“The main issue is that over the last four days, we’ve seen a significant drop in data being transmitted by the UAVs. At first it was just a few dozen, then it became entire cities and parts of a province. I initially thought it was related to the Allies shooting down more of their UAVs; however, when I looked at the number of Y’ans operating in the area, I didn’t see a noticeable difference. I just saw that they were no longer transmitting data to us like before.”
“So you think they’re on to us?” Kate asked.
Tyler nodded. “I do. I think they’ve figured out what we were doing and are bringing the drones down as fast as they can to swap out the affected component.”
“Crap,” Kate exclaimed. “If that’s the case, then we need to let the White House know. We need to work with State and get President Hung’s message pumped out across whatever Y’ans we still have access to before they’ve completely cut us out of the network.”
She immediately reached for her SIPR Tandberg. It rang a few times before Tom McMillan picked up. The image of his office came into view as he got up to close his office door. Turning to look at her and Tyler, he said, “I suppose it’s serious if you’re calling me on this thing.”
She nodded. She filled Tom in on what Tyler had just told her, then concluded, “If you guys still want to hit the PLA with President Hung’s social media messages, now’s the time. We’re probably going to lose our access within a week, maybe two tops.”
Tom let out an audible sigh but nodded. “OK,” he said stoically. “I’d hoped we’d be able to maintain this edge a little longer, but I guess we’ll have to go for it. Let me go brief the President and the Secretary of State. I’ll get back with you later.” Then he disconnected the call.
Kate turned to Tyler. “Get the team ready to disseminate the video, just like we rehearsed,” she ordered. “I have a feeling the PLA is going to cut the cord to the program entirely once this message goes live. Then they’ll know for sure we’re inside their system.”
Chapter 26
Battle for Lingyuan
The hangar felt cold and damp, but at least there wasn’t any wind. “Hurry up and grab your gear!” shouted Staff Sergeant Jose Sanchez, the platoon sergeant. “When the helicopters show up, I want everyone to run out to our bird and get on. No lollygagging!”
Private Liam Miller turned to Corporal Webster. “Have you ever ridden in one of these new helicopters before?” he asked.
Webster shook his head. “No, this’ll be a first for me,” he admitted.
Specialist Nathan Ryle, who’d overheard their conversation, interjected, “I rode in one once. When I caught a ride back to the unit from the hospital. They’re super-fast.”
Since getting shot and returning to the unit, Nathan had lost the attitude problem he’d had at the start of their deployment and had finally started to fit in with the platoon. It was like his brush with death had suddenly given him a reason to live, and he found he’d have a better chance of surviving the war if he wasn’t such a jerk to the other guys in his unit. Maybe he was also grateful for how they’d helped save his life by risking death to get him to a medevac.
Captain Joel Garcia walked up to the group. “Listen up, guys!” he announced. “The helicopters will be arriving soon. When they do, we’re going to pile in. It’s about forty minutes to the target. Once on the ground, we’re to dig in and hold the area until the main body of the ROK 16th Mechanized Brigade and the 1/8 Cav arrive.” As he spoke, he continued to walk back and forth in front of the company, going over their objective for what must have been the tenth time that morning.
The captain paused for a second, surveying the men and women before him as they stood in loose formation, waiting for their ride. “I know I’ve said this all before,” said Garcia. “This is going to be a tough fight, men — but we’re going to end this war. Remember your training, listen to your officers and NCOs, and we’ll get through this. Golden Dragons, lead the way!” When he shouted the battalion motto, it forced everyone to shout it right back at him.
Once the captain turned to go talk to some of the battalion brass, Staff Sergeant Martinez snorted. “He must be auditioning for his next promotion,” he said in a hushed tone. Lieutenant Fallon chuckled at his comment.
The captain was a decent guy. When his company had found a way inside the mountain that formed the Jinzhou-Fuxin Line, the Allies had found their way to break through the PLA fortress. Martinez, Fallon and a handful of other soldiers in their platoon had been awarded Silver Stars for finding the entrance and emerging victorious in the fight that had ensued, but their captain had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. Ever since then, he seemed to feel that he was on the verge of being promoted to take over command of the battalion.
However, after that major battle, their brigade had been pulled from the line for a couple of months of R&R and occupation duty while replacement soldiers were filtered in to bring them back to 100 % strength. With no major battles or combat losses, promotions within the brigade remained low, and he hadn’t gotten his major’s oakleaves.
A few minutes later, the soldiers of 2-14 Infantry heard the familiar rhythmic thumping sound of helicopter blades getting closer. Turning their attention to the open hangar doors, they spotted a squadron of the army’s newest aviation member, the Bell V-280 Valor. The tiltrotor helicopter flared its nose up slightly and then settled into a soft touchdown on the parking pad a hundred meters in front of the hangar.
“First Platoon, follow me!” shouted one of the lieutenants. This call was quickly followed by similar orders from the rest of the platoon leaders.
Corporal Shane Webster seemed to be geeking out a bit. “This helicopter is so cool looking!” he told whoever could hear him. “It’s like something from a sci-fi movie.”
The other soldiers chuckled. They were probably thinking the same thing, but they just kept it inside. In short order, they had all strapped themselves into the six-point harnesses. Moments later, the helicopter lifted off and went into its holding pattern, out of the way, so other helicopters could land and load up their human cargo as well. With a battalion-level insertion, the sky was practically a swarm of choppers.
In addition to the V-280s, a squadron of AH-64 Apache gunships were tagging along to help provide any immediate ground support the battalion may need. Ten minutes went by with them circling the airbase, and then the air armada turned as a group and headed for their objective.
The flight to their objective was relatively uneventful. They avoided flying over most of the front lines, opting for a flight path that took them over more of the mountainous terrain to the north.
“If there wasn’t a war going on, this would be a beautiful helicopter ride,” thought Corporal Webster. Then he looked back around him and was reminded bluntly that this was not a scenic tour; the soldiers surrounding him were all fully weighed down with the tools of war, ready to unleash the awesome and terrifying military power strapped to their bodies.
“We’re approaching the target!” yelled one of the door gunners. From his tone, it was obvious that they weren’t sticking around any longer than absolutely necessary.
While they made their approach, the tiltrotor shifted its position to allow the helicopter to hover and land — airplane mode was no longer needed. When the nose of the Valor flared up, it bled off their airspeed immensely, enabling them to make a soft yet quick landing. Once on the ground, the crew chiefs and sergeant yelled at everyone, “Get out and move away from the helicopter!”