He has good image-makers, Anna realized. I wonder what he’s like in person.
No one introduced her, although several members frowned in her direction. Levin glanced at her once, as if to say, “Don’t worry about a thing, smart girl. You’re here under the President’s wing.”
Anna wondered what would happen to her if she gave advice that proved disastrous. The President’s wing might not stretch so far then. She might be on her own among an increasingly xenophobic group. If the Japanese had actually landed on the U.S. mainland during World War II, what would have happened to all the interned Japanese-Americans?
Under the table, Anna rubbed her shoes together so they rustled. What an unpleasant prospect. Should she hedge her bets? Should she tell the others what they wanted to hear? It would be the safest course. She studied the computer scroll before looking up.
A major was speaking. The woman was one of General Alan’s aides. Using a holopad, the major changed the holoimage in the center of the table. She was running strength figures along the Mexican-American border, the entirety of it, not just in Texas. The enemy had a 1.75 to 1 advantage in numbers. That counted the U.S. Militia brigades. Some were better than others. According to the major, they expected some militia units to crumple upon contact with the enemy.
Can you count soldiers like you would cordwood? Anna didn’t think so.
One of the problems was tanks. The PAA and the SAF in Mexico had a three to one advantage in tanks, and the major said a substantial advantaged in quality, too. That could spell true calamity if the enemy armor broke free in Texas or New Mexico. They might drive for hundreds of miles, creating a gap America could never hope to close, forever dividing the country in two.
“A moment,” the President said. “What about our new Behemoth tanks?”
The major glanced at General Alan.
Alan cleared his throat. “Sir, the Behemoths are experimental, with too many teething problems. It will be six months, maybe nine months to a year before they’re ready for combat.”
“Seeing at what we’re dealing with in Texas, we’re probably not going to have that long.” Sims glanced around the chamber, appearing thoughtful. “I remember the tri-turreted tanks in Alaska, the T-66. They were pure murder. I hate the idea of superior Chinese technology chewing up our boys again. I want those Behemoths in combat.”
“I understand, sir,” Alan said. “I’ll set up a video conference so you can speak to the colonel of the experimental team.”
The President nodded. “Keep talking,” he told the major.
In artillery and mortar tubes, the enemy coalition had a four to one advantage. They were seeing what that meant in and around Laredo. The enemy had already destroyed too many American guns. Towed artillery was nearly useless in these duels, dying soon after firing. It was “shoot and scoot” on the Texas plains.
Once the Germans added their hovers and airmobile brigades, the numbers would skew even more sharply against America. GD aircraft were just as good as the Chinese, their pilots probably better.
We’re like one giant Alamo, Anna realized.
“We need time,” Sims said. “The Chairman didn’t bite on my Geneva offer. I thought for sure he would demand a reinstatement of the food tribute. I could have talked for weeks, gaining us time. I want other ideas from you people.”
Some spoke about a preemptive strike against Mexican railheads, stalling the Chinese buildup against Laredo. Others suggested taking artillery from quiet fronts and massing them and surprising the coming Chinese thrust with a wall of raining steel.
“You can’t take anything from Florida,” the Army Chief of Staff said, a big man with flushed features. He looked like a beer drinker. “For that matter, it would be a damn stupid idea to strip soldiers from Louisiana or Georgia. The Germans are coming. They want revenge for what we did to them in World Wars I and II.”
There came a pause in the conversation. CIA Director Levin cleared his throat. “We have some minority analysis that indicates a possibility that we should consider one disturbing possibility. The Laredo artillery attack and the GD demonstration may be meant as decoys to the real assault.”
General Alan shook his head. “I think you’re being too subtle. Remember, the World War II Germans thought the D-Day Invasion into Normandy was a feint. They held back their reserves, waiting for the real attack to occur. In the end, they waited too long to strike at the beachheads. It seems clear to me what happened in Texas. A Chinese general started shooting too soon. How do you keep control of six million soldiers? Believe me; it’s difficult. Since he started firing, the Chinese are massing sooner than they intended, deciding to push through with the assault.”
“I don’t know about ‘massing’,” the Air Force Chief of Staff said. He was a tall man with a nose like a hawk and a thin mustache, looking like the old French General Charles De Gaulle. “The Chinese are ‘moving’ troops into the sector. I don’t believe they’re moving as many bodies as we’re supposed to think they are.”
“Bah!” General Alan said. “And you believe your drones have spotted everything?”
“Enough to get a picture of what’s happening,” the Air Force General snapped. His name was O’Connor.
“Gentlemen,” the President said, “please. I don’t want pointless bickering. Instead, I would like to address the possibly of a Chinese offensive in California.”
“Sir?” General Alan asked. “The evidence is plain. An offensive has already begun in Texas.”
“I wouldn’t call it an offensive just yet,” the President said. “After years of waiting that’s the best the Chinese can do?”
“It’s very methodical,” Alan said. “It’s chewing up our fortifications and whittling down our artillery at little cost to them, other than a massive expenditure of shells.”
“It’s also giving us time to harden our defenses behind the attacked area,” Sims said. “No, as devastating as it is, the artillery bombardment isn’t a real attack. The Chinese have yet to send in their infantry to take ground. It feels far too much as if they’re orchestrating an attack to fix our attention in Texas.”
“I wonder if the German General Staff had similar arguments about the D-Day Invasion,” Alan said.
Sims scowled at his hands. He sat like that for a time. Finally, looking up, he said, “Ms. Chen, explain to us your reason for your continuously grim reports concerning California.”
Anna’s head snapped up. Everyone looked at her, some with hostility. Steeling herself, she began to speak, telling them what she’d told Director Levin. The spy in Mexico City reported a shutdown of civilian road usage at night in northern Baja to California. It occurred, the spy believed, so the Chinese could move troops and supplies to the border.
General Alan shrugged. “The biggest war in history has started and we’re worried because the Chinese military has closed the roads nearest our border? I expect attacks in California. Yes, we must prepare there. But I’m much more worried about Texas where men are dying. Our reports indicate the Chinese weren’t one hundred percent ready to attack there. Yet they have massed—”