by David Poyer
The torrent of Standard Hanyu decreased in volume. The translation began, a cool high female voice contrasting oddly with the angry male face that spoke. The premier was saying, “I promise those who plunged the world into war that if Shanghai is attacked, Seattle will be next.
“If there is still doubt, our most recent test of what the West knows as the DF-41, launched in central China and impacting southeast of Hawaii, should put all minds at rest. We possess the capacity to destroy every major city in the United States.”
He raised a finger, glaring into the camera. “Not only that: our missiles are now so accurate, we can destroy the ability of the Americans to strike back.
“The greatest nation on earth will emerge victorious from this conflict. There are more of us, and we are inured to suffering. America’s insults have gone too far. As a great leader once said in the midst of a war that threatened the life of his nation: We will not take one step back.”
The premier glanced at his notes. His tone changed; he seemed to be trying to smile. “Our friends stand by us. The Associated Powers present a united front to the aggressors. In addition, those nations which, realizing their past errors, have decided to help inaugurate a new era in Asia are benefiting from our forbearance.
“I refer to the Republic of the Philippines, the new People’s Republic of South Korea, and the People’s Republic of Nepal and Northern India. Together with the Islamic Republic of Iran, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, and the People’s Republic of Miandan, we will develop the vast resources of the seas and lands of Asia and the Pacific for the benefit of all peaceful peoples.
“Our welcome also extends to the State of Japan. The negotiations now going on will not only end hostilities between these two great nations, but recognize the sovereignty of the Chinese people over those islands called by the Japanese the Senkakus, but whose rightful name is now restored: the Diaoyu Islands.”
Zhang swerved aside at this point into a lengthy discussion of the chain of sovereignty on the islands in question. Szerenci, grunting something inaudible, fast-forwarded until he came to the next section he wanted. Zhang lifted a finger, shaking it; the detached female voice translated again.
“This agreement means eternal peace with Japan. However, our forces will have to remain at the former foreign air bases, to assure compliance with new conditions and defend against American attacks. In exchange, the People’s Empire promises to respect and defend the territorial boundaries of our new friend and associate.”
“This isn’t good,” Lipsey muttered, across from Blair.
Zhang drank slowly from a glass of water, then set it aside. When he resumed, his tone was deeper. “A further warning to those who contemplate aggression. Behind us now stands the noble population of Russia, with immense armed force and a second nuclear deterrent. That great country too has suffered from U.S. and European hegemonic aggression, on the other side of Eurasia. This, too, in the words of an American president, will not stand.”
Szerenci held up a clicker, and the screen froze with Zhang’s open mouth a toothy O. The national security adviser said, “He goes on for another hour and a half. But that’s enough for the flavor. And did you catch where he quoted Stalin? ‘Not one step back.’ He’s speaking before the People’s Congress, by the way. Which he’s just finished purging—probably why the standing ovation at the end lasts for a full thirty minutes.”
General Vincenzo said, “First question in my mind: Is his threat credible? About taking out our second-strike capability.”
Szerenci lifted an eyebrow. “We should have taken action years ago. If we don’t hold escalation dominance, everything changes. We have to either fight wars of attrition, against enemies that don’t value life as we do, or surrender, in one way or another.
“Therefore—and I’ve said this before—our goal in this conflict has to be to eliminate Chinese nuclear capabilities.”
“That would take an invasion,” Vincenzo said quietly. “You’re not seriously proposing that, I hope.”
“Too soon to debate.” Szerenci let that hang, then added, “We once had ten thousand warheads on delivery vehicles. Right now, we have fewer than fifteen hundred. We scrapped the multi-warhead Peacekeepers. Our ground-based deterrent consists of four hundred Minuteman IIIs, split among Warren, in Wyoming, Malmstrom, in Montana, and Minot, in North Dakota.
“Minuteman used to carry three warheads, of a third of a megaton each. We took two off for START, leaving one for each delivery vehicle. But we kept the front-end platform and the old bulkhead. Right now, we’ve got a crash program going to reload with all three warheads. But we have to upgrade the software, swap out the mountings, update the support equipment. It will take three months to restore them to the triple-warhead configuration.”
