by James Rosone
Holding a hand up in surrender, Neal clarified his response. “You’re right. Gates didn’t launch the missiles at America, and I know the military did its best to try and shoot them down. I guess I’m just mad that of all the missiles to get through our missile defense shield, the Bay Area ended up taking it on the chin.”
“We’re all irate about that, Neal,” said Ambassador Dayal. “It could’ve been a lot worse if the interceptors hadn’t hit the other missiles though. We could have lost New York, Chicago, Washington D.C., and a few other cities.”
The President allowed Neal to vent for a few minutes, nodding as he listened. When he had said his piece and gotten some of his anger out of his system, the President moved in to prod for more information.
“Neal, you’re a businessman, and you seem to have a good grasp on the politics of what’s happening. When the Indian government first joined the war against us, the situation looked bleak for America. However, a year has passed, and the tides of the war have changed. Their military suffered a catastrophic defeat in the Russian Far East, and they’ve sustained heavy losses in Europe. Do they still believe they can defeat America? That they’re still on the right side of history in this war?”
Neal leaned back in the chair for a second to think. “I don’t have a lot of contact with people back in India, for obvious reasons, but I believe the initial optimism about a quick victory has evaporated. I think the reality of what it would take to fight and defeat the United States has started to set in. The initial war hawks in the Indian government and military are now facing the reality that their allies, Russia and China, are not in nearly as strong of a military position as they first believed they were.”
“I agree,” confirmed Vivek. “I think the initial optimism the government had about dethroning the US evaporated when their forces were soundly defeated in Siberia. I have some family living in Mumbai, and they tell me the average person on the street believes the war is a huge mistake. When the casualties from the battle were made known, a lot of people took to the streets to protest the war. They had been led to believe the war would be won quickly, and America was all but defeated—that it would be India, Russia, and China who would dominate the world. That belief has been shattered. I suspect when the casualty reports are released from the European battles that are taking place right now, any support within the government for the war will further evaporate.”
Foss took the information in while he formulated his next question. “OK, so if what you all are saying is true, and I have no reason to believe it’s not, how should we try to convince them to end their involvement in the war? I’d rather not have to launch cruise missiles at them, or potentially land troops near their borders. So how do we persuade them that staying in the war any further is not going to end well for them?”
There was a brief pause before Ambassador Dayal responded. “I propose we make them an offer. Give them an opportunity to end their involvement in the war peacefully, now. If they choose not to, then we start to use the Navy to launch cruise missiles at key aspects of their economy that are specifically supporting their war effort. Right now, the casualties they’re suffering are far away from their borders. If they start to lose people at home, that might be the needed catalyst to force real change.”
The President thought about that for a minute. He agreed with the ambassador’s assessment. It was time to make the Indian government an offer to end the war or face a further escalation.
*******
Following the lunch and continued conversations with his guests, President Foss went to the next meeting, eager to hear what his spy agency had to report. When he entered the PEOC, he saw CIA Director Jedediah “JP” Perth, Tom McMillan, his National Security Advisor, Admiral Peter Meyers, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and Secretary of Defense Jim Castle all eagerly waiting for him. This meeting was intentionally being kept small. Once the President had taken his seat, Josh, his Chief of Staff and senior advisor, took a seat next to him and the meeting began.
“Sir, I’ve called this meeting to brief you on the latest developments with Operation Strawman,” JP said, urgency in his voice. “I received a crucial message from our source in Moscow. There’s been a major development, and we need to discuss it with you now.”
The others squirmed a bit in their chairs, unsure of what awaited them.
“For the sake of the war, I hope you are reporting good news to us because my analysts are becoming increasingly concerned that Petrov may start to use his WMD in the very near future,” said SecDef Castle. He narrowed his eyes at JP.
President Foss surveyed the faces in the room. They seemed as genuinely concerned with Castle’s statement as he felt. The Russians had kept the war conventional up this point, but with the continued losses forming an ever-tightening noose around Petrov’s neck, that could change.
Foss signaled for JP to continue. “Alexei Kasyanov, the political leader of the Russian resistance we’ve been cultivating to take Petrov’s place, has been holding secret meetings with certain regime members as he’s sought to build out his coalition of support against Petrov. We know the FSB Director, Ivan Vasilek, was executed by Petrov a short while ago for the failure of the British deception and for the progress of the war. His replacement, Lieutenant General Grigory Sobolev, has been a bit of an unknown to us. However, one of the men Alexei has apparently recruited to his side is a man by the name of Major General Oleg Zolotov. He’s head of the Russian FSO, which is essentially the Russian version of the Secret Service.”
This last part got President Foss’s ears to perk up a bit as he realized this was one guy who truly had access to Petrov on a regular basis and was one of the few people allowed to be armed around him.
“He secretly met with General Zolotov the other day, and the general intimated that an effort to replace Petrov was not only possible but should be carried out sooner rather than later. He also told Alexei that General Sobolev was willing to support a coup against Petrov and sue for a separate peace from China and India with the Allies if he could personally secure and retain power,” JP explained.
