Post by richardburton on Aug 10, 2007 15:12:39 GMT 1
Right, my third novel, The Killing Moon is progressing well, so I thought I'd put up a few little extracts here to gauge some of your comments. This one is a collaborative effort with a good friend of mine, Jamie Mitchell. This first extract goes into the global collapse of civilisation. The rest of the story centres around a group of survivors in northern England.
The Killing Moon
By Rod Glenn & Jamie Mitchell
Prologue
The imminent future…
Iraq and Afghanistan become increasingly unstable. Coalition forces and flimsy infrastructures struggle to cope…
Iran, Syria and Pakistan are openly accused of assisting and funding terrorist insurgents…
Israel sees renewed missile attacks inland as far as Haifa. This provokes a strong knee-jerk reaction and Israeli forces once again storm across the Litani to neutralize the threat…
A leaked government document states that U.S. oil reserves have been grossly exaggerated. At current burn rates, U.S. oil fields will run dry within 5-10 years…
A senior executive at Petrofac turns whistle-blower and reveals evidence that the North Sea oil fields are due to run dry within 10 years…
In an unprecedented address, the President of the United States admits that continued U.S. involvement in Iraq is now solely due to diminishing world supplies of oil. For the security and stability of the nation, the Iraqi oil fields are to be seized by Coalition forces…
Overnight, Iraq is thrown into turmoil and what seems like the entire nation rise up against the Coalition. Afghanistan immediately follows suit…
The Secretary-General to the United Nations calls for calm and a time to reflect and for countries to consider their actions. He also urges for a reversal of U.S. policy for Iraq and a timeframe for a measured withdrawal. The U.S. point blank refuses as they prepare a major force to restore control in Iraq. The UK agrees and begins making plans for a full and immediate withdrawal from Iraq…
In response, U.S. forces are immediately withdrawn from Afghanistan, leaving UK and Australian forces in a desperate situation…
Using Iran and Syria’s terrorist activities as an excuse, Israel launches pre-emptive surgical strikes on both countries’ infrastructure…
The Arab states are unilaterally incensed and respond. Iran, Syria, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Jordan form the Middle East Alliance and declare war on Israel. Only Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates remain neutral…
With a major conflict in the Middle East and facing an imminent oil crisis, stock markets struggle and the world economy at first falters, then takes a rapid nose-dive…
With all eyes on the Middle East, Kuwait and the UAE fold under the pressure and join the newly formed Middle East Alliance…
After suffering huge losses in Afghanistan, remaining Coalition forces are finally evacuated, leaving a country gripped with civil war…
All Coalition forces, except for the U.S., evacuate Iraq once additional U.S. reinforcements arrive to bolster the embroiled troops…
Israeli forces clash with a multinational Middle East Alliance force on the Lebanese/Syrian border. Israel manages to push MEA forces back to Damascus…
A second MEA contingent pushes through from Jordan into the Golan Heights…
With international attention diverted, China moves to take advantage of the current crisis and masses forces on its northern border. They then move en mass across the Amur into Russia to seize the Siberian Lowland oil reserves…
Chapter 1
An icy wind was gusting across the dark, turbulent waters of the Amur River. Night had dropped like the curtain after the encore. Several oriental white storks nesting on the muddy banks suddenly took flight, startled by something unseen and unheard. A moment later, the first shelling commenced.
Nine Artillery brigades, consisting of static pieces, self propelled units and multiple launch rocket systems, from positions from Mohe to Heihe, opened fire in unison to coincide with multiple air strikes. Wave upon wave of Su-27, J-7 and J-8 fighters roared overhead, amidst formations of ground attack and bombers, including JH-7s, H-6s and Q-5s.
The pounding of distant explosions was the catalyst for the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) heavily bolstered Second Army to surge forth towards the sacred Black River. A force of 250,000 troops and four armoured divisions mobilised and began the lengthy process of crossing the Amur into Russia. At the same time, paratroopers were being dropped into Khabarovsk to seize the strategically important Khabarovsk Railway and Road Bridge.
