First Rank Lu Po was bitter. After destroying two American carriers in San Francisco Harbor, he’d expected to return to China to a hero’s welcome. Instead, he presently donned a wetsuit, ready to join the team going ashore tonight. They were supposed to take out several observation posts along an Alaskan beach in the Kenai Peninsula.
Closed-circuit cylinders sat beside lockers as eight other Commandos donned wetsuits. They moved around on hard rubber matting, with several bulbs providing light. It was tight quarters in here, with a closed hatch to Lu’s right and another hatch leading to the airlock chamber. The recycled air in the submarine tasted of oil and it left a gummy feeling on his face.
Beside Lu, slender Fighter Rank Wang shoved his leg into a wetsuit. They shared the same bench, and were slightly apart from the others.
Lu and Wang had escaped out of San Francisco Bay on their T-9, the only White Tiger Commandos to make it out alive. Lu had decided against surfacing and killing Wang along the way. The small kung-fu expert had proved himself by knifing one of the East Lightning political officers on the trawler. Lu remembered worrying about finding a Chinese submarine. There had been one on picket duty in the coordinates given them. After they’d boarded, the submarine’s captain had received orders to head north to Alaska.
Instead of a hero’s welcome back home in China, Lu Po and Wang found themselves unceremoniously joining the submarine’s Commando team.
“You will be with us for the duration,” the captain had told him.
That had been four thousand kilometers ago. Now the invasion fleet used its strike-craft to pound military targets all along the southern Alaskan coast. The submarine presently negotiated the entrance to Cook Inlet. The body of water went all the way to Anchorage. Lu had heard one of the submariners say the Americans had mined Cook Inlet, at least the northern half past the town of Kenai. Maybe they’d put a few stray mines way out here, too.
The idea of drowning in a submarine churned within Lu. The good news was the invasion fleet’s aircraft had demolished countless American airbases along the coast, although Lu heard they’d only gotten a few parked planes. Apparently, the Americans had been wise enough to ferry the aircraft farther inland. According to rumors, the carrier-bombers had sunk any ship or sub daring to challenge Chinese naval supremacy. Now came the hard part, however: taking the land.
“I’ve heard every American in Alaska is a deer-slayer,” Wang whispered as he sat on the bench.
Lu shrugged as he glanced at the others. They all seemed self-absorbed, either donning or re-checking their equipment. Leaning near Wang, he whispered, “It is wrong making us take part in this dangerous task.”
“Why do you fear?” whispered Wang. “After destroying two carriers in the middle of an American harbor, this should be easy.”
“Do you think it works like that?” whispered Lu. “We’ve used up our luck surviving San Francisco. Hard task—great luck. So-called easy task like this—bad luck.”
Wang shook his head. “We’re heroes. Heroes always survive. You must cheer up.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” whispered Lu. “We should be home, paraded on TV. A Politburo minister should be handing us our marriage permits. Girls should be lining up for us to inspect them. Now we’re risking our necks after we’ve used up more luck than most people have in a lifetime. It is wrong for them to be doing this to us.”
Wang glanced around at the others. “You must be careful what you say. We’re not on our own anymore. At least, not until they send us ashore.”
Lu nodded. It was good advice. These fellow White Tigers would surely not report on them. However, there could be listening devices as an East Lightning political officer gauged their morale. It would not do if theirs was found wanting.
“If it is girls you desire,” Wang said in a lighter tone, “you may find some sooner than you think in Anchorage.”
Despite his worries, Lu grinned at the idea. He’d thought about girls while trawling through San Francisco Harbor. He’d heard many stories about American women. They were very easy, giving themselves to any man who bought them alcohol.
“I know how we could conquer Alaska in a minute,” Lu said loudly.
The other White Tigers looked up questioningly.
“Tell us,” Wang said.
Lu grinned as he looked from Commando to Commando. “High Command should promise each soldier that he can keep the first girl he captures.”
Several White Tigers laughed. Others nodded. Two appeared thoughtful.
Wang also laughed as he adjusted his weapons belt. “That is an excellent idea. I would race to one of their strip clubs.”
That brought out a few more laughs.
“Yes,” said Lu, liking his idea the more he thought about it. “I would make my captured girls twirl around a dancing pole. I’d watch with a gun held in my hand as I drank American whiskey. I would tell them I’d shoot the worst dancer. Then those easy American girls would twirl around the dance pole for me, trying their hardest to please me. The one that pleased me the most, I would mount her there to test her quality.”
“Why don’t the leaders think of things like that?” shouted a White Tiger.
Lu shrugged as he headed for the hatch. “Maybe they have. Maybe that’s why we’re invading Alaska. China lacks women. Now we shall use our excess young men to grab the prettiest women in the world, starting here.”
“To victory!” shouted Wang.
“To victory and much American tail!” shouted Lu.
The rest of the White Tigers roared approval. Then as a group, they headed for the airlock.
Kicking through the frigid water wearied Lu. His face quickly became numb. This was nothing like San Francisco. Crawling onto the snowy gravel shore was a relief. In the darkness beside him, Wang looked like a watery monster with a grotesquely humped back.
Other White Tigers emerged from the frigid waters. It seemed to Lu that it would have been wiser to attack Alaska in the summer.
Evergreen pines abounded, with boulders, ice and snow making a treacherous beach. They were to seek out and destroy American observation posts. The main invasion would occur to the south, but they were here to spread confusion among the Americans.
“Hurry,” said Lu.
Each of the White Tigers divested himself of his wetsuit. Each then donned a dinylon body-armor suit and a HUD helmet linked to his chosen weapon.
Taking out a computer-scroll, Lu checked his map. The Alaskan State Highway One was up and over the slope. To the south of them was the town of Homer. Lu pointed at the scroll-map to Wang. They were north of Ninilchik but south of the bigger and slightly inland town of Soldotna.
Their briefing had been intense. The Americans used a Militia organization to help them fight. Militiamen often used civilian vehicles and civilian weaponry. Their secondary mission was to destroy patrols. It was felt that every vehicle they encountered would belong to the Militia or the Alaskan National Guard. Once the spotted observation posts were eliminated, they were to destroy vehicles and kill passengers. Spreading confusion and fear would help destabilize the enemy in the invasion areas.
“I hear a vehicle!” shouted a White Tiger.
“Hurry,” said Lu. He charged up the snowy slope, having donned his body-armor and calibrating his weapon with his Heads Up Display faster than most.
Wang hurried beside him. “This is like our training in Siberia.”
Lu grunted. He remembered that grueling time. Fifteen seconds later, he threw himself onto the snow. The highway was below, a thin ribbon of blacktop. He spotted a darkened vehicle. It was an SUV with a heavy machine gun bolted to the top. A man stood behind the gun.