by Andrew Watts
Most of the missiles were subsonic sea-skimming versions of the C-802. They sped along fifty feet above the water until the final stage of flight, when they began sprinting the last twenty-five miles at nearly three times the speed of sound—faster than many bullets travel.
Some of the missiles were the newly developed “carrier killers.” Supersonic medium-range ballistic missiles—the DF-21D. Four of them were fired at the USS Carl Vinson. Those ones weren’t among the sea-skimming missiles. The carrier killers launched up into space and then came back down with ferocious speed. The reentry vehicles traveled at Mach six and glided almost thirty miles towards their target. Two of them missed, hitting the water in between the USS Carl Vinson and her escorts.
Two of them hit.
Both reentry vehicles weighed more than a thousand pounds and carried warheads of over five hundred pounds. At six times the speed of sound, the damage was nothing short of catastrophic. The aft end of the USS Carl Vinson exploded as one of the missiles detonated upon impacting the flight deck, leaving a giant hole right where the jets normally landed. The second DF-21 hit triggered secondary explosions from stored fuel and munitions, turning huge portions of the carrier into a blazing inferno.
Miles to the west, the surface-to-air missiles fired from the USS Lake Champlain began intercepting the massive flock of subsonic anti-ship missiles. One of the destroyers was also firing now.
As some of the anti-ship missiles made it past the picket line of SAMs, the escort ships and aircraft carrier itself began firing their shorter-range defense weapons. Rolling airframe missiles began firing towards the incoming anti-ship missiles, hoping to score a kinetic kill. Then the Phalanx Close In Weapon System—a giant Gatling gun—fired thousands of tungsten penetrator rounds, the noise sounding like the giant zipper of an angry god.
Dozens of missiles made it through the defensive weapons, wisps of white shooting over the deep blue sea, and into the haze-gray Navy warships. Explosions of smoke and fire filled the air, and a rain of hot metal and ash, seawater and flesh, came down on the sea.
Scenes similar to this attack on the USS Lake Champlain and Carl Vinson battle group played out across the Western Pacific. Chinese satellites and ISR collection fed continuous tracking solutions into their military network.
And it was just the beginning.
The third wave. The cleanup crew.
The fifteen Chinese H-6K strategic bombers flew in a loose formation, each within twenty miles of the lead aircraft. Each bomber had a crew of four, a wingspan of 108 feet, and a cruise speed of just over 470 miles per hour. The planners had drawn up their route of flight to ensure that they were out of the way during the electromagnetic pulse attack. Their equipment was hardened against electromagnetic pulse weapons, but there was no need to test it. Takeoff was timed so that they were feet wet only one hour after the EMP.
“Target confirmed,” came the voice of the flight commander over the encrypted radio. He had just received updated targeting information. “All aircraft cleared to fire.”
The flight commander gave the internal instruction to his crew. Their grueling training over the past few weeks was about to be put to the test. They would strike at the heart of the great American Navy—the carrier strike groups in the Western Pacific—and cripple them within the opening hours of the war.
The cruise missiles began dropping from his aircraft. His heavy bomber weighed so much that he felt no indication that they had come off the rails. The missiles’ boosters began igniting, and he saw trails of gray smoke shooting off into the distance, one by one. More of the missiles appeared in his peripheral vision outside his cockpit window. These ones were fired from the other aircraft. Soon the sky was filled with cruise missiles, heading off to the east.
Each of the Chinese bombers carried six anti-ship cruise missiles. The shore-based missiles were timed to launch just before the strategic bombers attacked, but the mission commander had no way of knowing whether that part of the plan had been executed properly.
Ten SU-30s, purchased from Russia in 2004, were on a similar mission up north. They were armed with the lethal KH-31 anti-ship cruise missile.
Reconnaissance aircraft and Chinese satellites had spent the last few hours identifying targets. Some of the satellites would likely be damaged from the EMP, but they would make do with backup collection sources. The intelligence officers on the island were gaining coordinates and passing them on to the shooters. The planners then assigned each bomber a list of targets in flight. Truth be told, they didn’t even know which ships they were shooting at. It was just a latitude and longitude for the cruise missiles to aim for, until the missiles began their own active search.
The ocean was half ghost yard. Some of the ships had survived the EMP strikes without too much impact to their systems. Others hadn’t been so lucky.
Miles away from the Chinese bomber aircraft, the USS Lake Champlain was now floating without power, having already been hit by several land-based anti-ship missiles. The men and women aboard were busy fighting fires and trying to stop the flooding. The radar and combat systems had been damaged in the attack. And they had no warning that another was now taking place.
Two anti-ship cruise missiles launched from the H-6K bomber ripped into the injured Lake Champlain within seconds of each other. The already bad flooding became worse as fuel and munitions ignited, creating secondary explosions.
The ship sank within minutes.
The Chinese radar plane flew high above the battle space, helping the now-attacking Chinese forces to maintain a clear picture of what was going on. The KJ-3000 was China’s latest version of the American Air Force’s AWACS—the Airborne early warning radar plane. It was a massive aircraft, and odd looking as most radar planes were. The giant airframe had a saucer-shaped radar fixed atop it.
