leopard on the patch and said 125th. That’s what troubled him: a new group of Chinese had moved up. That was always a signal for another hard push.
From the woods, a muffled shot rang out. Several shots followed. One of the Chinese shoveling snow pitched over. The others ran back into the sheltering snowfall. The moment of idyllic grace was over. American sharpshooters crawled in the woods, sniping Chinese whenever they got the chance. The Chinese reacted to sniper fire with predictable heavy-handedness.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Stan, as he slid down their side of the hill. “The Chinese artillery will probably open up any second now. Go!”
Jose and Stan floundered through the snow as they ran downhill. They raced out of the no-man’s-land between the two lines and back for their side. Sure enough, about halfway there, Chinese mortar-fire began peppering the woods. Stan ran harder and his heart pounded—from this point on their lines were upslope on higher ground. Behind him, he heard crackling branches and loud thumps.
“Well?” shouted a panting Jose. “Was crawling to the Chinese to gain a forward look worth it?”
“Ask me… in a few,” panted Stan. Steam poured from his mouth.
Soon, they reached their line and jumped into a trench. U.S. Army soldiers looked up. One sergeant cursed, as Stan had kicked over his coffee pot.
“Sorry,” said Stan.
“Thanks, sir,” the sergeant said, picking up the pot and setting it back on his tiny stove.
Stan looked over his shoulder, listening for anything unusual. Now that he’d made it back to their line, the enemy mortar-fire had quit. Murphy’s Laws made themselves felt all the time at the front. Stan took several minutes to catch his breath. Then he headed down the trench for the commander’s hut.
“What are you going to report?” asked Jose, who followed him.
“That I’ve spotted a new battalion or a new brigade. That’s probably why they didn’t attack last night. They must have traded places with the Chinese forces that were attacking us before.”
“And now it’s going to be the big push?”
“They’ve all been big pushes.”
“You know what I mean,” said Jose. “Everyone keeps talking about the big one. It’s in the Chinese interest to obliterate us so they can drive the rest of the way to Anchorage in peace.”
“Well,” said Stan, “you can read a map as good as I can. We’re guarding the Junction, right?”
Jose nodded.
“If we lose the Junction, it means everyone holding Highway Nine has to retreat. Otherwise, the enemy can move down Highway Nine and crush our forces from behind. From what I hear, what’s left of the 1st Stryker Brigade is getting jumpy. Their commander doesn’t think we can hold.”
“You know him don’t you?”
“Hector Ramos?” asked Stan. “I sure do. He’s among the best we have.” He frowned then and turned to Jose. “If I were the Chinese commander, I’d have unleashed the big push yesterday.”
“Good thing we had this snow then.”
“It slows them down,” admitted Stan. “It also looks like they used the time to reorganize, just like we used it to rest and get another trickle of reinforcements in place.”
“You hear about the new Abrams coming?”
Stan nodded. “It will be good to have other tanks in the sector with us. I’m hoping to talk with their commander and tell him what we’ve learned.”
“Good idea,” said Jose. “Look. There’s the colonel.”
“I’ll be back in a few,” said Stan, hurrying after the CO who had ducked into his command hut.
The snow fell heavier the rest of the morning. Each flake was big and wet, and together they clogged every road and path. Stan along with others heard rumors about a big air attack that had occurred somewhere deep in Alaska, but neither he nor anyone else knew what it had been about.
Around two in the afternoon, as the snow began to lessen, twenty M1A3 Abrams tanks rolled into the rear area of their sector. Soldiers whooped with delight upon seeing them.
“The cavalry has arrived,” a tanned Major Fred Benson told the colonel in Stan’s presence.
The colonel had his data-net team here and spoke to Major Benson, Stan, and the other officers, explaining the situation. Benson spoke up more and more often, offering suggestions. He and his tanks had flown in from California, landing in Fairbanks, then taking the train to Anchorage and motoring the rest of the way down Highway One.
After listening to one too many of Benson’s suggestions, the colonel turned to the Californian major. “I’m not sure you have a full grasp of the situation yet.”
“Of course I do,” said Benson. “The Chinese have been giving you boys a hard time. Well, that’s ‘cause they have tanks and you didn’t.”
“We have Abrams tanks,” the colonel said. “His.” He pointed at Stan.
Benson’s tanned features were skeptical. “Begging your pardon, Colonel, but he’s National Guard.”
“Do you have something against them?”
“Not a thing,” said Benson. “But we’re trained tankers and have the latest modifications. We also have the newest Army ordnance. We’ll blow these big Chinese tanks out of the way for you.”
“They have 175mm guns,” said Stan.
“I’ve read the specs,” Benson said. “They don’t impress me much.”
“A hit from them will take out an Abrams,” said Stan.
“The trick is tactical maneuver,” Benson said. “Those Chinese monsters are slow. My babies are quick and we don’t plan to wait for them to attack us.”
“The T-66s are fast on the road,” Stan told him. “They have retractable wheels.”
Benson waved his hand. “I’m talking about off-road movement. My Abrams will run rings around them, if it comes to that. I have the newest long-range rounds. So—ka-boom,” said Benson. “No more T-66s.”
Stan began shaking his head.
“Do you even
Stan rattled off their statistics, which caused Benson to raise his eyebrows.
“We call him the Professor,” the colonel said. “There’s a reason for that. If you want to know anything military, you ask him.”
Stan reddened at the compliment.
“I’ll stick to the latest tanker tactics,” Benson said.
“This isn’t the Mojave Testing Ground,” the colonel said. “This is Alaska, and the Chinese are good.”
“The Chinese have never been good with armor.” Major Benson grinned confidently. “Gentlemen, I can see the Chinese have you rattled. And I don’t blame you. But that’s going to change now, let me tell you. The cavalry has arrived and we’ll blow those mother-lovers away for you. I only ask one thing.”
“What is that?” the colonel asked dryly.
“A long field of fire and some maneuvering room,” Benson said.
“That’s two things,” the colonel said. “But never mind. Can you help him arrange that, Professor?”
“Yes, sir,” said Stan.
The colonel glanced around at them. He nodded crisply. “I suspect the Chinese are going to open up soon. So let’s get ready to greet them. I dearly hope you know your trade, Major Benson. The fate of Alaska might well depend upon it.”
“Sir?” asked Benson.
“We have to keep the Junction open long enough for the 1st Stryker Brigade and their Militiamen to leapfrog back with us. We can’t afford to lose them. So we hold here until further orders.”
“Hold?” Benson said. “I plan to attack.”
“You’ll do what I order you to do,” the colonel said with heat.
Major Benson nodded, but his smirk said he had his own plans.
C-in-C Sims was worried because the Chinese had taken out the strategic Talkeetna ABM station. The giant pulse-laser had been the backbone of air defense in South Central Alaska. Now the Chinese could hunt inland,
