I may have picked up something of interest.”

  Ripples appeared on General Brooks’ brow. “What’s your source?”

  “I got a little shortwave in the shed behind my house. One I was using back when Oneida was trying to warn other communities about the danger of fifth columnists like The Chairman. Even built my own Faraday cage and everything.” Ray glanced up and saw the impatience on the faces around him. “Anyway, one of the contacts I made near Los Angeles harbor told me yesterday he saw a large supply shipment being sent east by rail. Must be at least a dozen trains loaded with armor and fuel set to run through the Midwest all the way to Knoxville. I should be able to find out what line they’re on. Some of those IEDs you’re making might come in handy.” Ray grinned widely, exposing the fillings in his back molars.

  John and the others were impressed.

  “And here I was convinced you were an aspiring stand-up comedian,” Moss quipped.

  Ray let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Sounds promising,” Brooks said and turned to John. “I want you to put together a plan as soon as possible.”

  John nodded and made a note.

  The general motioned to Higgs. The colonel went to the door and made sure it was closed. “Before we wrap this meeting up,” Brooks said, “I want to share some news I recently learned from General Dempsey. Our 3rd and 7th Fleets in the Pacific were not destroyed by the enemy as we originally feared. When the EMP struck, they were both docked in Australian ports, where they stayed for several months, unable to make contact with home. Apparently returns from Alice Springs’ over-the-horizon radar indicated a massive surge of activity along the eastern coast of China. The CIA and NSA agents in Pine Springs at the time were quick to reach out to the governments of Australia and New Zealand on behalf of the United States, suspecting correctly that our capital and the country’s nerve center had been destroyed. Retrofitting the ships to use GLONASS satellite navigation gave our men the eyes they needed to begin planning a counterattack. From there the joint navies of America, Australia and New Zealand set out to retake the Pacific and cut off the Eastern Alliance’s lines of supply from the sea.”

  “Heck, it’s about time,” Moss said excitedly.

  “All we know so far is that we’ve had some small victories and suffered losses. The battles in the Pacific continue to rage at this very moment and as I get more information, I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

  Henry put his hand up. “Can I include this in my daily broadcast for The Voice of Freedom?”

  “I was hoping you would,” Brooks replied with enthusiasm. “But what I’m about to tell you gentlemen next can’t leave this room. Last night at approximately 0600 hours, a large NATO force landed near Halifax and took the port, opening a new front to the north. As the reinforcements from our European allies begin to flow, it should relieve some of the pressure on our boys along the Appalachians. It still isn’t clear whether that NATO force will move west against the Russians or south to threaten the Chinese left flank.”

  Either way it didn’t matter. America was no longer standing alone and the cheers that went up were so loud and spontaneous, General Brooks struggled to quiet them down. “It’s important we keep this under wraps for now,” he told them. “The Chinese are struggling to get their communications and supply lines back up and running. We’d hate to leak news of a surprise attack and ruin the whole thing.”

  Chapter 45

  General Wei Liang peered down from the VIP box at the fighting spectacle organized for the entertainment of his men. The improvised ring and stands, finished late last night, now contained nearly ten thousand PLA soldiers, enjoying some time away from the front lines. In the ring was a top kung-fu martial artist flown in from Hong Kong. Against him was an American POW Liang had had shipped up from one of the camps in Alabama. The American was bigger, of course, but what the Asian fighter lacked in strength, he more than made up for in speed and technique. Regardless, this would be an interesting battle and one that would help to feed Liang’s itch for gambling. The Chinese fighter was favored six to one and so Liang had discreetly put twenty-five thousand yuan on the American.

  The bell had no sooner sounded than the kung-fu fighter charged out, swinging his fists and kicking aggressively. The bulky American backed away, his arms working to block the furious assault.

  Just then an unusually tall, handsome Chinese soldier approached the general.

  “You asked to see me?” he said, passing Liang’s guards and entering the VIP booth.

  Down in the ring, the kung-fu fighter ducked a wild punch from the American and countered with a hammerblow strike to the chest. The crowd went wild.

  “Your reputation for quelling anti-Communist uprisings in Tibet precedes you,” General Liang said without averting his eyes from the spectacle. The man next to him was Zhang Shuhong. Six foot two, with chiseled features, he was a special forces commander who, like the general, had come from a humble background in the city of Xinyu, southern China.

  “I take pride in my work, sir.”

  Confident, but not too cocky. Any more and he would have suspected Zhang was trying to compensate for some hidden insecurity.

