“You cannot win, you know. Our forces will stop you,” he said with some determination.
He heard a chuckle. “Colonel, you couldn’t stop us before and you won’t stop us now,” she said. She turned to a person standing beside her. “Get them out of the way, then secure them on the ship,” she ordered.
“Yes, General,” came the reply as a squad of Marines rounded the prisoners up.
General Richardson crawled back in her command vehicle. “OK Marines, you have your orders. Get the units to their positions and wait for the signal. Then get the word out to kick ass and take names,” she said. On her order, the 1st Marine Division saddled up and moved out along the pier and into the city. They were followed by elements from another fighting force. This one was marching under a white flag with a rising sun in its center.
Ricks had just checked with his troops and secured their positions for the night. He rounded the side of the building and heard a noise. It sounded like a tracked vehicle; similar to the big diesels from the enemy tanks but different somehow. He walked up to Colonel Peterson standing in one doorway. He could barely make the man out. “You know what that is, sir?” he asked.
Peterson listened and then smiled in the darkness. “The sound of Heaven, Dale,” he said just as the big Bradley swerved around the corner and moved slowly to their position. The machine stopped just beside the two men and the back opened up. A Major came out and saluted. “Colonel, I’m Keith Kluger of the First. I need to know exactly where the line is and where the bad guys are,” he said quickly.
Hufham materialized out of the darkness. “Sweet,” he said. “Is it Christmas?”
Colonel Peterson, Hufham, and Ricks crawled in the back of the machine and looked at a console. It had a detailed map of the city showing exactly where they were. “The line runs along this street here. There are tanks somewhere about two streets over as far as we can hear. Our guys are arrayed all along this area here,” the Colonel said pointing out all the surrounding areas on the electronic map. The sergeant operating the system quickly entered the information. Then waited, looking at another monitor. It took almost three minutes, but exactly on schedule, a map suddenly appeared on the screens laying out one, then several, then all of the enemy positions along the line. “The satellite is up and running sir,” the sergeant said. He continued to watch as more and more information was linked together. Within five minutes all the units had been linked in.
The sound of footsteps outside were heard as troops began to arrive along the front line. They started issuing ammunition to the Americans and South Koreans who had been fighting almost barehanded for so long. Best yet, they started handing out night vision goggles to the officers and senior enlisted. The noise drew some fire from the other side of the river, but under orders, nothing was returned. Ricks looked out at the men and equipment pouring up around them. “Where did you guys come from?” he asked.
One of the sergeants handing out supplies grinned in the darkness. “Hells bells, bud, I came all the way from Brooklyn. You aren’t planning on asking me to go back are you?”
Hufham let out a laugh. “Shit, we just thought you’d never get here. It’s been a bear around here lately,” he said.
“Well, in a few minutes, those assholes are gonna think the whole world just took a shit on ‘em,” the sergeant said.
“The missiles are targeted and all show a green light.”
“Any contacts?” the Captain asked.
“None, sir.”
The Captain looked around the control room. “This is it guys. Let’s start us a war. Begin firing sequence. Launch as scheduled,” he ordered. Ten seconds later the first of the Tomahawk cruise missiles left the first launch tube and headed for its target. The second missile left the tube ten seconds later. A little over twenty-six minutes later the last missile left the tubes and the Ohio dove deep, turning south to return to Yokosuka. On the west coast, the Michigan completed her launch in the same amount of time. Somewhere out there a third was sitting and waiting. Her missiles were kept in reserve for those few that missed and any new targets that appeared.
Captain Hammond sat in Strike watching the data coming in from the satellite. Iowa’s targets had been designated by the overall commander and transferred into the ships Mk-38 gunfire control system. The old Ford Rangekeepers with their naval gunfire support attachment were already providing a gunfire solution for the guns. The Iowa, Wisconsin, and Missouri were in a line just outside the harbor. No lights were showing and the night was dark. Only night vision glasses helped keep the ships in formation. In Strike, Hammond looked at the data and gave the order. “Weaps, bring the main batteries to bear.”
On the deck, the three three-gun turrets turned outward and their barrels elevated. Inside each turret, the hydraulic lifts hoisted the 1,900-pound projectiles into the loading trays in preparation for firing. Farther below men pulled out the 110-pound powder bags and sent them through the passing scuttles from the magazines through the annular space and into the turret, where more men loaded them into the elevators that would take them to the gun house.
On the next order, the barrels were depressed to loading position and the loading trays extended to fit inside the lip of the breech. In the back of the trays, the 16-inch projectile was rammed forward onto the breech until it engaged the rifling in the gun and sealed. The rammer was retracted and a small door opened downward just above the loading tray forming a ramp between the elevated powder bags and the tray. The elevator trays were tilted and three bags were eased down the ramp onto the tray and slid forward and back allowing room for three more. The elevator lifted to reveal one additional level. This one also tilted and all six bags positioned on the loading tray. They were slowly pushed onto the breech of the gun. This happened to all nine of the 16-inch rifles on the ship. The tray was folded back and the breech closed. The barrel elevated to match the orders provided by the computers below. The whole turret moved around making sure it was exactly where it should be pointed despite any movement of the ship.
“All guns loaded, Captain,” the Weapons Officer reported. “We have received targeting for six of the Tomahawks. The data has been entered and the missiles ready. Recommend we fire just before we open with the guns.”
“Very well, permission granted.” Hammond looked at his watch. “Two minutes, Weaps,” he said with a smile. Outside, two of the armored box launchers rose to their 45-degree height exposing the missiles inside.
A movement nearby caused Hammond to glance over. A civilian sat anxiously taking some notes and watching the efforts around him. Pete Westin had been assigned to the Iowa and joined them in Guam. As a reporter for the Knight Ritter Newspapers he was one of the first to volunteer and agree to all the government’s stipulations. Upon arrival aboard the ship, Westin concentrated on getting to know the officers and men and the ship they sailed. He was a pleasant man to be around and had already written a couple of articles that were held until after the fighting started. Once that happened, the ship could resume radio transmissions via fleet broadcast.
Westin glanced over at Hammond and gave a weak smile. Clearly he was excited and nervous. In just one minute the United States would begin operations against the North Koreans. Much would depend on what happened that night. What Westin noticed was that the Captain seemed calm and in control. Hammond actually smiled at him. Westin thought of all he had heard over the past few days. This will work, he thought.
Chairman Kim was enjoying himself. He stood on the balcony outside his office and sipped some wine. The plans for the celebration tomorrow were complete and everything was in place. He always looked forward to the big parades. It always centered focus on his enlightened leadership and gave him the opportunity to entertain the masses. The extra food and drink would make them love him even more.