The Chinese, Bangor Naval Base, WA, 0830 PDT
Captain Zhu Jing didn’t like how things had changed. The Americans had gotten an anti-armor capability from somewhere, and it had changed the battle. It wouldn’t make enough difference in the end for, as he watched, the seventh IFV was loaded with a weapon. They had what they came for, and it was time to leave. That was a good thing, too, because he was almost out of ammunition for the main gun. The only problem with a 125mm gun, he thought, was the size of the shell. Much larger than its predecessors, the Type 99 tank could only carry 22 rounds for its main gun and he only had two shells remaining.
This was going to be tricky, for leaving meant getting even closer to the Americans’ guns, as well as possibly giving them shots at his more vulnerable sides and rear. His tank had already been hit twice, but they had bounced off his frontal armor, failing to penetrate. He didn’t want to try his luck for a third time, especially on the sides or rear. Still, he was a sitting duck in the field and almost out of ammunition; it was time to go.
With a radio signal, the armored vehicles leapt into motion. Captain Zhu drove his tank straight ahead, with the other two operational tanks charging around and forward to form a wedge formation with him, one on each side and about halfway behind him. The IFVs surged forward in their wakes, with the weapon-laden ones in the middle. The unladen ones were on the outside; they were expendable if he could complete the mission. He realized he was also going to have to leave a lot of his troops behind, but they were also expendable. If they made it back to their vans, good, but he wasn’t waiting for them. He saw one of the recoilless rifle teams in front of him, aiming at his tank. He fired his machine gun at them, which, although it missed, appeared to distract them. The American’s shot went wide and missed him, too. His driver aimed for the team and drove over them; at least one of the men went under his treads.
He realized he was now past the Americans, although he had lost both of the other tanks. Looking back, he saw he still had at least half of his IFVs. Now he just needed to get them back to the base.
The Americans, Bangor Naval Base, WA, 0830 PDT
Calvin swore as the round aimed at the lead tank went wide. That had to be the luckiest bastard in the world. He had already seen one round bounce off the front of that tank. He turned away, disgusted, as the tank ran over his crew. Its right tread went over the gunner; he knew that both the gunner and the recoilless rifle would be total losses. The lead tank was probably going to make it now. It had forced a way out of their containment ring, but as he watched, the two tanks that were accompanying it took hits from the other two recoilless rifles he still had left. Both were knocked out, burning. That left only IFVs for the RPGs, and all three of them scored hits as the vehicles came within 50 yards of the launchers.
As their armor roared to life and leapt ahead, most of the Chinese soldiers were left to run behind them in the dust. Seeing their first opportunity all day, the rest of the 7th Infantry rose as one, yelling battle cries, and charged. Finally, their rifles made a difference, and the only problem they had was shooting too high and hitting their comrades on the other side of the Chinese forces. The vehicles escaped, but the ring closed back down on the troops. It was a slaughter on both sides as quarter was neither asked for, nor given. Ultimately, the American numbers and their ferocity carried the day, and the remaining 37 Chinese troops threw down their rifles and put up their hands. Only one or two more were shot after surrendering before the colonel could rein them in.
Seeing the Chinese escaping, the recoilless rifle teams had gone to their maximum rate of fire. The gun could maintain a sustained rate of one round per minute. It could also fire one round about every six seconds at its maximum rate of fire, but it could only fire five rounds this way because of the excess heat that was generated inside the gun. One of the remaining gunners fired five rounds then stopped; the other fired seven. On the seventh, the barrel deformed due to the extreme heat and, when the gunner fired, the round wedged in the barrel. The rifle was torn from his hands as the round’s exhaust wasn’t balanced by its exit from the gun. The gunner suffered a broken wrist and a concussion; the rifle was destroyed. Ryan and Calvin counted; seven IFVs and the tank had gotten away.
“If you have anyone that can drive an IFV, send them on the road toward Tacoma,” Calvin said to Colonel Williamson. Turning to his platoon, Calvin yelled, “Rangers, back to the boat!”
