Invasion: Alaska (30 page)

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Authors: Vaughn Heppner

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BOOK: Invasion: Alaska
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“Do the Chinese even have battleships?” Stan asked. Those were vintage World War Two weapons.

Mack shook his head. “I don’t know about the battleships. The aliens might have built them some. What I’m saying, son, is that this is going to be a Hell of a fight. Save your tanks for the end, or we’ll lose. Do I make myself clear?”

Stan suddenly had a sick feeling that this would be the last time he’d see his dad. He tried to shake the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away. Why did the Chinese have to invade Alaska? It was crazy.

“I…I respect you, sir,” Stan said.

“You’re a good son,” Mack said. “I love you. I always have.”

Stan nodded stiffly. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Remember what I said, boy.”

“Bye, Dad.”

“You make me proud, Stan Higgins. You beat the tar out of these Chinese bastards, promise me.”

“I promise, sir.”

“I’m going to hold you to that. Now go on, get out of here,” Mack said, standing tall, the cloudiness fading from his eyes. Then his shoulders slumped and some of the cloudiness returned.

Stan watched as his dad wandered to the waiting guard. The Chinese were coming and his dad had just given him sound advice. The National Guard needed to save the few tanks America had in Alaska. Before this was through, Stan vowed as he gritted his teeth, he was going to get his dad out of here. Mack Higgins deserved better than spending his last days in jail.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Anna and Colin Green rode an elevator down to White House Bunker Number Five. The National Security Advisor was telling her the history of the heavily armored bunker. It had its own generator, communications system and security grid. It was meant to function even if the capitol received a direct hit from a nuclear weapon.

The elevator stopped, the door opened and they entered a short corridor. Marine guards lined the way. A Marine major nodded at Green and visibly inspected Anna. He glanced at his computer-scroll and then looked at her with recognition.

“The President will join you in a minute,” the major said as he opened the door for them.

Anna followed Green into a large chamber with a big circular table. She was surprised at the number of people gathered and that she recognized all of them from the news. Above the center of the table was a triangular-screened computer-scroll. As Anna sat, she spied two jets on the screen facing her. Something small detached from their underbellies. A moment later on the computer-scroll, violent explosions erupted across the snow-covered land.

The door opened again, and the Marine major stepped in, saying, “The President of the United States.”

President Clark strode in, followed by the Secretary of State in a rumbled suit. The two men took their seats and the meeting began.

General Michael Alan, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, began to outline the military situation. As he did, one of his aides changed the video images on the computer-scrolls above the conference table.

“Reconnaissance is spotty, Mr. President. The Chinese have destroyed our spy satellites and they continue to knock down high-level UAV cams. We believe the ASBM attack destroyed one of their carriers and several ancillary vessels, but we failed to halt the invasion.”

“They’ve landed?” asked the President.

“Not yet, sir,” General Alan said, “at least not in any numbers. Let me explain. The Chinese first struck military instillations in the Aleutian Islands. Afterward, they landed recon teams, but we don’t believe they landed any fighting infantry formations.”

“How do you know this if the satellites are down?” the President asked.

“We still have assets, sir.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” the Secretary of State said.

General Alan adjusted his glasses. He was a thin man and seldom smiled. “There were survivors in the Aleutians who radioed what they knew before White Tiger Commandos hunted them down. The Navy continues to launch UAV cams and we have weather balloons—”

“We’re using weather balloons to gather intelligence?” the Secretary of State asked in disbelief.

“They’re proving invaluable,” General Alan said. “They’re high-level and have a negligible sensor signature. That means the Chinese are having a difficult time smoking them out. Unfortunately, the balloons are at the mercy of the winds.”

“We can hammer out the details later,” the President said. “Right now I want to know the worst.”

“Yes, sir,” said General Alan, who glanced at an aide before continuing his speech. “The Chinese have caught us by surprise and now they’re maximizing their advantage. They’re keeping the carriers bunched tight and swarming our defenses with mass fighter, bomber attacks. If you’ll notice, the majority of their base attacks are with fuel-burst bombs.”

Anna looked up at a computer-scroll. Jets streaked across the scene, dropping bombs. Seconds later, the entire scroll turned orange with explosions.

“Their military intelligence is excellent,” General Alan said. “They’ve attacked almost every installation outside the umbrella of our strategic ABM laser stations. Naturally, the Chinese aircraft come in low, which lessens the line-of-sight of our pulse-lasers. Most of those strategic lasers are inland and they were built to destroy stratospheric ICBMs. That means a crafty use of enemy air assets can negate much of an ABM laser’s use.”

“Wait a minute,” said Clark. “Are you saying…that even with seven supercarriers the Chinese won’t be able to gain complete air superiority over Alaska?”

“Not as long as we keep the pulse-lasers intact, mass our tactical laser batteries with our SAMs and rush fighters to Alaska,” General Alan said. “The problem, however, is that our air-transportation system is already straining at the breaking point. That’s made worse by the presence of the seven carriers. Because of them, we have to fly through the Yukon. There are terrible snowstorms raging, and our air-transport fleet is badly outdated.”

“Use commercial flights for some of the Army’s needs,” the Secretary of Defense said.

“That will cost us money we don’t have,” the Treasury Secretary said.

“We’d better find a way to pay it,” the Secretary of State said.

“You spoke about aging transports,” the President said. “No. That’s not quite right. You said the transport system is nearly broken.”

“Yes, sir,” General Alan said. “Maybe if I outlined the problem in detail.”

President Clark nodded.

Putting his slender hands flat on the table, General Alan said, “We’re all familiar with the ongoing military shrinkage. Year after year, we’ve demobilized Army, Navy or Air Force formations. Often, we left equipment at old bases. We put machines into storage or parked a thousand vehicles in an abandoned lot. Much of that equipment simply rusted away and turned into junk. Sometimes, however, we donated the old equipment to various National Guard formations. The Alaskan National Guard possesses some M2 Bradleys but almost no heavy armor.”

