Battlefield China

by James Rosone

“Mustang Four, this is Warrior Two. We’re unable to find a way around this village. Recommend following close behind us as we look to navigate a clear path through the village. We’d sure like some support as we move in. How copy?” asked a very nervous lieutenant on the other end.

  Diss snickered before he replied; he knew exactly what the young officer wanted. He wanted him to lead his tanks into the village hot on their heels, in case they ran into trouble. He didn’t blame the guy—who wouldn’t want a 62-ton tank or a 27-ton Bradley fighting vehicle for backup?

  Depressing his talk button, Diss replied, “Warrior Two, that’s a good copy. Stand by at the edge of the village while I position a couple of Bradleys to take point.”

  He then switched over to his company radio and ordered two of his infantry Bradleys to move forward and saddle up with the scout cars. His tanks and remaining Bradleys would follow behind them as they moved through the village.

  Standing in the commander’s hatch, Diss made sure the Ma Deuce machine gun was ready for action. He saw the other tank commanders popping out of their commander’s hatches, doing the same. Then the gunner’s hatch opened, and Sergeant Cortez popped up and unlocked the other turret-mounted machine gun, the M240.

  Slowly, the scout cars started to advance with the two Bradley fighting vehicles maybe ten meters behind them. The infantry soldiers in the vehicles chose to stay buttoned up inside until a threat materialized that required them to leave their secured cocoons. The armored column made it four blocks deep into the small village before all hell broke loose.

  Swoosh...BOOM.

  Ratatat, ratatat, zip, zip, zap, crack, BAM.

  In dozens of nearby windows, machine-gun crews sprang into action. Then, on the roofs of many of the three-to-six-story buildings, dozens of enemy soldiers wielding RPGs and Molotov cocktails materialized. The wicks on the flaming concoctions were already lit, and they hurled them speedily through the air.

  “Ah hell, here it comes,” Diss said aloud to no one in particular. He swiveled his M2 toward the roof top of a building and started aiming for soldiers carrying RPGs.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang.

  The roar of his 50-cal. added to the overwhelming racket assaulting his every sense. He quickly saw the first set of enemy soldiers explode into a cloud of red mist as his projectiles cleared the rooftop of enemy threats.

  BOOM.

  The lead scout car suddenly exploded as two RPGs slammed into it from opposite sides of the street. The other scout vehicle right behind him pushed the burning wreck aside as they pressed forward to get them out of the village. They only had another four blocks to travel and they’d be out of the urban area and back in a flat open field.

  “To the right!” shouted Cortez.

  A swarm of enemy soldiers rushed out of a nearby building, running right for the Bradley in front of them. The soldiers inside the vehicle began shooting out of the gun slits as fast as they could at the mob rushing them. Then a massive explosion rocked the vehicle, obliterating all the attackers in one torn and bloody mess. When the dust settled, the Bradley had been blown to the side and its right track had been completely torn apart. The vehicle was dead in the water and immobile right in the center of the road.

  The Bradley’s back hatch opened and the soldiers inside tumbled out, stunned and disoriented from the blast that had rocked their vehicle. A couple of the soldiers got cut down by a hail of enemy bullets before the others snapped out of it and took cover behind several vehicles parked on the side of the road.

  “We’ve got to get out of here, Captain!” shouted Cortez. He fired a long burst of gun fire at several soldiers along the roof of another building.

  Depressing the talk button, Diss called out to his vehicle driver, “Keep moving forward! Push the Bradley out of the way and crush those cars on the right side of the street if you have to, but keep us moving.”

  The tank lurched forward as the driver moved to get them out of the kill zone. Several of the dismounted infantrymen saw what they were trying to do and got out of the way as Diss’s tank crept up to the right rear side of their disabled vehicle and pushed it to the side of the road. Meanwhile, bullets bounced off the tank’s armor and whizzed all around Cortez and Diss, who did their best to provide covering fire for the infantrymen and keep the enemy RPG teams from disabling any more of their tanks.

  The other Bradleys in their column dismounted their infantry soldiers as well, and the whole scene became a chaotic cluster mess. The gunners in the tanks tried their best to use their heavy machine guns to tear into the enemy soldiers as best they could.

  “If we don’t get the column moving through this kill zone soon, we’ll all end up dead,” thought Captain Diss.

  In the span of a couple of minutes, they managed to push the disabled vehicle off to the side and were once again on the move. The driver moved them quickly toward the right side of the road, rolling over several smaller vehicles parked on the side of the road, crushing them under the weight of their tank as the tracks tore the metal and plastic composite molding of the car apart.

  They moved another two more blocks, past the first ambush, meeting little enemy resistance as their infantrymen did a good job of shooting any enemy soldiers they saw. Then out of nowhere, a Type-99 tank drove out of one of the alleyways with its turret already turned to meet the American tank. Before Captain Diss or anyone in his tank could react, the Chinese tank fired its 125mm cannon at near point-blank range into the side of their tank.

