Invasion: China (Invasion America) (Volume 5) Read online

  ALAN: It’s still too soon to expect any of them to defect. The Chinese Navy still rules their local waters. Until we can use our submarines to challenge the Chinese hold on the Eastern Pacific— HAROLD: I’m aware of our marine strategy. For several weeks now, no new reinforcements of any kind have reached Mexico.

  ALAN: That’s a misleading statement, Director. Doctor Levin has already informed us of the new understanding. The South American Federation has agreed to supply the PAA Mexico-based army. Even now, Chinese army groups prepare themselves for a new offensive into Texas.

  MCGRAW: We’re ready for them. I can assure you of that.

  HAROLD: That begs the question. We invaded China primarily in order to pull their army out of Mexico. The Chinese military is in an even better situation in Mexico now that the SAF are entraining all supplies from South America. Our submarines cannot sink trains.

  MCGRAW: Our Texas-based troops will halt any—

  HAROLD: General, this is a political matter, not a simple military tactic. Opinion polls are quite clear on the issue. The American people presently support our invasion of China, believing as we do that it will solve the Mexico situation. The trouble is that Hong is outlasting us. We have to put an end to him or the war now, not at some later date.

  ALAN: I suspect this conference has to do with Premier Konev’s envoy meeting with you two days ago.

  HAROLD: That’s insightful. Yes, you’re right, of course. Gentlemen, we’re defeating the Chinese in Manchuria, but at too slow a rate. We’re giving them time to train new troops. We know the danger of that, because we did it to them.

  MCGRAW: Three million soldiers are too few to conquer China. They may not even be enough to take Manchuria.

  HAROLD: As allies with the Russians, we’re driving through Mongolia and Manchuria.

  MCGRAW: I understand. This war looks like the long haul, though. Doubling Allied numbers to six million won’t give us China, either.

  HAROLD: In that sense, I agree with you. We have to do more than simply militarily defeat over a billion people. We must stun their hearts and change their thinking about this. We must pulverize the Chinese so they lose faith in Hong or in any further foreign adventures. We must make them yearn to call their Mexico-based army back home.

  LEVIN: Are you finally considering my suggestion, that we make peace with China?

  HAROLD: Under the condition of their removal of their army in Mexico, and with the proviso of Colonel Valdez’s accession to the Mexican presidency, yes, I could accept that.

  LEVIN: You mean Valdez’s elevation through a national election?

  HAROLD: I mean that he becomes the president. How he sugarcoats his rise doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.

  ALAN: You raise interesting points. The key is this. Is Hong finally ready to negotiate and agree to our terms?

  HAROLD: There are no signs that he is. Thus, we must increase the tempo of our invasion of his country.

  LEVIN: It is my understanding that Premier Konev is reluctant to incur massive Slavic casualties. The old GD equipment—the AI Kaisers and drones—have also taken incredible losses. How much longer will the Russians attack? They desire Mongolia and Manchuria. I very much doubt they plan to drive deeper into China.

  HAROLD: You talk about the AI Kaisers as if they were human. Machines don’t take losses. They are destroyed.

  LEVIN: Please forgive me my incorrect verbiage.

  HAROLD: There’s no need to get touchy, Doctor.

  LEVIN: My point is that Konev isn’t likely to send massive reinforcements to Manchuria to engage in great battles of attrition. Besides, the Europeans are running out of Kaisers and don’t plan to build more. Konev might be satisfied with his present conquests. If we’re to convince him to do more, someone other than his Russians will have to take the brunt of losses needed for us to continue an offensive deeper into China.

  HAROLD: You’ve hit the mark of the matter and the need for this meeting.

  MCGRAW: I hope you’re not suggesting America sends more soldiers to China. I only agreed to help the Russians, not take over the brunt of the war on our shoulders.

  HAROLD: Who else besides us has the resolve to go on to victory?

  MCGRAW: That isn’t what we’re talking about, but rather, American losses, American dead.

