Invasion: Alaska ia-1, page 26
part #1 of Invasion America Series
In the lobby, Major Johnson—an aide to General Alan—jumped off the far end of the couch. “You Chinese gooks!” Johnson’s blue eyes were hard as he stared angrily at the screen.
Anna Chen’s shoulders hunched. Why did people, and men in particular, have the need for racial slurs? She did not like the war with China. She desperately hoped for an American victory. Why did these horrible images stir in people the need for racial hatred?
Man is tribal. He has a need to love his own and hate the other. The Chinese kill our tribe, hence, his tribesmen are gooks and worse. As long as we are human, this trait will remain no matter how hard we try to eradicate it.
“Do you see that?” Johnson shouted. “Those dirty gooks don’t fight fair.”
Anna had been looking at Johnson. She now turned back to the screen.
American F-35s screamed out of the overcast, gray sky, with air-to-air missiles launching from under their wings. The Chinese attack choppers fled, racing for a thick stand of pines. Beyond was dirty-colored water, and beyond the miles-wide body of water were more pines, decorated with snow.
A hidden ground-based laser must have fired. An F-35 tumbled earthward, one of its wings sheared off.
“No,” Johnson groaned.
The other fighters broke off, some diving, others rocketing higher into the sky. Chinese missiles roared after them. It looked now as if the helicopters had been bait for a trap. Another F-35 exploded.
“Such destruction,” Anna said.
Johnson sat down near her, with his hands clasped between his knees. He was intent on the screen. “This is going to be a disaster.”
Anna didn’t acknowledge him or his words. His earlier racial epithets still stung.
A wall buzzer went off. Glumly, Johnson checked his cell phone. “The President has returned,” he said. “Are you ready?”
Anna stood up, heading for the conference room.
* * *
General Alan was speaking about the ongoing retreat into the mountains. Highway One cut across the Kenai Peninsula going from west to east. Moose Pass, or Highway Nine, went from Seward to Anchorage, south to north.
“Along Highway One,” General Alan said, “the Chinese are smashing everything we put in their path. In Moose Pass, our men give ground grudgingly and slowly. Unfortunately, once the Chinese reach the Junction of Highway One and Nine, the soldiers bottling up the Chinese in Moose Pass will have to retreat.”
“We badly need armor up there,” the Defense Secretary said. “By armor I mean tanks. And not just our M1A2 tanks, we need some of the modern armor. We need more anti-air cover. We need some real soldiers, not just the Alaskan National Guard and Militiamen.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” General Alan said, “the men facing the Chinese are real soldiers.”
“These soldier-boys haven’t stopped the enemy,” the Defense Secretary said.
“We can’t ask them to do more than they’re capable of doing.”
“I do ask that and I will continue to do so,” the Defense Secretary said, pounding the table. “We must halt the Chinese! The main ports are in Anchorage, and the international airport is there. We can’t let the Chinese reach the city. We certainly can’t allow them to break out of Anchorage and get to the mountain passes beyond. If they pour the Chinese Army into South Central Alaska, it would take an American bloodbath to drive them out.”
The thought of that brought silence to the underground chamber.
“We must stop them before Anchorage,” the President said. “We will stop them. First, do we have more information concerning the formations our men our facing?”
“Yes, sir,” said General Alan. “In almost every instance so far, we have faced Chinese naval infantry. They are structured much like our Marine Corps.”
“Sir,” the Defense Secretary said. “Does it matter if they’re naval troops or Chinese Army?”
“What’s your point?” the President asked, sounding nettled.
“The issue at hand, sir,” the Defense Secretary said, “is how to stop them dead in their tracks. We keep feeding them units piecemeal, trying to plug their advance. Clearly, that hasn’t been working.”
“What else do you suggest?” the President asked.
“Call the Canadian Prime Minister and talk him into helping us. We helped them during the Quebec Separatist War. Surely, a few Canadian battalions rushed to Alaska could do wonders.”
