Invasion: Alaska (44 page)

“Your strategy was brilliant, sir.”

“Yes,” said the Chairman, “it was brilliant. But this is a waiting period only, as far as the people are concerned. We must quickly defeat the Americans.”

“We are winning the war,” Jian said.

“We are advancing in the Kenai Peninsula. But we are not necessarily
winning
.”

“I bow to your superior insights, sir.”

“As well you should. Didn’t my insights allow the military to conquer Siberia?”

“Most certainly, sir.”

“Was it not me who returned Taiwan to the mainland?”

“You have guided our nation through its hardest times.”

“You are an uncommonly perceptive, Shihong. It is one of the reasons I’ve given you political control of the invasion.”

“The honor you’ve heaped on me—” Jian shook his head. “I will do everything in my power to make sure the invasion succeeds.”

“I’m pleased to hear you say that, very pleased.”

“I will not fail you, sir.”

“Tell me,” the Chairman said. “How does the cross-polar attack proceed?”

Before Jian could answer, an outline of the Alaskan North Slope coast appeared on the screen. Dead Horse was shown, as it was on the doorstep of the Prudhoe Bay oilfields. The pack ice stretched away from the coast. On the western portion of the pack ice was a dotted line, which ended at the west edge of the screen.

“You see before you the line of advance of our Cross-Polar Taskforce,” the Chairman said.

“It would seem that the general-in-charge has been tardy in his advance,” Jian said.

“Which is why,” said the Chairman, with a strange glitter in his eyes, “it was wise of me to allow Army High Command to give General Nung a special East Lightning Commissar.”

Jian didn’t understand what the Chairman was trying to imply. He therefore spoke carefully. “I’ve read General Nung’s biography. The man is considered an attack specialist.”

“Nung
was
an attack specialist.”

Jian bowed his head. “May I ask you to clarify something for me?”

“You may.”

“Why did Army High Command ask for an East Lightning Commissar to watch Nung? I though the Army and the Political Police were at odds with each other.”

“You know so little, Jian. You are like a child among predatory wolves. It is your youth, I believe. It is also one of the reasons I have seen fit to give you a second chance at life.”

“Sir?” whispered Jian, the ability to keep his composure dwindling because of the direction of the conversation.

“How does one maintain power?”

“I would not presume to instruct the premier master on the subject.”

“That shows you have a modicum of wisdom. One of the key ingredients is to set your underlings at war with one another. Always give them overlapping areas of authority. That ensures they will squabble with each other, and in time, they will run to the highest authority to act as a judge on a particular dispute. It means the politically grasping underlings will spend their time and energy fighting each other instead of trying to topple the one in charge.”

“I see,” Jian said, and he did. It made him think of Deng Fong and him. The thought chilled Jian.
He has used me. He has pitted me against Deng
.

“The members of Army High Command hate General Nung,” the Chairman said. “He is an outsider and Russian-trained in lightning warfare. The Russians have never forgotten the bitter lessons taught to them by the World War Two Germans.”

“Ah,” Jian said.

“Yet all that is beside the point. The cross-polar attack has stalled. I desire for you to travel to General Nung and put a fire under him.”

“Sir?”

“Nung must strike the North Slope oilfields
now
. He must do it as my naval soldiers drive into Anchorage. War is only partly about fighting. It is more about morale, about perceptions. If the Americans see every front crashing around them, they will be more willing to sue for peace. We need their grain, and we need it now. Therefore, I desire that we accelerate the pace of our attacks. It was my desire to try to coordinate these two events to bring about American hopelessness and to encourage their peace demonstrators to bring an end to what they will come to call ‘a senseless war’.”

“That is a brilliant plan and analysis, sir. My single concern is—”

“Is about your safety,” the Chairman said. “Yes, I know.”

Frightened, Jian bowed his head. “I would never disagree with you, sir. But my greatest concern is for China.”

“What is your point?”

“Uh…uh,” Jian said. “What is the fastest way to General Nung?”

“Very good,” the Chairman said. “I thought you were about to ask why I should send you instead of, say, Marshal Kao.”

“I’m completely convinced that you have your reasons, sir, and that few of us could understand the brilliance of those reasons.”

“Hmm, that is overly perceptive of you. Therefore, I will try to explain. My military commanders are like golf clubs. I used to be quite good at golf, you know.”

“Your exploits on the greens are legendary, sir.”

“Like golf clubs, one general is excellent for putts. Another is like a driving iron. General Nung is like a sand wedge, a fast attacker, one who yearns to lunge. I have waited in order to pick the correct time to use General Nung to make his lunge. I am a military genius, particularly when it comes to timing.”

“The entire world knows of your brilliance, sir.”

“No! The entire world believes that I fought a weak rump state named Siberia. I have read the books about the campaign. Many say that if Russia had the will to fight, they would have demolished the Chinese, meaning my brilliant concepts.”

“The Europeans who wrote such drivel are small men, sir. Their obvious envy of you and your greatness disgusts me.”

“I grant you they are small-minded,” said the Chairman. “But many still listen to them. My point is this: I have carefully selected my generals, often letting rivalries blunt their particular specialties. I do that for carefully thought out reasons. I cannot send Marshal Kao across the ice to do as I desire, because the marshal hates General Nung. Kao will continue to spite the hard-charger. You, on the other hand, will surprise everyone. Because I am old, they will believe I am making a mistake sending you. Do you realize that many see you as a failure, as a bright Party member who cannot carry heavy loads?”

Jian nodded. He did not like the direction the conversation was going.

