Invasion: Alaska

American savagery.”

“That’s my point, sir,” Deng said. “Much of the world views us as aggressors.”

“We are the aggressors,” the Chairman said. “Despite our propaganda campaign, it is never wise to lie to oneself.”

“I agree,” Deng said. “Many view us as aggressors. Now the Americans have used nuclear weapons. That will lose them support. Every torpedo they fire will create a worldwide groundswell against them. It will create an outcry against nuclear weapons. We will be able to use that later.”

“People respect strength,” the Chairman said. “If the Americans destroy the polar forces, others will fear them more. How could that possibly help us?”

“From what I’ve heard here,” Deng said, “the Americans might destroy a few more supply depots, but they will be unable to reach our military forces. We wait outside the four-hundred kilometer danger-zone. Once we’re ready, we will invade and capture the North Slope.”

“What if these attacks embolden the Americans to use nuclear weapons against our fleet in the Gulf of Alaska?” the Chairman asked.

“I think there is a message in their use of a torpedo under the ice,” Deng said.

“If they use such weapons against our fleet,” Jian said, “we should use nuclear weapons in the Kenai Peninsula.”

Every member of the Ruling Committee finally glanced at him.

“I don’t agree,” Admiral Qiang said. “We need the Kenai Peninsula intact. We would have to use nuclear weapons elsewhere.”

“I have made a resolution in my heart,” the Chairman said. “If they destroy our cross-polar formations with nuclear weapons, we shall destroy their oilfields in retaliation, crippling their economy. And I have another, more devastating way to use our nuclear weapons, one that none of their strategic lasers can stop.”

“What is that, sir?” Jian asked.

The Chairman stared at him. “It is an idea I will hold in reserve at the moment. You, however, will carry on with your assigned task.” The Chairman gave him a meaningful nod.

“Yes, sir,” Jian said.

The Chairman pressed a button on his wheelchair, and Jian’s screen went blank. If left Jian staring at his cooling tea, wondering if he should signal Bai’s plane, telling the lieutenant-general to return to Ambarchik. Should he find General Nung himself? The Chairman had given him the nod.

Jian was still wondering twenty minutes later.

-14- Drive on Anchorage

PRCN SUNG

The Chinese supercarrier and its escorts were well out to sea. It was overcast and gray rolling waves spread in all directions.

Deep inside the mighty vessel, Admiral Ling stood before the OBS, the operational battle screen, studying the situation on the Kenai Peninsula. With his single hand, he keyed up information as the need occurred to him. As Ling ingested the data, several certainties began to become clear.

The hatch opened and Commodore Yen entered the chamber. Before approaching the admiral, Yen murmured a greeting to a keen-eyed operator.

Ling nodded as the Commodore sidled near. Then the admiral cast a suspicious glance at the operator Yen had singled out. Why would the notoriously snobbish Commodore even notice a battle-intelligence operator? Oh. Then it became clear.

“The man is an East Lightning spy?” Ling asked in a whisper.

Commodore Yen turned away from the operator, one among several in the OBS room. He moved so now his mouth was hidden from the man’s view. The tall flag officer adjusted his VR monocle as he regarded the admiral. “I thought you knew, sir,” Yen said quietly.

“No. I had no idea.”

Yen shrugged dismissively. “They are everywhere. The chief political officer aboard ship spends much of his time recruiting naval personnel to spy on their superiors.”

“I thought the men in here were all vetted.”

Yen said nothing.

Scowling, Admiral Ling returned his attention to the OBS. “We have a limited time to crack the glass vase that is Anchorage. So far, the Americans have held fast.”

“Sir,” said Yen, surprised, “even now our naval brigades are driving the Americans back. Every time the enemy dares to make a stand, our forces smash through. If I may be so bold, sir, how can you say the Americans are holding?”

“You must see through the first level of a situation before you make such pronouncements,” chided Ling.

The Commodore seemed startled. After a moment’s thought, however, the serene look returned. “You conquered Taiwan, so I would not presume to teach you the art of war, sir.”

“No, no,” said Ling. “Do not be so shy. I am old. I am maimed. What could I possibly know?”

“I would not presume to say, sir. I suspect, however, that you have a new plan to implement.”

Admiral Ling nodded as his good eye, the dark one, became like a pool of swirling ink. There were deep eddies in that eye, a depth of character and subtlety.

“We have nine naval brigades,” Ling said, “each twice the size of any American brigade. What is more, we possess superior training, morale and soldiers. We have stormed onto the peninsula and now drive through it along two routes, Highways One and Nine. Highway One began at Homer. Route Nine started at Seward.”

“Seward,” said Yen, “the Vice-Admiral’s base.”

“For now, personalities don’t matter. The critical factor is our weight of numbers: nine full brigades against several American brigades. These Militiamen bolster them, but they shouldn’t make the difference.” Ling cleared his throat. “You were mistaken a moment ago when you said we ‘smash through’ those Americans daring to make a stand. To smash through implies that we have swept away the defenders so they are now chaff.” Ling shook his head. “That is far from the case. We drive against them as they defend the twin routes. Each kilometer we force them back, is a kilometer closer for them to their base of supplies. That means the closer they approach Anchorage, the easier it will be for the Americans to reinforce their sectors. What makes it worse for us is that each highway resembles a thin artery. Along the artery must pump food, fuel and ammo to our soldiers. Each of these routes snake through a terrible wildness of ever bigger and steeper mountains and denser forests.”

“You speak the truth, sir. And yet, by driving them back we are surely winning.”

“In a first phase analysis, yes, you would be absolutely correct. To win we must reach Anchorage. Hence, as we near Anchorage, we are winning. Yet until a sector along one of the arteries collapses, we are unable to thrust at Anchorage with speed in order to take it in a single swoop. Because of the two winding routes, we have only been able to hack our way to the city like an explorer hacking a path through a jungle.”

“The Americans have much fewer soldiers than we do, sir. We will win a war of attrition, a war of hacking, as you say.”

“For now that is so, yes,” said Ling. “Yet the factors are changing. The Americans are constantly air-ferrying soldiers from the mainland, from the bottom states to the fronts. Intelligence has also informed me that a large military convoy is boring through the frozen highways of the Yukon.”

“We’ve interrupted most direct air-ferrying into Anchorage,” said Yen. “We’ve slowed them.”

“As you’ve just said, we’ve slowed them. Yet the Americans still dare at times to rush transports into Anchorage airport. Mostly, they fly to outer bases and put the reinforcements onto trains to Anchorage and thereby to the Kenai Peninsula. I would like to throttle all air transport into the city and force the Americans to land their reinforcements and supplies all the way up at Fairbanks.”

“That would help immensely.”

Ling nodded. “It would change the mathematical equation in our favor, I agree.”