“Surface-to-air missiles being launched from the Japanese warship Myoko, sir.”
The Chinese air force officer who commanded the radar plane heard the call over his internal communications circuit. He watched his display screen as volleys of Japanese surface-to-air missiles began racing towards the Chinese anti-ship missiles. Decades of Chinese military modernization were about to be put to use. Would the advances in Chinese technology be as good as advertised? Would there be enough missiles to overcome the air defense systems?
The commander looked at his two groups of attacking air units. He said, “Vector two of the SU-30s towards the Japanese ship. I see multiple surface-to-air missiles originating from vicinity of the USS Carl Vinson, to the south. Send the rest of the SU-30s towards her. Those two carriers are our priority.”
“Yes, sir.”
The SU-30s, inbound from the north, received their new instructions from the KJ-3000 radar controllers. Two of them immediately turned towards the Japanese destroyer, firing their KH-31 anti-ship missiles. The KJ-3000 was using electronic attack measures to spoof the destroyer, tricking and confusing their radar picture.
The KH-31 missiles traveled only fifty feet over the ocean at nearly three times the speed of sound. The Japanese destroyer knew that they were coming but wasn’t able to do anything about it. Their anti-air resources were no match for the electronic malfunctions from the EMP attack coupled with the electronic attack from the KJ-3000.
The missiles detonated on impact.
Two hundred pounds of high-explosive shaped charge collided with the steel hull at a speed of fifteen hundred miles per hour. The center of the Japanese destroyer exploded, and those who weren’t killed in the blast either died in the fires that followed or went to the bottom of the ocean as it sank.
The commander of the Chinese radar aircraft zoomed out on his display. His datalink was being updated in real time by all the connected Chinese units. All over the Western Pacific, Chinese air and naval forces had begun their attacks. He looked at Taiwan—it was a jumble of red and blue air tracks. Most of them missiles launched from the Chinese mainland. Both Taiwan and Japan were being inundated by Chinese conv
entional missiles.
North Korea was invading the South. That would keep the Americans stationed there, and the South Korean military, more than busy.
31
Osan Air Base, South Korea
Chase and the other CIA employees were sitting in the pitch-black trailer.
“Why aren’t the backup lights coming on?” someone asked.
“Must have been a transformer. You hear that boom outside?”
“Yeah, but the backup lights should still come back on.”
Chase was as blind as a bat, feeling his way around the compartment. He could hear more cursing as one of the other CIA agents shuffled their way to the door. The ambient noise level of the room was eerily quiet without all the electronics and cooling fans running.
Then one of the guards opened the door from the outside, and a rush of light and air came in. “You guys okay?” They all walked outside of the trailer, the guard locking the door behind them.
“What’s going on?”
“Don’t know. Everyone’s power just went out.”
Chase didn’t think that was it. “Anyone have a cell phone?”
One of the guards got his phone out of his bag. “Yeah, here. Hold on, the power’s off. That’s weird, I never turn it off.” He kept pressing the power button. “Shit. It won’t turn on. Sorry.”
Chase said, “I don’t think it’s just you.”
Another giant boom reverberated throughout the hangar. It sounded much closer. The group ducked in unison as the ground rumbled beneath their feet. Through the hangar doors, Chase could see clouds of yellow and black explosions billowing up on the far side of the runway.
Tetsuo said, “My God.”
Chase watched as more smoke plumes rose from the runway and hangars. The sounds of explosions followed a second later. And there was a new sound. The ripping roar of fighter jets overhead.
“Come on.” Tetsuo tapped him on the shoulder, and they cautiously walked out of the hangar. Dark aircraft silhouettes maneuvered thousands of feet above them, yellow tracer rounds shooting out ahead of them. Chase couldn’t see what they were firing at.
He looked around the flight line. Base fire trucks sprayed water on burning buildings. Medical teams raced to help the wounded. But the wounded were everywhere, and the attack had just begun. All around him were chunks of metal, stone, and flesh.
“What is that?”
Chase looked to the north. Flying just a few dozen feet over the rooftops were a pair of large old biplanes—they looked like they were out of an old World War I movie.
“What the hell?”
The aircraft climbed up and turned to parallel the runway. Then tiny black figures began falling out the side of each aircraft, parachutes streaming open as they fell, their white canopies filling with air and then floating down to the ground. Floating down to the grass next to the runway, Chase realized.
“I think those are North Korean soldiers.”
Chase shook his head in disbelief. There couldn’t have been more than thirty of them, most still parachuting slowly to the ground. Chase now had a Sig Sauer P228 in a thigh holster, but he had put the carbine into a locker in the CIA trailer. He was about to tell Tetsuo that they should go get it when he saw movement on the far side of the runway.
The Delta operators were on it. The same three men that Chase had been in China with for the last week. They must have seen the North Korean paratroopers and were now taking up firing positions, two on rooftops and one in a jeep. Chase watched as the North Korean soldiers began going down, one by one.
A group of five North Koreans were running toward one of the base medical teams, who were working on an injured person. The five each hit the pavement within seconds of each other, courtesy of the Delta operators’ quick shooting.