“The Canadians don’t want anything to do with this,” the Secretary of State said.
“Then we must rush mass reinforcements to Alaska,” the Defense Secretary said.
General Alan spread his slender hands. “Sir, we’ve been trying to do just that.”
“Not hard enough apparently,” the Defense Secretary said.
“It’s not like it used to be,” General Alan said. “Storms rage in the Yukon and in upper British Columbia. Ice and snow block the passes and many of the roads. The storms have cut off Alaska to everything except carefully rerouted air-travel.”
The Defense Secretary slammed the table with his fist. His pudgy face was crimson and his eyes were red-rimmed. He was a Southerner, a hot-tempered man known as “the Knife” for how he’d slashed the defense budget during his time in office.
“The Chinese made an unprovoked attack,” he said. “According to the records, they destroyed a Californian oil rig and then sneakily targeted two of our carriers. There was never a formal declaration of war, simply these unforgivable attacks on sovereign American territory. They have burned away any goodwill we might have. They’ve tossed aside the accepted rules of war, and therefore we’re warranted to do the same.”
“What are you suggesting, Tom?” the President asked.
“No one wants nuclear winter, sir,” the Defense Secretary said.
Anna’s chest tightened. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this.
“Our military is in full stage rout,” the Defense Secretary said. “The Chinese are racing toward Anchorage, the pivot point of the State.”
“Wait,” said Green. “If it’s troops we need, what about those in the North Slope oilfields?”
“They await the Chinese ice-mobile attack,” General Alan said.
“Have these ice-mobile formations attacked yet?” Green asked.
“Not yet,” General Alan admitted.
“Maybe that was all a bluff,” Green said, “used to draw away military strength from the critical area at the key time.”
“Explain that,” the President said.
“What are the Chinese ice-mobile units doing now?” Green asked.
“Unfortunately, we have no idea,” General Alan said. “The GPS drones are needed elsewhere.”
One of the military aides had explained about the GPS drones earlier. They were inexpensive, lightweight, high-endurance and high-altitude flyers that took the place of expensive satellites. Most American high-altitude GPS drones belonged to the Navy, and they were being used on the Southern Front.
“Maybe the Chinese sent supplies north to Ambarchik Base in order to fool us,” Green said. “The Chinese mindset seems to prefer elaborate plans with hidden deceptions. Perhaps they believed we would discover their invasion plan before it occurred. This deception was meant for us to waste precious military resources in a place they never intended to attack.”
“Are you suggesting the Chinese are not headed for the North Slope oilfields?” the President asked.
“It’s a possibility,” said Green.
“We can’t know that,” said General Alan. “Maybe the polar taskforce hit blizzards along the way. Maybe it’s much harder crossing the icepack with several brigades-worth of men and vehicles than anyone could imagine. Maybe even as we speak the Chinese are getting ready to strike the North Slope.”
“Or maybe it’s time to take a risk,” Green said. “Tom says we’re about to lose Anchorage. Very well, use the troops protecting the oilfields to redeploy to Anchorage.”
“Redeploy how?” asked General Alan. “The Alaskan rail-line ends at Fairbanks. We would need to use precious air-transports to move them. We need those transports to air-ferry troops and supplies from the south. No. I can’t see how it will help us to lose both the oilfields and Anchorage.”
“What good are the oilfields if Anchorage falls?” Green asked. “Maybe it is time to deicide which point is most important and protect it with everything we have. The many mountains ranges and the vast distances between the oilfields and Anchorage means the ice-mobile formations could never help attack South Central Alaska. The cross-polar attack, if it is really coming, is only good for capturing the oilfields.”
Deep lines appeared on the President’s forehead. “That’s a cogent point, Colin. The Marine Commandant said something similar to me this morning.”
“Sir,” said General Alan, “I doubt there’s time for such a redeployment in any case, not at the present rate of the Chinese advance to Anchorage. We have to stop them with what we already have in place.”