The artillery barrage and air strikes took a heavy toll on the Russian Far Eastern Military District defences, under the command of Army General Vladimir Bulgakov. Of the 5th and 35th Armies and his four Motor Rifle Divisions and four Machine-Gun/Artillery Divisions, approximately half were quickly destroyed or routed. Those forces that were not, quickly found themselves under heavy assault. Confused and contradicting orders further fuelled the chaos amongst the struggling defenders. The 14th Separate Brigade of Special Designation (Spetsnaz with an attachment of Alfa Group Counter-Terrorist unit), normally headquartered in Ussuriysk, along with one Motor Rifle Division and elements of one Machine-Gun/Artillery Division were hastily assembled at the Khabarovsk headquarters in a desperate attempt to hold the strategic position. Bloody street to street fighting ensued.
Shang Jiang (General) Lo Gangchuan had made a rare visit to Staging Area #1 to witness first hand this historic occasion. A gaggle of other senior ranking officers stood in a loose cluster behind him with a mixture of expressions, ranging from excitement to trepidation. The aging commander’s deeply wrinkled face broadened into a wide grin as he waved furiously at a column of Type 77 armoured personnel carriers (APCs) as they roared by, churning up thick clods of muck. Soldiers and personnel were dashing to and fro amidst the thundering of engines.
Gangchuan’s attention was drawn skyward as three Z-9 attack helicopters whooshed overhead. He clasped his hands together, thoroughly pleased with the operation so far. To be put in command of such a titanic operation was the highest honour indeed and he thoroughly intended everything to go completely to plan.
He turned to the nearest officer, a Shao Jiang (Major General) and, his smile gone, said, “Next stop; Yakutsk.”
The skyline of the industrial city and port of Khabarovsk was a shimmering orange from the aftermath of the initial artillery and air barrage. Factories, telecommunications and other military targets had taken the brunt and now fires raged unattended as a blanket of paratroopers rained down on the southern and north eastern sectors of the city. Fighters, indistinguishable in the smoke-filled sky, continued to clash high above for air superiority, mere streaking blurs in the darkness. An occasional orange fireball would signal the end of one unfortunate crew or another.
Major Viktor Arbatov, commander of 2nd Battalion, 14th Separate Brigade of Special Designation, had set up his field operations in an unimposing pastel-blue neighbourhood orthodox church. The church was situated in the north eastern suburb of Aviagorodok, on the southern tip of Khabarovsk Airport. Battalion staff were still unloading equipment from the flatbeds when the first voice shouted.
“Look!”
Major Arbatov and several others nearby looked at the man and followed his raised finger into the sky. Hundreds of open parachutes loomed out of the darkness.
“Oh God,” a young gefreiter muttered in disbelief.
Arbatov shot a fierce glance towards the man. “Get hold of yourself, private.” Turning away, his eyes sought a scrawny and weathered non-commissioned officer. Spotting him several yards away with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his upturned face, he said, “Starshina!”
The NCO snapped too immediately. “Yes, Sir!”
“Organise the immediate withdrawal of the field HQ to the rally point at Bolshaya Street.” Without awaiting his response, he turned to the senior lieutenant at his side and said, “Grachev, I want two companies dug in here, one to remain with the field HQ and one in reserve at the north end of the cemetery.”
“Yes, Sir,” Grachev replied immediately and turned to leave.
“We are going to hold Aviagorodok from these slants or die where we stand. And I will be here to ensure it. Do you understand, Grachev?”
The senior lieutenant stared into his battalion commander’s brilliant blue eyes and drew courage from the determination there. “Yes, Sir!”
Sporadic gunfire abruptly broke out from several directions and, glancing upwards, tracers could be seen cutting through the darkness.
The street was thick with smoke and blocked by the smouldering wreckage of a flatbed truck. The pastel-blue church was missing half a wall and the bell tower and was a raging inferno of belching flames. Arbatov glanced at it for a moment from his position across the street in a brick house. His face was smeared with muck, but the look of anger was unmistakable.
Gunfire peppered the building and explosions and gunfire merged into one all around, shaking the very foundations. The two-story home had been turned into the Company CP and aid station. All around him, dozens of his men were lying bleeding, some missing limbs, some with field dressings and some still. Their cries echoed in his ears, intertwining with the battle all around. Two medics ceaselessly rushed between each man.