The group was silent for a moment. Tom McMillan commented, “On the surface, this sounds great. However, I fear we’d be changing out one dictator for another one. How is Sobolev going to be any better than Petrov? Right now, we’re probably months away from defeating Russia. I’m not sold on this just yet.”
Jim Castle interjected, “I say we go for it, and here’s why. We’re about to capture St. Petersburg, and the British are leading an effort in northern Russia that is driving on Moscow even as we speak. General Cotton is about to launch a several-hundred-kilometer-long offensive to drive the remaining Russian and Indian forces out of Ukraine and move on Moscow. As the war gets closer to Moscow, Petrov is going to become more desperate—so will his generals. His military leaders will advocate for the use of tactical nuclear weapons against our forces, or at least chemical or biological weapons. It’s the only way he can stop our offensive. If backing Sobolev to take Petrov’s place ends the war and removes the credible threat of the Russians using nuclear weapons, then I believe we should take it.”
The room stayed silent for a moment. President Foss contemplated what Castle had just said. He had known the possibility of Russia using their nukes was out there, but no one had really given it a lot of credence before now, especially after how aggressive President Gates had been in his response to the destruction of Oakland. He looked up at the ceiling, saying a prayer that he would make the right decision at this juncture. Then he told the men in the room his counterproposal to Sobolev.
*******
Later that evening, well past dinner, President Foss finished reading a long proposal from his cyberwarfare advisor, Katelyn Mackie, on what actions she advocated for in India. President Gates had still been formulating what he wanted to do with India when he’d been killed, so Foss hadn’t had a lot of precedent to go on. Up until now, he’d been hesitant about going after India too hard as he
’d hoped a peaceful solution could be found. However, after his afternoon lunch with several prominent Indian Americans, he realized he hadn’t given India nearly as much attention or effort as he probably should have.
Katelyn had come up with a unique proposal that would limit the loss of life and hopefully get the message across to the Indian government that continuing the war would result in further debilitating attacks. Her plan centered around the rail industry; according to her research, a total of 8.26 billion passengers used the rail system in India annually, which meant the country was heavily dependent on this sector. President Foss shuddered in horror as he looked at photos of how horrifically overcrowded the commuter trains in India were. As he continued to read, Foss learned how vital India’s rail system was in moving the war munitions that India produced, as well as the workers who commuted to produce the ordnance.
Of the 121,407 kilometers of rail tracks in the country, 49% were electrified, and through collaboration with a team of locomotive engineers in France, Katelyn’s team had identified a vulnerability within the 2x25kV autotransformer system used in the Indian railways. By inserting a malicious code into a component of this system during one of the automated patch updates Indian Railways performed on a weekly basis, they had already successfully infected the electrified portion of the rail line with their code. All Katelyn needed was permission to initiate the attack, and India would lose access to half of their rail lines. The proposed cyberattack wouldn’t destroy India’s rail infrastructure or cause significant loss of life, but it would shut down the sector until the damaged components could be replaced, which could take them months, maybe even a year or more.
Foss had to smile at the ingenuity of the plan. Part of him wished that he knew more about cyberwarfare so that he could have come up with the idea on his own. Then a sobering thought hit him. “If we can do this to India, I have to imagine China, Russia, or India could do this to us too,” he realized. He made a note to discuss vulnerabilities in the homeland with Katelyn Mackie later.
He put his pen behind his ear for a moment as he thought over the implications of the proposal, and then he scribbled his signature on the authorization form to allow Katelyn’s team to initiate the cyberattack. He placed the completed document and the brief in his “Out” bin.
President Foss had a chuckle at himself. Here he was initiating a complex cyberattack while utilizing what was arguably a very archaic filing system for his paperwork. “They have their methods and I have mine,” he thought.
With the final tasks for the day complete, it was time for Foss to collapse and get a few hours of shut-eye before he had to get up and do it all over again the next day.
Battle of Huatung Valley
Dulan Forest, Taiwan
“I hate chili-mac,” Sergeant Price said to no one in particular as he finished scooping the last spoonful of the stuff out of the MRE and shoved it in his mouth.
“Oh, come on, Sergeant. It isn’t that bad. It comes with the jalapeno cheese pack,” chided one of his soldiers good-naturedly.
Price sat against the trunk of a large tree. Around them, the birds in the forest sang their melodies and did their best to ignore the human intruders to their environment. In the distance, helicopters and the occasional fighter plane flew overhead.
Price spotted Lieutenant Martinez walking over toward him and the rest of his platoon. “Five minutes, guys! We’re pulling out in five mikes, so get your gear ready!” he shouted.
“We finally got orders off this rock?” asked Sergeant Price.
The LT nodded and pulled out a map. “Yeah. The brass wants us to make our way down this ridge so we can patrol and clear this sector here,” he explained, pointing to the location. “Word has it the enemy has a base camp somewhere on the opposite side of this river.” Martinez waved for the other squad leaders to come over so he could show them as well.
