by Tom Hart
The only Chinese resistance of any meaningful kind was a single 20 mm aircraft cannon which an enterprising squad of Chinese infantryman managed to depress towards the hill occupied by the main strike force. One of Rick's companies was forced to withdraw to cover.
Within two minutes the snipers eliminated the crew servicing the canon. This allowed the Australian company to re-enter fight.
Two Australian platoons breached the perimeter fence less than fifteen minutes after Rick's missile signalled the start of the raid. One platoon were combat engineers who placed charges on the remaining aircraft.
One enterprising Australian Captain decided not to destroy the single Chinese attack helicopter sitting by itself on a grass pad. He radioed Rick and suggested the Colonel send up some of the Australian helicopter pilots who were currently enjoying themselves pretending to be infantrymen. The three pilots have been due to rotate back to Australia two weeks ago but got delayed due to administrative errors in their paperwork. For once Rick was happy the Army was so hopeless with its paperwork. The pilots were highly experienced reservists who were helping the Afghan Air Force train their own helicopter pilots. One of the pilots had experience flying Apache attack helicopters from an exchange with the United States Army early in his career. On examination of the Chinese attack helicopter the pilot noted that it was effectively a knockoff of the Apache. While most of the controls were in Mandarin he was quickly able to work out what they did. Rick decided it was all a sign so he authorised the pilot to see how much damage he could do by taking a short flight to a nearby Chinese reserve barracks.
According to the map provided by the US the barracks housed a Chinese infantry Battalion, a reserve unit poorly equipped and of no real status or significance. More of a paramilitary force. But they were still Chinese army. In Rick's mind any Chinese military formation was fair game.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BOOM TIME
The attack helicopter came in low from the South. It failed to respond to routine recognition signals when hailed by a squad of sentries positioned in a watchtower a few kilometres from the barracks. They figured the Chinese pilots were either too lazy or ignorant to know the correct signal. They didn’t bother attempting to contact anyone else about it. They hated the flyer boys who liked to show off their wings at the local bars and steal the women from the regular soldiers. One day they might just fire a rocket at one to let them know who the real tough guys were around here. They went back to their game of cards.
Major William C Hatfield, owner of Hatfield's Helicopter school at Townsville, and twenty year army veteran grinned as he flicked the safety off and positioned his finger lightly on the trigger. The attack helicopter was armed with two rocket pots and three-hundred rounds of 30 mm high explosive ammunition in a rotary barrelled cannon. He was looking forward to this.
The first two rockets obliterated the timber barracks and administrative building while the cannon made short work of any Chinese soldiers foolish enough to venture into the open. Hatfield's observer, Lieutenant Peters, counted over a hundred bodies. Hatfield used his last five rockets to shred the line of lorries parked in a nearby field.
Rick's engineers had just finished placing the final touches to a protective ring of claymores and antitank mines along the two roads leading to the barracks when the first Chinese bomber appeared. It dropped a full load a fuel air explosives onto the wrong hill, setting fire to the tall dry grass and creating so much smoke the next bomber targeted the wrong hill too. Rick's American stinger heat seeking missiles were not affected by smoke and brought down the second bomber with ease.
Rick knew this luck couldn't last so decided it was time for one last hurrah. Using the attack helicopter as a scout a small team from the 4th Commandoes identified a small seemingly insignificant military facility in the next valley. The maps provided by US intelligence did not show the facility but it appeared to be a minor radar node forming part of the Chinese air defence network. It had a single S300 SAM battery, the predecessor to the advanced S400 as well as three 140 mm artillery pieces arrayed in a triangular defensive arrangement. A pair of old Type 65 tanks and four beaten up lorries were parked in a gated compound. The 4th Commando scouts thought it was one of the old repeating stations which the Chinese had hardwired together across the country using fibre optic cables as a redundancy against the destruction of their satellite network.