“You will unleash General Nung. You will urge him to attack the North Slope now. We must demoralize the Americans by twin hammer-blows and end the war quickly. As the great Sun Tzu has said:
If the campaign is protracted, the resources of the state will not be equal to the strain
. Already, I have sent mass shipments of munitions to the invasion fleet. Tank rounds, anti-air missiles, laser fuel, their needs seem endless.”

“May I ask another question, sir?”

“If you can stand more truth concerning yourself,” the Chairman said.

“Why not send a radio signal, urging Nung to this action? Is there a reason why I should travel across the ice?”

“Indeed, Jian Shihong. So you may see what your handiwork has wrought. If you are to become the next Chairman of China, I desire that you have some inkling of what war brings.”

“Sir?” whispered Jian.

“Yes,” the Chairman said. “I have decided to groom you to take my place. You shall need a military exploit, however, to cement your position among the contenders. That is why I send you to General Nung. Once we are victorious there, people will say it was your genius that did it. I send you across the ice to give you a great victory to your credit.”

“No one can take your place, sir,” Jian said, dropping to his knees and bowing his head.

“…you are much wiser than I had suspected. Hmm, get up. Go, and hurry to the airport. Your supersonic jet leaves for Ambarchik Base in the hour. From there, you will fly to General Nung.”

Jian bowed again, and he would have lauded the Chairman with more praise. But the old man’s chair sped toward another opening that appeared in the wall. The Chairman left the room. As the opening closed, the first steel door opened, revealing the two waiting security guards.

Jian decided this was the wrong moment for reflection. He strode toward the two, wondering if he’d been wrong about the Chairman. Maybe instead of playing the old creature, the withered conqueror had been playing him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and one that would require deep thought. First, however, he needed to survive this journey onto the polar ice.

ARCTIC OCEAN

After twelve hours of skiing, with a two-hour nap sandwiched between, Paul was exhausted. As they’d traveled, they’d seen more blinking red lights. Three times, they had hit the ice and lain motionless. One time, Red Cloud claimed to hear a chopper’s
whomp
. Paul had closed his eyes to help him concentrate, but all he’d heard was the steady moan of the arctic wind. Now it was different. Now they heard a plane revving its engines.

“There,” Paul said, panting.

They both hit the ice again. The revving grew louder, but still they saw nothing in the dark Arctic night. After several minutes of this, Paul leaned onto his side, halfway opening his parka.

They had to be careful as they traveled. They had to make sure they didn’t sweat too much. If they did sweat, they had to air themselves out so the moisture didn’t freeze on their bodies and chill them. Paul had learned this winter rule in northern Quebec. It was even truer out here.

Now in the darkness they saw the outline of a cargo plane as it lifted over a pressure ridge and climbed into the polar night. The engines roared, and the plane passed to their right. In time, the sound and plane dwindled, allowing them to hear the hidden camp.

They climbed to their feet and skied to the pressure ridge. It was about twenty feet tall. Paul unhooked his boots from the bindings and laid his skis at the bottom of the ridge. He waited for Red Cloud then the two of them climbed the icy chunks. Soon, Paul eased to the top, peering over.

“Are you seeing this?” Paul whispered.

“Hovertanks, caterpillars, planes and supplies—what is going on?” asked Red Cloud.

Paul unlimbered his assault rifle, propping it on the ice. He put his eye to the lens and began to study the night camp. There were lights strung up and headlamps from various vehicles. He also spied large piles of crates, big tents, a hovercraft park—ah. He noticed a long runway with blinking yellow lights on either side. Small bulldozers pushed snow and ice around it, making ice-walls.

“How did the Chinese
get here
?” Paul asked.

Like Paul, Red Cloud used the scope of his assault rifle to study the dark camp. “My guess is some of them drove across the ice from Siberia. The others were flown in.”

Paul swore softly, and he began to nod. “Maybe it makes sense then their taking out our oilrig. Their line of advance must have taken them near the platform. They killed everyone there because they didn’t want anyone to know what they’re doing.”

“How could they hide this from American and Canadian radar?” asked Red Cloud, “to say nothing about the airlines.”

“Are you kidding? What airlines?”

“Most international flights from Europe to America use the north polar route. It’s shorter going over the top than around. But even that is beside the point. Recon satellites could pinpoint these vehicles through infrared signature. And there are early warning radar stations in Alaska and Canada. Could the Chinese have attacked those stations to blind the North Americans?”

“What if the international flights have stopped?” asked Paul.

“That still leaves the recon satellites.”

“What if the Chinese knocked down the satellites?” Paul asked. “I’ve read about that. Each country’s ABM lasers routinely destroy spy satellites flying over their heartlands. Why not knock them all down? And the radar stations—maybe the Chinese are using highly advanced EW.”

“Electronic warfare?” asked Red Cloud.

“Since taking Taiwan, invading the two Koreas and allying with Japan,” Paul said, “Chinese EW has leaped way ahead of American battlefield tech.”

“Radar is different,” Red Cloud said.

“Remember the stealth fighters we used to deploy?”

Red Cloud grunted.

“Maybe the planes we’ve seen do something like those stealth fighters.”

“I suppose it is possible,” Red Cloud said. “But why would China attack America?”

“Don’t know.”

“I do not either. I can’t believe such an attack is likely.”

Paul laughed grimly. “I wouldn’t have thought it likely until White Tiger Commandos killed everyone at Platform P-53. Something has hit the fan. That’s for sure. Now here’s a Chinese base…what, two hundred miles from the Alaskan coast?”

“The White Tigers destroyed an oilrig,” Red Cloud said thoughtfully, “and oil is the only international commodity northern Alaska possesses. Maybe this is a gathering force meant to destroy the Alaskan oilfields.”