Invasion: California

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Invasion: California Page 31

by Vaughn Heppner


  “Oh-oh,” Jose said.

  “What’s wrong?” Stan hated to hear those words.

  Jose pointed with the long neck of his beer bottle. “Here comes the Colonel. I wonder what we did wrong this time.”

  Stan craned his neck, twisting around. Sure enough, Colonel Wilson headed straight for them with his long stride. The man’s uniform was perfect as always. Dust, sand, grime, oil, it didn’t matter. He was immaculate. Stan and Wilson had been staying out of each other’s way. Stan preferred it that way, but he knew it couldn’t last.

  Putting the lip of the bottle to his mouth, Stan took a long swallow. He was dog-tired. They all were. Too much rested on their giant tanks. For once, America had the superior equipment. The trouble was there were only a handful of Behemoths to go around. Truthfully, they needed about two or three hundred, not the meager fifteen.

  “Here we go,” Stan whispered. He put the bottle on the card table and stood up.

  “Don’t take any of his crap,” Jose said.

  Stan shook his head. “We’re all on the same side. Despite what we feel, you and I need to show him respect.”

  “Why? He never shows us respect.”

  “Look around you, my friend. The why is very easy to answer. We’re America’s last hope and we have to stand together.”

  “Why don’t you tell him that?”

  “Maybe I will,” Stan said. He waited, and he turned to face the Colonel.

  Wilson walked up briskly, and said, “I need to talk to you.”

  “Would you like to sit down, sir? Jose, are there any more beers?”

  Wilson shook his head. “No. I don’t drink.”

  Stan kept a grimace off his face. He should have known.

  “I’d like to speak with you alone, Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wilson stood there for a moment. It seemed he didn’t know what to do. He glanced at the little barking dog behind the picket fence. He shook his head and then pointed down the opposite street.

  “That way, if you please,” the Colonel said.

  Stan frowned. This wasn’t like the man. Usually, he just rapped out what he wanted to say and left, or he sent Stan on his way. What was this about?

  Stan followed Wilson. They walked in silence, passing an odd mixture of perfect homes and others shredded from Chinese bombs. Suddenly, the Colonel spun around and he glared at Stan.

  “We’ve had our differences,” Wilson blurted.

  “Yes, sir, I’d say that’s true.”

  “Damnit, soldier, I don’t want—” Wilson cut himself off and glared at the street.

  Stan raised an eyebrow.

  Wilson looked back up. “I’ve spoken with General Larson. We’re going to lead the assault all the way down to Escondido if we have to.”

  “We, sir?”

  “The Behemoth tanks, man. Surely, you must know what I’m talking about.”

  Stan shook his head.

  Wilson glared at him, and he seemed to become angrier the longer he looked at Stan. At last, in seeming exasperation, the Colonel threw his hands into the air.

  “I can’t do it,” Wilson said.

  “What is that, sir?”

  “You’re making this too difficult for me.”

  “Colonel, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Wilson blew out his cheeks, turned around, took three steps away and then spun back to face Stan. “You’re a Medal of Honor recipient.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve faced the Chinese before and you’ve beaten them.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly what happened, sir. What I did—”

  “You outsmarted them.”

  “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

  “Captain, what General Larson is demanding—no, this doesn’t originate with him. It’s from much higher up the chain of command. In any case, using our Behemoths to lead the assault down to Escondido is the wrong way to use our tanks. They’re good at long-ranged combat. The force cannons, it’s their specialty picking off the enemy before they’re anywhere near the range of their weapons.”

  “I agree with you.”

  “Now we’re supposed to lead the charge into rugged terrain, to try to break through to our trapped Army Group.” Wilson shook his head. “It’s suicide for us and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Meaning what exactly, sir? I’m not sure I follow you.”

  “You’re a bastard, Captain Higgins. I’m trying to apologize to you, damnit.”