The Commandoes crept silently towards the steel gate to the compound as the attack helicopter attempted to draw the attention of the artillerymen by putting on an air show. Hatfield did a few lazy rolls then pulled up for a figure eight where he flew the helicopter near upside down. This drew the crowd. Chinese soldiers came out into the compound to wave and cheer him on. Hatfield rewarded them with a storm of 30mm cannon rounds.
The Commandoes used semtex to disable the S300 in its protective bunker then entered the command building. Things went down-hill from there. The Commandoes did not find poorly equipped conscripts as expected. Instead squads of elite infantry from the Red Banner regiment, China's most prestigious army unit, killed the Australians in less than two minutes.
Rick had no time to ponder the broken message from the Captain in command of the Commandoes. A Chinese artillery shell fired from a concealed battery in the next valley landed in front of his feet killing him instantly.
Chinese artillery wiped out the remaining Australians, whose camouflage was of little help against the Chinese spotter drones equipped with infra-red cameras. The warm bodies of the Australians stood out like fireflies on the operator’s consoles.
The Chinese Colonel in charge of site security for radar repeater station Zulu 959 was certain he was going to lose his head. How on earth had the Australian's worked out the Chinese were holding their precious sphere in this sleepy valley? The Americans had been fooled into bombing the dummy site thousands of miles to the North and only a handful of people knew the real sphere was here.
Was there a traitor in the station? Surely not one of his Red Banner troops. They were carefully screened for loyalty to the party. One of the civilians in the scientific team? He would find out. ‘Get my jeep,’ he yelled to his adjutant.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RED BEAR
The Ambassadors arrived back at the excavation site to find Captain Johnson waiting anxiously for them. ‘Sirs,’ she said, her voice laced with urgency ‘please come with me now.’
Robert and Henry exchanged glances. The control trailer screens were all lit up with images of burning office buildings and collapsed bridges. Robert had trouble identifying the location from the smoke. Henry didn't. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘When?’ he asked the Captain.
‘Twenty minutes ago, this is a live feed from an NSA satellite above the North Sea.’
‘Is it the Chinese setting off an earthquake again?’ Robert asked.
‘No, it's worse’ Henry replied.
Robert looked closely at the screen. A pair of square shaped helicopters flew in close formation over the city.
‘MI-24 Hinds,’ a Marine Sergeant said, looking up from his own screen.
‘Russians,’ said Henry. ‘How are our forces doing?’
‘Not well in Estonia, better in Lithuania and Latvia,’ said Johnson. ‘General Worrell has committed the 1st Armoured Division in full and now has only three battalions of the 82nd Airborne in reserve.’
‘What the hell is going on?’ Robert demanded.
‘The Russians have invaded the Baltic States,’ Henry said flatly.
Johnson was listening intently on a satellite phone. She turned to Henry. ‘A Blackhawk is inbound to collect you. The UN Security Council Chairman has called an emergency session. The NATO Deputy Commander will brief you on route to Brussels.’
‘Thank you Captain.’
‘Can I help?’ Robert asked. He had no idea what he could do to help the US repel a Russian invasion of NATO's tiniest members with his own country under occupation.
‘Of course you can
Robert,’ Henry said with a smile. ‘There are four-hundred Australians embedded with the US 5th armoured brigade deployed in Lithuania if I'm not mistaken?’
‘That is correct sir,’ Johnson said. She selected a folder from the map table and flicked through it. She removed a single green sheet of A4 paper. Robert recognised it as a diplomatic cable. ‘This is from the Australian embassy in London to NATO Headquarters.’ Johnson passed it to Robert.
It was short. Robert handed it to Henry while he tried to process its meaning. Henry whistled. ‘Looks like you are dusting off your old army boots Robert, says here you are the command authority for all Australian troops in Europe.
‘It should be the designated Australian exchange officer at NATO headquarters.’ Robert countered.