  Both men watched the fight for a moment in silence. The American wasn’t doing very well and the crowd was loving every minute of it.

  “I asked you here to fix a problem for me.”

  “Yes, I heard of the attack on Camp Shènglì.” The word meant ‘victory.’ The irony wasn’t lost on either man.

  Since the incident, two more camps had been brazenly overrun by A
merican insurgents. Now even more prisoners were on the loose and the escalating problem was beginning to eat up resources Liang couldn’t spare. He’d asked Zhang here to help him stem the bleeding. He handed the commander a folder.

  Zhang opened it, reading the first of a series of dossiers. “John Mack. Age forty-five. A retired lieutenant with the 278th Armored Cavalry Regiment.”

  “That should read colonel,” Liang said. “He’s been promoted.”

  “What are the Rough Riders?” Zhang asked, scanning the page.

  “Apparently it’s the name they’ve given their particular insurgency group.”

  Zhang smiled. “Sounds like something from a western.”

  Returning the gesture, the general said, “I assumed the same thing. They’re in love with that bygone era and fail to see the future even when it’s staring them in the face. I want him and his men caught. Dead or alive. Either one is acceptable. And when you’re done, Mack’s corpse will be displayed as a warning to anyone who dares stand against us.”

  Down in the ring, the kung-fu fighter threw a spinning back kick. The move was caught by the American, who swept his legs out from under him. The larger man then fell on top of his small, but agile foe, slowly working him into a choke hold.

  The sound of the Asian man’s neck snapping stunned the crowd into silence. Their surprise was so complete that the smirk on Liang’s face went unnoticed by those around him. It was the look of a man who was heading for a winning streak.

  Chapter 46

  The light from an oil lamp flickered off the walls of the Rough Rider headquarters. In the planning room, John, Moss and Specialist Heller, the explosives expert from Alpha squad, were pouring over maps of Lenoir City, Tennessee, an area south of Oak Ridge and west of Knoxville. A section of the Norfolk Southern Railway line ran through the town, hugging the Little Tennessee River on its way to Knoxville. John followed it with his finger until he came to a turn in the rail line.

  “This is where we’ll set the IEDs,” he told them.

  “On a curve?” Moss asked, moving closer to get a better look at the map.

  “Always,” John told him. “First off, it’ll give us the best chance of derailing the train.”

  Heller’s eyes lit up. “And second, there are plenty more straight tracks than curved ones so repair will be more difficult.”

  “Precisely. We’ll wire up three mortars buried beneath the tracks and attached to a pressure plate. As soon as the Chinese steam engine rolls over it, the IEDs will blow and derail the train along with its supply cars.” John glanced over his notes. “Only six of us will be going on this one.”

  “What about the others?” Moss asked.

  “I’ve got another Rough Rider team under Hoffman heading east toward Johnson City to take out a low-level Chinese general. Another group is going west to attack a North Korean checkpoint dressed as Chinese soldiers.”

  “You found the uniforms?” Moss asked.

  John shook his head. “Sort of. We decided to use what we pulled off the dead Chinese soldiers who attacked the town. It took a bit of mix-and-matching, but I think it turned out all right.”

  Heller didn’t look convinced. “Don’t you think they’ll be able to tell Americans from their own people?”

  “No one at the checkpoint will be left alive to talk about it, but we’ve picked a place where there’ll be plenty of witnesses. From a distance, all they’ll see are Chinese uniforms.”

  Nodding, Moss said, “You want the North Koreans to think the Chinese are giving them payback for failing to stop the attack on the truck depot and the concentration camp.”

  “Bingo. Listen, they may not totally buy it, but I wanna plant a seed of doubt in their minds. Anything we can do to drive a wedge into this fragile alliance only works in our favor.”

  A knock came at the door and John pulled it open to find Gregory. He checked his watch, seeing that it was nearly eleven at night. “I thought you were asleep?”

  “I tried. Kept tossing and turning.”

  John glanced back at Moss and Heller. “I’m kinda in the middle of something important, bud. There’s a couch over there. Why don’t you lie down and try to get some rest.”

  Gregory did and John couldn’t help but wonder if the horrifying images of what he’d seen at the camp were keeping his son from sleeping.

  As the meeting resumed, the look of unabashed optimism on Moss’ face was almost contagious. “You know me, boss, I’m about as skeptical as they come, but I’m starting to feel like we may have a real chance of winning this thing.”

