“It’s hard to say, sir,” General Alan replied.
“No it isn’t,” Anna said. “Reconnaissance has shown us more Chinese troops and more munitions in the Kenai Peninsula. Our defense barely held. I think it’s clear the Chinese would have taken all of Anchorage and possibly raced to the passes to halt the Fourth Army there. Because they ran out of fuel, the Chinese bogged down at precisely the wrong time for them.”
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.”
“But sir—”
“That’s an order,” the President said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we’re going to think this through. We’ve stopped the Chinese in the south, and he’s holed in at Dead Horse in the north.” The President examined his people. “The priority is South Central Alaska. I want the Chinese driven into the sea.”
“That will likely take a bloody battle, sir,” General Alan said.
“Bloody or not,” Clark said, “I want this invasion army destroyed, and it looks like we’re soon going to get our chance.”
Jian Hong, Minister without Portfolio, glanced at the other Ruling Committee members waiting on the Chairman. Admiral Qiang of the Navy looked weary, while Police Minister Xiao seemed positively frightened. Xiao 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.
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 Qiang took a deep breath. “May I speak, sir?” Qiang asked.
“By all means,” the Chairman said.
“The naval infantry has set up heavy defensive stations in Anchorage. We hold the Kenai Peninsula. At present, we will soon face the American Fourth Army. I have no qualms about holding what we have. However, there is another army moving through the Yukon. To face the combined mass we will need more fuel, munitions and another three fresh brigades.”
“How will you ship this new transfusion to your trapped naval infantry?” the Chairman asked.
“By using Navy transports, sir,” said Qiang.
“These transports are needed for grain,” the Chairman said. “Isn’t that right, Xiao?”
“The people’s anger is growing worse,” the Police Minister said in a soft voice. “The people of the inner provinces are very hungry.”
“But the war, sir—” said Qiang.
“Has ground to a halt,” the Chairman said. “I have seen the evidence, and it shows me a lack of planning and preparation. Our troops lack munitions and fuel. It is an intolerable situation.”
“I asked for re-supplies,” Qiang said.
“Silence!” the Chairman hissed. “You assured me your naval brigades could snatch Alaska for me. They failed to move with speed. Bah. I made a mistake trying to wage a ground war with naval troops. I should have never listened to you and your insidious lies.”
“Sir—” said Qiang.
“Silence!” the Chairman said, as he slapped the armrest of his wheelchair. There was fire in his eyes. “A ground war or an ice war—the Army succeeded in their appointed task. I should have trusted them to wage the battle in South Central Alaska. Even though General Nung fought in a bitterly alien environment and with an amazingly stretched supply line, he reached Dead Horse. The Army is to be congratulated for that.” The old man glanced at the marshal.
Kao smiled, although it seemed pained.
Jian recognized it.
“General Nung has reached Dead Horse,” the Chairman said. “Despite the distance, Army reinforcements reached him, strengthening the general’s position. Meanwhile, in South Central Alaska, the entire front has stalled. They are out of fuel and have dwindling stocks of munitions.”
“With more fuel—” Qiang began.
“No!” the Chairman said. “I will not send more ships into the northern waters as winter approaches. If you had taken the city and opened the port, moving on to the passes, 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 Qiang stiffened. “They are not bad troops, sir.”
The Chairman snorted.
“The war—” Jian said.
“Quiet!” the Chairman said. “I know you are politically allied with Qiang, but you will not use your boasts here today to help our failed admiral.” The old man glowered at Jian. “I did not believe you had it in you to revive military men. Yet you lit a fire under Nung after he sat waiting for the heavens to fall, it appears. Because he waited so long, it will be difficult to hold onto the North Slope. I suppose we can destroy 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 now, 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 worldwide. We might be able to use that to break the Grain Union. We have hurt America and shown the world how weak they are. To conquer American territory, however, we needed 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 Qiang asked.
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. Already, his standing in the Ruling Committee and the nation had risen because
“Sir,” Jian said, “Chinese honor demands—”
“You will make demands of me, Jian Hong?” the Chairman asked.
“No, sir, never that,” Jian said, as he wilted under the old man’s gaze and fell silent.
“Sir,” said a shaken Qiang, “in the interests of my troops, I must point out that the Americans are bringing heavy reinforcements. We must match them or risk losing the battle.”
“The battle is already lost,” Deng said.
“The Americans never defeated us,” Jian pointed out.