‘The cable says he's dead,’ said Henry. ‘According to your embassy in the event a NATO member state is attacked and the Australian Government is incapacitated or captured the Australian Ambassador to the United Nations assumes command authority over Australian Forces in Europe.’
Robert shook his head. ‘Sounds like Lieutenant Harrington has been recalled to service,’ Henry said elbowing Robert.
‘I haven't done anything military since Vietnam and even then I only commanded a Platoon.’
‘Just think of them as a big Platoon then.’
‘What are they anyway, I didn't even know Australia had military personnel in Lithuania,’ Robert said feeling ashamed.
Johnson handed Robert another piece of paper for him to read while she summarised. ‘They are in small groups and spread out. A mix of Army and Air Force personnel. Looks like there is an SAS heavy weapons platoon, a flight of four Blackhawks with ground crew and a Rifle Flight which I am told is an Air Force infantry company that defends Air Bases. Oh and there is a Platoon of civil engineers and surveyors who were helping the Lithuanians build a railway tunnel.’
‘Your own little Army,’ Henry said with a smile.
‘What are they doing now?’ Robert asked Johnson.
‘They are dug in around an airbase on the outskirts of Vilnius the Lithuanian Capital. The SAS Platoon are with a company of Rangers at the border engaging a Russian battalion as we speak. The engineers are helping a Lithuanian engineering regiment rig bridges and tunnels with explosives to slow the Russians down.’
‘Fourty-eight hours,’ Henry said.
‘The estimate is at seventy-two hours now sir,’ Johnson said shaking her head.
‘It will be less. I was part of a CIA team that war gamed this extensively during the cold war. The Russians are not what they used to be and neither is NATO but the fundamentals and geography are the same. The Baltic States will fall within forty-eight hours. All we can hope for is NATO forces slow the Russians down long enough for us to reinforce Poland and bring our armoured formations up from Germany,’ Henry said with authority.
‘How did they catch NATO by surprise?’ Robert asked.
‘We have been so busy watching the Chinese,’ Winter's said. All but two European satellites were re-tasked to overwatch of China. Intel suggests the Russians and Chinese are co-ordinating it all.’
‘The Russians must have struck a deal with the Chinese,’ Henry said flatly.
The sound of an approaching helicopter grew louder. A Corporal appeared in the doorway to the trailer. ‘This way to the helipad Sirs.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
EVICTION
The dark green trucks started arriving in the sleepy suburbs of the coastal city of Wollongong from 0530 Sunday morning. Australian families were dragged from their beds and told they had fifteen minutes to pack clothing and personal items. Stoney faced Chinese soldiers forced the bewildered civilians into large white tour buses at gunpoint. None knew where they were being taken.
The buses travelled into the night and until lunchtime the next day. Food packs and water were distributed while grim faced Chinese Sergeants informed the unwilling passengers they were being taken to Melbourne where they would be placed aboard transport vessels for the journey to Tasmania. The Sergeants made use of their tasers to manage the hysteria their commanders had warned them was likely to occur.
The State of Tasmania had been re-designated an Island Prison. All captured Australian military personnel were there, housed in two large razor wired complexes built in only three days by a Chinese engineering Division. The Island Prison was overseen by a Chinese General named Wong who had previously commanded the eight-seven State run prisons in Shanghai. He was a particularly nasty piece of goods. Wong was proud of the fact General Zhang had told him to his face he was an uncouth oaf lacking any social graces. But even Zhang had to admit Wong was efficient. Tasmania had been converted into the world's largest and most advanced detention facility. All prisoners were tagged with a GPS tracker and an identity microchip was inserted under their skin much like the type used for pets.
Wong had deliberately based his headquarters in the five star boutique hotel overlooking the landmark historic site of Port Arthur. Home to the ruins of Australia's first convict prison. Wong thought it wonderfully ironic. He did find it rather mundane though to be the Governor of a prison with so few prisoners. The population of Tasmania was less than ten percent of the prison population he had managed in Shanghai but that would all change in the coming months as more Australian's were evicted from their homes on the mainland.