“But how vulnerable are they?” Blair asked.
Szerenci nodded to Hui. “Denson, want to take that?”
The missile defense director looked grim. “We’ve run thousands of simulations on a first strike against our ground-housed forces. Accuracy’s the critical variable. If they can field a guidance package good enough to land a terminal vehicle in a hundred-meter circle, they can destroy any silo. Hardened or not.”
“And can they?” Vincenzo asked quietly.
Hui looked down. “Based on their penetration of our contractors over the years … and what they got from Los Alamos … they probably can.”
Blair said, “What about our interceptors?”
Vincenzo said, “We have thirty in Alaska and fifteen at Vandenberg. With up to ten MIRVs for each DF-41, and probably steerable decoys, too … you see the problem.”
“The antimissile laser?” the J3 asked. “The airborne system?”
“It has possibilities. Lockheed’s on it. But it’s not there yet.”
They stared at one another across the polished table. Until Szerenci sighed. “As I said, I warned everyone about this. Didn’t I, Blair?”
“You did,” she admitted. “Though I think you were a little too ready to—”
“So now,” the national security adviser interrupted, “our heaviest weapons are vulnerable. Our bomber leg has lost its advance bases, and NSA’s telling me the Russians are shipping their most advanced antiair systems to Beijing. So we may have to rule out strategic bombing as well.
“This leaves our sea-based deterrent. Fortunately, we repositioned it to the far north and south of the equator. Destruction of the main wolf pack in the Pacific, and mopping up the remainder, means our subs are once again secure.
He leaned back. “I only hope that’s enough to deter a first strike. If it isn’t, we’ll be counting our dead in tens of millions.”
Blair lifted a pencil. “You were more confident last year, Doctor. As I recall, your exact words were ‘Now could be better than later.’ You called it an opportunity, not a disaster.”
Szerenci looked only mildly interested. “War contains many surprises, Blair.”
“Not good enough. Deterrence is supposed to persuade a potential adversary to forgo attack, based on his perception of the benefits of various courses of action, compared to the costs and consequences.”
Szerenci waved it away. “Adversary decision making isn’t just a matter of mathematics. I admit, I’m sometimes seduced by the quantitatives. And, yes, I’ve made mistakes too.
“But moves are also influenced by strategic culture, the idiosyncrasies of decision mechanisms, and leadership styles. Zhang’s proven to be more of a gambler than anyone expected. Especially since his wounding during the terrorist attack at Mumbai, which he seems to blame on us somehow.
“At any rate … I’m not interested in revisiting what could have been done to forestall this. That’s a matter for the historians. Right now, we have to outline our options.” He looked at the so-far-silent Glancey, at the far end of the table. “The good news is, we have an expert on war termination with us. Professor?”
Glancey didn’t meet their
gazes. “Unfortunately, there’s no road map for war termination between nuclear powers. It’s never happened before.
“Our original plan called for depleting their forces in the China Seas, then blockade. The Allies are self-sufficient in food, and we have adequate energy supplies. Beijing has to import both. We estimated exhaustion of oil and grains in three months, followed by rationing, inflation, and food riots, forcing the regime to deal.
“We already have reports of spot food shortages. And there also seems to be some sort of disease outbreak in Western China. But three factors are vitiating a blockade strategy. First, their last-minute stockpiling, trading U.S. debt for grain and feedstocks. Second, Iran and Russia’s involvement, in supplying oil, liquefied natural gas, and weapons. Finally, the Chinese are extracting huge quantities of foodstuffs from their allies—mainly rice from northern Burma, what Zhang calls Miandan.
“They’re hurting us, too. Financial networks are in ruins. Banks are history. Repeated failures of the power grid are hurting war production. We moved Joint Intelligence to the Cloud, and lost it in the Cloudburst—”
“We know all that,” Vincenzo snapped, leaving off doodling. “How do we end this?”
The professor grimaced. “I see two routes to the conference table.”
“Which are?”
“Make peace, on the best terms we can, or escalate.”
