“It’s the end of the world as you know it…”
There was nothing like a little widescreen mayhem and total destruction to make the home audience forget their troubles. The ex- summer blockbuster was to be followed by something even more spectacular: 2012, the mother of all disaster movies by this same director. Soon the massive alien ships of Independence Day entered the atmosphere and made their way to designated rendezvous points over major world cities. Jeff Goldblum was fussing over misplaced aluminum cans in his role as the genius cable repair guy. He would soon figure the whole thing out, and then rush off to the White House with his Apple PowerBook to warn the president of the impending attack.
The first half was a fabulous mix of awesome special effects as the alien ships appeared and then fired their death rays to begin the extermination of the human race. Scenes of chaos and destruction would abound, then the Air Force would launch a feeble counterattack. The alien force fields were impervious to all our weapons, even nuclear bombs. But the creatures in the ships had not reckoned on Jeff Goldblum and his Macintosh. The hero would write a computer virus and use a Roswell UFO to deliver it to the alien mother ship.
Meanwhile, the President himself would lead the next attack, aided by a drunken ex-crop duster as his wingman. The computer virus would foil the alien force fields, allowing the crop duster to get through to deliver the attack on one of the alien ships-payback for all the molestation he endured as an abductee earlier in life. The clear message: Americans never lose, not even when they’re up against aliens in UFOs. Americans have guys like Jeff Goldblum and drunk crop dusters always lurking in the background and ready to save the world at a moment’s notice.
So while the ships and subs of seven nations slipped quietly from their berths in the Pacific, Americans turned their attention to the 50-inch plasma on the walls above their fireplaces, oblivious. The first segment was over and they were sitting through another commercial break learning more than they ever wanted to know about fashion crazes, facial cream, Cialis, and the impending baseball playoffs.
In spite of the crisis, it was amazing how little real information ever came over the mass media. Besides, the aliens were blowing New York and Washington DC all to hell just after the commercial break, so the thought of $6 or $7 for gas and a little more on the heating bill this winter wouldn’t really matter as they watched the President of the United States ask the alien in the Roswell facility what they wanted us to do. When the movie resumed the captured alien mouthed the reply, spoken through the hapless character actor Brent Spiner, aka “Data” from the popular Star Trek series. It was one simple word, spoken in a long, rasping reprisal: “Die…” and a hell of a way to open negotiations. It was fortunate the nation had Jeff Goldblum on the job this time.
Then the movie feed itself was interrupted, with a rarely seen message frozen on the screen.
“We are experiencing technical difficulties-Please Stand By”
That same morning the thin cord of sanity that stretched between Seoul and Pyongyang for long decades of uneasy peace was suddenly terminated when the daily test of the ‘Red Cross Hotline’ failed. Colonel Sun Yun Kim stood holding the receiver to his ear listening to the line ring and ring, with no answer, until it eventually dissolved into the long heartless buzz of an empty dial tone. He reset the receiver and keyed the system to try again, only this time the line was completely dead.
The last time this had happened had been the early morning hours of March 11, 2012 when North Korea used the incident to protest military maneuver in the south and UN sanctions aimed at inhibiting its nuclear program. The two countries had no formal diplomatic relations since the tentative truce was signed in the 1950s and technically existed in a suspended state of war. It was no wonder, given the situation in the Pacific, that the border “truce village” of Panmunjom was more than edgy that morning.
Pyongyang had responded to the rising tension in typical fashion by setting its military on high alert. The tiny starving enclave of repressive hegemony in the north fielded the world’s fourth largest standing army, with over a million men under arms on active duty at any given time and another eight million in reserve. With 1000 ballistic missiles, including a handful that could reach the west coast of the US, 5400, tanks, 2600 AFVs, 1600 SPGs and MLRS systems, its ground forces were a snarling dog on a thin leash that stretched all the way back to Beijing.