The chase was on.
The Chinese, South of Bangor Naval Base, WA, 0845 PDT
All they had to do was make it back to Joint Base Lewis-McChord, thought Captain Zhu as he drove south down Highway 3. Forty kilometers to Tacoma, another 24 to the base, and they were home free. Although he would have to watch for additional American roadblocks, it didn’t look like there was any pursuit. He didn’t plan to get complacent, but it looked like he would get to be the hero, after all.
The Americans, Tacoma Narrows, WA, 0915 PDT
“So, Master Chief, ever heard of the old western saying, ‘Head them off at the pass?’” Calvin asked.
“Yeah, I have,” said Ryan, “but on flat land, there isn’t enough elevation to make a pass.”
The LCAC had run as fast as it could down the bays to the Tacoma Narrows. At 60 knots, the LCAC had a speed that was more than double that of the armored force, so the Americans should have beaten them there. By going around the Chinese force on the waterways, Calvin hoped that the IFVs wouldn’t be hurrying because they wouldn’t know that they were being followed. That might also give them a little extra time. The Chinese would have to go over a bridge to get back to Tacoma; that was the Americans’ chance to stop them.
Calvin had come up with a plan that, while crazy, at least gave them a chance of success, although it had cost the U.S. government another $100,000 in danger pay to their Chinese coxswain. Calvin hoped the coxswain was keeping a record somewhere, because he had lost track. He had gotten a 15 minute catnap, though, and was feeling a lot better.
“Well, sometimes you have to use what you have available,” said Calvin. “This is what we’ve got.”
They were positioned on the down slope of the entrance ramp onto Highway 16 from 24th Street, just prior to the bridge over the Tacoma Narrows. 24th Street was an overpass over Highway 16, just past where the southbound traffic would have had to slow for a toll plaza prior to the bridge. Calvin intended to use all of this to the Americans’ advantage. They had been waiting for 10 minutes, and Calvin was starting to get worried, as he thought that the Chinese should have been there by now. They had run the LCAC full out to get there, but they had a longer distance to travel; it should have been nearly even. Just as he was about to give up on them, BTO started waving madly from the overpass where he, Tiny, Top and Reggie were waiting. The wave meant that the Chinese were in sight, and that the tank was still in the lead. Calvin wasn’t surprised that the tank was leading; it was better positioned to take care of any problems from there. Shortly after that, BTO gave him the “go” sign meaning the tank was crossing under their position.
Calvin signaled the coxswain, and the LCAC roared forward at its fastest acceleration. As they started forward, he could see the tank coming out from underneath the overpass, nearly even with them. BTO had called it right; the timing was perfect.
The Chinese, Tacoma Narrows, WA, 0920 PDT
Thirty-five minutes into the drive, both Captain Zhu and his loader were riding halfway out of the turret, enjoying the beautiful morning. Captain Zhu had relaxed and was already enjoying the accolades he was going to get for saving the entire mission. The Americans had wiped out a whole helicopter assault force the day before, but he had been successful where they had failed. Yes, he had lost some tanks, and some IFVs, a few PGZ-95 anti-aircraft guns, and a bunch of men (assuming they didn’t make it back), but he was returning with the nukes. The invasion was going to be a success, and it was all because of him. There was no doubt that he was going to get the Hero’s Medal for this; the only question was whethe
r it would be First Class or Second Class. He figured that it would be the First Class award, which would be awarded at a ceremony intended to educate the entire People’s Liberation Army on the example he had set for it. He smiled, envisioning the ceremony in his mind
As he passed the toll plaza he laughed. He wasn’t going to stop and offer them tribute so that he could drive on their road. They should give him tribute to keep him from killing them like the vermin they were. He was so lost in thought that he never saw the person on the approach side of the 24th Street overpass waving, nor the three men waiting on the back side of it. As he came out from under the overpass, he heard a loud noise, like the roar of several jet engines. Looking to the right, he saw a strange vehicle hovering above the ground, roaring down the on-ramp onto the highway, on a collision course with his tank.
