Invasion: Alaska

possibly hitting the train line from Fairbanks or even attempting to interdict the transport flights landing in that city.

Sims had rearranged SAM sites, moved tactical laser batteries and lofted more air, particularly early warning radar planes and fighters. His pilots were overworked, but they were tough and knew the stakes.

So far, Sims had kept the Chinese ground forces away from Anchorage. It had cost too many American lives doing it, however. As fast as the reinforcements arrived, he sent them against the Chinese in the Kenai Peninsula. If the Chinese could interrupt his small but steady trickle of reinforcements—

“Where are they going to hit next?” Sims asked his Air Chief.

“If I were them,” the Air Chief replied, “I’d put the rail-line out of commission.”

Sims studied the situation on an operational map as he sat in headquarters in Anchorage. The strike against the Talkeetna ABM station hurt. It gave the Chinese greater freedom. How would they use that?

“We need more laser batteries,” Sims told the Air Chief.

“We need more of everything,” the man replied.

PRCN SUNG

It was over thirty-seven hours since the destruction of the strategic ABM laser site in Talkeetna. Now Admiral Ling’s second risky attack was about to commence. The first had worked beautifully, even if he’d lost more Ghosts than he would have liked. Victory in Alaska would absolve him of any problems concerning that.

Admiral Ling stood on the bridge of the supercarrier Sung. He watched as the steam catapults launched bombers into the gray sky. Once aloft, the heavy planes climbed toward waiting fighters and EW craft.

Ling had worked himself to exhaustion these past days. He attempted to ensure coordination between the various arms and fronts. He had ensured coordination on the carriers for this new air- team venture. If his plan worked, he would shatter the Americans.

“That’s the last of the bombers,” Commodore Yen said beside him.

Admiral Ling gave him a rare smile. “Order the helicopters into the air. It is time.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Yen said.

* * *

Fifty big Heron bombers climbed to launching height. The supercarriers were already one hundred and fifty kilometers to the east behind them. Ahead of them waited Anchor EW craft and J-25 Mongoose fighters.

Captain Cho piloted the lead Heron. He had run many bombing missions already, but this one was special. Anchorage airport was the target. If everything went well, it would be the beginning of the end for the Americans.

“Launch,” came the order from a controller aboard the Sung.

Captain Cho’s palms were moist. He glanced at his navigator, gave him a grin and then yanked a lever.

At the bottom of the large bomber, a big Goshawk drone dropped from the pylons. It fell fifty meters before the turbojets kicked on. From other Herons dropped more Goshawks.

Slowly, the bombers dropped behind as the Goshawks climbed higher. Each was remote-controlled from Mukden or from one of the supercarriers. In a deadly flock, the Goshawks increased speed as they headed for Anchorage airport.

In time, the Goshawk drones passed the EW Anchors.

The Anchor pilots were nervous. They had practiced this four times during the naval “exercise.” It should work now against the Americans. They climbed to the same height as the Goshawks, but kept eighty kilometers behind.

Now they turned on powerful jamming equipment. It would take time and electronic effort for the Americans to pierce that. And once they did—

The Anchor crews were busy, but not as much as the flight controllers aboard the Sung were. There were other, smaller bombers following and the many fighters to protect the last wave— the infantry-carrying helicopters.

If anything went wrong, this could prove the costliest error in the war so far.

ANCHORAGE, ALASKA

Even though it was overcast above Anchorage, the international airport was busy as always. There were two laser batteries stationed nearby, along with AA guns and Wyvern SAMs. A garrison platoon manned machine guns and Army MPs drove around in jeeps and patrolled the perimeters on the unlikely chance of saboteurs.

Between the airport and Anchorage was C-in-C Sims’s command post. It was underground and linked to the airport’s radar net.

“Sir,” the Air Chief said. “You should look at this.”

“What now?” Sims asked.

The Air Chief pointed at a large screen. There were an easy thirty enemy blips on it, moving toward Anchorage.

“What—?” even as Sims began to ask his question, the computer screen went white.

“Someone is jamming us, sir,” a nearby operator said.

“I’m getting nine fixes, sir. Nine jamming aircraft.”

“Are the Chinese attacking us directly?” Sims asked.

The Air Chief nodded.

“Put everything in the air,” Sims said.

“I’m already on it.”

“And break that jamming!” Sims shouted.

“That will take some time, sir,” an operator said.

“We may not have time,” Sims said.

* * *

The Goshawks flew toward the airport as their transponders gave off precise signals, making them appear as regular Chinese bombers. Their jamming equipment would help confuse American radar.

Behind the Goshawks by forty kilometers followed the Herons, with precision air-to-ground missiles primed.

A wave of F-22s moved to intercept the enemy. They launched air-to-air missiles, and in less than twenty seconds, sixty of the missiles raced toward the Goshawks. Raptor radar burned through enemy jamming, guiding their missiles to target. Soon, the missiles slammed into, exploded and killed thirty-seven Goshawks.

The remaining Goshawks bored toward the airport and into range of the tactical lasers. They beamed, and Goshawks began to fall apart.

Now the Heron bombers moved into position. Captain Cho nodded, and the bombardier released precision- guided air-to-ground missiles. All around them, the other bombers did likewise.

Now one hundred Chinese missiles burned for their targets: airport radar stations, laser sites and SAM installations.

“Glory to China,” Captain Cho said, as he increased speed. He would follow the missiles, and make a single bombing run.

* * *

Sims stared at a video-feed of a laser destroying a Goshawk. “What is that?”

“A drone,” the Air Chief said.

Sims squinted at the screen. Then he turned to the Air Chief. “They’re trying to saturate us.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Let them rip themselves apart on our sword,” the Air Chief said. “Put everything aloft.”

“Yes, sir,” said an operator.

“They’re trying to do to us what they did at Talkeetna,” Sims said.

* * *

The F-22s had launched almost all of their air-to-air missiles. They still had their cannons, however. They used afterburners to close the gap with the enemy. Behind the Raptors followed several squadrons of F-35s.

Now the more numerous Chinese Mongooses showed up, and air-to-air missiles streaked through the sky at the American planes.