Invasion: China (Invasion America) (Volume 5) (49 page)

“Seventy-three percent never made it to target,” Taylor told him. “But like I said, it was a mass strike. Don’t worry. We beat the assaulters back into their lair of Changchun. The bad news for us is that the Chinese used plenty of civilians in the attack.”

“Why’s that bad?”

“Because it means most of their regular soldiers survived and can do the same thing later.”

“Oh,” Stan said.

“It got bloody. The Russians took the brunt of it, but we have three thousand dead men and many more wounded ourselves.”

“It must have been
quite a missile strike,” Stan said.

“I think that’s what I’ve been trying to say. In any case, we’re taking a battalion of Jeffersons from you.”

“Sir?” Stan asked.

“Do you have a bad connection?
Can’t you hear me?”

“No, sir,” Stan said. “But I need reinforcements, not to lose an entire battalion, my best one at that.”

“Reinforcements are on their way from America.”

“And when do the first ones get here?” Stan asked.

“Another three weeks,” Taylor said. “I’ll admit it’s only going to be a trickle at first. Then we should get a solid fifty thousand soldiers.”

“When?” Stan asked.

“In six weeks.”

“That’s not soon enough sir, not if we’re going to reach Shenyang this summer.”

“We’ll reach it and beyond.”

“How can you be so certain?” Stan asked.

“Because I spoke to General McGraw, and he told me. No doubt, Director Harold told him. Any more questions, Higgins?”

Stan had plenty, but he kept them to himself.

“By the way,” Taylor said, “good work today. I read your report. That was clever maneuvering.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“That will be all, Higgins. Keep up the good work.”

The screen went blank before Stan could say thank you again.
Small exploding balls appeared on the screen. They kept changing color. He walked away, scratching his chin. The first premonition of Chinese intentions began to trickle into his brain.

It was six weeks now since the beginning of the invasion. They had smashed through
two-thirds of Manchuria, and they had begun to reach the heavy industrial region. Liaoning Province was a goldmine in strategic terms. China couldn’t afford to let Shenyang fall or to let it be encircled like Changchun.

Stan snapped his fingers. He spun around and marched back to his battle-net people. It was time to do some deep thinking and time to use the computers. The mass ballistic missile attack combined with a bum rush out of Changchun
…

It means something is going on
. He needed to figure out what exactly.

BEIJING, CHINA

Shun Li
stood at attention before Chairman Hong. He sat behind a massive desk with absolutely nothing on it.

As she’d entered, she
’d caught a glimpse of a fleeing woman putting on a robe. The woman had been barefoot. A flash of a breast meant she had been naked beneath the robe.

The Chairman appeared winded and his hair in slight disarray. Shun Li had the distinct impression the Chairman had used the top of his desk for sex. She’d heard rumors about this growing appetite. That image of him was quite at odds with the puritanical version his PR people projected
to the world.

“I’m very busy,” he said. Then both he and Shun Li noticed
that he’d buttoned his jacket wrong. He began to unbutton them.

“I realize
you’re hard at work, Leader,” Shun Li said. “I’m afraid I have an emergency problem that needs your attention.”

She finally ran the Police Ministry her way. As of yet, she hadn’t
begun to flush the Chairman’s crowd of sycophants, the backstabbers, out of the key positions. That was going to take time and delicate maneuvering to get rid of them in any number. The backstabbers could always run to Hong or his Lion Guardsman liaison and complain about her. The trick so far was searching for those she could trust. She had Fu Tao and possibly three others. It would be some time before she felt even remotely secure as the Police Minister.

“Very well then,” Hong said, as he began to re-button his black jacket. “Explain the situation.”

She had learned what happened during her three days in solitary. The generals had rebelled. The fall of Harbin had brought about emergency procedures, which unshackled the top military personnel from East Lighting supervision. It had been a crack in the wall of Hong’s citadel of tight-fisted power, but it proved enough for the generals to move. Since then, the Chairman repaired the breach where he could. He wouldn’t be caught like that a second time if he could help it. Of course, the generals also played a subtle game of politics and security. Both sides needed each other. Hong needed the Army to defeat the enemy. The generals needed Hong to give them the supplies and flood of recruits, guerillas, militias and weapons to arm the urban fortresses.

“Well?” Hong asked.
“What is the problem?”

Shun Li cleared her throat. “Leader, my best source in the Indian League leadership says the Prime Minister—Mrs. Gupta—wavers concerning the China Policy. She believes it may be time to trash our agreement and
attack, in that way gaining the majority of Southeast Asia for themselves. I believe the Americans have promised the Indians preferred grain shipments out of Australia.”

“We still firmly hold Australia.”

“I realize that, sir. The Americans promise what they do not have. Haven’t they always been free with other peoples’ territories?”

“Does your source say other
Indians agree with Mrs. Gupta?”

“She appears to be the leading opponent against us.”

Hong sat forward, placing his hands on the desk. He brooded, finally looking up. “What are your recommendations?”

“Normally, I would suggest more detail
ed information from my source and careful briefs written on Gupta and her advisors. We want to be sure of our facts. For instance, maybe our source has a personal grudge against Mrs. Gupta and this is his way of getting back at her.”

Hong sighed. “This is
much too delicate a situation. If we knew it was only the Prime Minister saying this, I would suggest we assassinate her immediately. Still, high-level killings are tricky affairs. If the Indians learned we sanctioned her, they would declare war on us with a vengeance.”

“Yes, Leader.
I realize that.”

“Do you recommend assassination?”

“Normally, I would agree with you, sir, on the delicacy of the mission and possible repercussions. But we are ringed with enemies. We cannot afford the Indian League’s possible strike. I can send my best team tonight.”

