A soldier advanced, pointing his pistol at Dan’s head. Dan slowly unbuttoned and unzipped the front of his chemical suit and peeled it back to reveal the American flag patch on his BDUs.
The soldier spoke to him in near-perfect English from behind his protective mask, “Put your mask on. There has been a chemical attack.” He turned to the other soldiers and spoke in Chinese. Dan heard the sound of muffled cheers through 20 protective masks. The soldier turned back to Dan, “You have arrived quicker than we hoped. Thank you for coming to help us defend our freedoms.”
Colonel Flint watched the air situation display as the east and west moving masses of blips moved relentlessly towards one another. Just as the two masses appeared poised to merge, blips began to disappear from the leading edge of the east-moving masses. Colonel Flint watched with satisfaction as the mainly U.S.-equipped ROC air force tore into its larger but antiquated counterpart. At this kill rate, he smiled to himself, the air war will soon be over.
His equanimity froze into anxiety as he noticed a very rapidly moving radar return well to the south of the ongoing dogfight. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, pointing at the flashing symbol.
“Sir,” came the voice of young radar operator. “That’s a ballistic missile. I’m running a trajectory on it. It should clear Taiwan more than 150 miles up and land near Philippine territorial waters about 50 miles north of Luzon.”
“That ought to win friends and influence enemies,” Colonel Flint observed dryly.
Major Ramirez showed up at his left elbow. “What’s up, sir?”
“You tell me, Rez,” Colonel Flint half-whispered in his intelligence officer’s ear. “Those are Chinese aircraft,” he said, gesturing at the air situation display. “Those are Taiwanese aircraft. And that blinking SOB is a ballistic missile that the Chinese are lobbing over Taiwan. But it won’t even come close. It will splash down north of Luzon Island. Are Chinese missiles that inaccurate?”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Colonel Ramirez’ mind was racing. “You wanted the birds warmed up, right?”
“Yes…”
“We’ve got to shut them down — right now!” Ramirez was sure of himself: bet your rank on it sure. “That missile is carrying a nuke. The Chinese are going to explode it over Taiwan. Shut down everything we have and disconnect the antennas.”
Colonel Flint was on the hook to his aviation combat element before his intelligence officer had finished speaking. “Shut down immediately and secure for nuclear attack!”
“What about the ships, sir?” Ramirez knew the difficulty of that question. A Marine convincing a naval officer to turn off his vital electronics within 60 seconds was a stretch, but he knew his colonel would have to give it a try.
Colonel Flint spoke in a machine gun staccato. “Rez, you speak to the CIC OIC. I’ll call the Captain.” His finger was already punching the Captain’s number. Precious seconds ticked away as he waited for someone to find the Captain.
“Colonel Flint here. We are about to receive a nuclear attack. We have to secure all ship’s electronics…”
At that instant the missile reached its apogee high in the sky over southern Taiwan. The Captain’s answer was drowned in a large crack of static, and the phone receiver in Flint’s hand went dead. The radar screen briefly flashed white and then went black. The ship’s lights wavered and went out, replaced by ghostly glow of emergency lighting. The radiomen tore off their headphones, cursing loudly and holding their ears in pain. “What in the h-e-l-l was that?” someone exclaimed.
Colonel Flint didn’t exactly know, but he had a very bad feeling. A standard nuclear weapon would have produced a noise and a shock wave, but the only sound in the Combat Information Center had been a loud electrical pop. And the ship had not been hit by a concussion, at least one he could feel. “Rez?” he said questioningly.
“It was a nuke all right,” his intelligence officer said quietly. “but, judging by where it detonated, one designed to channel all its energy into a giant electro-magnetic pulse. I’m betting that every radar and radio receiver on board has been blown out, at least those that were on.”
So the Chinese had actually used a nuke in combat. The thought made his blood run cold. The Cold War, with its bluff and bluster and brinksmanship, suddenly seemed like child’s play in comparison. Get a grip, Flint, he told himself.
“Rez, get to the Captain, tell him what happened, and that the MEU is preparing to disembark. Then assemble the A Command team and meet me on the deck. Let’s wing out of here before the Chinese draw a bead on one of these deaf, dumb, and blind sitting ducks.”
Colonel Flint was not far off the mark in his assessment. The four ships of the flotilla were blind and deaf, if not completely dumb. Every radar and radio receiver not turned off or disconnected was damaged by the massive electro-magnetic shock wave. Most of their computer systems, hardened at great cost to withstand just such an attack, survived. A fair amount of electrical wiring was burned through, however, and anything attached to an antenna was toast. The chaotic nature of the destruction would make repairs very challenging.
“Jeff, how did the birds come through the attack?” Colonel Flint was addressing his ACE commander, Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson.
Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson looked grave. “Sir, every radio receiver still connected and on during the burst is burned out — we’re still checking those we managed to take down just before the attack. Navigational gear is mostly gone too, except for the inertial systems and the compasses. The engines are functional. We had just enough time to shut down and switch off before the pulse hit us.”
“So the Harriers and the helos will fly?”
“Yes, Colonel. We have wings, but I wouldn’t want to fly at night or for long distances over water.”
“We’re only 12 miles from friendly territory, Jeff. The ROC forces know that we’re here doing exercises, and won’t fire upon us, I hope.”
“Yes, Colonel,” Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson nodded. “But what about those other guys?” He gestured west.
“I don’t intend to be here when they come back,” Colonel Flint said evenly. “Make sure at least one Harrier has a functioning radio, then launch her on a recon flight. I want the pilot to check on our pre-selected landing sites around the port and airport and report back.” He turned to go, then said over his shoulder. “And, Jeff, grab enough stores to repair the other receivers and weapons systems of the Cobras and Harriers once we get ashore.”
“Already started, sir!”
“I knew there was a reason you were the only rotor-head I loved!”
Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson flashed a broad, toothy grin and turned, yelling orders. A few seconds later the catapult whooshed, and a Harrier leapt into the sky.
Colonel Flint heard Rez’s familiar voice clearing behind him. “Sir, we’re in a pickle. All the radar and ship self-defense systems have been knocked off line. The Curtis Wilbur has some spare components for its CIWS and is trying to get one back to on line, but the amphibians are hurting. Hell, the Dubuque was down to one CIWS for lack of spare parts prior to the attack. Sir, we’re like newborn puppies out here.”