This time, Liang was wrong about having a choice. A half hour later, Hong took the matter out of his hands.
There came a knock at the door. Liang opened it and regarded a worried aide.
“Sir,” the aide said, “Chairman Hong is calling.”
Liang’s left eye grew worse. He closed the door and put his hand on the eye, stilling its involuntary motion. “Sit down to the side and out of sight,” he told Ping. “I want you to hear this.”
Nervously, Ping did as ordered.
Soon, Liang greeted Hong on the screen. “This is an honor, sir.”
“This is a worsening disaster,” Hong grumbled. “The Americans keep driving deeper south. The untrustworthy Germans have caused this mess. If they had invaded the Eastern Coast as planned, we would be crushing the Americans. Now the Americans have regrouped and attacked. Marshal Wu has explained the situation to me in greater detail last night. The Americans drive a wedge between our fronts. It is very clever. They appear to be headed for Denver.”
“I agree,” Liang said.
“You will stop them, Marshal. You must stop them now before they ruin our winter campaign.”
“Leader, I am busy pulling back Zhen’s Tank Army from the frontages near Cheyenne. It will take three days to get them into position. I want to hit the Americans with my full force then, using massed T-66s and hovertanks.”
“No. Three days is too long,” Hong said. “You will gather what you have and do it in two days.”
Liang took a careful breath. The Leader was too impulsive. Didn’t the man realize…?
“Leader, the Americans have caught us by surprise. They must have planned this with great care. Our main forces are engaged elsewhere too deeply for us to simply withdrawal them. I ask for three days to gather my forces. A Tank Army is not a division, sir. It takes time to—”
“Do not think you can lecture me on military tactics,” Hong said angrily. Surprisingly, he checked himself a moment later. He turned away.
Liang waited, uncomfortable with the Chairman’s unpredictable behavior.
Hong faced the screen, regarding him. “You may have a point. Sixty hours, and you must launch a killing counter-offensive.”
The Chairman’s unexpected reasonableness—meeting him halfway—emboldened Liang. He knew how he wanted to do this. Perhaps this was the moment to take a chance with Hong. The American attack seemed to have shaken the Chairman’s usual confidence. The sudden loss of two armored divisions had apparently made the Leader more reasonable. Good for Marshal Wu—I wonder what he told Hong last night?
“Sir,” Liang said. “I wonder if it might be better to wait until the Brazilians are ready to strike from the other flank with us. If we coordinate this attack—”
“The Brazilians?” asked Hong. “Did I hear you correctly? We are in this dilemma because the Brazilians couldn’t defend their own front. You will not wait for anyone. You will destroy these American hotheads. I tell you, they have scraped the bottom of the barrel and put the last East Coast troops there. If you strike them hard, they will shatter. All that bolsters them are these Behemoths. Destroy them, and their game is over.”
Liang heard the Chairman’s bitterness. He also calculated the time and routes of travel. Zhen was a brilliant tank general. He had a rare gift for moving armor. Sixty hours…yes, he could be ready to start the counterattack by then. But it would be so much better to mass with the Brazilians. There had to be a way to make the Chairman see reason. He had to use the man’s own thinking against him.
“Leader,” Liang said, “I think the Americans have become too bold.”
“Explain that.”
“Sir, you’re right about their scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of manpower. To amass so many tanks in one location, they must have striped other fronts to do it. If we engage them in a fierce tank contest, our T-66s and hovertanks will chew them to death in a vast battle of annihilation. I will use air to help kill the Behemoths. We will take losses. The battle yesterday taught us that. But we can resupply our Army faster with new tanks than the Americans can with their side. Now if we—”
“See to the counterattack,” Hong said. “Destroy this American Tank Army and kill those Behemoths. I do not want to hear of another Chinese defeat like yesterday. The Brazilians will mop up once you’re done. They’re always late to a battlefield. So you cannot count on them until after you’ve won.”
Hong appeared thoughtful. “The enemy has gathered his final strength and come out in the open. The Behemoths being here show us this is their last throw of the dice of Fate. They no longer hide behind their cowardly defenses. Yes, I am glad to see you’ve regained heart. Once again, I have bolstered one of my wavering marshals. Do your duty, Liang, and I will reward you handsomely. Fail me like the tank generals did yesterday, and your end with be a bitter one.”
Liang despised threats. He was a professional and he would do his best because that’s what he was. The threat was all too real, however.
On the face of it, the American attack looked like a disaster for China. But some hard and clever fighting might well turn everything around again. Perhaps the Chairman had a point. Despite their Behemoths, the Americans were taking a grave risk. They had come out of their defenses to strike. Now was the time to spring traps on them and destroy their Behemoths and operational mobility.
“I hear and obey, Leader,” Liang said.
“I await the coming victory with anticipation,” Hong said. “See that you do not disappoint me.”
With that, the screen went blank.
Liang didn’t waste a moment. He picked up a phone and called General Zhen so they could begin making plans. He had one ace card, one secret to use against the Americans. The enemy had their Behemoths. He had the MC ABMs. It was time to begin moving them into position.
-11-
Counterattack
The stars shone brightly as Master Sergeant Kavanagh and Romo patrolled the western flank of Army Group Washington.
There were Militia and Regular Army infantry divisions slogging to close the gap of the advancing tanks. The foot soldiers would build defenses to keep the PAA Third Front surrounded, but the trap hadn’t shut yet and that made the deep-driving units vulnerable.
Paul and Romo moved slowly on their snowmobiles, the front skis sliding over ice crystals, leaving a furrow behind them. Each man scanned the western flatlands. They used their night-vision visors switched to long-range scan. For Paul, it was an endless wasteland where little moved, a frozen land supinely accepting the Arctic cold. Each snowmobile pulled a sled, the skis hissing over the white powder. The attachments carried an abundance of ordnance and survival equipment.
Paul and Romo were part of a larger effort to provide coverage against PAA counterattacks. The Chinese had grown cunning. They used hovertanks and UAVs against the Americans’ growing logistical tail. Each day the rear area lengthened, stretching back to the Platte River Line.
The American Second Tank Army spearheaded the advance toward Colorado Springs. The lead units had already covered an incredible two hundred miles, half the distance there. Behind Second Tank Army followed Ninth Army and then the Canadian First Army. Trucks, oil tankers and haulers crisscrossed back and forth, bringing up badly needed supplies. The fighting had been stiff in places, the use of U.S. munitions prodigious. Despite the around-the-clock effort, the ground haulers weren’t enough. The Army Group used an inordinate number of air transports, bringing fuel to thirsty tanks.
Lately, the Chinese pinprick counterattacks had increased. They sent hovertank companies, sometimes battalions. The objective was simple: destroy supply dumps and transport vehicles. If the enemy could drain away enough gas and munitions, the drive to Colorado Springs would dry up of its own accord without any major combat. That would also strand Army Group Washington out in the open for the Chinese to slice and dice at will.