by Mark Greaney
TITLES BY MARK GREANEY
THE GRAY MAN
ON TARGET
BALLISTIC
DEAD EYE
BACK BLAST
GUNMETAL GRAY
AGENT IN PLACE
MISSION CRITICAL
BERKLEY
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Copyright © 2019 by Mark Strode Greaney; Lt. Col. Hunter Ripley Rawlings
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Greaney, Mark, author. | Rawlings, Hunter Ripley, 1971– author.
Title: Red metal / Mark Greaney and Lieutenant Colonel Hunter Ripley Rawlings IV, USMC.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Berkley, 2019.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019007191| ISBN 9780451490414 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780451490438 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Imaginary wars and battles.
Classification: LCC PS3607.R4285 R43 2019 | DDC 813/.6--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019007191
First Edition: July 2019
Jacket art: photo of battle tank by Don Farrall/Getty Images; photo of Red Square: Kremlin Wall, Spasskaya (Savior) Tower, and Saint Basil’s Cathedral by Max Ryazanov/Getty Images
Jacket design by Steve Meditz
Map illustrations by Daniel Lagin
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To Erin for all her wonderful love and support as we take this next big step together (and for patching up me, and many other men, downrange)
—RIP
To all NATO forces past, present, and (let’s hope) forever
—MARK
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The authors gratefully acknowledge the hours of research, thought, and support from the valuable community of professionals and friends who helped make this book as accurate as possible. Any inaccuracies inevitably are the authors’ and not owing to those thanked here, as we use ample creative license throughout.
AIR FORCE
The whole team of the 66th training squadron at the United States Air Force Weapons School, Nellis AFB, for their support and help, specifically including: Maj. Edward “Nooner” Brady (A-10 instructor); Lt. Col. David “Chunx” Chadsey (Sqn. Comdr.); Lt. Col. Brian “Shfing” Erickson; Maj. Scott “Furball” Redmon—we will not forget our time at the Hog Trough . . . hangovers included; Maj. Travis “Fog” Ryan (USAF bombers expert and all-around GTG guy).
ARMY & MARINE CORPS
Lt. Gen. Lawrence Nicholson—for just being the best damn leader the Corps has seen in a long while, and Rip’s commander in Fallujah; Brigadegeneral Klaus Feldmann (General der Panzertruppen der Bundeswehr)—Vielen Dank, Sir, für die Erklärung des modernen Panzerkriegs; Col. Rick Angeli; Maj. Robert “Donnie” Barbaree (USMC Air & Ground advisor); Lt. Col. Owen “Nuts” Nucci (USMC aviation); Lt. Col. Ben Pappas (USMC); Captain Anonymous (USA, Apache pilot, who wishes to maintain her anonymity but gave us the goods to create Glitter).
NAVY
CDR Scott Boros (USN and all things Navy that fly); LCDR Luke Olinger (USN Silent Service and all things nuke propulsion and weapons); CDR Lee Ensley (USN, Ret.).
OTHERS
The men and women of Conference Group-3, Marine Corps University, Command and Staff College, for putting up with an old, broken infantryman; Dr. Doug Streusand, Rip’s partner in crime and a damn fine professor; the Rawlings and Felger families for their strength, love, and devotion; Capt. Josh Smith (USMC, Ret.); Lt. Col. Laurent Bonsept, French Special Forces; the Tellaria, Friedman, Hoang, Cerritelli, Dashtur/Haksar, and Westbrook families—loyal readers and friends; Joshua Hood; Scott Swanson; Mike Cowan; Taylor Gilliland; Brandy Brown; Igor Veksler; and Boniface Njoroge.
CONTENTS
Titles by Mark Greaney
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraphs
Characters
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 8
2
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Epilogue
About the Authors
Raids are operations to temporarily seize an area, usually through forcible entry, in order to secure information, confuse an enemy, capture personnel or equipment, or destroy an objective or capability.
—JOINT PUBLICATION 3-0; U.S. DOCTRINE FOR JOINT OPERATIONS, 27 JANUARY 2017, UPDATED 22 OCTOBER 2018
In the absence of orders, go find something and kill it.