“Escalate to what?” Blair said. “Ed says we’ve lost dominance. When you don’t have that, what’s left is total war.”
Glancey said, “But if you squeeze this guy too tight, he’ll escalate back. Are we ready to lose San Francisco? Seattle? Or the Trident base at Bangor?”
“We can escalate horizontally,” said the deputy PaCom, Faulcon.
“Where?” The J3 lifted both palms. “He’s beaten us in Korea and Okinawa. Outfought the Japanese in the Senkakus. Crushed the Taiwanese. Fought the Indians to a standstill, and is probably going to roll over the Vietnamese next.”
Faulcon said, “First, raise some hell in his backyard. A coup in Alma-Ata, or a revolt of the Uighurs or Tibetans. Then press inward around the periphery, with assaults as close together as possible. Strike where his supply lines are longest and his forces weakest.”
“Let’s briefly discuss Dr. Glancey’s first option,” Szerenci interrupted. “I won’t advocate it, but I have to present it to the president. In view of the resistance our carrier groups are encountering, as they execute Operation Recoil. We could call off the raid on Ningbo. Sideline the invasion of Itbayat. Then put out feelers through Moscow. Or, better, Tokyo. Thoughts?”
Vincenzo said, “That’s a decision for the theater commander.”
“No, it’s the commander in chief’s prerogative,” Szerenci said. He glanced at Blair. “What’s the feeling on the Hill? You’re still tight with Senator Talmadge, right?”
She said evenly, “I won’t carry tales between the Hill and the executive, Ed.”
“We can’t fight without Congress voting the funds, Blair.”
“They won’t buy a surrender. But neither will they vote funds without a strategy for something that looks like victory,” she told him. “So far, I haven’t heard one. And just grinding China down isn’t going to work while Zhang carries those missiles in his back pocket.”
“What’s our desired end state?” Glancey asked. “Knowing that might help.”
“Regime change,” Szerenci said. “Renunciation of nuclear weapons. And freeing of Taiwan, Korea, and the other seized territories.”
“Too ambitious,” Blair said. “Again, you’re talking total war to achieve that.”
They glared at each other across the table. Until the deputy said, “What do Zhang’s comments about Russia mean? Are they going to intervene?”
“We can’t respond if they attack Ukraine or Lithuania,” Vincenzo said. “All our forces are deployed, either in the Mideast or the Pacific. Europe will be on its own for at least a year, until the new divisions and new factories come online.”
General Lipsey, the J3, said, “There’s speculation from State that Russia’s really not all that eager to support Zhang. It’s as if he’s holding something over them. Some kind of threat, or blackmail, that keeps them supplying oil, food, and weapons.”
“What about the theater nuclear option?” Vincenzo said, gaze on his doodling.
Szerenci nodded. “PaCom can recommend using special weapons. But employing them requires presidential release authority.” He glanced at Faulcon. “Yangerhans hasn’t asked for them so far. Does he now?”
“No,” said the deputy. “But he’d like to reserve their use. He requested that, as you remember, if we ended up with significant forces trapped in Pusan.”
The national security adviser said, “Let’s go to the second option. General Faulcon describes this as horizontal escalation, but it’s the classic way a combatant with command of the sea reduces one with interior lines of communication. He mentioned raising strife in Zhang’s backyard. Much of China is lightly populated, hard to police, and contains restive minorities. I understand Ops and Plans has been working on this.”
Lipsey nodded to an aide, and a slide went up. It showed red arrows in four positions around China. “Dr. Szerenci is right in describing this as classic strategy. It’s Grant at Richmond, Eisenhower invading the Ruhr. Our next step, assuming Mandible and Recoil succeed, will not only attempt to foment unrest in western China, but coordinate attacks in Nepal, across the Vietnamese border into Yunnan, and naval operations in the South China Sea.”
But Vincenzo was shaking his head, pushing back from the table. “We don’t have the forces to support simultaneous attacks. Not for another year. And the Indians aren’t ready to take the offensive yet. Yet. If ever.”