He had just opened his mouth to call out a warning when the .50 caliber bullet passed through his head.
The Americans, Tacoma Narrows, WA, 0920 PDT
The only indication of Tiny’s perfect shot was a small smile that he would never allow anyone else to see. Hitting a person that was going 30 miles an hour and was less than half visible in the open hatch of a tank turret was a pretty nice shot. He knew there weren’t many people in the world that could have done it. He saw that Top, apparently, was one of them, though, as he switched his aim to the gunner that was sticking out of the other hatch. The gunner was already slumped forward on the turret and, as Tiny watched, he slid down and off the turret, bouncing onto the highway. Top had been a sniper when he was younger, a fact that Tiny had been unaware of until a couple of minutes prior. Apparently, his skills weren’t too rusty.
Calvin saw both the tank commander and gunner get shot and was amazed at the shooting skills of Tiny and Top. He would have been happy to hit the tank as it drove down the road, much less half a person sticking out of it, but Tiny and Top had been good to their word; they said they could make the shots, and they had. Now it was just up to his group. The tank driver didn’t realize that his commander and gunner were no longer onboard; he continued driving straight ahead toward the bridge and Tacoma. It had been a long, scary day, and he was looking forward to a drink when they got back. They were going to be heroes for completing what the navy couldn’t.
As the tank reached the on-ramp, the LCAC pulled up alongside it. It was now visible to the IFVs, but it was too close to the tank for them to be able to shoot at it. As the coxswain brought the LCAC gracefully alongside the tank, Calvin yelled, “Boarders Away” and the twins and Master Chief leaped out onto it. Master Chief slid down the gunner’s hatch, looked at the driver and yelled “Gundan” (“get out”) while pointing a large pistol at him. The tank slowed as the driver started up toward the hatch, where the twins pulled him up and out. He went over the side where he bounced and went off the road and into the water as the tank crossed onto the bridge.
Good Twin slid into the driver’s seat, as it was his turn to drive, and the tank kept rolling. Master Chief went back out through the hatch so that Bad Twin could get into the gunner’s seat. No longer needed, he jumped back over to the LCAC, and Shuteye jumped over and took the commander’s chair. As he got positioned, Bad Twin rotated the turret so that it was facing backward, and Good Twin brought the tank to a stop, turning it to block the road. The IFVs behind it were forced to stop as well. Shuteye keyed the microphone and said over the Chinese tactical network, “This is General Shuteye in the main battle tank. In my mercy, I will allow you to surrender and not be destroyed if you exit your vehicles and go to the end of the bridge. If you do not get out now, you will be destroyed.” He gave the signal to Bad Twin, and he fired the main gun, just missing the closest IFV. “You are, of course, aware that you are carrying nuclear weapons,” said Shuteye. “If we have to shoot you, I don’t think the results will be good for any of us.”
Nearly as one, the hatches of the IFVs opened, and the crewmen got out and began walking back to the end of the bridge. Once again, the Americans had control of their nuclear weapons. Calvin yelled to Master Chief as the LCAC shut down, “See? We beat them to the pass!”
Master Chief nodded a couple of times, but then a puzzled look came over his face. “Did I really hear you tell the colonel that you were a SEAL?”
Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Tacoma, WA, 0945 PDT
It was obvious to Colonel Zhang Wei that something had happened to the force that he had sent to the Bangor Naval Base. They were powerful enough that nothing in the area should have been able to stop them, yet they were overdue. Although he did not want to admit defeat, it was time to let Beijing know that they had failed. There were other things at stake beside the battle for Seattle. He called the president.
When the president came onto the line, Zhang reported his inability to capture any of the Americans’ nuclear weapons, and that it appeared the Americans had broken through his forces to the east. He was surprised at how calmly the president responded.
