Invasion Colorado - By Vaughn Heppner Page 0,115

and 92nd Armored Divisions. Those are top-notch formations, Colonel. Intelligence believes they have three hundred T-66s, and plenty of artillery.”

Stan tapped one of his screens.

“Speak to me, Colonel,” McGraw said. “Can your rail-guns fire at extreme range in this weather?”

“Clear weather would be better,” Stan said.

“I hope you’re not avoiding the issue, Colonel.”

“No sir,” Stan said. He’d just looked outside. Clearly, this wasn’t long-range weather.

“We want to keep the drive alive,” McGraw said. “We don’t want to stop for anything. You have a lot of ground to cover before you reach Colorado Springs.”

“Understood, General,” Stan said. “Hit hard and hit fast.”

“We also want to keep your tanks around for the duration,” McGraw said.

“Do you know how far the Chinese divisions are from us?” Stan asked.

“Less than twelve miles,” McGraw said. “The Chinese have reacted fast to our penetration.”

Stan’s gut tightened. Why can’t it be easy for once? In clear weather, he could have already engaged and destroyed these T-66s. The enemy was already too close, and that was due to the blizzard.

“General, it’s time to ram this attack down their throats. I’m want the forward units—”

“The Bradleys?” asked McGraw.

“Yes sir,” Stan said. “I want them to remain in position ahead of us. They’re going to spot for me.”

“You believe the Chinese will expect you to back off?”

“I think anyone would back off in this weather,” Stan said. “Sane people wouldn’t be out trying to march in a blizzard, let alone fight. We’re going to have to trust our thermal sights and radar tracking.”

“God help you,” McGraw said.

“Yes, I hope He does, sir.”

“And good luck, Professor. Kill them all.”

That’s exactly what Stan planned to do.

GRID NINE-FIVE-EIGHT, COLORADO

First Rank Wang shivered uncontrollably. He commanded T-66 Number Two of Eighth Troop. His was the last tri-turreted tank in the unit. Originally, there had been three.

Months of war and countless hundreds of miles advancing had worn down his great machine. One turret didn’t work anymore. The tracks needed changing again and the crew was dog-tired. Worse by far, the main heating unit didn’t work. It meant the tank was an icebox inside.

As he sat in his commander’s chair, Wang wore a winter parka and a woolen ski mask. His breath puffed white and the controls were freezing to the touch. Putting on a pair of goggles, he poked his head outside the main turret. Snow swirled in a vast sheet of blindness.

He’d never seen it like this. This was real Ice Age weather. He glanced around. Other T-66s plowed into the shrieking wind. To Wang, it almost seemed as if the one hundred ton tanks leaned into the storm.

It was crazy to fight in this kind of weather. They’d been moving to intercept American tankers. He found it difficult to believe the Americans drove south to attack now. For months, they had retreated before Chinese might. Sometimes, a few of the braver Americans fought their tanks. Each time the Americans did so, they died uselessly. Most of the time the Americans ran away. First Rank Wang was used to Americans running away.

He could well understand why. The T-66 possessed two hundred centimeters of Tai composite armor in front. Normally, such a tank had three turrets and three cannons. Each could traverse 180 degrees and each had a huge, 175mm smoothbore gun. They fired hypervelocity rocket-assisted shells against enemy tanks, and HEAT rounds for lesser targets. Six 30mm auto-cannons and twenty beehive flechette defenders made the tank sudden death for any infantryman out in the open. Linked with the defense radar net, the massed T-66s could knock down or deflect most enemy shells. The main gun tubes could also fire Red Arrow anti-air rounds, making it a deadly proposition for attack craft trying to take it on. The tank had a magnetically balanced hydraulic suspension, so Wang’s gunners could fire with astounding accuracy while moving at top speed.

It’s true the Americans had a better tank in the Behemoth. But better was a relative term. China fielded thousands of T-66s. Three tri-turreted tanks were a match for one Behemoth, he believed. Army Intelligence said the Americans only possessed one hundred of their supposedly better tank.

Despite the terrible weather, Wang grinned. Americans could fight stubbornly behind buildings and while in trenches. But in his experience, he’d learned that Americans could not fight out in the open. There, they died. It’s why the Americans had been retreating for months on end.

“First Rank,” the radar specialist called.

Wang could hardly hear the man. He pulled his head in. Everyone wore

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