“They’re trying to burn us up in close-quarters combat,” General Cunningham said grimly. “Prime Minister, we might have to abandon Basra and fall back into open territory.”
“The King has already fled to Arabia,” Stirling said. “In the air, the Soviets have taken serious losses, but there’s so many of them. We’ve lost seven Harriers and one Jaguar, although we’re not sure what happened to that one. It may not be possible to withdraw from Basra, and if we tried, we’d risk a panic in the Iraqi ranks.”
Hanover scowled. “What exactly do we have in the city?”
“We have the better part of an infantry brigade, equipped with anti-tank weapons, and a scratch force equipped with anti-aircraft weapons,” Stirling said. “As you know, the Iraqis insisted that they defend the city using our weapons, which, to be fair, they are doing a good job.”
“Prime Minister, if we put the troops in, they’ll be burned away,” General Cunningham said grimly.
“We won’t put more troops in the city,” Hanover said, who’d been thinking very rapidly. “Has there been any movement from the Germans or the Baghdad front?”
“None, sir,” Stirling said. “It’s weird; there’s a war going on in the south and the north is quiet. It’s like they want us to fight it out in Basra.”
“They do,” Hanover said. “Up there is perfect tank terrain; our advantages come to the fore. Who said that the Soviets were stupid?”
“They want us to commit to holding Basra at all costs,” Cunningham said slowly. “In a week, we could have fed upwards of ten thousand troops into a city where all their advantages are minimised. Then they move forward and stab us in the heart.”
“So… we don’t play their game,” Hanover said. “Options?”
Cunningham glared up at the map. He’d become a general when battles were planned out stage by stage. Still, he’d shown a talent for off-the-cuff improvisation and it was a British military trait. The original battle for Basra had been a cakewalk, even though both MI6 and the CIA hadn’t understood the real lurking dangers.
“We have two options,” he said thoughtfully. “The first one is that we withdraw from Basra, along with whatever Iraqi units will come with us, and set up a defence line north of Kuwait. Combined with the hammering we’re giving their airfields, we can hold them there and break them.”
Noreen Adam coughed delicately. Hanover smiled; Eisenhower had been puzzled to see a woman wrapped in a black headscarf. “What’s to stop them launching an attack across the channel?”
“The entire Iranian Navy, more or less, escaped before their ports fell,” Cunningham said. “We have it now, based in Arabia. They would need a major fleet to launch such an attempt and we’ve seen no signs that they have one.”
He looked across at Hanover. “The second option is different,” he said. “We can launch an offensive of our own at the Soviet forces near Baghdad. The terrain isn’t that bad for tanks, so we could do it… except that would wake them up for certain. We might end up being faced with two bleeding sores, instead of one.”
Hanover scowled. Whoever was in command of the Russian forces knew what they were doing. “Have we been jamming their radios?”
Cunningham scowled. It was a sore subject; the PJHQ had originally decided that that ability would be best kept under wraps until an invasion of Germany itself could be mounted, but the desperate battles around Abadan had forced General Flynn to order it deployed… stopping the Soviet attack in its tracks.
“Yes, Prime Minister,” he said finally. “Unfortunately, they’re showing much better tactical abilities than they were five months ago. We fucked up their radios but good in the battles near Kuwait, but they kept coming anyway.”
Hanover nodded. “I think we’d better stick with option one,” he said. “After all, we might just have jammed up the signal to attack. Tell Air Commodore Cromwell that he is to keep some Jaguars on reserve; if the Soviet divisions move, they’re to be stamped on as hard as possible.”
“Yes, Prime Minister,” Cunningham said. “The FAE weapons worked as advertised.”
Armin Prushank, the Minister for War Production, spoke in his dry-as-dust voice. “Production of the weapons should continue to increase,” he said. “Priority will be to send them to the Middle East.”
“Unfortunately, they might also be needed in Australia,” Admiral Joan Grisham said. She smiled wryly at the map. “The Japanese are preparing an offensive.”
Hanover scowled. “They’re doing it to us again,” he snapped. “Hitting us everywhere at once.”
“They’ve screwed up the coordination this time,” Grisham said. “However, we do have a problem in Australia. You see… we had a lucky accident and caught a Japanese courier ship.”
Hanover smiled faintly. “Does that make up for the lost sub?”
“Not really, but at least we now know what they have in mind,” Grisham said. “They’re going to jump on Australia.”
“They’re out of their tiny minds,” Stirling breathed. “A third of the Royal Navy is there.”
Grisham nodded. “The production of SSKs is coming along well,” she said. “By early next year, we can put an end to the Empire of Japan. This is their last throw of the dice, Prime Minister, and they’re going to put everything into it. The reports from Burma suggest that they’re building up there as well, as well as the… program in China.”
Hanover made a face. The Japanese seemed to be moving to China en mass, forcing the Chinese out of their cities and away from the countryside. It was bad enough with the diseases rampaging through China – and Hanover knew that Porton Down harboured suspicions about the origins of the diseases – but with the Japanese moving in as if the Chinese were intruders in their own homes…
“The linchpin of the defence is the fleet,” Grisham said. “The Japanese plan is simple; the remains of the Combined Fleet will sortie towards Canada. If they reach Canada, they will attack Vancouver and the RCN ships based nearby.”
Cunningham frowned. “I’m no naval man,” he said, “but they must know they’ll be seen.”
“That’s the point,” Grisham said. “The idea is that we’ll send the Royal Navy after them, seek a battle like the last one. While we’re sinking the Combined Fleet, the invasion force is landing.”
Hanover scowled. “They don’t stand a chance,” he said. “They must know that.”
Grisham nodded. “Admiral Turtledove took the liberty of devising a plan,” she said. Hanover scowled; the Admiral was something of a sore spot. “It’s one that will allow us to have our cake and eat it as well.”
She explained quickly. Hanover felt his mouth fall open. “Is he quite mad?” He demanded. “That would be…”
“It would work,” Grisham said. “In fact, it would work in our favour in the long run.”
Hanover gazed up at the map. It had been something he had been dreading, and Turtledove’s plan would solve one nasty problem. Still, if word got out… and with the American in the room, doing it under the table would be impossible.
“I’ll consult with Prime Minister Menzies and General Blamey,” Hanover said. “If they approve, then this mad plan can go ahead. If they disapprove, then we can send some submarines north and put the Japanese off the mad plan for good.”
Sicily
Italian Territory
10th May 1041
The toe of Italian territory had almost been stripped of Italians, particularly after learning of the role that various mafia factions would play in later battles, leaving only a token defence force of Italians, stiffened by Germans that would be more than willing to shoot the Italians in the back if they stepped out of line. As a result, the Germans were able to operate almost unwatched, except for the ever-present recon drones floating high overhead.