  Stan blinked in wonderment. “Apologize to me, sir?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “Yes, you did, sir.” I never expected this.

  “You’re the combat expert among us. There’s never been any doubt about that.”

  “Ah…you’re a wizard on the technical aspect of the tanks, sir.”

  “That’s not what we’re talking about here. Captain, the Chinese are beating us. Look at what happened up north in Santa Cruz. We used nukes in an attempt to balance the situation. We actually annihilated one of our own cities. It’s unimaginable.”

  “The Chinese used electromagnetic pulse missiles on us, sir. I’d say we’re striking them back tit-for-tat.”

  Wilson shook his head. “None of that matters to us here. I need a tactical solution that will save our tanks and give the chain of command what it’s asking from us. I don’t like you, Captain. But I can’t worry about that anymore. The Chinese have invaded our country. I don’t always get the choice of who stands beside me. Well, you stood against them before and beat them. I would be a fool to waste that asset in my command. I want your battle cunning, Higgins. More than that, your country needs your brilliance and insight once more. Will you help me?”

  Stan turned away. “I don’t know that I have anything particularly brilliant to add, sir.”

  “Then you’d better start thinking. You’d better give me a tactical solution to using our Behemoths in rugged terrain and in an urban environment. We have a day to prepare. Time is running out. Army Group SoCal is dying on the vine. They no longer have the power to dig out of their encirclement.”

  “You’re right, sir.”

  “Use the historical acumen stored in that undisciplined brain of yours. Give me something to work with.”

  Stan faced the Colonel. “I’ll try my best, sir.”

  “No, Captain Higgins. I don’t care anything about trying. I want success.”

  Stan nodded. He could live by that philosophy.

  “Do we understand one another?” Wilson asked.

  “We do, sir, and thank you.”

  Wilson nodded the barest fraction. “That will be all, Captain. Carry on.”

  Stan turned around and headed back for the Behemoth, his mind awhirl with ideas.

  SAN YSIDRO, CALIFORNIA

  Marshal Nung buttoned his uniform. He had new brass buttons, bigger than normal. It took a good shove with his thumb to force them through the cloth slots. This was the best he’d felt since the unfortunate mixture of tranks and amphetamines.

  He stood before a mirror, studying his features. He didn’t like the splotches on his face, as they told their own story. A man like Kao would have probably used makeup to hide the discolorations, but he wasn’t Kao. He would face life with his warts and all, and he would conquer by superior willpower and aggressiveness. An army was only as good as its commander. It was an old lesson of war. His army was winning, although a tally sheet of casualties might not show it right now.

  There was a knock on the door and an aide popped his head inside. “The conference starts in two minutes, sir.”

  “I’ll be there,” Nung said.

  The aide disappeared as the door closed.

  Chairman Jian Hong—the Leader—wished to speak with him, together with Marshal Kao of the Ruling Committee. It was going to be a three-way conference call. The nuclear assault in Santa Cruz had shaken the Ruling Committee. It was the Navy’s fault. Anyone with half a str
ategical brain could see that. The Navy had badly erred there and reaped a bitter rebuke from the enemy. Correction: the Naval Commander had made a gross error and he had paid a grim penalty. The trouble was that Admiral Ling had also made China pay.

  Nung spun on his heel. Dizziness occurred and he lowered his head, taking several calming breaths. When the dizziness passed, he marched for the door, strode down the hall and came to the comm-room.

  This was an advance outpost and more communications equipment was on its way. Nung planned to turn this into his new, First Front Headquarters.

  “There’s bottled water and food behind you, sir.”

  Nung nodded in acknowledgement as he sat down before the screen. An aide handed him his military cap. Nung put it on and the aide adjusted it.

  “Seven seconds, sir.”

  Nung stared at the screen. What did the Leader want to tell him in the presence of Marshal Kao? It wouldn’t be anything good, of that he had no doubt. He didn’t have long to wait to find out.