Some of the paratroopers hadn’t even landed before they took rounds in the chest. Chase thought about whether that was an honorable way to kill, but he quickly shook off the thought. These North Korean soldiers had just invaded, and their missiles and artillery were now killing civilians in the area. This was about economics, not honor. They needed to kill as many of the invaders as possible before they could do damage.
The war had begun. And Chase was standing on the front lines.
He looked up and saw a cluster of dark green helicopters—Chinooks—flying north in formation. Those would be the South Korean or US Army helos, executing a preplanned response.
“Chase!” Tetsuo shouted at him as more explosions lit off nearby.
“What?” He could barely hear anything over the ringing in his ears.
“We need to get out of here and get to Natesh,” Tetsuo yelled into his ear. “We need to see if we can get a flight out somewhere. But we’re in a target zone. North Korean rockets and artillery are too close to take off here…”
Chase nodded. He was right. They had to assume that this North Korean attack coincided with Chinese plans. And if China was attacking…
Susan needed them to get to Japan. They had to find Natesh and see if he could provide intelligence on the location of Chinese merchants. Something was on those ships that was going to be a game changer for the Chinese, and they needed to stop it before it happened…if it wasn’t already too late.
They found the young CIA operative who had driven Chase earlier. He waved them to follow, and they jogged around the back of the hangar and got into a Humvee. They drove along the base perimeter and then turned to travel outside the gate.
Traffic was a mess. People were running and screaming in all directions. A drugstore had been hit by one of the missiles. A shell of the building was left, and the apartment complex next to it had caught fire.
They drove for what seemed an eternity, although it was more like an hour. Tetsuo drove on to the sidewalk in some cases to get around crashes and traffic jams. The heavily populated Korean towns were a mix of untouched urban areas and smoking rubble.
“Where are we going?”
The CIA operative said, “To another base. One farther south. I think you’ll be able to get a flight out of there.”
More helicopters flew overhead now. Dozens of them, all heading north. Chase caught sight of the words United States Army in black lettering on the side of one.
Rockets shot up into the air ahead of them. Bright yellow flashes in rapid succession, white trails of smoke following the rockets as they angled into the sky.
“What are those?”
“I think they’re surface-to-air missiles.”
“They’re trying to shoot down the North Korean Scuds.”
Chase said, “Are we going to be able to get out of here in this?”
“I don’t know.”
They took another turn, and then Chase saw that they were about to enter another base.
“What base is this? Will they fly us out in this?”
“Desiderio Army Airfield. It’s one of the largest bases around. I’ve only been here once, but it was for a flight to Japan. So I know they do that here.”
Chase could see smoke coming up from the ground near the runway. At least one missile had hit the base, although being this far south, they were far better off than Osan had been. Dark green helicopters were spinning on the pads everywhere he looked. Blackhawks. Apaches. Chinooks.
Every so often, a column of soldiers would jog into one of the helicopters. After several of the helicopters were filled with troops, a formation of them would take off and fly away to the north.
One of the base guards pointed his rifle at the car while they scanned their IDs. Behind a sandbag bunker, another gate guard, his eyes cold, aimed a heavy machine gun at them. Then the gate guard nodded and cleared them to enter. A minute later, they drove up to a white building in the center of the base.
A moment later, they stood in the air transfer office waiting area, trying to figure out if they would be able to get to Japan.
“That’s the last flight. They have a high-priority passenger going to Yokota, but we haven’t been able
to clear them for takeoff with the Koreans. For obvious reasons.” The man behind the counter at the base ops building kept looking out the window as he spoke. “Most of our electronics are fried. We think they used cyberattacks. Shit, I hope my wife is okay. I haven’t been able to reach her. By the way, did you guys pass by…”
More rumbles as explosions went off outside and Chase couldn’t hear the end of the man’s sentence. His face was white, eyes wide.
“Look, the pilots are getting ready to go in case they get clearance. There’s seats available. You talk to them if you want to get on. There’s nothing else I can do here.” He closed his window and headed back to the phone.
Chase and Tetsuo walked outside and over to a gray Army C-12 aircraft. Two big propellers on each side, with enough seats for about eight people, stuffed in like sardines. The doors were open and it looked like they were making preparations to start it up. Air crew and maintenance personnel ran around, removing tags and conducting preflight inspections.
Tetsuo and Chase jogged over to them. “Where are you guys headed?”
Another boom, and the group ducked. They looked over at the airfield tower, which had been hit with blast fragments. The windows were shattered, and no one was standing up inside. Medics and uniformed personnel ran towards the tower to help the wounded.
One of the pilots of the C-12 said, “We’re headed to Yokota Air Base.”
“Do you have room for two more?”
“Yeah, but that’s all.”
Tetsuo said, “We’ll take it.”
The pilot said, “Normally I would say you need a safety brief and to get your names on the manifest, but I think today’s an exception. Just strap in. We’re not waiting for clearance.”
They did as instructed. Chase walked down the narrow airplane corridor as the cabin door was shut behind him. Nervous eyes of the other passengers watched him as he made his way in. Most of them wore Army fatigues. A few were in civilian clothing. Chase was still buckling his seat belt when they began rolling down the taxiway for takeoff.