heavy losses but pushing the enemy perimeter ever backward.
Now, tonight, he would unleash his backdoor surprise that would guarantee him victory.
I-70 was an engineering marvel of former American ingenuity. The freeway passed over many bridges, through famous tunnels and mountain gorges. Several well-placed missiles and bombs at key locales would slow traffic to a mule-laden trickle. Without I-70 and the rail lines next to it, and once he sealed off the urban area in the north to Cheyenne, Wyoming, the Rockies would become a logistical nightmare for the defending Americans. Knowing they were cut off from aid and they were destined for death or the prisoner-of-war camps in Northern Mexico, the American defenders would lose heart, wilt and surrender in bitterest defeat.
The key to the Chairman’s order therefore was to strike at I-70 with their total force now, at the very beginning of the struggle. One of the staff officers had suggested nuclear weapons, but that was too risky. The Americans might use nuclear weapons in response. Liang needed far more tac-lasers and MC ABMs before he would feel comfortable he could fend off an American nuclear attack.
Tonight he would do this the conventional way. He would watch the offensive’s progress through high-flying AWACS planes and recon drones. Ping and he would watch on the big screen in the Command Center.
“It is time,” Liang said. “Tell the air traffic controllers to give the orders.”
FORWARD EDGE OF THE BATTLE AREA, COLORADO
Captain Tzu piloted one of the big Heron bombers of the mass Chinese assault on I-70’s Eisenhower Tunnel. He had lifted off the main airfield in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The gathering of air power tonight reminded him of the opening days of the invasion.
“All this to destroy a freeway tunnel?” his navigator asked. “This is overkill.”
With his hands on the controls, Tzu glanced outside. The Rockies were beautiful, a range of rugged, snow-covered mountains. In the moonlight, they looked majestic, like a land of wonder. If they had to bail out, though, he would never see home again. Wolves lived down there and American cougars and grizzly bears. He had heard stories, terrible tales. If the wild beasts didn’t kill them, the snow and trackless mountains would ensure they starved to death.
“The Americans are in for a horrible surprise,” the navigator said.
Tzu turned to the navigator with a start. He wiped his forehead, glad to be out of his daze. He needed to stop thinking about being shot down in the amazing but deadly mountain-land. Yes, he hoped the navigator was right. He hoped, but…this one didn’t feel right. Why did command believe so many planes were needed just to take out a single tunnel? This kind of precision night attack was better suited to the Ghosts, the S-13s.
Captain Tzu glanced out the window again. In every direction loomed the terrible and gloriously beautiful Rocky Mountains. The stars blazed with light and the moon…
“I wish we could fly there,” Tzu said, pointing at the moon.
“Eh?” asked the navigator.
“Look at the moon.”
“Tzu, can’t you ever keep your mind on task? Look at the radar. Look at the number of planes ahead of us. This is an audacious operation. We’re making history.”
Tzu tore his gaze from the cratered, captivating moon. He did look at the radar, and he recalled what the briefing officer had told them. Tonight, China massed its air power to strip the Americans of hope.
Twenty-seven EW Anchors led the way. Behind followed three hundred and seventy-nine Heron bombers, nearly four hundred machines. There were no fighters tonight. Most of those made strikes against Denver, occupying the American air there, keeping enemy eyes fixed elsewhere. Fortunately, no Chinese pilot would actually go in that deeply to I-70. Drones and missiles would do that. The Americans must have some air defense present, but the enemy would not have nearly enough to stop this mass. The greatest danger—
Tzu looked up at the moon, delighting in the pockmarks, the darker areas.
“Captain!” the navigator said.
“I’m thinking about the Reflex interceptors,” Tzu said.
The navigator frowned. “Do not jinx us, Captain. It is better not to speak about them.”
“They must be out in numbers tonight.”
“Please.”
Captain Tzu glanced at his navigator. The man looked sick with worry. He nodded. Pilots and navigators were a superstitious lot. Do not speak about Reflex interceptors because maybe they could hear you talk about them and would notice what was going on. It was a foolish idea, but difficult not to believe in his heart.