Jake shook his head.
“Dead,” Goose said.
“It’s too bad about Barnes,” the Lieutenant said. “He was a good American.” He studied them. “You two did good work.” The man turned to go.
Jake’s mouth seemed to come alive. “Still think I’m a coward?”
The Lieutenant stopped, and slowly, he faced Jake.
Jake expected rage. He wondered if the Lieutenant would haul off and hit him. Instead, the wide face looked calm. The eyes regarded him and the Lieutenant reached toward him.
Jake didn’t move, but he was ready for anything.
The Lieutenant flicked a finger against the Chinese body armor, tapping it with a fingernail. “That was a good idea, Corporal.”
“This one is mine,” Jake said belligerently.
There was a flash in the Lieutenant’s eyes. Jake’s stomach muscles tightened. A second passed. Then the tiniest of grins touched the Lieutenant’s mouth.
“You ever play football, Corporal?” the Lieutenant asked.
The question surprised Jake. “No. I played hockey. I grew up in Alaska.”
“Hockey is a man’s sport,” the Lieutenant said. “Did your coach ever fire you up so you’d skate through a brick wall to defeat the opposing side?”
Jake got it then. It made him squint at the man. The bastard had played him. He couldn’t believe it.
The Lieutenant flicked the body armor a second time. “You earned this one. It’s yours, Sergeant.”
“Sergeant?” Jake asked.
“I’m promoting you. You’re going to be in charge of our sewer squad.”
Jake could only blink.
“Get some sleep,” the Lieutenant said, “and think about the sewers down there and how to beat the enemy when he comes crawling to take us out. This fight is far from over.”
Marshal Liang sat before a computer screen in his study. Under the desk, he soaked his feet in hot water. They had been aching lately. The heat felt good and allowed him to move his toes.
He awaited a call from Chairman Hong. The events of the past few weeks had not gone as planned.
Liang tapped the screen, putting up an operational map. Army Group B had taken Greeley and broken through the South Platte Defense Line all the way to Sterling. Zhen’s Tank Army drove for Cheyenne, Wyoming, but at a snail’s pace compared to the summer battles. The Americans were tougher now. Worse, the SAF First Front had only now reached the Platte River in Nebraska. As Liang had predicted, the Americans had turned the river position into a fortress line. The SAF attack had already stalled.
“Prepare to speak to the Leader,” an operator said.
Liang tapped the screen. Chairman Hong’s Polar Bear symbol appeared. A moment later, Jian Hong regarded him. The Leader’s eyes were red, and he looked angry. That was a bad sign.
“Marshal Liang, this is a pleasure,” Hong said abruptly.
Liang bowed his head reverently. He didn’t like the tightening of his chest. “The pleasure is mine, Leader. This a great honor.”
Hong closed his eyes and nodded in a manner that revealed he understood the honor he did Liang. When Hong opened his eyes, his manner resumed its hostility.
“I am not pleased with Third Front,” Hong began.
“I am grieved to hear this,” Liang said. He recalled stories about Hong’s displeasure with men who failed to accept reprimands. Maybe he could nip the Leader’s anger in the bud. “I am sure the fault lies with me,” he added.
“This I already know,” Hong said.
Liang paused, as the tightening of his chest worsened. In the past, it had always been tedious and dangerous speaking with Chairman Hong. Now…he felt growing alarm. Hong had never spoken to him like this before. And why were the Chairman’s eyes so red?
“I set a task for you, Marshal. I’m speaking about the capture of the Behemoth Tank Manufacturing Plant. The city still resists your arms. Until this moment, the Americans have not been able to hold onto a defensive position for so long.”
“Throughout the campaign,” Liang said, “the Americans have become increasingly stubborn. Here, they fight as men possessed.”
“Bah,” Hong said. “They are barbarians without soul. A cornered rat will fight if the cat or dog doesn’t lunge in fast enough. In Denver, you have failed to strike with speed. You must treat the Americans like rats. Do they not hide in the ruins and rubble like rodents? Why have you not closed your jaws on their necks and shaken them to death?”
“You speak wisdom, Leader. I thank you for it. Yet if I may, I would like to point out that Greater Denver is much like Los Angeles. It is a large, urban environment and—”
“No,” Hong said quietly but with menace. “You must strike hard and fast. Did I not just tell you how to defeat these rats? Many years ago, I had to tell Marshal Nung how to properly conduct his North Shore Alaskan assault. It is my lot to see these military problems with a sharper eye than my top commanders.”
“Your wisdom is the sun to our actions,” Liang said.
“The Behemoths thwarted Chinese arms once in Los Angeles and once again with our air assault here along I-70. I will not allow these hideous tanks to stop us a third time. Therefore, you will capture the plant or stamp it out of existence.”
“Leader, if I could make an observation about the Behemoths?”
“Speak,” Hong said sarcastically. “Grace me with your military acumen.”
“We have yet to see the Behemoths in action,” Liang said.
“Are you addled? Have you forgotten your aborted air assault on I-70?”
“We definitely witnessed force cannons at work,” Liang said. “But the longer I’ve thought about that, the more unlikely it seems to me that those were really Behemoths.”
“Explain that,” Hong said.
“Perhaps the wear to the gargantuan tanks in Los Angeles was heavier than we realized. Why else have the Americans waited to unleash them in the Midwest? We witnessed the force cannons during the I-70 assault. Maybe the Americans stripped the Behemoths of their rail-guns and scrapped the tank bodies. Why would the Americans put such unwieldy tanks in the Rocky Mountains? That makes no military sense.”
“That is an interesting question,” Hong said. “If true, it makes taking this plant all the more critical. I have it on excellent authority that the Americans are mass-producing the tanks. It could be they are mass-producing the rail-guns even faster. Obviously the weapons are very effective even without their armored chassis. Yet we should have greater evidence of them.”
“Leader, I doubt the Denver plant still runs. I have—”
“Do not assure me of such a thing,” Hong said, his anger rekindled. “The Americans must be using the plant even now. The German industries remained active during World War II under heavy allied bombing. Surely, these rodent-like Americans can have done the same thing. Perhaps they are underground.”
“Our bombing raids are more accurate these days,” Liang said. “And—”
Hong made a chopping gesture with his right hand. “Your arguments weary me, Marshal. I have an order for you, a directive straight from my office. Capture Denver—and do it now. Do not give me more delays. Finish the task and close your jaws on these rats.”
Liang didn’t know what to say.
Hong’s eyes became redder than earlier. He leaned forward. “Do you lack the soldiers to do your task?”
“Leader, I would like to point out—”
“Answer the question,” Hong said.
Liang dreaded the possibility of diverted troops going to Denver. He needed them on the Northern Front.
“No, Leader. I have enough men.”
“You’re lying. Now you listen to me, Marshal. I am sending you replacement levies. Use them to storm the city. Give me that plant and do it now!”