  In the blink of an eye, Captain Diss’s mind registered his body being catapulted out of the turret and into the air, floating effortlessly for the briefest of moments before gravity took over and his body tumbled to the ground, landing in a heap. As he lay there on the sidewalk, his mind tried to compute what had just happened. The more he tried to focus, the foggier things became, until everything just went black.

  Chapter 27

  Endgame

  Beijing, China

  August First Building

  Ministry of National Defense HQ

  General Yang Yin placed his notepad in the leather briefcase he planned on bringing with him. His suitcase had already been packed by one of his assistants. Several uniforms, a couple sets of casual clothes, his workout clothes and running shoes comprised the bulk of what he was bringing with him for this short trip. He had hoped to get the Allies to agree to a seven-day ceasefire while they negotiated an acceptable end to the war, but sadly, he had only been able to obtain a three-day cessation in the fighting.

  “Perhaps the Allies know I’m just stalling to buy my country more time,” he thought.

  A major walked into his office. “Sir, your vehicle is ready to take you to the airport,” he announced.

  Yang nodded, not saying anything more as he grabbed his briefcase. He followed the young man out of the office to the elevator that would lead them to the garage and the waiting car. Walking through the command center, General Yang still marveled at how they had managed to stay alive in this building for so long, considering how many times the Allies had bombed it. Thus far, none of the bunker-buster bombs had made their way to his command center.

  “Perhaps the Allies haven’t figured out where the bunker is in relation to the building above it,” he thought.

  Many of the officers gave him a curt nod as he passed, knowing he was on his way to speak with the Americans. They hoped he’d be able to find some way to end the war without their nation having to endure a prolonged global humiliation or occupation like the Russian Federation had had to accept.

  When the elevator arrived at the parking garage level, several additional armed security guards were waiting to meet General Yang. They quickly gestured for him to walk toward another blacked-out vehicle nearby, where a guard opened the rear door and President Xi got out.

  Yang smiled at the sight of the President but inwardly felt a pang of fear that his presence might mean something ominous.

  Xi quickly grinned, softening his demeanor as he ext
ended his hand to the general, guiding the two of them closer to the wall of the parking lot, away from prying ears, even those of his security detail and especially the general’s men.

  Leaning in close, Xi said, “Yang, it’s important that you secure an end to this war.”

  Yang looked at him with a bit of surprise. Up to this point, Xi had been adamant that he try to buy more time, find a way to prolong the war until after the American presidential election, when a more amenable government would hopefully come to power. What could have changed that calculus since their last meeting?

  Responding in an equally hushed tone, Yang asked, “What if the Allies demand that you step down as the leader of China? What am I to say to those terms?”

  Xi had clearly thought about that question. “I will not step down if the Allies plan to replace me with that woman, President Hung Hui-ju. She’s an apostate to our form of government and will ruin everything our country has pursued up to this point. No, she would be a puppet of the West. If I have to step down as President, then the People’s Republic of China will select a new leader through our governmental processes.”

  Yang nodded. This was a much better outcome than what they had originally discussed a couple of days ago, when Xi had outlined the parameters of what the PRC would accept to end the war. Still, he pressed the President for more clarity.

  “If the Allies don’t agree to this option, then how far can I push them? How far are you still willing to push this war?”

  Xi thought about that for a second. “You’ve made the case about further use of nuclear weapons. I agree it would be pointless to try and use them, considering we would still lose. However, if the Allies are not willing to see reason, then tell them that we will continue to arm our populace, that we will encourage and foment a never-ending insurgency across China even after they have defeated our armed forces. Also, let them know that we will look to use every cyber capability we have to turn the lights out in America. If they won’t see reason, then we will try to send them back to the Dark Ages.” There was ice and fire in his eyes as he spoke.

  Yang saw Xi’s sincerity. If he was going to have to give up his dream of being the supreme leader of the PRC, the man who would lead the world into the 21st century of Chinese Greatness, then he would have a say in who would take his place, or he would do his best to burn the world to the ground.

  Yang nodded, then clasped Xi’s hand as he whispered, “I will do my best, Mr. President. I must be going.”

  The two parted ways.

  *******

  Above Kathmandu, Nepal

  As General Yang flew over the Himalayan Mountains, he thought to himself that this was something everyone should get to experience at least once in their lifetime. The expanse of the mountain ranges, many covered with snow, was a surreal scene to take in. Up here, flying over the mountains had given Yang some time to just pause and think, away from all the decisions and pressures of his new position.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought back to his time growing up in America. He had grown up living the American dream. Albeit, his father was a wealthy Chinese businessman, but he still went to the malls, movie theaters, beaches, and theme parks many Americans grew up going to. During his time at the Citadel, he had formed some great friendships. He thought about some of those old friends more and more these days, wondering how many of them were currently fighting against his country.

  Yang had lost contact with many of them over the years as he’d moved further up the military ranks. It was frowned upon to stay in touch with US military officers once the Americans had taken a more adversarial relationship with China in the mid-2000s. Still, he wondered how some of his old friends were doing. Thinking back to those times at the Citadel made him question what he was doing on this trip, especially after Xi’s last-minute conversation with him. Was Xi testing him? Would he really accept peace terms if it meant he had to surrender control of the government? Would the Americans even entertain such an idea? From everything he remembered of his training at the Citadel, the Americans would not willingly accept anything less than complete surrender from a foe they felt they could defeat.