The first Chinese settlers arrived by bus in the late afternoon. Chinese military police presented the proud new owners with the keys to their new Wollongong homes. Some settlers were luckier than others as some homes came with two, even three cars. The mood was festive and the military police happily obliged when asked to take pictures of the settlers posing at the front of their new homes to send back to relatives still in China. The relatives would be so jealous. Only twenty million Chinese families had won a place in the first ballot.
Wong waved for the Tasmanian Premier to take a seat in the plush arm chair in the hotel foyer. Wong used the expansive and luxuriously furnished foyer as his office. ‘Here is this month's inventory,’ Wong said handing the man a single sheet of A4 paper. The Premier stopped reading at the second line. His eyes bulged and the veins in his temple started to pulsate. ‘This is half the tonnage of food from last month.’
‘Correct,’ Wong said savouring the man's reaction.
‘There was an attack on my men in Davenport, nineteen soldiers were killed. This is your punishment.’
‘But people will starve. You keep bringing thousands of mainlanders here every day.’
‘That is your problem Premier. I suggest you apply some of that famous Australian hard yakka of yours and start encouraging more of your citizens to grow their own food. Don't expect China to feed you forever.’
Wong waved to his security detail who dragged the still protesting Premier away.
*****
A small Chinese fleet had blockaded Tasmania from the outside world. No Australian was allowed in or out unless they were granted a special pass by the Chinese border guards which could only be approved by Wong himself. Wong made sure the guards were handsomely paid to ensure no problems with bribery.
The Chinese plan was to eventually transfer the bulk of the Australian population of twenty-four million to Tasmania. There was more than enough land and resources to support them, although many would be living in tents until the Australian's got their act together and built more houses for themselves. Australians took their space for granted. They had no idea what high density living was like. Wong had grown up with his seven brothers and sisters in a one bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Beijing. Wong's father had been a supervisor at a concrete plant and most of his wage went towards paying the rent on the apartment. All so his family could have electricity and running water.
Wong still remembered the day his mother told him his father had been killed in an accident at the plant. He was sixteen. As the eldest child it fell to Wong to support his family. He joined the Chinese Army because it provided full food and
board which allowed him to send his entire pay back to his family. Wong moved up the ranks quickly. His fists did the talking and he made a name for himself as a brutally efficient NCO whose adherence to the rules was legendary. His reliability and animal cunning allowed him to secure an Army scholarship to attend Beijing University to obtain a bachelor's degree, a necessary qualification to become an Army Officer. He topped his class and graduated with first class honours in economics. As his career trajectory rose he was awarded a coveted position in at the Chinese embassy in London where he was able to complete his PhD at the London School of Economics. His thesis on the economics of mining in the Roman Empire brought him to the attention of a Chinese Admiral who ran the enormous network of China's prisons. A former alumni of the London School of Economics, the Admiral had greatly aided Wong's rise. He was slated as the Admiral's successor until he was given this prestigious command by no less than the Chinese President himself.
The Australians were so short sighted. They had as much land as China yet only occupied its coastal fringes. They claimed there was not enough water to support large populations in the interior of the continent.
Wong was friends with the three Star General overseeing the land reclamation and irrigation works taking place in remote Australia. His friend told him the Australian project was ten times less complex than those undertaken in the arid Western provinces of China. He actually described it as piece of cake. ‘My engineers will have a continuous fresh water supply from desalinisation plants capable of supporting fifteen million people within twelve months. Within three years we can support forty million Chinese families in areas the Australian's still think of as desert.’
Wong did not doubt his friend's confidence. He had seen the enormous hydroelectric dams and canals in the Western Provinces with his own eyes. Wong smiled as his butler passed him another cognac from the Hotel's well stocked bar. The plan to relocate two-hundred million Chinese to Australia over the next ten years was well on track.