The lounge/dining room had been cleared of all furniture, but a few personal effects, like photographs and pictures on the walls, still remained. Some were smashed and bullet-ridden, but a framed painting of the Khabarovsk coat of arms remained unscathed. It depicted the bear and tiger supporting a yellow, blue and white shield between them and the year of the city’s foundation, 1858, below. The Spetsnaz Major turned his attention from the burning church to the small painting on the wall.
As another rocket-propelled grenade struck the upper level, sending a tremor through the structure and raining chunks of plaster and dust onto their heads, a single tear ran down Arbatov’s dirty cheek.
Several darkened figures came into view beyond the destroyed truck and he immediately recognised them as PLA paratroopers. He drew up his AKS-74UN carbine and switched to semi-automatic mode as he sighted through the night vision scope for the furthest away. They were advancing in twos up the street, watchful and crouching low, attempting a flanking manoeuvre.
Arbatov squeezed the trigger and was sighting the second target even as the first was dropping to the ground with a bullet through his forehead. The PLA soldiers reacted as one, scattering for cover. Arbatov expertly picked off three more with three round bursts to each before their return fire tore through the window and wooden frame.
He ducked down behind the low wall, shouting, “Suppressing fire!”
As two soldiers rushed to the second window with a view of the street, a grenade was tossed through the window and landed a couple of feet away from the Major. He moved to grab it instinctively as he heard the clatter of a second unseen grenade.
“Grenades!” he screamed as they exploded in unison.
With the collapse of Khabarovsk and the Far Eastern command, PLA forces swept north over the Aldan to Yakutsk and the Artic Circle and their first objective; the East Siberian Lowland oil basin. Once the first objective was secured, they would then advance across Siberia to the West Siberian Lowland to secure the largest remaining oil reserve on Earth. Retreating Federation forces were rallied and reinforced on the western banks of the Lena. As the PLA approached, some 300,000 Russian troops had been amassed (75% of those being conscripts), along with a single tank division. The Lena had become the new Eastern Front.
With Russian air superiority maintained along the new front, tactical nuclear weapons were yet to be authorised. But the finger was firmly on the button.
Forces were reduced throughout the Federation to reinforce the frontline. In Chechnya, rebel forces seized on the opportunity to renew attacks on government forces, further destabilising the area.
Russian Command considered it inconceivable for the Chinese to open a second front on the Chinese-Russian Western Sector, so further weakened the Siberian MD to strengthen the Eastern Front. This proved to be catastrophic in every sense of the word.
As a PLA reconnaissance company headed further north beyond Yakutsk, probing for possible flanking or backdoor routes across the Lena, at the same time around 150,000 PLA soldiers and two armoured divisions moved across the border around Yining with artillery and air support. For the Federation, elements of the 2nd Army, a motor rifle division and a machine-gun/artillery division stood in their way.
The 74th Motorised Brigade out of Yurga was heading for the Eastern Front when news broke of the second front opening up. Major General Farid Balaliyev immediately re-routed to the new front to help bolster General Nikolai Makarov’s depleted force.
As fighting intensified on both fronts, the small, almost insignificant recon company, attached to the 1st Marine Brigade, originally out of Zhanjiang Guangdong, moved further north of Yakutsk. The brigade commander, Wang Gejun, had ordered them to find a way through the federation lines.
They had travelled across barren, frozen tundra, almost to the foothills of the khrebets, passed the tiny settlement of Ebe-Basa. Fighting through minus thirty degree temperatures and gusting, icy gales, the unit had reached the edge of its patrol range when the lead Type-77II Amphibious-APC ordered the column to a halt.
After a brief conversation with the lead TC, Shang Wei (Captain) Gong Qian, conversed with brigade HQ for further instructions. The response was brisk, but not unexpected. The installation that Chang’s unit had spotted up ahead would be investigated, despite being just outside of their patrol range.
Gong was a slender man, slight of frame and softly spoken. He had originally wanted to be a teacher before service, but had, over the years, become content with his role in the PLA. He had not had a great deal of combat experience, but had proved to be an excellent leader and tactician. “Shao Wei Chang,” he spoke into his headset to the point AAPC, “we are to proceed. Move out.”