  HAROLD: Gentlemen, we must defeat the Chinese. I hope no one here questions that. We have allies now. We must use them. We must entice and prod Konev into sending more Russians, Poles and Ukrainians into the fray. Together, we can smash China’s home front and force Hong to sue for peace. This isn’t about conquering the entire country, but showing Hong and his toadies the hopelessness of his position.

  MCGRAW: How will we entice Konev into this?

  HAROLD: There is only one method that I know of. We must send more troops ourselves and show him he has a faithful ally.

  MCGRAW: And if the Chinese attack out of Mexico into Texas?

  HAROLD: You will stop them as you told us.

  ALAN: Which troops do we send into the Manchurian meat grinder?

  HAROLD: If we’re going to win fast, we have to use the best we have.

  ALAN: With Behemoths?

  HAROLD: No. Those must remain in Texas and New Mexico to face the Chinese here.

  MCGRAW: Why not send some Militia troops?

  HAROLD: They never signed up for that, General. They’re only for use in America. Besides, I think you’ll agree that…

  End of transcript #1

  NEW YORK, NEW YORK (TRANSCRIPT)

  16 July 2042

  Festival of Lights

  Participants: Harold, Militia General Williamson.

  Transcript #2 takes place near a band of cheering people.

  HAROLD: This is in the strictest confidence, General.

  WILLIAMSON: You can count on me, sir.

  HAROLD: I know I can. We can no longer speak in the Rose Garden. I believe someone has planted listening devices superior to what my people can find.

  WILLIAMSON: Would you like me to work on discovering the culprit?

  HAROLD: That’s a good idea. You can begin once you carry out this assignment. (Long pause.) We’re going to send another draft of soldiers to China. I managed to convince the others to transport another one hundred thousand Americans in the first wave, and two hundred thousand in the second.

  WILLIAMSON: Those are large numbers, sir.

  HAROLD: It’s a political risk, I know. What I want from you are lists. We’re going to continue to send the politically untrustworthy to Manchuria. If they die, they die—as long as they kill enough Chinese to bring Hong to his senses. We must get rid of the Chinese Army in Mexico, now more than ever.

  WILLIAMSON: Do you wish me to speak with Premier Konev again?

  HAROLD: Yes, that would be wise…

  End of transcript #2

  WASHINGTON, DC

  While under her blanket in bed, with a strong scent of roses around her, Anna clicked off her flashlight. Before putting the tablet under her pillow, she removed the chip. She put the chip in her mouth, got up and went to the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet, she blew her nose, spitting the chip into the tissue. She dropped that between her legs and flushed.

  Afterward, she lay down, thinking. Harold culled the military of the patriots. That was clear. Just as clear, Levin didn’t like what Harold did. The CIA director was building a conspiracy against the most powerful of the three dictators. She wondered if Levin had spoken to McGraw or Alan about this. Or would those two want the patriots out of the way as Harold did?

  She didn’t envy those soldiers, nor did she believe they could conquer China, even with Russia’s help and even with nearly five million Chinese soldiers out of the way in Mexico. The country was too big and the numbers too great for conquerors to establish garrisons everywhere while the rest finished the battles.

  America was quickly becoming enmeshed in a war it could never win.

  What can I do about it?

  Levi
n had taken a risk coming to her for a reason. Yes, he must want her to wake and rehabilitate David if she could. How could she, though? That was the question. Her eyelids kept lowering, shrinking her area of vision, until she fell asleep thinking about it.

  WANBAOZHEN, JILIN PROVINCE

  Jake panted. He clutched Cowboy’s right arm and Chet had his left. They dragged the wounded soldier. Enemy mortar shells slammed against the ground, blowing geysers of shrapnel, rubble and dirt. Jake heard hissing past his head and couldn’t believe nothing hit him.

  Then the back of Cowboy’s neck spurted blood. His helmeted head dipped far too forward, practically dragging against the ground.

  By unspoken agreement, Jake and Chet dropped him, and they both flattened. More shells screamed down, slamming against the earth. Pieces of rubble rained like hail.

  “Over there!” Chet shouted.