—FIELD MARSHAL ERWIN ROMMEL
CHARACTERS
THE AMERICANS
COLONEL KEN CASTER (USMC)—Commander, Regimental Combat Team 5
LIEUTENANT DARNELL CHANDLER (U.S. ARMY)—Assistant maintenance officer, 37th Armored Regiment
LIEUTENANT COLONEL DAN CONNOLLY (USMC)—Infantry officer, assigned to the Pentagon; former commander of 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines; former platoon commander with 3/5
COMMANDER DIANA DELVECCHIO (U.S. NAVY)—Captain, USS John Warner (SSN-785)
LIEUTENANT SANDRA “GLITTER” GLISSON (U.S. ARMY)—Apache pilot
LIEUTENANT COLONEL TOM GRANT (U.S. ARMY)—Tank logistics and maintenance officer, 37th Armored Regiment, deployed to Grafenwöhr, Germany
MAJOR BOB GRIGGS (U.S. ARMY)—Infantry and Ranger officer; Army infantryman, Ranger tab; on assignment to the Joint Staff Office for Strategy, Plans & Policy (J5)
LIEUTENANT COLONEL ERIC MCHALE (USMC)—Operations officer, RCT-5
CAPTAIN BRAD SPILLANE (U.S. ARMY)—Interim operations officer, 37th Armored Regiment
CAPTAIN RAYMOND “SHANK” VANCE (USAF)—A-10 pilot
THE RUSSIANS
COLONEL YURI VLADIMIROVICH BORBIKOV—Russian Federation special forces commander
COLONEL DANILO DRYAGIN—Russian Federation infantry commander
CAPTAIN GEORG ETUSH—Submarine commander, Kazan (K-561)
COLONEL DMITRY KIR—Chief of staff and de facto chief of operations for Colonel General Boris Lazar
BORIS LAZAR—Russian Federation colonel general
ANATOLY RIVKIN—President of the Russian Federation
EDUARD SABANEYEV—Russian Federation colonel general
COLONEL FELIKS SMIRNOV—Deputy commanding officer to Colonel General Sabaneyev
COLONEL IVAN ZOLOTOV—Russian Air Force Su-57 pilot, Red Talon Squadron
OTHER CHARACTERS
CAPTAIN APOLLO ARC-BLANCHETTE—French special forces officer, 13th Parachute Dragoon Regiment
PASCAL ARC-BLANCHETTE—Officer in Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure (DGSE), the French foreign intelligence agency; Captain Apollo Arc-Blanchette’s father
CAPTAIN CHEN MIN JUN—Chinese special forces officer
DR. NIK MELANOPOLIS—Analyst, National Security Agency
MAJOR BLAZ OTT—German Bundeswehr armor maintenance officer
PAULINA TOBIASZ—Polish civilian militia member
PROLOGUE
AFGHANISTAN
THREE YEARS AGO
The radio crackled to life and Marine Lieutenant Colonel Dan Connolly snatched up the handset mounted on the dash of his Humvee. He wiped a heavy crust of southern Afghanistan dust off his mouth for the fifth time this morning, using a corner of his desert camouflage neck scarf, and he licked his dry lips.
A swirl of dust spun around the vehicle, seeping in through the top gunner’s hatch and between the nooks and crannies in the seams of the doorframes, which sagged because of the heavy appliqué blast armor. The vehicle’s position, at the center of a convoy of Humvees, ensured it was constantly engulfed in a nearly impenetrable cloud of sand and dirt.
Connolly pulled his canteen off his web belt, took a sip of warm water. Into the mic he said, “This is Betio Six. Send your traffic.”
A rushed and eager voice said, “Betio Six, this is Betio Main. Sir, flash, flash, flash! Report from the Deuce follows.”
It was barely ten o’clock in the morning and already the temps were in the nineties. Connolly wiped sweat from his eyes with one hand as he reached over and turned up the radio. The Deuce was the call sign of the battalion’s intelligence officer, and a flash report from him told the lieutenant colonel that this already sweltering Afghanistan morning was probably about to heat up even more.
Without pausing for acknowledgment, the radio operator in the battalion’s operation center said, “Someone in your vicinity has eyes on you. Deuce says attack on your convoy imminent.”
“Betio Main, Betio Six, acknowledged.”
Shit.
Connolly was commander of 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marine Regiment, and he didn’t have to be here right now. There was no operational reason for someone of his rank to go out on this mission to a neighboring town to speak with the mayor. Any of his company commanders, all captains, could have handled this themselves, but Connolly had wanted to see this town for himself because the reports he’d been getting were that the locals had begun working closely with the Taliban.
And now someone was watching his movements. He assumed the Deuce had decoded a radio intercept of insurgent chatter.