The “incident” was another grim reminder to the US that if it wished to rush to honor two existing mutual defense treaties with Japan and Taiwan, it would soon find the ante upped and have South Korea to worry about as well. The ravenous North was only too happy to oblige, with its massive armed forces all dressed up and with only one place to go. It was going to be a very long day in the situation room of the White House deep underground bunker.
The long line of warships sailed east, past the submarine base where SSN Kazan had slipped away hours earlier, then northeast into the Sea of Okhotsk. Karpov was taking the fleet north of Hokkaido Island, to the one Russian controlled channel there south of Aniva Bay, Sakhalin Island. It would be a long day’s sailing at 25 knots, and they timed the transit to occur at midnight the following day. There the Japanese watch post at Wakkanai at the northern tip of Hokkaido would surely spot the ships, and relay the count to JDF Headquarters in Tokyo.
A Kawasaki P-1 Maritime Patrol aircraft was already up from Misawa airfield, Japan’s new replacement for the aging US P-3s. It was a sophisticated new surveillance plane, with advanced signals processing capability and new Artificial Intelligence to advise the Tactical Coordinator (TACCO) on best intercept course plots for its alternate role as an ASW strike aircraft. Ten such planes had been procured, giving the Japanese good coverage along the long archipelago of islands that they now controlled. With range just shy of 5000 miles the planes had excellent endurance for the surveillance role it was tasked with that night. It could sit over Hokkaido Island safe in Japanese airspace and use its excellent AESA radar to watch the ominous procession of warships to the north.
The fleet continued due east in the Sea Of Okhotsk for yet another day, making for the wide channel south of Urup Island in the Kurile chain. By day the skies above the flotilla were patrolled by pairs of MIG-29s off airfields in the Kuriles. By night the ships would deploy their own helicopters in wide arcs around the main formation to keep a wary eye out for submarines. Nothing was seen or heard, and no challenge was mounted from Japanese naval or air forces. They had enough on their hands with the angry dragon they had roused from its long slumber, and were content to watch from a respectful distance as Karpov led the fleet out towards the deep blue of the Pacific. It was soon clear to them that this flotilla of formidable warships was hastening to join the Russian Admiral Kuznetsov carrier group already operating in the waters off the southern tip of Kamchatka. That force was now heading southwest towards the Kuriles to effect a rendezvous.
South of the Japanese mainland, the wayward brother ship of Kuznetsov, sold off and adopted by the Chinese years ago, had already deployed from Dalian naval base and was poised to enter the Yellow Sea. The tickling alarm clock had run the course of the forty-eight hour ultimatum set by the People’s Republic of China, and there had not been such a breathless, agonizing wait since the countdown to the launching of the first Gulf war over 30 years ago in August of 1990.
In that war and the Second Gulf War against Saddam that followed it ten years later after 9/11, the absolute superiority of Western air and ground forces had been brutally established. Only the long asymmetric guerilla war fought by the radicalized Islamics had proved again that the modern world was not an age of conquest and occupation. American forces left Iraq and Afghanistan with little to show for the billions in dollars and the thousands of dead and wounded soldiers who fought there. It was not like WWII, where the United States had decisively joined the Allies to defeat two major world powers and liberate over ten nations that had been overrun by the enemy, and did so in only four years. No, in the early 21st century America fought for nearly 15 years in Afghanistan, and then left it much as they had found it. Two years after the last troops pulled out the Taliban were back to business as usual.
This time it was not American troops deploying from their homeland to a far distant and hostile shore. This time it was forces of a coalition that now spanned half the land mass of the world, the SinoPac alliance between China and Russia that had been signed in the year 2020. The Dragon and the Bear had settled their differences, agreed on mutual economic development of the vast untapped resources of Siberia, where China’s hungry manufacturing economy was to be fed by the oil, timber, and metals there, and Russia would be flooded with the finances it so desperately needed to get back to the glory days when it had been a dominant player on the world stage.
The fear of imminent war was circling the globe, and when Taiwan issued a joint resolution by both the
