“Fire,” Stan said.
The 120mm smoothbore shot a high explosive round into a giant storage unit. It hit, and a titanic explosion erupted, a fierce roar of sound. Seconds later, the shockwave rocked the tank.
As a fireball climbed into existence, Stan shouted, “Keep firing! We’re going to blow them all!”
Deep underground in White House Bunker Number Five, a weary Anna Chen closed her eyes. The fighting in Anchorage—everyone thought the battle had been lost with the annihilation of the storage depots three days ago. Now Alfredo Diaz had given her another memory chip. That hadn’t been a Chinese strike on the depots as the U.S. military had originally reported. Should she speak up concerning it?
A chair scraped back. Anna opened her eyes. General Alan stood up. For the first time in days, a smile threatened, a ghost of one. It was better than the general’s former worry lines and radiating gloom.
“Mr. President,” General Alan said, “it appears we must revise our estimates. As you know, the lead elements of our Fourth Army in the Yukon were airlifted near the city. They stiffened our beleaguered troops and held on. Now the Fourth Army is through the passes, racing for Anchorage. It is my belief they will arrive before the Chinese can muster another assault.” The general pursed his lips. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but intelligence has evidence that the Chinese supply lines have been stretched to the breaking point. Chinese troops are marching on foot to Anchorage instead of riding trucks or personnel carriers. There are even reconnaissance photos showing twenty or more soldiers per truck dragging the vehicles along the main road.”
“The enemy hasn’t given up the drive then?” the President asked.
“Their artillery tubes are firing a fraction of the number of shells as previously,” the general said. “There is little enemy traffic in and around the city, while the remaining T-66s are now acting as strongpoints, gigantic bunkers for the defense. The Chinese are definitely holding on to what they have…but I think the present assault has stalled.”
“Can the Fourth Army throw them out of Anchorage?” the President asked.
“It’s much too early to think about that, sir. In my opinion, we can think about bottling them in Anchorage and keeping them from spreading out. Once the Fifth Army arrives, then we can begin planning our own offensive, provided the Chinese don’t ship reinforcements from the mainland.”
“Our submarines must concentrate on Chinese troopships,” the President said.
“A few of our subs are already on station, sir. But as I’ve said, there haven’t been any reinforcing troopships yet.”
President Clark nodded thoughtfully.
“May I ask a question, sir?” Anna asked.
“Please,” the President said.
“General,” Anna said, “you spoke about the Chinese dragging supply trunks to the front.”
“We have evidence of that, yes.”
“Would you say then that they’ve run out of fuel?”
“That’s an imprecise term,” General Alan said, “but I understand your meaning. Given the evidence, it seems a logical but surprising conclusion.”
Anna gathered her resolve as she said, “It would seem then that the Chinese could have used Anchorage’s storage depots, if they had captured them.”
General Alan blinked at her. “I can’t believe Chinese strategy rested on the capture of enemy depots. The initial success of their invasion shows a high level of planning and executive ability. Resting an offensive on the capture of enemy supplies—I simply can’t believe that was their plan. This is modern war, not some ancient raiding expedition.”
“What is your point, Ms. Chen?” the President asked.
“Sir,” Anna said. “We have been told the Chinese destroyed the Anchorage depots. Yet I’ve heard reports about a National Guard tank captain. On his own initiative, he blew the oil depots, not the Chinese.”
“Where did you hear about this?” General Alan asked sharply.
“Is this true?” the President asked. “What would possess one of our own soldiers to do such a thing?”
“The captain believed the Chinese were low on fuel and that they needed more,” Anna said. “It’s why the T-66s were headed for the depots.”
“That’s a supposition,” General Alan said.
Anna smiled. “The Chinese are dragging their supply trucks to the front, meaning the captain guessed correctly. I believe his action saved Anchorage.”
“Who are you talking about?” the President asked.
Anna stared at the general, so did everyone else in the chamber.
General Alan slowly shook his head. “A Captain Stan Higgins attacked our storage depots in Anchorage, sir. He injured a dozen Army soldiers doing it. As Ms. Chen has stated, he blew up the fuel tanks. What I’d like to know,” he said, turning toward Anna, “is how you learned of this.”
Anna faced the President. “Captain Higgins attempted to talk General Sims into destroying the storage units. Sims refused and now the captain and his crew are under arrest for treason. Yet by the evidence, the captain guessed right and likely saved Anchorage for us.”
“Is this true?” Clark asked General Alan. “Did a National Guard captain destroy the depots?”
The general hesitated before he said, “Yes, sir. It’s true.”
The President frowned. “The Chinese are dragging their trucks. What would have happened if they had captured our storage facilities intact?”
“It’s hard to say, sir,” General Alan replied.
“No it isn’t,” Anna said. “Reconnaissance has shown us more Chinese troops and more munitions in the Kenai Peninsula. Our defense barely held. I think it’s clear the Chinese would have taken all of Anchorage and possibly raced to the passes to halt the Fourth Army there. Because they ran out of fuel, the Chinese bogged down at precisely the wrong time for them.”
The President eyed the general. Then he glanced at Anna. Finally, Clark sat back, drumming his fingers on the conference table. “I pardon the captain, if he needs it. And I pardon his tank crew. Then I want him in Washington.”
“Sir?” asked General Alan.
“The man deserves the Congressional Medal of Honor for what he did.”
“But sir—”
“That’s an order,” the President said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we’re going to think this through. We’ve stopped the Chinese in the south, and he’s holed in at Dead Horse in the north.” The President examined his people. “The priority is South Central Alaska. I want the Chinese driven into the sea.”
“That will likely take a bloody battle, sir,” General Alan said.
“Bloody or not,” Clark said, “I want this invasion army destroyed, and it looks like we’re soon going to get our chance.”
Jian Hong, Minister without Portfolio, glanced at the other Ruling Committee members waiting on the Chairman. Admiral Qiang of the Navy looked weary, while Police Minister Xiao seemed positively frightened. Xiao had lost weight, giving his face a skeletal look. The marshal, the Army Minister, sat as stiffly as ever, although a tic had begun under his right eye. Only Deng Fong seemed the same, the same miserable intriguer with his secretive cunning.
The door opened and the Chairman’s wheelchair moved across the carpeted floor. He stopped at the head of the table. A medical tube from the box in the back of the chair to the Chairman’s side made an odd gurgling noise. A blue clot made its way out of the Chairman and to the box.
Jian suppressed a shudder of loathing. The old man should be dead by now. Only advanced medicines kept him alive.