“Ms. Chen,” the Secretary of State said. “How do you think the Chairman would view such an attack?”
“Sir?” she whispered.
“Would the Chairman respond with a strategic nuclear attack on our heartland?” the Secretary of State asked, “Or would he accept our strike as one of the prices of battle?”
“It is hard to know,” Anna said carefully. Then she was aware of every eye focused on her. It was at that moment she truly realized that she had become the Chairman expert. It’s why she was here. “Yes…there is a possibility he would launch a strike at our heartland, as you say.”
“A possibility,” the Defense Secretary said. “It’s a gamble then, not a foregone conclusion. Sir,” he told the President, “I think this is a gamble worth taking.”
“Are the seven carriers bunched together?” the Secretary of State asked.
“As you know,” General Alan said, “we’ve used high-level flights and recon drones to try to pinpoint their position. The Chinese keep shooting those down and shifting their ships.” He looked up. “It’s almost as if they expect a nuclear attack.”
“Mr. President,” Anna said, “could I interject a point?”
“Please do, Ms. Chen.”
“I believe the Chairman would think along conventional Chinese lines concerning nuclear weapons. Ever since Chairman’s Mao’s time, they have believed—or they have stated—that China will win any nuclear exchange.”
“We’re all familiar with the statement,” the Defense Secretary said. “But that’s not the point here. We’re not talking about firing at China, but at her fleet, the one the Chairman used to stab us in the back. Do we let them grab Alaska, or do we use our nuclear missiles to stop them?”
“And risk ending the world,” the Secretary of State said.
“If you want to be melodramatic about it,” the Defense Secretary said. “But then why did we build the ICBMs if we’re not going to use them?”
“Mr. President,” Anna said, “I’m beginning to suspect the Chairman and his advisors would think much like the Defense Secretary. Great men in power follow similar lines of logic.”
The Defense Secretary became somber as he eyed Anna.
“Can you clarify that?” the President asked.
Anna nodded. “If we destroyed their fleet through a full-scale ICBM attack, I think they would strike our military bases with a retaliatory strike.”
“Those bases now all lie within America,” the Secretary of State said.
“But they’re invading our country!” shouted the Defense Secretary. “How could they dare be upset at us for destroying their invasion force?”
“If I may interject one more point,” Anna said. “I think you should notice that they have refrained from using nuclear weapons. I believe that is critical.”
“They don’t need to use them,” the Defense Secretary said. “They’re winning.”
“No,” the President said, as he looked at Anna. “No nuclear weapons. The Chinese have not used them. We will not use them. I will not begin World War Three, the last war with a nuclear exchange. We must stop the Chinese, but we must figure out a way to do it with conventional arms.” He checked his watch. “We’ll take another short break. Then we will meet again and figure out some means to increase our odds of victory.”
The air wings from the seven Chinese carriers would have established air superiority over Alaska but for two key elements: defensive lasers and massed SAM sites providing safe havens for the American pilots.
First, there were the strategic ABM laser stations. The nearest was at Talkeetna, in the Denali National Park, well north of Anchorage. It protected the city from direct Chinese air assaults. There were also two mobile laser batteries ringing Anchorage airport. They were small, tactical weapons as compared to the giant pulse-laser near Talkeetna. Wyvern Surface-to-Air Missiles together with radar-guided antiaircraft guns helped create safe pockets and air corridors lethal to any Chinese fighters and bombers. The combination gave American fighter pilots a sanctuary, a base from which to launch sudden raids on the enemy. Afterward, they darted back into safety.
This morning, C-in-C Sims of the Alaskan fronts practiced a bolder plan. The Army needed numbers and they needed more professionals at the Kenai Front now. Therefore, Sims was racing an advance company of a quick-deployment battalion of U.S. Army Rangers into Anchorage. It was a risk, as the company and some supplies rode on three Boeing 747s. They had left Oregon and gone deeply inland over the Yukon, and presently flew for the metropolitan airport. Sims wondered what the Chinese were going to do about it. He was hoping nothing, but he doubted it.
The 747s neared the end of their journey: Anchorage airport. They flew alone and the sky was clear. High above Anchorage and out of visual sight were F-35s on combat patrol, ready for anything. An AWACS out of Fairbanks now warned Sims and his Air Chief of Chinese fighters approaching the city, although the Chinese were still fifty kilometers away.
“They’ve seen the Boeings,” Sims said.
“The enemy fighters are increasing speed,” the AWACS controller said. “It looks like they’re going to try to loop around the city. I think they want those Boeings, sir.”
Sims watched a screen in his command post bunker as he calculated odds. Should he order the 747s to break off and head for Fairbanks? The Army needed those Rangers at the front. He also needed all the air-transports he could cobble together. He couldn’t afford to lose any.
“Tell the 747s to hit the deck,” Sims said. “Tell them to race in and get near the airport’s lasers as fast as they can.”
The Air Chief relayed the order and sent the F-35s into action. They roared from their great height and out of the sanctuary of Anchorage, darting to intercept the Chinese.
More than two hundred kilometers away from the Chinese fighters, the lumbering transports banked hard.
The F-35 pilots were good, and they had the advantage of height. They traded it for speed. As more F-35s scrambled on the runways, the original fighters reached interception range and hunted for Chinese J-25 Mongooses, air superiority fighters.
Switching on their radars, the American pilots scanned the skies. Unfortunately, the Chinese used advanced jamming equipment. The F-35 radar ranges were cut in half by the jamming. As yet, they were unable to track any targets.
The F-35s kept boring toward the enemy. Finally, their radar began to burn through enemy jamming. Then their threat receivers growled, telling them enemy radar was locked onto their aircraft. Almost immediately, Chinese air-to-air missiles arrived. An F-35 exploded. The others jinked hard: to the side, up, down—a six-inch wide missile roared past a fighter. Other missiles found their targets, hard kills as the destroyed F-35s rained metallic parts.
Three American pilots refused to let it go. They swerved back onto an intercept course. The radar locked onto individual Mongooses. American missiles launched, zooming in the direction of the oncoming Chinese. Then more Chinese air-to-air missiles arrived, and another F-35 exploded.
“Keep attacking!” the Air Chief radioed. “Engage them. Keep them from the transports.”
The last two pilots kept going, seeking visual range. They would use their cannons. They never made it as Chinese missiles killed one and damaged the other, forcing the pilot to turn for home. Though the Americans didn’t know it, their air-to-air missiles had killed one of the Mongooses.
Using afterburners, the rest of the Chinese fighters now swung around Anchorage. They had a healthy respect for the laser batteries. The fighters swung to the south of Anchorage, thereby giving themselves more range from the Talkeetna pulse-laser than if they’d gone to the north.