“We know all this,” the Secretary of State said.

General Alan blinked at the larger man. “Let me put it like this then. The Alaskan National Guard has outdated equipment. The Army possesses two skeletal brigades there. Without the Alaskan Militiamen to bolster our numbers, the Chinese would swamp us. We need everything up there at once. We need more Wyvern surface-to-air missiles, more armor, more fighters, more laser batteries, more warm bodies—”

“We understand this is an emergency,” the President said. “You’ve made your point. We lack many things, but hopefully we have enough in place to stall them.”

General Alan frowned. “That depends, sir.”

“On what?”

“Their goal.”

“The Chairman has already told us what he plans to do,” the President said.

Anna perked up. This was news to her.

“When did he tell you this, sir?” General Alan asked.

President Clark sat back as his eyes narrowed. “I spoke to the Chairman after our ASBM assault. I warned him against invading American soil. He said the Chinese invaded in order to right past wrongs. He pointed out the Northeastern Area as a case in point.”

“I’m not familiar with that, sir,” General Alan said.

Clark hesitated. Anna wondered if the President failed to realize what the Chairman had meant by that.

“The Northeastern Area was former Russian land, particularly around Vladivostok,” Anna said. “Several dynasties ago, the territory belonged to China. The Russians took it….” She faltered as everyone in the chamber stared at her, many with incomprehension.

“This is Anna Chen, our China expert,” the President said. “She tried to warn us of the impending attack.”

Green looked up in alarm.

The President chuckled, although there wasn’t any humor in his voice. “Did you think to keep that hidden from me, Colin?”

“Uh, no sir,” Green said.

The President folded his hands on the table. “The Chairman claimed the U.S. stole Alaska from the Siberians. I told him the Russians had discovered Alaska and we bought it from them. That’s when he launched into a historical lesson. He said the Yakuts—the Siberian natives—discovered Alaska when they crossed the Bering Strait during former ice ages. The Chairman told me he was weary of the Anglos having stolen native lands all over the world. The day has come where China will liberate Alaska from the imperialistic Europeans and return it to its native peoples. He promised to protect Alaska, giving the Eskimos—the Inuit natives—Chinese guarantees of native sovereignty.”

“That sounds just like Aztlan propaganda,” the Secretary of State said.

“Bah!” Green said with heat. “There isn’t any land anywhere in the world worth taking that someone hasn’t taken from someone else. It’s a fact of nature that the strong take from the weak. The Native American tribes did it to each other before any Europeans came. Foxes and wolves steal each other’s territory from each other.”

“I’m not sure I like your implication,” the Secretary of State said. “We didn’t steal land from anyone. Alaska is sovereign U.S. Territory.”

“One thing the Chairman made clear,” said Clark, forestalling Green’s rebuttal. “The Chinese intend to capture the entire State. But I’m curious. Ms. Chen. Why did the Chairman say those things to me?”

“I believe his words were primarily for internal Chinese consumption,” Anna said. “The Chairman said those things so he doesn’t appear as the aggressor.”

“Will anyone believe such nonsense?” the President asked.

“There is an old saying:
any port will do in a storm
,” Anna said. “What the Chairman told you is an excuse, and people are often quick to accept excuses they don’t mind hearing.”

“You cut to the point,” Clark said. “It isn’t so important why he said he’s invading, but that he is. General, do you have any ideas concerning their strategy?”

“The key to controlling Alaska is Anchorage,” General Alan said. “At least half the population lives in and around the city. The rail and road net are concentrated there and it contains an international airport. Anchorage also happens to be near one of the few places an amphibious force could land.”

“What about the cross-polar assault?” the President asked.

“Our analysis teams have carefully combed recent intelligence data concerning the buildup in Ambarchik Base,” General Alan said. “It certainly is troubling. Unfortunately, we have lost our recon resources over the Arctic Ocean, and the Chinese keep destroying whatever we put up. So far, at least, there are no reports of enemy combatants in Prudhoe Bay or ANWR.”

“The fact the Chinese want to keep us in the dark over the Arctic Ocean tells us all we need to know,” the President said.

“Either that, sir,” General Alan said, “or that is what they want us to believe.”

President Clark frowned. “We need accurate data for an informed decision. I want reconnaissance flights made over the Arctic Ocean.”

“Yes, sir,” General Alan said. “We have several squadrons of winterized aircraft there, but almost no specialized UAVs for that environment.”

“Send them,” Clark said.

“It will take time.”

“Then start doing it now.” Clark drummed his fingers on the table as he glanced at Anna. “In order for everyone here to gain a clearer picture of who we’re dealing with, I would also like you, Ms. Chen, to give us a quick profile on the Chairman.”

Anna blushed as every eye turned toward her. “What specifics do you wish to know, sir?”

“Brief us on what you think is important for us to know about him.”

“Yes, sir,” Anna said. She sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Then she began to speak.

ARCTIC OCEAN

Paul awoke as the snowcat clanked up a pressure ridge. This one was an easy thirty feet higher than the surrounding terrain. The cat and therefore Paul’s seat tilted back at a steep angle.

He gripped the underside of his seat and looked out the right-side window. The pressure ridge snaked lengthways for as far as he could see. In the past, two plates of sea-ice had smashed against each other, grinding this ridge into existence. Icebreaker captains—those who used heavily-hulled ships to create a passage through ice—avoided pressure ridges if they could. Like an iceberg, pressure ridges had deeper ice below the waterline than what showed above. If it went thirty feet up here, the pressure ridge likely went an easy sixty or ninety feet down into the ocean.

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