personnel eagerly waiting for Nung to unfold his new insight.
“As you wish, Marshal,” Gang said. He retired to his corner, sitting, watching and waiting.
“What are your orders, sir?” Pi asked.
Nung continued to study the operational map. He must outmaneuver the Americans, but he must not make hasty decisions. This was a moment for careful reflection. He waved General Pi to silence. Then Nung put his fingertip on the computer table as he concentrated. The Americans had lunged into Escondido, using the giant tanks to bolster the assault. It indicated they used their best—their most offensive—formations to make the assault. That meant they had thinned out these formations from elsewhere. The problem was some of the other trapped American formations farther south of Escondido. According to reports, some of the pockets were on the verge of collapse. The others would last several more days, maybe even a week. Those pockets tied down Chinese formations needed for the assault on Los Angeles. Perhaps it was time to screen some of the pockets and gather greater hitting power to continue the lunge for the sprawling American city and the Grapevine Pass behind it. If he could trap all of Los Angeles in a gigantic pocket…
Nung leaned over the table, tracing the coastal route along Highway 5 from Mexico to Los Angeles. He nodded and stepped around the table. He tapped Palm Springs, and he eyed Temecula and then followed the route to Corona. Yes, it was becoming clear what he needed to do. The trick would be to slow the escape of these soldiers from the Escondido Pocket in order to give him time for the Tank Army waiting south beyond Palm Springs.
Nung straightened and regarded General Pi. “You must put me through to the Tank Army General. It is time to light a fire under him and reignite the original assault against Palm Springs.”
“Yes, sir,” Pi said.
Once more, Nung studied the computer table. He moved around it again and stabbed a finger along I-15. “Here,” he said. “This is where we are going to send the helicopter-borne troops.”
“There, sir?” Pi asked, sounding surprised.
“They will not survive their attack, I realize this. And we must work out a tactical plan to put them down there so they last as long as possible. They must buy us time while the Tank Army takes Palm Springs and then smashes through the pass to San Bernardino and beyond.”
“Sir?” Pi asked.
“It will become a race. If we win, once more we will cut off these freed soldiers and we will capture the attacking American forces and the giant tanks along with them. Yes, if we win this race, we will win the battle in Southern California and ready ourselves for capturing everything.”
-11-
Drive on Los Angeles
In an emergency session of the War Council, Anna sat down beside Dr. Levin. The CIA Director glanced at her and then ignored her presence.
Since the nuclear attack in Santa Cruz, the atmosphere in Underground Bunker Number Five had turned more unrelentingly grim. The success of the assault should have lightened their hearts, but it hadn’t.
The President entered the chamber looking more worn than ever. The past few days had aged him. The good news warred against the bad, and everything hung on a knife’s edge as the Chinese battled through the San Gorgonio Pass between the San Bernardino Mountains on the north and the San Jacinto Mountains on the south. If they broke through, they would be in Greater San Bernardino. Given their past actions, the Chinese might be tempted to race to Corona and block the soldiers escaping out of the Escondido Pocket through Temecula.
That was the chief worry and the reason for the meeting. Yet in the northern half of California, the Chinese assault continued despite staggering losses to the nuclear-tipped cruise missiles. The enemy was on the verge of breaking through into the Bay Area.
They had spoken about the Bay Area last meeting. The consensus in the White House bunker was that after the Tomahawk attack, the Chinese had too few naval infantry left to carry the day in San Francisco and San Jose. What the enemy did have was air superiority and the ability to shift his few troops like a chess master.
On the American side, reinforcements kept trickling in, enough so a form of stalemate had occurred. The trouble was that those soldiers were a drain. SoCal Command desperately needed every grunt it could get to hold the coming battle for LA.
“General Alan,” the President said. “It’s time for a new assessment of the situation in Greater Los Angeles.”
The General of the Joint Chiefs stood up. The strain showed in his cheeks, how lean they had become. He looked as if he’d been fasting for a week, his motions now lethargic and his face lacking its natural animation.
“Mr. President, the situation has become fluid and threatens to become even worse. The first soldiers from the Escondido Pocket have reached Temecula. According to estimates, there are nearly one hundred and eighty-four thousand Americans in or around Escondido and Poway.”
“So few?” Sims asked. “I had hoped for more.”
“Well, sir—”
“Army Group SoCal originally contained six hundred thousand soldiers.”
“Yes sir, but if you’ll consider—”
“Are you telling me that we’re attempting to free one hundred and eighty thousand Americans out of an original six hundred thousand?”
“The Chinese have sustained heavy losses as well, sir,” General Alan said. “We believe they may have nearly one million casualties. That’s dead and wounded, sir.”
President Sims snorted. “Those estimates sound much too high to me. If you say one million, I doubt it’s even five hundred thousand.” He scowled. “It’s impossible
“I assure you our estimates on the enemy are accurate, sir.”
“I’m not worried about the enemy, but about us! How can we have lost so many soldiers?”
“Ah…there are several ways to look at this, sir. In World War I, in 1916, the British once took 60,000 casualties in one day of the Battle of Somme, 20,000 of whom were killed. I remember reading that sixty percent of the officers involved died on the first day. We haven’t lost that many soldiers in a single day’s fighting, Mr. President. But—”
“I’m not interested in World War I,” Sims said, as he waved his hand as if to erase the words. “How is it possible we have so few troops left?”
“They’re trapped, sir. As you know, the Chinese have surrounded masses of our troops all over southern California. And we have taken appalling losses. Modern war is brutal.”
“Yes, but one hundred and eighty thousand soldiers out of the original six hundred thousand—I thought we were going to rescue more of our men.”
“By my estimates, sir, there are another two hundred thousand Americans in five different pockets.”
“Can we reach them from Escondido?” Sims asked.
Anna blinked in surprise. What was she hearing from the President? He used to be a commanding general. He should know these things. He should be giving orders, not asking questions of General Alan. How much sleep had the President been getting? He looked exhausted. She wondered about his mental health.
“Sir,” Alan said, “I’m afraid we might not get the one hundred and eighty thousand into LA. That’s why we’ve called the meeting.”