  The screen came alive and Nung found himself looking at the Leader on the left of a split-screen and Marshal Kao on the right. Jian Hong was puffy-faced with bags under his eyes. It indicated worry. Aesthetic Marshal Kao had a pinched look, which could mean many different things.

  “Gentleman,” the Leader said. “It is good of you to meet with me. You are well, Marshal Nung?”

  There was more to the question, Nung was certain. Yes, he noticed the tiny twitch of eye movement in Kao, as if the man yearned to speak up.

  “I am tired in a good sense,” Nung said, “tired like a worker hard at his task but brimming with the energy to complete the work he has begun.”

  “There you are, Marshal.” The Leader appeared to address the words to Kao.

  Nung decided it would be wisest to let the matter drop. “And you two gentlemen are doing well, I hope?”

  “Yes,” Kao said.

  The Leader frowned. “I must admit to a sense of unease. Predictions were made in my presence and yet reality has shown me a different face. I continue to attempt to reconcile the two.”

  “Leader, if I may interject a point,” Kao said.

  “Before you do, I would like Marshal Nung to understand the nature of the conference call. Marshal,” the Leader told Nung. “The battle in California was supposed to be a swift affair, which would allow us to gobble up a profitable state and strengthen our overall strategic position versus the Americans.”

  “Leader,” Nung said, “that is exactly what is occurring even as we speak.”

  “Respectfully,” Kao said, “I would beg to differ with your assessment.”

  “You are free to do so,” Nung said. “But I would like to point out that we are on the verge of a climatic victory.”

  “You’re speaking about the capture of California?” the Leader asked.

  “The state will fall to us like dominos,” Nung said. “The first piece that will begin the process is the American Army Group of an original six hundred thousand soldiers. We have cut them off from Los Angeles and have begun devouring this Army Group so it is already smaller and vastly weaker than on the opening day of war.”

  “You have told me this before,” the Leader said. “Yet we have not even captured any of the outlying suburbs of Los Angeles. To have truly encircled the Americans, your tanks were supposed to have driven through Palm Springs, captured Los Angeles and sealed everyone from the Grapevine Pass.”

  “Little is certain in war, Leader,” Nung said. “The Americans surprised us with their giant tanks. Yet I have used the Tank Army that would have captured Los Angeles and whittled away more of the trapped Army Group. It is only a matter of days now before the entire enemy Army Group ceases to exist as a military obstacle.”

  “You have fought a fierce campaign,” Kao said. “No one can drive soldiers to battle like you. Yet I would be remiss if I did not point out that the Americans are reinforcing the state in greater numbers than you had anticipated. In the end, if you destroy Army Group SoCal but the Americans place greater numbers of soldiers there, you will have failed to capture California.”

  “Allow me to disagree with your assessment in an important particular,” Nung said. “The Americans have entrained some reinforcements. I predicted they would do as much. Nevertheless, they have not sent anything approaching an entire new Army Group. Perhaps they would if we gave them the time. Once I capture Los Angeles, I will use my White Tigers to seal the Sierra Nevada passes.” Nung cleared his throat. “Leader, Marshal Kao, I understand your concerns. War is a messy business with its difficulties. The incident in the north, in Santa Cruz—”

  “It was more than an incident,” the Leader said heatedly. “The Americans used nuclear weapons against Chinese troops. We must retaliate or they will think they can do such a thing again with impunity. This cannot stand.”

  “You have a valid point, sir,” Nung said.

  Kao’s eyes widened, probably in surprise.

  Nung chuckled inwardly. It was Chinese military doctrine to stay well away from nuclear weapons. The Americans had just shown that there was a time and place to use them. A wise commander would consider the ramifications of the nuclear assault with care.

  “Go on,” the Leader said.

  “If it comes down to it, sir,” Nung said, “I suggest we use nuclear weapons to render the Sierra Nevada passes unusable.”

  “Our ICBMs would never make it past the American strategic lasers,” Kao said sharply.