Once their company had secured the air base on D-Day, their unit had completed the long trudge up to the top of the Dulan Forest. They’d been prepared to fight their way to the top, but once they’d pushed past the first set of defenses, the enemy had just evaporated. Granted, the Australians had had it hard taking the beach and securing the city, but once that initial fight had been won, the enemy had withdrawn into the countryside.
They’d spent nearly three weeks patrolling and clearing the ridge and low-lying mountaintops for enemy bunkers and hidden positions, but now they were coming up empty and it was finally time to move further inland. The terrain they had been battling on was brutal, similar to some of the mountains of Afghanistan. It had definitely been a challenge to traverse this area with eighty-pound packs and body armor. Sergeant Price would certainly not be alone in his excitement to get off the ridge.
The soldiers gladly finished stuffing any last items into their packs and prepared to move out. Sergeant Price noticed that one of his soldiers seemed a little less excited than everyone else to be moving on.
“Sergeant, you know the nice thing about being stuck on this mountain, patrolling through the woods like this?” he asked.
Price pulled his ruck straps tight. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” he answered with a chuckle.
“We haven’t lost anyone since the first day,” the trooper replied with a somber look. Then he made his way down to one of the trails where the rest of the squad was forming up.
“Man, he’s right,” Price thought. “Poor guy’s still hurting over Tyler.”
Like a lot of soldiers in their unit, Private Tyler had been killed during the combat jump on the first day of the invasion. He was a well-liked guy from Colorado, the sort of guy everyone wanted to hang out with on a Friday night. His loss had hit several of the guys really hard. Of course, it didn’t help anything that they’d only had five privates join them during the three weeks they were in the field—they were still short six soldiers in their platoon and eighteen for their company.
They all slowly made their way down the mountain, until they came across a small family farm. At first, the sight of nearly a hundred heavily armed soldiers coming in their direction scared the family, who had been tending to their property. However, once the locals learned the soldiers were Americans, they were more than happy to greet them and talk with them.
The soldiers fanned out and secured the area, and then Sergeant Price brought their interpreter over so they could have a legitimate conversation with the man who owned the farm. Since they didn’t have a Chinese linguist in their unit, their battalion had hired a few dozen local nationals to act as their guides and interpreters, at least until vetted contracted linguists could be brought in. The local national that was working with Sergeant Price’s company had been a college student studying to be a doctor, so his English was superb. It sure didn’t hurt anything that he was very physically fit, considering all the rough terrain they’d been traversing. He’d told the Americans to call him Mr. Lee, since none of them could pronounce his Chinese name without butchering it.
Mr. Lee warmly introduced himself, the major and the lieutenant to the farmer, who then began speaking very rapidly, waving his arms wildly and pointing toward the large river a couple of kilometers below their current position.
Major Adam Fowler, the company CO, told Mr. Lee, “Hey, get this guy to calm down so we can ask him some questions.”
Mr. Lee nodded. “The man and his family really just wanted to thank you and your men for liberating them from the communists. He said they would prepare food for your men if you would like.”
The officers nodded, not wanting to insult them. The woman set off for the house along with two of their children. Lieutenant Martinez and one of the other soldiers went with her, to make sure the house was clear of enemy soldiers, and to make sure the woman knew they would be paying them for the food. They wouldn’t take from a family in need, and the company could easily write up a voucher receipt that follow-on units would honor.
Major Fowler changed the topic. “Mr. Lee, ask him wh
ere the communist soldiers went,” he instructed.
The two men went back and forth for a few minutes before Mr. Lee turned to face Fowler again. “The man says the communists left the area shortly after we arrived,” he explained. “The enemy soldiers moved to a fort they built nearby. It’s over in that area there.” He pointed toward what appeared to be a large hilltop across the river, at least seven or eight kilometers away from their current position.
Major Fowler nodded. “Ask the man if the roads and trails are clear of enemy soldiers until we reach the edge of this side of the river.”
More banter went on between the two Taiwanese men before Mr. Lee once again turned back toward Fowler. “Yes,” he answered. “The road and trails around here are clear of enemy soldiers. He said we don’t need to take the hard way down the mountain. The communists left the area several weeks ago, and they’ve been using the roads and trails without incident.”
The company stayed at the farm for an hour while they refilled their camelbacks and contacted battalion. They wanted to pass along the intelligence they’d found and see if any of the other units had heard the same thing about this enemy fort. Shortly before they left, the farmer’s wife brought out some sort of chicken and rice dish for the soldiers, which they greedily ate every morsel of. With full bellies, it was time to get back on the road.
Continuing their descent to the bottom of the mountain, they encountered half a dozen other small farm plots. In each location, the people were eager to greet them and share what information they knew about the enemy with the men they viewed as liberators.
As they neared the base of the mountain, they came across a small village that sat just above the river they would eventually need to cross. Once they entered the village, several locals came out to greet them and talk with them. One of the locals who introduced himself caught the major’s attention because he identified himself as the only police officer left in the local area.