“Is that so?” asked the president. “So what do you intend to do about it?”
“Mr. President,” replied Colonel Zhang, “Seattle is lost. Without the nuclear weapons to hold the Americans at bay, they can attack us at will. We can make the fight bloody by making them fight us in the downtown area, but they will rapidly have more troops in the area than we will be able to stop. By pulling back into the cities, we will also lose the mobility advantage that we currently have with our armor, and they will quickly be destroyed. It is time to salvage what we can by boarding our ships now, before the Americans get here, and sailing for China.”
“THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!” roared the president. “I knew that you were unworthy of this task, but allowed myself to be talked into using you as the leader of our forces. We need more time to capture Taiwan, and you have to give it to us! You must redeploy your forces to hold the Americans! You! Must! Hold!”
“But, sir, without the nuclear weapons, we don’t have anything to make the Americans pause,” explained Colonel Zhang. “Their forces are swelling rapidly along all of their axes of attack, while our men are being killed by some unknown group or groups. I don’t have the men required to make another attempt to capture more American weapons from the base at Bangor and still hold the Americans at bay. Regardless of what I do, we are going to be overwhelmed!”
“It is good, then,” replied the president, “that I planned for this. You did not need to know before, but we have a backup plan. One of our own nuclear weapons was brought to America and is currently on American soil. Call the American president and tell him that they missed getting one back, and their forces are currently fighting near it. If they don’t withdraw immediately, they will risk setting it off.”
Colonel Zhang breathed a sigh of relief at the opportunity to redeem himself. “Yes, sir, I will do so. Am I permitted to know where it is?”
“Looking at your record so far with safeguarding nuclear weapons, I don’t believe that you can be trusted to take care of them,” said the president. “I believe that I will let the people that are currently watching over this one continue to do so.”
“I understand, Mr. President,” said Colonel Zhang. “I will not let you down again.”
“See that you do not,” instructed the president. “You must hold. We are at a critical time. The next 24 hours will determine whether we win or lose.”
“I will hold, Mr. President,” promised Colonel Zhang. “I will give our forces in Taiwan the time they need!”
White House Situation Room, Washington, D.C., 1250 EDT (0950 PDT)
“Mr. President, there is a call for you from someone claiming to be Colonel Zhang Wei, the leader of the Chinese ground forces in the Seattle area,” said a staffer running into the room with a phone handset. “He says he needs to speak to you urgently.”
The president took the phone. “This is the president.”
“Good morning Mr. President,” the voice on the other end of the line said, “this is Colonel Zhang Wei, the leader of the ground forces of t
he People’s Republic of China in Seattle. I am calling with a most urgent message for you. I am aware that you have a group behind our lines that has recovered some of the nuclear weapons you so carelessly misplaced. I am calling to let you know that they missed one. Unfortunately, that weapon was moved forward to the front lines. If the fighting continues, it is very likely that weapon will be damaged, irradiating the area at a minimum, and potentially setting it off. If your forces do not withdraw, I cannot be responsible for the safety of your men or your cities in the area.
“If that weapon blows up or spills nuclear material on our soil, I can guarantee there is no way you will ever make it off U.S. soil alive!” yelled the president. “You will end up in a jail somewhere and will never be seen again!”
“You may threaten me all you would like,” said Colonel Zhang. “Unfortunately, it is not that simple. Due to the success of your attack, I have lost the ability to contact my forces. If you do not call your troops back, I can virtually guarantee that something will happen to the weapon, and you will have no one to blame but yourself. I will personally inform the media in the area, assuming we survive the nuclear explosion, that I warned you about it, and you chose to disregard my warning.”
“Where is the weapon?” asked the president. “Tell me where it is, and we’ll secure it.”
“I don’t know,” answered Colonel Zhang. “It was taken forward, but I lost contact with the men that had custody of it. My advice to you is to pull back your troops. Now.” With that, he hung up.
Occupied Seattle (Occupied Seattle Book 2) Page 21