“That’s my point,” the Defense Secretary said. “We must stop them now.”
“You’re not suggesting tactical nuclear weapons?” the President asked.
“Tactical?” the Defense Secretary asked. “No. The short-ranged missiles would likely never make it to target. They’re too fragile, and despite their short-range, they’re in the air too long, giving the enemy a radar fix. Have you seen the lasers stabbing our aircraft?”
Anna thought about the video showing that less than an hour ago.
“Those battlefield lasers are primarily for stopping tactical nuclear weapons,” the Defense Secretary said. “No. I’m talking about ICBMs—strategic nuclear weapons—targeted on the invasion fleet. Our ICBMs are big, armored and many have complex EW equipment onboard. They’d fall down straight from space and enough should get through the Chinese tactical laser defense.” The Defense Secretary made a sweeping motion. “We’d remove their fleet from the board and see what happens to their vaunted invasion force then.”
Anna’s mouth dried out. Talk of strategic nuclear weapons was sickening. Some of the people looked shocked like her. Others seemed to consider the Defense Secretary’s words.
“Some of our non-nuclear ASBMs got through before,” the Defense Secretary said. “If just a few nuclear warheads hit the fleet, our worries would vanish like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The Chinese couldn’t sustain the attack because their naval infantry already ashore would quickly run out of supplies, never mind their sudden lack of air support. We’d have won the war.”
“That’s an interesting point,” the President said.
The Secretary of State sipped his water and ran a thick hand through his strands of hair. Lines appeared in his forehead. Then he swiveled his head to gaze at Anna.
“Ms. Chen,” the Secretary of State said. “How do you think the Chairman would view such an attack?”
“Sir?” she whispered.
“Would the Chairman respond with a strategic nuclear attack on our heartland?” the Secretary of State asked, “Or would he accept our strike as one of the prices of battle?”
“It is hard to know,” Anna said carefully. Then she was aware of every eye focused on her. It was at that moment she truly realized that she had become the Chairman expert. It’s why she was here. “Yes…there is a possibility he would launch a strike at our heartland, as you say.”
“A possibility,” the Defense Secretary said. “It’s a gamble then, not a foregone conclusion. Sir,” he told the President, “I think this is a gamble worth taking.”
“Are the seven carriers bunched together?” the Secretary of State asked.
“As you know,” General Alan said, “we’ve used high-level flights and recon drones to try to pinpoint their position. The Chinese keep shooting those down and shifting their ships.” He looked up. “It’s almost as if they expect a nuclear attack.”
“Mr. President,” Anna said, “could I interject a point?”
“Please do, Ms. Chen.”
“I believe the Chairman would think along conventional Chinese lines concerning nuclear weapons. Ever since Chairman’s Mao’s time, they have believed—or they have stated—that China will win any nuclear exchange.”
“We’re all familiar with the statement,” the Defense Secretary said. “But that’s not the point here. We’re not talking about firing at China, but at her fleet, the one the Chairman used to stab us in the back. Do we let them grab Alaska, or do we use our nuclear missiles to stop them?”
“And risk ending the world,” the Secretary of State said.
“If you want to be melodramatic about it,” the Defense Secretary said. “But then why did we build the ICBMs if we’re not going to use them?”
“Mr. President,” Anna said, “I’m beginning to suspect the Chairman and his advisors would think much like the Defense Secretary. Great men in power follow similar lines of logic.”
The Defense Secretary became somber as he eyed Anna.
“Can you clarify that?” the President asked.
Anna nodded. “If we destroyed their fleet through a full-scale ICBM attack, I think they would strike our military bases with a retaliatory strike.”
“Those bases now all lie within America,” the Secretary of State said.
“But they’re invading our country!” shouted the Defense Secretary. “How could they dare be upset at us for destroying their invasion force?”
“If I may interject one more point,” Anna said. “I think you should notice that they have refrained from using nuclear weapons. I believe that is critical.”