He clicked over the dial on the AN/PRC-119 radio and rekeyed the handset. “Lima Six, this is Betio Actual. Be advised: Stay tight and sharp. Betio Main just reported we’ve got someone with eyes on us, time now. Let’s do a security halt and see if we can get inside their loop.” This was Marine jargon, meaning Connolly hoped to do something the enemy wouldn’t expect to make them trip a potential ambush early.
Lima Six acknowledged the order, and the convoy began slowing to a halt.
An earsplitting boom rocked the road at the front of the convoy. Connolly was shaken in his seat, and even before he could look through the dust out the front windshield, he heard the sounds of multiple RPG rockets detonating and bursts of incoming machine-gun fire.
Connolly saw huge chunks of road flying through the air ahead of him, followed by a plume of flame and smoke. The debris came raining back down amid the small-arms fire, pounding his vehicle and adding to the soundtrack of the chaos.
The twelve vehicles immediately performed a “herringbone,” a well-practiced battle maneuver in which each vehicle pulled either left or right in alternating fashion. The turret gunners on each Humvee began firing their .50-cal machine guns in their sectors, churning the surrounding hills with heavy rounds.
“That sure as shit didn’t take long!” yelled Connolly’s driver over the heavy thump of the M2 Browning machine gun and the steady ringing of bullet brass and metal links dropping through the vehicle’s hatch above them.
Connolly turned to the radioman in the back. “Sergeant Bosse, grab your rifle and get out, my side! Let’s go!”
The radio operator didn’t need to be told twice. Sitting in a Humvee during a firefight was a sure way to get killed. The version the Marines rolled in today was heavily armored, but a well-placed RPG could destroy the vehicle and everyone in it—and, with the firepower pouring out of the turrets, each Humvee would be an RPG magnet.
Before he could bail, Connolly heard another transmission on the radio affixed to the dash. “Six, this is Echo Six Papa.” It was Lima Company’s First Sergeant Perez, one of the battalion’s most competent enlisted leaders, sounding as calm and confident as ever. “Lima Six’s vic is down,” he said. “They gotta be shaken, but I see his gunner returning fire, so I think they’re good to go. He’s on the platoon radio tactical net right now giving orders to attack.”
The improvised explosive device was usually fabricated from several hundred pounds of iron or steel scrap, surrounding dried ammonium nitrate mixed with fuel oil. The Taliban buried these devices in the middle of the road, often using battery acid to melt pavement, then planting the weapon and covering it with dirt. The Taliban fighters liked to initiate their IEDs, launch a few rocket-p
ropelled grenades, hammer the area with machine guns, and then leave in the confusion.
Connolly knelt outside his vehicle, his rifle at his shoulder held with one hand while he clutched the radio handset with his other. “Copy, Echo Six Papa. I’m coming to your position. Let Lima Six know he’s got this fight.” He tossed the handset back in the Humvee and put both hands on his rifle.
Sergeant Bosse’s heavy body armor slowed down his escape, as he had to cross over from his side of the vehicle and between the machine gunner’s feet, but he tumbled out of the Humvee seconds later.
“Bosse, get the damn radio!” Connolly shouted, pointing back into the vehicle at the PRC-119. The young Marine had grabbed his carbine but forgotten his primary weapon, the battalion commander’s portable radio.
The radioman clambered back inside as incoming AK fire raked the armor on the opposite side of the Humvee. As he stumbled back out, radio in hand, he and his lieutenant colonel were joined by the sergeant major, and the three Marines set off down the length of the convoy at a crouched run while 7.62mm rounds whizzed overhead.
All the Humvees’ turrets had pivoted their M2 .50-cal machine guns to the left side toward the attack, and they crackled off a near-constant volley of fire. As Connolly ran along, he saw the air officer firing his M4 over the hood of one of the vehicles. Connolly grabbed him by his load-bearing vest and pulled him along, knowing he might well need him.
M2 tracers pounded the hillside to the north of the column. Some of it was aimed fire, blasted at points where the gunners saw enemy positions, but other shooters were simply hosing the hills, because they were, after all, Marine Corps machine gunners, and even if they couldn’t see their targets, they loved an opportunity to fire their weapons in anger.
And so far it was paying off. The Marines’ heavy barrage of outgoing lead established immediate fire dominance and forced the enemy to take cover behind rocky outcroppings. Connolly knew that if he could just press this attack, he could get the Taliban retreating, caught out in the open on the far side of the hills.