Blair lifted her pencil again. “General Shucheng is still resisting in the mountains of Taiwan. And the Second Marine Division will be free after Itbayat is taken.”
“If it’s taken,” Vincenzo snorted. “It’s too soon for a general offensive. Strategically and logistically. No offense, Abe, but I’ve been hearing some crazy things out of the work groups at J3. Taking over part of the front in Vietnam. Invading Hainan. Landing at Hong Kong, for God’s sake! When all we have is the 25th, in Hawaii, the Second Infantry, and elements of the Ninth. And nine brigade combat teams, two combat aviation brigades, and thirteen multifunctional brigades.
“Against a Chinese army of over two hundred divisions? We land, they cut us off, and we face another massive defeat. That’s what I’ll tell the president.”
“So what do we do?” Blair asked him.
“Wait. Build up. Shape the battlefield,” he told her. “Meanwhile, let the Navy and Air Force carry the ball.”
Szerenci looked from one to the next. Finally he nodded, and began gathering his papers. “All right, good meeting. The decision will be up to the president, of course. In consultation with the other heads of state. But we have clear options. One, sue for peace. Two, escalate vertically. Three, escalate horizontally.”
Blair frowned. “I just wish we had a better idea how we tie this thing off.”
Just for a microsecond, Szerenci looked agonized. Then bland again. “I agree, Madam Undersecretary. Dr. Glancey, we could use further study on that by your working group.
“I will add one thing. If the president decides to continue the war, I will warn Beijing that if the continental U.S. is attacked, or if nuclear weapons are used again on our forces, we will destroy a Chinese city.”
Blair started to speak, but couldn’t find words.
He stacked notes in his briefcase, nodded to them all, and rose to leave.
He hesitated, though, and gestured for her to join him in the corridor. Once the door closed he murmured, “Your visit to Seattle. How’d it go? With, what are they calling it—Big Eagle?”
She halted dead. He wasn’t supposed to know that. No one outside Special Projects was. If there was an Ultra secret in this war, it was Battle Eagle. “Uh…”
; “Is it online yet?”
“I’m not cleared to comment, Ed. Not to anyone.”
“The attacks are getting more serious. Jade Emperor is learning. Put the screws to them, Blair. For all our sakes.”
He turned, and headed down the hall. Leaving behind an uneasy silence, a sense, at least as Blair felt it, that nothing, really, had been decided.
That made her nervous. Given Szerenci’s reputation for brinkmanship, and Zhang’s lack of restraint.
Put the two of them together and the gates of hell could open.
Back by the conference room, she nabbed the chief of staff. “General Vincenzo?”
“Madam Undersecretary.”
“I don’t like the idea of drifting. Our economy is bleeding too. We only have one operating refinery left. Gasoline’s at eighteen-fifty a gallon. And you know about the peace movements. From both the left and the right. If we don’t seize the initiative—conventionally, I mean—the enemy will. Or the voters will despair, and then we’re really lost.”
Vincenzo bared his teeth. “We aren’t drifting,” he snapped. “If we take the offensive too soon, we’ll get kicked back into the sea. Remember how long it took to build up for Normandy?”
“But do we have that luxury this time? I see delay as problematic at best. Lethal at worst.”
The general handed his briefcase to one of the colonels, nodded, a near-contemptuous jerk of the head, and turned on his heel.
Leaving her in the hall contemplating one of the paintings, full of smoke, and flames, and bombs falling on a helpless city.
IV
OPERATION RECOIL
18
Western Xinjiang
STUMBLING out of a deep defile, Teddy, Fierros, and Major Trinh halted as if of one accord.
With goatskins lashed over the remains of their prison rags with smoke-dried sinew, they gawked down on a flat green plain like demons encountering Heaven.
The valleys they’d followed, hoping the way led down, had instead bewitched them into a labyrinth of profound ravines and blasted gulches shadowed even in daylight by great mountains. With the final remnants of strength, they’d toiled to the crests of knife-sharp ridges to gauge how the land ran. Only to survey endless miles of the same gravelly, deserted Mars-scape. And looming evermore at their right shoulders, the snow-covered, frowning Tien Shan.