  “I agree,” Nung said. “That is why I believe White Tiger Commandos would need to carry the nuclear weapons with them. They would set the weapons like gigantic mines in the passes, ready to explode at the best possible opportunity.”

  The Leader’s eyes shone as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I like it. We will pay them back in the same coin they have paid us. When they move mass troops through the passes, we annihilate them.”

  “Exactly, Leader,” Nung said.

  “We do not want to start a nuclear holocaust,” Kao said. “I think we should reconsider this idea.”

  “Bah!” the Leader said. “We’re starting nothing. The Americans used the nuclear weapons first. They have always used them first, and they signed an accord with us saying they would never use them. Now it is time to teach the Americans a lesson. They cannot continue to use such weapons against the Asian peoples. I will not stand for it.”

  “We will use them in accord with my strategy of a swift assault,” Nung said.

  “Leader,” Kao said, “could we address the central issue?”

  Jian Hong became thoughtful, with his eyes half-lidded. “Proceed as you wish, but I expect you will find that Marshal Nung has an excellent explanation for what occurs.”

  “Nung is a gifted speaker,” Kao said. “He has also proven to be an excellent commander of small formations. The Siberian and Alaskan Wars show that. The current bloodbath seems to be something altogether different.”

  “You intrigue me,” Nung told Kao. “Please, let me hear your concerns.”

  “In a nutshell,” Kao said, “China has lost far too many soldiers these past weeks for the present gains.”

  Nung bowed his head, and this time his eyes were bright as he began to speak. “If the war stopped this instant, I would agree with you. My operational method is simple and therefore elegant. Speed is its essence. That does not necessarily mean speed along the highway. I have increased the tempo of battle in California by attacking night and day, by rotating formations and never giving the Americans a rest. It also means headlong attack at times and those attacks are in an urban environment, often considered the worst place for swift advances. That means heavy losses at times among our soldiers. I have tried to ensure that those losses are sustained primarily by penal units and the special infantry.”

  “That has not always been the case,” Kao said.

  “You are correct. We have sustained heavy losses, both in men and materiel. What I have done is bring the Americans to the brink of defeat. Once
the remnant of Army Group SoCal enters the prison camps, California and the entire West Coast will be plucked like a ripe peach. We will not rest, but endlessly assault the enemy until he collapses from exhaustion.”

  “What if we collapse first?” Kao asked.

  “No. We are the greater power, have better soldiers and the superior technology.”

  “The American Behemoth tanks are proof of this, yes?” Kao asked.

  “The nuclear strike in Santa Cruz is proof of this,” Nung said. “The Americans had to resort to it because they lacked enough soldiers. It is clear they are exhausted. Several more headlong assaults—”

  “I would like to point out that we have not merely sustained heavy losses, but debilitating losses,” Kao said. “You need to use a more methodical approach now. In a vast urban and mountainous environment, you must proceed with a siege mentality instead of trying to press as if you’re a tank commander on the steppes of Siberia.”

  They always return to that, don’t they? They are envious of my past feats. Nung smiled grimly. “Forgive me, please, Marshal Kao, but I come to a different conclusion. Now is the moment to reap the rewards of our continuous attack. It is a sin to give up at the goal line. That is where we are, and you must have the courage to finish what we started.”

  “Yes!” the Leader said. “Finish this fight, Marshal Nung. Defeat the Americans as quickly as you can. I do not want any more Santa Cruzes. We must capture Los Angeles and then California. Then you must rest your troops as we shift the focus to Texas and New Mexico and mass supplies there for the second strike.”

  Nung bowed his head. He had won again, even though it was obvious that Kao intrigued against him. But the Leader was wrong in a critical area. He would not stop with California’s capture. He wanted the entire West Coast.

  As long as I’m commanding the First Front, we will attack until victory is mine.

  “Do you have anything else to add, Marshal Kao?” the Leader asked.

 

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