I will fill
the team with pro-Hong operatives, who will never survive the mission
.

“You may be right,” Hong said.

“Shall I—”

Hong
raised a hand. “Do not be hasty, Police Minister. I will consider your recommendation. In less than a week, we will unleash our offensive. Once the Indians see our power, watch as the Americans and Russians fall before us… No. Keep the assassin teams here. We will have to hope for the best from her. A few more days shouldn’t make that great a difference.”

“As you wish,
Leader,” Shun Li said, disappointed but trying to keep that out of her voice.

“Was there anything else?”

“No, Leader. Thank you.”

Hong sat back, putting his hands over his stomach as he twirled his thumbs.

Shun Li backed away, bowing several times. Then she turned around and departed. The Army would
attack
the enemy in Manchuria? That sounded more grandiose than she recalled Marshal Kiang suggesting. The Russians and Americans approached Shenyang. Keeping them out of the city and the great industrial basin would be hard enough. To drive the enemy back into Jilin Province and back to Siberia—she believed the Chairman was either bluffing or beginning to live in a dream world of his own devising.

From
Military History: Past to Present
, by Vance Holbrook:

The Invasion of Manchuria, 2042

2042, July 22-August 3. Defense of Shenyang
. Chinese resistance stiffened as Russian and American armies battled through the urban and industrial areas north of Shenyang. Marshal Rostov detached the Third Army from the Russian 7th Army Group in an attempt to swing west of Shenyang, using the Manchurian Plain as a freeway. Marshal Kiang unleashed the Sixteenth and Twenty-first Armies. They were newly mobilized but trained reserves inferior in quality to the Russians, but fresh, untried and grimly determined. As backbone, Kiang added the Twenty-ninth Army composed of veteran overseas units. Chinese armies were half the size of Russian. The Russian Third Army advanced at cost, expending their carefully hoarded stocks of missiles and munitions. By August 3, Third Army called off the Manchurian Plain offensive, still fifteen miles from their objective.

In the center, Russian and Americans forces battled
into the northern suburbs of Shenyang. The first trickle of American reinforcements encouraged the Expeditionary Force’s leadership, but the Russians slowed considerably, expending their artillery supplies instead of driving with their shock troops. During these battles, the Chinese took catastrophic casualties, although many of these were militia and citizen-armed units.

DAOYIZHEN
, LIAONING PROVINCE

Jake had never felt more like an ant than today. What had it been? A lifetime ago, maybe, that he’d ridden across the Trans-Siberian railroad. Now, over two months later and almost down the length of Manchuria, he crawled through Daoyizhen, a suburb of Shenyang. Once, people had called the place Mukden. But times changed and so did city names.

Dust coated the inside of his mouth and his face felt oven-hot
, especially his forehead. Fires raged to his left, some oil refining facility and extra blocks thrown in. Filthy smelling, black smoke funneled up into the sky. It was as if an oil-storm was building to rain acid and gas down on their heads. The sun had taken a vacation several days ago, the same with the stars. Foul smoke that coated his lungs drifted over them like doom.

Jake crawled on his belly through rubble. Mostly, that was Daoyizhen these days
, an alien place reeking of death and destruction. Artillery, missiles and tank shells had knocked down nine-tenths of the buildings and started a hundred fires. A lot of those had guttered out. Some left hills of ash and charred brick. If you dug into those block-sized heaps, you soon found glowing coals that radiated baking heat.

“Send in the infantry!
Let’s make the final push!” The cries rang throughout the US 3rd Army Group. The big boys wanted Shenyang, don’t you know. It would show the Chinese who ran Manchuria, America’s badass soldiers.

Only Jake didn’t feel so tough after months of slogging, shooting, hurting, grunting and killing. Their little outfit had received a few extra warm bodies from the
States. That meant two new men in their squad.

Jake ran it now
. The company captain had bumped him up to sergeant. It meant more responsibilities and headaches. With the two newbies, the squad went from seven to nine grunts, still understrength but better than before.

Rising to his hands and knees, Jake hurried to Chet and
Grant. Grant lay at the edge of the machine gun pit, with a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes. Chet manned the fifty caliber, waiting for the lieutenant’s signal.

Jake squatted beside Chet. Fires raged to his left and a moonscape of rubble and skeleton buildings spread out to his right. Through that slithered two companies of US Marines.
Before them, a stretch of upward-sloping open ground came to a massive factory several city blocks long. It was a castle full of stubborn enemy, a monster place made of heavily reinforced concrete and steel, almost impervious to artillery and missile fire. Sure, there were a couple of gaping holes in those walls. It just gave the Chinese sappers over there something to fire their mortars through—they used them as direct fire weapons now.

If the Marines and US Army could take the Daoyizhen Bulldozer Works, the good guys would essentially have the suburb. Then
it would be time to think about making the final approach on Shenyang. Once they owed old Mukden, they would have the last provincial capital of Manchuria. Then the gateway to Beijing would magically open and the Russians would sow on a new pair of balls, and they could finish this war for good.

“I don’t see no one,”
Grant said.

“They’re there,” Chet said.
With his elbow, he nudged Jake. “You know, long ago when I lived at home, I used to hunt rabbits.”

Grant
lowered his binoculars, glancing back.

“Yup,” Chet said, getting a faraway look. “I had a pellet gun
in those days, not this beauty. You grabbed the barrel and pushed, cranking it once to load it with air. Then I’d slip in a little pellet and snap the barrel shut. I roamed by dad’s place. It was in southern California. I remember hunting those sneaky rabbits. They bred like flies and ate everything. The rabbits loved a big gully, the border of my dad’s land. Beyond the gully was a vast cactus plant, two, three hundred feet long.”