  John nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “I mean, that meeting we had with General Brooks. Australia and New Zealand helping us in the Pacific. The NATO landings. We aren’t alone anymore.”

  John let out a sigh as he rearranged the papers on the desk.

  “What is it?”

  “Heller, will you excuse us for a moment?” John said.

  “Sure thing,” the specialist replied, confused. “I’ll start putting those pressure plates together.”

  When he left the room, Moss took a step back, his body stiffening as though John were about to lay into him.

  “There’s something you need to know about that meeting with Brooks,” John said.

  “I don’t like that look on your face.”

  “The intel on the war in the Pacific is accurate, but that NATO force…” John trailed off.

  “What are you saying?” Moss asked. It looked like he’d just been kicked in the gut.

  “I’m saying I’ve heard from other sources the landing in Halifax isn’t nearly what Brooks made it out to be. It’s far closer to the Dieppe raid than it is to D-Day. We know and trust each other, which is why I’m telling you this. I just didn’t want you getting your hopes too high.”

  “But why feed us a bunch of lies?” Moss said, baring his teeth. “And don’t feed me a line about morale and propaganda.”

  “It is, in part,” John admitted. “It’s also about making sure everyone’s on the same team.”

  “But we caught Phoenix,” Moss almost pleaded and then paused. “You mean there might be more spies?”

  “I don’t think so,” John said. “But Brooks is just making sure.”

  Another knock at the door and this time Moss was the one who answered it.

  Henry looked up at them, his shoulders drooping. “I’ve got some bad news.”

  “There’s a shocker,” Moss spat.

  “We’ve just got some intel that the team you sent to plant IEDs along I-40 have been killed.”

  John felt the blood drain from his cheeks. “Any word how it happened?” he asked, his fingers curling into tight fists.

  “We’ve only got one army translator, but from the bits of chatter we’re picking up, it sounds like they were taken out by Chinese special forces.”

  John tapped an index finger on the map table. “Okay, Henry. Thank you.” His radio operator turned to leave when John called him back. “Keep this between us for now, will you? I wouldn’t want this sort of news getting out.”

  A hint of reluctance showed on Henry’s face before he acknowledged the order and closed the door behind him.

  “It was only a question of time,” John told his number two, “before they brought in counter-insurgency teams.”

  “Those are the risks,” Moss replied. “But do you really think keeping it a secret is the best play? We’ve already got a handful of top people thinking the cavalry’s on its way from Halifax harbor to help turn things in our favor. Have we become a nation of folks who lie for the greater good? I mean, the EMP was a horrible thing to happen, but it’s given us another shot at starting over. At doing it right this time.”

  “America didn’t invent state secrets, Moss. As much as the world likes to blame us for everything that goes wrong around the globe, this game’s been going on for thousands of years. Revolutions have been fought over the centuries to overthrow elements of human nature we can’t cha
nge. The Russians tried in vain to end inequality by ushering in a system that failed to take into account the realities of what makes us tick. Whether we like it or not, each of us is controlled by our emotions. Before the EMP a huge chunk of the population voted for new presidents based on how they looked and a few choice soundbites. If he’d been born decades later, a wheelchair-bound president like Franklin D. Roosevelt would have faced a resounding defeat. So you’re right. We do have a chance to change things, but we can’t change the wiring deep down. People need hope and sometimes you need to keep that flame from going out by withholding the bad news and exaggerating the good.” John grew quiet for a moment before he said, “I wish I could say more, but you’ll understand soon enough.”

  Chapter 47

  When Diane awoke the next morning, John had already left. Another mission and another roll of the dice, she thought philosophically. He’d come home late the night before, carrying a sleeping Gregory in his arms, as well as a look of remorse. That normally meant some bad news had arrived, something connected to an order he’d given in the past. Diane could read it in her husband’s body language, the way his spine seemed slightly bent under a tremendous weight.

  After a quick breakfast with the kids, she headed to the greenhouse. If all went well, it would finally be back in operation. Already, with the recent influx of soldiers from the 3rd Infantry Division, the strain on their resources had grown significantly. The power from Ray Gruber’s two windmills was going to be a huge help, running the lights, power tools and the hydroponic greenhouse. And that was one of the reasons why the sight that greeted her at the greenhouse was so disturbing.

  The blades on one of the windmills had stopped turning. Two men on Diane’s team were doing their best to figure out how to fix it, but she knew this was no place to be poking around. They needed Ray.