  Jake scrambled on his hands and knees, panting harder than ever. He crawled and threw himself behind a masonry wall. Chet did likewise.

  The mortar attack continued another several minutes. Then it stopped, and an eerie silence descended.

  “Think they’re trying to trick us?” Chet asked.

  “Don’t know,” Jake said.

  It was July 17, and the war had changed. For one thing, regular Chinese soldiers fought in the front lines. The word Jake heard was they came from overseas—not from Mexico, but from Japan, Indonesia and other Asian countries. And he couldn’t swear to it, but it seemed as if the regular Chinese people had been issued with revolvers and rifles. The civilians didn’t attack with just hand grenades anymore.

  “Now,” Jake said. He rose to his knees and laid his assault rifle on the concrete wall. Sure enough, some enemy soldiers dashed hunched over toward them. Jake pulled the trigger.

  The enemy dropped. He didn’t think he’d hit any. These boys knew to stay low to the ground.

  Chet and he were the rearguard today. Battalion had entered Wanbaozhen. They were attempting to clear the urban areas north of Changchun, getting ready for the big city assault.

  The Auto City, as Changchun was nicknamed, towered in the hazy distance. The Russians had been closing in from the northwest. The US 3rd Army Group came straight down from the north, still using the G1 Expressway as its main supply route.

  This wasn’t going to be anything like Harbin. Giant tank traps fronted Changchun, and plenty of Chinese soldiers and partisans filled the provincial city. If little old Wanbaozhen was a precursor of Changchun, taking out the city of eight million was going to the mother of all bitches.

  Chet pulled a pin, stood and hurled a mag-grenade. It tumbled through the air. Machine gun bullets hammered at him. He threw himself down.

  Jake also pulled back, and they crawled along the concrete wall. Steel-jacketed 12.7mm bullets began punching through it where they had been.

  The mag-grenade crumped. A Chinese soldier began screaming. Chet had a gift with those.

  Crouched behind the half-wall, the two men stared at each other. Black dirt coated Chet’s face. He looked like a raccoon with his staring eyes. Jake was sure he looked just as haunted.

  “Too bad about Cowboy,” Chet said.

  “Yeah.”

  They’d been losing men in the squad, the platoon, heck, in the battalion. Everyone wanted the infantry for something. Clear this place, garrison that town, go check out the woods and make sure there’s no guerilla camp at the location. Jake heard the commanders were requesting more infantry battalions from the States.

  “One more time,” Chet said.

  “They’ll be waiting for it.”

  “I know. But we have to keep them honest.”

  Suddenly, Jake’s mouth was dry. It was too hot. He hadn’t figured Manchuria for an oven. Fumbling in his kit, he pulled out a heavy mag-grenade.

  “One, two, three, now,” Chet said.

  Jake pulled the pin, gathered his nerve for the millionth time, and stood up. Chinese soldiers sprinted for their position. One of them shouted, pointing. They’d been headed for the old spot. Jake drew back his arm and heaved.

  Two grenades tumbled through the air. Jake could see one of the Chinese opened his eyes as wide as could be.

  Then Jake ducked behind the wall, and he crawled again, away from the wall this time.

  Crump, crump, and lots of screaming and shouts in Chinese for medics.

  “They’re going to shell us again,” Chet said.

  “Let’s run!” Jake shouted. He climbed to his feet, and he sprinted. He almost twisted his ankle, and that might have been the end of it. His boot slid off a piece of concrete. But he’d laced his boots up all the way. The leather held, and he continued to run.

  They both made it around a bakery as mortar shells rained where they’d been.

  A last IFV waited for them. To Jake, it seemed like paradise, the entrance to Heaven. His chest pounded and the air hurt his throat. But he had no intention of stopping.

  The IFV’s 30mm began to vomit tongues of flame as the gunner fired at Chinese soldiers.

  Almost sobbing with effort, Jake dove into the back. Chet followed on his heels. The IFV revved and took off as the back began to close.

  Sweat dug runnels through the grime on his face. Hands pounded Jake’s back, and he found himself laughing with relief.