A ten foot wire fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the group of squad ice-covered concrete buildings. The icy wind howled between the dark, bland structures. The area in front of the buildings that could have been a car park was deserted and devoid of any tracks. The few sparse windows were sheathed in thick ice and only blackness lay beyond.
A small gatehouse stood next to mesh double gates; it too dark and disused. The lead AAPC pulled up to it with a grinding clamour that was all but lost within the storm. Snow and ice whipped up around the flanks of the grumbling metal beast. After a moment, the vehicle lurched forward and crashed through the gates, tearing them down as if they were made of rice paper.
The AAPC drove slowly along the hundred metre track and pulled up near the larger central building. Even before it had halted, the side hatches swung open and artic-clad soldiers hastily disembarked. They fanned out in twos to check the perimeter, before four remaining men approached a frost-encrusted heavy steel door.
While two of the soldiers set shaped charges on the lock and hinges, the rest of the recon company pulled into the compound, leaving one AAPC at the rear which pulled in behind the gatehouse.
After blowing the main door, the PLA marines conducted a room to room search of the buildings. They turned out to be long abandoned and as lifeless and cold as tombs. It quickly revealed all the hallmarks of a defunct cold war communications station. Much of the equipment still remained in situ; old, rusting and inoperable. Bedding, old and smelling of foist, remained on all the bunks, dishevelled, but still useable. Traces of personal memorabilia also adorned some of the foot lockers and walls – a postcard of the Minsk skyline, a black and white photograph of a pretty young woman, smiling for the camera, and a dog-eared German edition of The Catcher in the Rye. The galley and pantry too remained well stocked with grubby utensils and out of date canned goods. Here and there a crate or box had been dropped or discarded, its spilled contents left and forgotten.
One such box caught Gong’s attention. Pushing the furry hood back off his head, he bent down to examine the contents. Petri dishes and glass vials had scattered out onto the bare concrete floor, some broken many years ago and a few more crunched under a careless PLA boot.
He picked one intact vial up with a thick gloved hand and looked closely at it, frowning. His pluming breath briefly misted the clear glass. What was lab equipment doing in a cold war listening post? The vial appeared clean and unused.
Gong ordered for a temporary Command Post (CP) to be set up in what appeared to be a control room and then ordered for a more thorough search of the complex. After giving a sit-rep to brigade, a young Lie Bing appeared in the open doorway and said, “Sir, we have found a concealed elevator.”
Handing the headset back to the radio operator, Gong said, “Show me.”
The private led Gong down a gloomy corridor. A low moaning was the only evidence of the storm outside; it followed them everywhere. At the end of the corridor, a door was being held open by another Lie Bing. Torchlight could be seen beyond.
He paused to glance at the door. It appeared featureless and, when closed, would blend into the wall with only mere cracks to betray its existence. “Good work,” he said to no one in particular and then stepped across the threshold.
He entered a small annex which was lit by the flashlights of two soldiers. The senior, an Ir Ji Shi Guan (sergeant), turned away from the closed elevator doors to acknowledge his commanding officer. “Sir, we stumbled upon this room quite by accident. We’re just waiting for a crowbar to get this elevator open – we’re still waiting on getting a generator up and running.”
Gong nodded and surveyed the dark, dusty room. It was bare and grey, like the rest of the installation with only one small engraved plaque on the wall beside the elevator call button. His Russian was poor, but he managed to decipher the words: RESTRICTED: LEVEL FIVE CLEARANCE ONLY.
“I want to know what is down there,” he said, his thoughts suddenly filled with hidden secrets and an imminent promotion.
Once the elevator doors had been prized open, the sergeant swept the empty carriage with his flashlight, then stepped inside. Glancing around, he said, “Looks like just a single sub-level.” Just then the panel lit up and an internal light winked on. “We’ve got some power by the looks of it.”
Gong nodded toward a light switch, which the private by the door flicked on. The strip light above them flashed several times then stabilised. He smiled, pleased with both himself and the efficiency of his men. “Take Zhang with you and scout out the lower level. Once secure, let me know.”
