Vaughn Heppner - Invasion - China

1997: The British return Hong Kong to China.

2016: Amid a global monetary crisis, China unloads its US Bonds. The American banking system and stock market crashes. The ripple effect creates the Sovereign Debt Depression.

2020: The beginning of a new glacial age causes worldwide crop failures. Europe, Russia and China are particularly hard hit.

2022: The continuing Sovereign Debt Depression and intense civil war in Mexico creates political and social turmoil in America. All US military forces return home.

2023: The Mukden Incident sparks the Sino-Siberian War. Chinese armies invade north and defeat the Russians. China annexes the Great Northeastern Area, and eastern Siberia becomes a client state.

2024: China invades Taiwan. Its expanding navy now rivals the shrunken USN.

2027: R&D breakthroughs lead to continental ABM systems. Tests show laser effectiveness, able to knock out ninety-eight percent of incoming ICBMs.

2031: Harsher weather patterns cause greater food rationing in more countries. Canada, America, Argentina and Australia form a Grain Union. In retaliation, Greater China places economic sanctions on the US. The German Dominion, the South American Federation and the Iranian Hegemony follow suit. China begins sending military advisors to Mexico, aiding its side in the civil war.

2034: The South American Federation forces Argentina to leave the Grain Union.

2036: In a packed UN amidst wild applause, China lists its 13 Demands. The first is that America must distribute its abundance equally throughout a starving world. China sends an Asian “brotherhood” fleet to aid Hawaiian separatists. America sends its ageing carriers. The Chinese launch a surprise attack on American satellites, combining it with a massive cyber-assault. With their datalinks crippled, the US fleet is destroyed at the Battle of Oahu. The President declares a state of emergency, beginning construction of the Rio Grande Defensive Line due to 700,000 Chinese “advisors” in Mexico.

2038: Claiming American provocations, China accelerates its troop buildup. Over four million Pan-Asian Alliance soldiers occupy Mexico. The first South American Federation troops arrive. In a preemptive attack, the US destroys as many enemy satellites as its ABM lasers can reach.

2039: In a hungry world, US farmland is the most precious on Earth. From northern Mexico, nine million PAA and SAF soldiers invade America. The German Dominion breaks ranks—its forces are massed in Cuba. For its neutrality, the GD demands and receives Quebec.

2039-2040: The invasion “up the gut” between the Rockies on the west and the Mississippi River on the east falters during bitter winter fighting at the siege of Denver. American and Canadian forces drive the enemy back to Oklahoma. Spring 2040, the German Dominion launches a surprise assault from Quebec, hoping to gain the Great Lakes-Northeastern region. After initial bloody defeats, the defenders rally. Combined with new space weapons—THOR missiles—America inflicts a strategic defeat on GD forces.

2041: American submarines and THOR missiles devastate the PAA navy and merchant marine, disrupting enemy supplies.

In the submarine’s humid control center, Captain John Winthrop studied a blue-glowing screen. It made his eyes glow with color.

He didn’t want to die. None of them did.

Condensation took that moment to drip onto the monitor. With a rag, Winthrop wiped away the moisture. The vessel’s main engine coughed, the sound loud enough to travel to the control center.

Winthrop grimaced at the noise. The Chinese must have instrumentation able to pick that up. The submarine was doomed for sure.

Why doesn’t someone tell me this is a crazy idea?

Several seconds after the engine cough, an oily taint drifted in the air. Should he order the recycling vents closed?

No. That would foul the air. Just live with what you have . It was an ironic thought and he knew it. Instead of smiling, he concentrated, focusing on the only problem that mattered for the rest of his short life.

The monitor was linked to the submarine’s periscope. It showed a Chinese fighter landing on an aircraft carrier approximately one and a half miles away. The targeting computer also pinpointed escorting cruisers and destroyers, an entire enemy task force. That meant Chinese submarines lurked nearby. They were a danger to USS Sherman , an Avenger VII-class submarine, but not nearly as bad as the combat air patrols crisscrossing the sky, hunting for subs just like his.

Winthrop raised a steady hand. Thank God for good nerves . With the rag, he wiped perspiration from his forehead. Aren’t we always talking about doing something to turn the tide of the war? Here it is. The question becomes, do I have the balls to go for it?

How many lives did a man have anyway? Reincarnation would be nice if it was true, but he didn’t believe in it.

This isn’t suicide. This is war and here’s my chance to make a difference, to take down one of their aircraft carriers, maybe an entire task force .

Through an unusual set of circumstances—stupid luck, really—and an extremely cold layer of water, the submarine had maneuvered close to the carrier. Chinese anti-torpedo systems had become fantastically difficult to penetrate. A torpedo launched from thirty miles away had become an outdated tactic. But to attack from this close…

Instead of wrestling with his thoughts about this, he should be—

One of the men cleared his throat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Winthrop saw that the Chief of the Boat, the COB, had made the noise. That surprised him. Does he have more balls than I do?

“What are your orders, sir?” the chief whispered.

It was hard, but Winthrop looked up at the man’s narrow features. Black circles and haunted eyes showed the chief’s strain.

What did the chief really think about this? With the submarine’s desperate need of repairs, did the man just want to limp home? They had done their duty this voyage. Why risk more, right? After their ordeal two days ago, who wanted to rise up to the role of sacrificial hero?

As Winthrop thought about that, another drip fell onto the screen, and the damaged engine rattled loudly. The Chinese had to hear that. Why couldn’t the enemy react and take the awful decision away from him?

Two days ago, they had crawled away while escaping from an angry convoy, having sunk several transports. Then Chinese drones had dropped atomic depth charges on them. Every American submariner hated the drones. Nothing else had sounded quite like that charge going off. Winthrop recalled the terror of watching the bulkheads as everything shook and groaned with metallic complaint. Several of the crew had thrown Petty Officer Harris to the deck plates, because the man had lost it, screaming and running amok. The crew had pummeled Harris with their fists, making meaty smacks. It had been the only remedy then. They had beaten Harris back to sanity and strapped him down afterward in the tiny infirmary.

The humidity in here, the faulty engine and the questionable pressure hull meant they could no longer dive as deeply as they used to. Maybe as bad, the submarine had become as sluggish as a tugboat.

It’s a miracle we reached this location without the Chinese spotting us. It was either dumb luck or divine providence, or maybe the Devil’s humor.