  The extent of the resistance in Wanbaozhen had surprised all of them. This was new for the Chinese. If Jake had to guess, the enemy meant to hold Changchun at all costs.

  It looked as if it might be a meat grinder. Well, they’d have to take the places like Wanbaozhen first.

  The IFV took the squad a mile to where the rest of battalion waited.

  Then the US Army brought the 155s to bear. As Jake ate a hot meal and washed his face, the tubes thundered. He shaded his eyes at times, watching buildings crumble. Sure, the artillery might kill some of the defenders, but they were going to make it impossible to drive IFVs and tanks through the place. In would turn into a mini-fortress of rubble.

  “Is this what Changchun is going to be like?” Chet asked.

  “We didn’t move fast enough,” Jake said. “The Chinese had time to get their professionals home.”

  “Enough of them?” asked Chet.

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “That’s the question all right.”

  A whooshing sound and a roar came from overhead. He looked up. Three sleek bombers raced for Wanbaozhen. They climbed as they stretched past battalion’s position. Jake hadn’t seen too many aircraft lately.

  The bombers dropped fuel-air bombs. Giant canisters tumbled from their bays. A titanic blast and then another and another seemed to lift Wanbaozhen into the air. After that, the place became an inferno. Oily black smoke billowed. Soon, Jake could smell the stink.

  “Are they going to want us to go back into that?” Chet asked.

  Jake stared at him.

  Chet nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a stupid question.”

  It turned out battalion went in an hour later after the fires had died down some. The IFVs crept toward what was left of Wanbaozhen. As they neared the outskirts, the metal vehicles surged ahead.

  A dog raced in the path of one. The driver swerved, but it didn’t help. With a howl, the dog disappeared under the tracks.

  Soon, the IFVs disgorged their soldiers. Body-armored Americans begin picking their way through the ruins. Black frameworks smoked. Electrical wires lay everywhere, one of them sparking.

  Jake nervously stroked his assault rifle. He tried to look everywhere at once. Maybe those had been the new air fuel bombs dropped on Wanbaozhen.

  “This is incredible,” Chet said. “I’ve never seen damage like this.”

  “Maybe we can take Changchun,” Jake said.

  “Don’t know about that. If the Chinese try to hold onto the city, they’re going to fill it with antiair platforms.”

  Jake kept looking here, there. The hot sun beat down on the carnage. It illuminated dark corners. A soldier with his helmet had melted features. His teet
h looked more like animal tusks.

  In the very center, battalion found resistance. Lieutenant Wans told them how it would go. The platoon trudged through rubble and charred wood, finally swinging around to come in from behind. Battalion encircled the last Chinese, and it cost them three wounded and two dead to kill forty-eight desperate soldiers and civilians.

  “They’re not surrendering as fast as they used to,” Chet said.

  “I noticed,” Jake said. Then he looked south at Changchun’s spires. How many Chinese cities would it take before their platoon was slowly but remorselessly whittled down to nothing?

  CHANGCHUN RING EXPRESSWAY, JILIN PROVINCE

  The night battle for the northern part of the Changchun Ring Expressway burned hot for 10th Armored Division and the rest of V Corps.

  The G12, G1, G102 from the north and the S101 from the northeast joined around Changchun in an expressway that circled Auto City. Instead of waiting inside Changchun, Chinese heavy tanks came out to battle the approaching Americans as interior city artillery supported them.

  According to American and Russian intelligence, the Chinese Fifth Army and elements of Ninth Army had reinforced the Twenty-third Militia Army and hundreds of thousands of newly armed civilians.

  Stan’s armored division led the American attack as they knocked on the city’s front porch. The Russians were swinging west of Changchun in hopes of encircling it.

  Sitting in his command tank, Stan was close enough to the action that he heard the clang of Chinese sabot rounds gonging off Jeffersons.

  Stan pulled out every trick he could think of. He rained steel on the tri-turreted tanks, closing in on them, fighting almost toe to toe. He learned the Chinese had reinforced the glaces, and for ten minutes of frightful exchanges, the two sides killed one for one of each other.