She studied the big screen as General Alan spoke about Zhen’s Tank Army. The Canadian First Army had gone through several grueling days of desperate battle. Zhen’s soldiers were veterans and knew their business. For the first two days, it looked like they would burst through the Canadians and destroy them. Several factors had worked against the Chinese. The critical fact in General Alan’s view was worn equipment.
It was true the Canadians lacked the Chinese combined-arms coordination, but no one could doubt their northern neighbor’s stubbornness. By the end of the third day of the slugfest, the Canadians managed to blunt the T-66s and transform the maneuver part of the conflict into grinding attritional fights. There it was more a matter of courage and newer equipment.
Through their blood, the Canadians had bought America time. More Militia formations had moved south, dug trenches and built defenses along the penetration route. A few Regular formations with fast artillery now engaged the tardy Brazilians.
“Mr. President,” General Alan said, “the danger isn’t over for us. General Zhen’s offensive has stalled, but that could be a momentary thing. Marshal Sanchez has begun his drive to reach Zhen. We have a thin screen of Regular Army soldiers holding the line here and here.”
General Alan used a green electronic pointer on the computer map, showing the positions.
“The Canadians are exhausted and still have their hands full corralling the Tank Army,” the President said.
“Yes sir,” Alan said.
“How many Brazilian divisions is Sanchez using against the penetration?”
“He’s stabilized his northern line here in Nebraska, sir,” Alan said. “He’s has to put some of his best units there to stiffen the remaining Venezuelans and Colombians. It has left him little in way of an assault force. I think three of his fastest armored divisions are making the attempt.”
“These soldiers,” the President said, using his pointer. He highlighted the eastern edge of the American penetration, particularity at and around the Nebraska-Colorado-Kansas point, where all three states touched each other. “How many divisions do we have here?”
General Alan shook his head. “We don’t have any divisions, sir. But in numbers, in various battalions, companies and elite units, we have about a division’s worth of men.”
“That’s the critical point then. It looks as if Sanchez knows we’re weak there.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Three to one,” Sims said thoughtfully. “I like those odds for us. I held in Alaska whenever the Chinese attacked at three-to-one odds.”
“Yes sir. Normally, I’d agree with you. But these are three of the best Brazilian divisions and the men facing them are from all kinds of units. They’re an ad hoc group. They’re not used to working together or trusting each other. That makes a difference. The key is that they won’t have to hold for long. But they do need to buy us three days, at least.”
“Air power—”
“We’re stretched everywhere, sir. Our air is engaged helping the Canadian First Army and keeping our Second Tank Army supplied. We’ve completed the encirclement. The Behemoths and other forward elements reached Colorado Springs. Now we have to hold the line against all comers. For an emergency, a critical moment, I’m saving these ballistic missiles. They can reach anywhere on the battlefield.”
“Hmm, that’s not very many,” the President said.
“No sir, but it is our last reserve at the moment.”
President Sims studied the map, switching his gaze from spot to spot. He sat down, stroking his chin, and his features turned from a scowl to a crooked smile.
“Ms. Chen,” he said.
Anna looked up in surprise. David hadn’t addressed her for some time.
“How will Chairman Hong take this encirclement?” the President asked.
“I’m not certain I understand the question, Mr. President.”
“Will he go nuclear to free them?”
“Doubtful, sir,” Anna said. “He would likely expect a massive nuclear retaliation against the trapped troops. With the destruction of the MC ABMs and a massive SAM depletion, he must realize his trapped formations couldn’t stop American nuclear ballistic missiles.”
The President nodded thoughtfully.
“I think Chairman Hong is more concerned about his prestige at home,” Anna said.
“Explain that,” the President said.
“If he loses the Third Front to us—if you march those soldiers into captivity—that’s a massive loss of face for him. It might shake the military’s confidence in Hong. It could cause a severe to total loss of power. It might even cause a coup.”
“I don’t think so,” Director Harold said. He paused to scratch his bald head, his fingernails scraping one of the liver spots. “That’s why Hong has East Lightning. The secret police keep a