  In school, he had studied the terms of surrender presented to the Germans and the Japanese by the Allies; during that war, the Americans had been willing to wipe out those countries’ entire populations to achieve victory if they had to. The Americans had had several more atomic bombs sent to the Pacific, ready for use when the Japanese emperor had overruled his military leaders and announced the country’s surrender.

  Sighing, General Yang opened his eyes and took another drink of his tea. They were nearly to Kathmandu—he’d need to collect his thoughts and begin to focus on the task at hand: obtaining an end to the war.

  *******

  After nearly nine hours flying in a plane, General Yang’s back was stiff and sore.

  As soon as he landed at the international airport, his advance party was there to meet him. They whisked him away to the secretive location where the peace talks would be held. Because of the nature of these negotiations, the number of staff members involved had been kept to a bare minimum. Neither party wanted protests to form or for any threat to develop that might threaten the talks.

  *******

  Kathmandu, Nepal

  Hotel Yak & Yeti

  Secretary of Defense Jim Castle, General John Bennet, and Secretary of State Landover sat in one of the executive suites of the hotel they had turned into their temporary operations center. The furniture and bed had been moved out of the room to accommodate the collection of computer monitors, communications equipment, and other odds and ends the senior officials needed to run the war and communicate back to the Pentagon and White House. A handful of Defense Intelligence Agency, CIA, and NSA personnel were also present, representing their own organizations and bringing to bear any capabilities Castle, Bennet, and Landover might need for this all-important meeting.

  The three men were in the middle of reviewing the latest battle reports when a major general walked into the room. He snapped to attention before announcing himself. “Sirs, Major General Larry Breedlove reporting as ordered.”

  General Bennet looked up at the general and waved off his salute. “Take a seat,” he said. Then he picked up the man’s personnel file while Secretary Castle looked him over.

  “You know why you’ve been asked to join us in Nepal?” asked Castle with a blank look on his face.

  Breedlove shook his head nervously. “No, Sir. I had no idea any of you would even be in Nepal,” he answered.

  Bennet saw the confused look on the man’s face and did his best not to smile. Two days ago, General Breedlove had been commanding a division in Shanghai, and now, through a series of cloak and dagger exchanges, he found himself whisked away to a secretive meeting in Nepal.

  “I might be a bit disoriented too,” Bennet thought in amusement.

  Keeping a straight face, General Bennet asked, “You graduated from the Citadel, correct?”

  Although they all obviously knew the answer, all three men stared at Breedlove, waiting for his response.

  “Yes, Sir, I did. I believe you have my military file in front of you. It also lists when I was there and what military schools I’ve completed since then.”

  Nodding, Bennet continued, “You were roommates with a foreign student by the name of Yang Yin, correct?”

  They all leaned forward. Breedlove shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I was,” he admitted. “Is that a problem?”

  Secretary Landover probed, “What are your thoughts on the man? Do you know how he felt about America and his ancestral home?”

  General Breedlove sat back in his chair. His eyes shifted up and to the left as he seemed to transport himself to a college dorm room twenty years ago. “I knew Yin to be a very capable cadet. He excelled at everything at the academy. I was actually very surprised when he turned down a commission in the Army to return to China. However, I also knew his father was a very wealthy busin
essman from China, and his family was only living in America while his father’s business worked through some corporate acquisitions. I must say though, I haven’t talked to Yin in more than ten years. His opinions of America have probably changed a lot over the years.”

  “Do you know why all of us are here, in Nepal?” asked Castle.

  Breedlove shook his head.

  “The Chinese have asked to discuss potential terms to end the war,” Secretary Landover explained.

  Bennet added, “And the reason you’re here, General Breedlove, is because your former Citadel roommate, Yang Yin, is the new head of the People’s Liberation Army and the man flying here to discuss that with us. We’ve asked you here because we’d like any insight we can get that might help us end this war—anything from what he’s like, to his character, to possible tactics we might be able to use against him to convince him to agree to a termination of the conflict.”

  General Breedlove let out a deep breath. “I’ll do what I can to help. What more would you like to know about him?”

  The group talked for several more hours about Yang Yin. By the end of the conversation, they knew everything about the man they could, from what kind of music he appreciated to what his family was like. In negotiations this important, even the PLA general’s favorite American foods could turn out to be important.

  *******

  Following Day

  Major General Breedlove examined the room. All appeared to be in order. The table for the meeting had been set, with little American flags adorning the place settings of each of the principal American negotiators, and small Chinese flags sitting along the opposite side. At the opposing heads of the table were seats designated for the American and Chinese notetakers, who would transcribe the talks. Along the ornate walls, additional chairs had been placed for staff members.

  Security was tight. A contingent of neutral Nepalese Gurkha soldiers had been assigned to secure the room, and both the Americans and the Chinese had a contingent of their own agents to ensure a peaceful negotiation took place.