directly behind us. The ‘who they’re firing at’ is easy to answer: they’re shooting at the Chinese.”
Twenty minutes later appeared a more exact answer. Horrified screams occurred from the back of the horde. People there began to flee off-road and into the nearby woods.
“What’s going on, mom?” Saul asked.
Martha shook her head and looked back. Thus, she saw Chinese Main Battle Tanks clank up the last hill behind them. Machine guns opened up and American civilians fell by the hundreds. Then loud shells screamed overhead, and this time, Martha saw their target: the same Chinese MBTs. None of the artillery appeared to hurt the enemy, as the Chinese tanks shot the shells out of the air.
“Mom, I’m scared,” Saul said.
Martha blinked in horror, and she moaned along with thousands of other American refugees. The Chinese tanks roared down the hill, with their rattling, clanking treads. Some of the horde weren’t fast enough to escape, and the tanks rolled over them, squashing people in an orgy of bloodshed.
Martha began screaming and she dropped her groceries and picked up her son. He was heavy, but she didn’t care. She ran for the woods to escape the metal monsters that simply crushed people like so many ants. The Chinese were here and they were massacring everyone.
Admiral Ling allowed himself a congratulatory smile. He sat in the command center, watching as the naval infantry’s advanced armor crushed a mobile American artillery company along Highway 17.
Already, his carriers sped away from the American coast, no longer staying within forty kilometers of shore. It was time to get into the real ocean as naval doctrine directed. Many of
The remaining troopships waited off Santa Cruz to unload tanks, artillery, mountains of supplies and yet more naval infantry. Soon, one hundred and fifty thousand troops would be ashore, conquering faster and farther than he had accomplished in South Central Alaska seven years ago. This was a great and glorious day. He was glad that he had accepted the assignment.
It was thirteen days already since the beginning of the grand assault into California and two days since the first Chinese naval infantry officer had set foot on American soil.
Ling reached into his uniform and extracted a thin flask from an inner pocket. He deftly unscrewed the cap with his fingers as he held onto the container. Then he sipped the contents, a trickle of
“To the Chinese Navy,” Admiral Ling declared.
Officers glanced at him, and for once, they grinned with delight in his presence.
“This has been a glorious day,” Ling said.
Officers nodded. A few even nudged each other.
The Admiral took another sip and offered the flask to Commodore Wu. The short man accepted and sipped lightly, vainly trying not to screw up his face in distaste.
“We sank two Virginia-class submarines trying to penetrate our defenses,” Ling said. “The Americans cannot spare many of those.”
“No, Admiral.”
“I, on the other hand, have not lost a troopship.”
Commodore Wu nodded.
“Guarding those troopships cost us four destroyers and a cruiser,” Ling said. “Our Blue Water Nay has taken a cut but it is more than ready for its next assignment.”
Once more, Wu nodded.
“Perhaps I have allowed the Navy to lose too many mine-sweepers, but that came at the order of the Leader himself.”
“Speed will neutralize the Americans,” the Commodore quoted.
“For a land-fighting man, Marshal Nung is perhaps the greatest Chinese commander we have,” Ling said.
Commodore Wu appeared surprised at this praise for a competing service.
“I salute him,” Ling said. “Marshal Nung predicted that what is occurring would happen. At first, upon hearing his bold plan, I had my doubts. Now, I do not doubt. Our carriers are safe, the troopships have already begun deploying their masses and the advance armor bores into the American positions, meaning that soon the entire delta region will belong to us. Then California falls and the glory will accrue to the Navy where it has always belonged.”
“Victory tastes sweet, sir.”
Admiral Ling nodded, turning his head, taking in the officers and the command center screens. He would keep today’s eye-recorded video for the rest of his life. The carriers were safe and the troopships were landing well ahead of schedule. The Americans had missed their chance of stopping the greatest Chinese amphibious assault in history. Now it was too late.
It was a grave meeting in Underground Bunker Number Five. Anna listened as the major explained the disaster in minute detail. The critical element had been speed, gained by the Chinese by accepting tremendous losses in minesweepers. Most of the best formations of the Northern California Command were already deployed in SoCal. That meant there had been little to stop the Chinese once they reached the Monterey Bay shore. Small U.S. formations still plugged the gap between Santa Cruz and the Bay Area, but they wouldn’t last long. Chinese reinforcements already poured in and they would reach the battlefield sooner than entrained forces from Texas would pass through the Rocky Mountains.
“Mr. President,” Director Levin said, interrupting the major. “I would like to speak, sir.”
Sims had been staring into space as the major spoke. He now blinked several times and swiveled his head. As he did, the President seemed to return to them instead of being lost in whatever haze he had escaped into these past few minutes.
“You said something?” Sims asked.
“Mr. President,” Levin said, “I believe we have reached a critical impasse. The Chinese have gained Santa Cruz port, an unforeseen windfall for them. They have exploited it brilliantly and now threaten the entire state.”
Levin turned to Anna.
She didn’t want to support him in this, but he wasn’t asking for her opinion, just what she had uncovered. “We believe Admiral Ling commands the invasion fleet,” she said.
“Admiral Ling fought against me in Alaska,” Sims said.
“Yes, sir,” Anna answered.
The President scowled, causing deep lines to appear in his forehead. “I beat him in the end. Does he think this is a rematch?”
“Likely,” Levin said. “It is my opinion that he begged for this chance to square off against you, sir.”
Anna glanced at the CIA Director. She’d never told Levin that or even hinted at such a thing. In fact, it was probably the opposite. In her opinion, the Admiral was a reluctant warrior. Dare she speak up and say so, undercutting her boss? It would likely lose her this cherished post. Yet if she remained quiet, an even greater disaster might loom over them.
“Admiral Ling wanted to face me, did he?” Sims said.
“He wished for a rematch,” Levin said. “He knows you’re the President and now he wishes to get revenge.”
Sims looked away. Soon he turned to Anna and asked, “Is that true: Ling wants a rematch?”
“I’m sure he knows who our Commander-in-Chief is,” Anna said.
Before she could say more, Levin slapped the table. “There you have it, Mr. President. If that wasn’t bad enough, old Admiral Ling has committed atrocities just as he did in Alaska. Victory at any costs has always been his