“They don’t need to use them,” the Defense Secretary said. “They’re winning.”
“No,” the President said, as he looked at Anna. “No nuclear weapons. The Chinese have not used them. We will not use them. I will not begin World War Three, the last war with a nuclear exchange. We must stop the Chinese, but we must figure out a way to do it with conventional arms.” He checked his watch. “We’ll take another short break. Then we will meet again and figure out some means to increase our odds of victory.”
SOUTHERN FRONT, ALASKA
The air wings from the seven Chinese carriers would have established air superiority over Alaska but for two key elements: defensive lasers and massed SAM sites providing safe havens for the American pilots.
First, there were the strategic ABM laser stations. The nearest was at Talkeetna, in the Denali National Park, well north of Anchorage. It protected the city from direct Chinese air assaults. There were also two mobile laser batteries ringing Anchorage airport. They were small, tactical weapons as compared to the giant pulse-laser near Talkeetna. Wyvern Surface-to-Air Missiles together with radar-guided antiaircraft guns helped create safe pockets and air corridors lethal to any Chinese fighters and bombers. The combination gave American fighter pilots a sanctuary, a base from which to launch sudden raids on the enemy. Afterward, they darted back into safety.
This morning, C-in-C Sims of the Alaskan fronts practiced a bolder plan. The Army needed numbers and they needed more professionals at the Kenai Front now. Therefore, Sims was racing an advance company of a quick-deployment battalion of U.S. Army Rangers into Anchorage. It was a risk, as the company and some supplies rode on three Boeing 747s. They had left Oregon and gone deeply inland over the Yukon, and presently flew for the metropolitan airport. Sims wondered what the Chinese were going to do about it. He was hoping nothing, but he doubted it.
The 747s neared the end of their journey: Anchorage airport. They flew alone and the sky was clear. High above Anchorage and out of visual sight were F-35s on combat patrol, ready for anything. An AWACS out of Fairbanks now warned Sims and his Air Chief of Chinese fighters approaching the city, although the Chinese were still fifty kilometers away.
“They’ve seen the Boeings,” Sims said.
“The enemy fighters are increasing speed,” the AWACS controller said. “It looks like they’re going to try to loop around the city. I think they want those Boeings, sir.”
Sims watched a screen in his command post bunker as he calculated odds. Should he order the 747s to break off and head for Fairbanks? The Army needed those Rangers at the front. He also needed all the air-transports he could cobble together. He couldn’t afford to lose any.
“Tell the 747s to hit the deck,” Sims said. “Tell them to race in and get near the airport’s lasers as fast as they can.”
The Air Chief relayed the order and sent the F-35s into action. They roared from their great height and out of the sanctuary of Anchorage, darting to intercept the Chinese.
More than two hundred kilometers away from the Chinese fighters, the lumbering transports banked hard.
The F-35 pilots were good, and they had the advantage of height. They traded it for speed. As more F-35s scrambled on the runways, the original fighters reached interception range and hunted for Chinese J-25 Mongooses, air superiority fighters.
Switching on their radars, the American pilots scanned the skies. Unfortunately, the Chinese used advanced jamming equipment. The F-35 radar ranges were cut in half by the jamming. As yet, they were unable to track any targets.
The F-35s kept boring toward the enemy. Finally, their radar began to burn through enemy jamming. Then their threat receivers growled, telling them enemy radar was locked onto their aircraft. Almost immediately, Chinese air-to-air missiles arrived. An F-35 exploded. The others jinked hard: to the side, up, down—a six-inch wide missile roared past a fighter. Other missiles found their targets, hard kills as the destroyed F-35s rained metallic parts.
Three American pilots refused to let it go. They swerved back onto an intercept course. The radar locked onto individual Mongooses. American missiles launched, zooming in the direction of the oncoming Chinese. Then more Chinese air-to-air missiles arrived, and another F-35 exploded.