The sergeant nodded and waved for a private to join him in the carriage. He shrugged his CAR95 carbine off his shoulder before pressing the button.
The minutes ticked by, painfully slow, before a grinding and clunking noise signalled the return of the carriage. The sergeant was alone. “It is a laboratory, Sir. Classified material by the look of it. My guess is biological research.”
Brigade was extremely happy with the find. Wang Gejun himself came onto the radio to congratulate Gong and his unit. His new orders were for Gong to hold the position. He was going to despatch an additional company, along with an intelligence unit to properly investigate the find.
While his junior officers oversaw the fortification of their position and the deployment of patrols, Gong descended alone in the clanking elevator. Many of the overhead lights were no longer working, but there were enough to take the edge off the gloom. With his hands behind his back, he strolled past the soldier standing guard to one side of the elevator doors through an office/security area. A thick glass-fronted airtight door wedged open led him into a small room with air vents in the ceiling and lockers on the wall, some open and containing chemical suits. An identical door lay open in front of him.
He paused with a boot on the threshold. A look of concern flashed momentarily across his face and then was gone. He stepped into a central administration room where several laboratory pods ran off like tentacles, all normally sealed with airtight doors like those that he had already come through. All the doors had been jammed open to allow easy access.
The room still held several dust-covered computers – beige and ancient-looking; probably only with the same processing power as a calculator in this day and age – on desks with browning papers scattered across them. In between each lab entrance were filing cabinets, racks and storage lockers. Crossing to the nearest cabinet, he pulled open the top draw to reveal dozens of crammed folders still in place. A broad smile grew across his face. “Wonderful.”
The light grew dim and the wind and the icy snow showed no signs of letting up. An hour after the reinforcements and intelligence team had arrived, the installation suddenly came under fire.
Mortars and RPGs hit first from positions to the hilly north. Shells and rockets rained down in and around the compound, then infantry moved out of concealed positions less than a hundred metres from the northern perimeter and engaged the scattered defenders.
The mortars continued to rain down on the parking area, amongst parked AAPCs, TAS5380 20 ton trucks and EQ2050 Hummer-based multipurpose vehicles. A TAS and an EQ immediately burst into flames from direct hits. A Type 77-II followed, a round landing squarely on the roof and belching flames out of the gun ports and blowing the roof hatch clear up into the night air.
The chatter of gunfire rippled along the lines of those behind and beyond the fence. PLA marines were dug into shallow foxholes in the muck and snow which offered little protection. Of the platoon-sized immediate defence, half were killed in or around their foxholes in the first five minutes of the firefight. Two further platoons were despatched to hold the line while AAPCs were rallied to flank the attacking forces.
The initial assault was repelled, but not without heavy losses on both sides. Brigade ordered an immediate retreat, informing the Intelligence team leader to pull as much information from the labs as possible in the short time remaining.
In the respite, Gong began the withdrawal as soon as he finished speaking to HQ. One platoon would hold back for a rear guard action to cover the retreat. The rest of the two companies pulled out immediately, leaving the five man intelligence team and the rear guard.
Sat in the commander’s hatch of his AAPC, Gong’s gaze remained fixed on the cluster of buildings as they pulled away. A tinge of regret played through his mind. He just hoped that they managed to salvage something from this. More than thirty of his men already lay dead and more would surely die before they were back into PLA controlled territory.
Speaking into his headset, he said, “Chang, are the intelligence team clear yet?”
“No, sir,” came the curt reply. “The Zong Wei asks for one more minute.”
As Gong’s AAPC drove through the gates, picking up speed, the second assault began. Explosions rippled throughout the installation, throwing a flickering orange glow across the frozen terrain. “Pull out immediately. His time is up,” Gong ordered then coughed dryly several times, his shoulders hunching over with the brief spasms in his chest. Typical, possibly the most important war in the history of the People’s Republic of China was raging all around him, and he was getting a cold.
As the remaining marines and the intelligence unit began a hasty retreat in two AAPCs and an EQ2050, a brilliant flash lit up the night sky, like throwing open curtains to a bright summer’s morning. The flash was immediately followed by an earth trembling explosion.
Even with the stormy conditions, a mile away, Gong still witnessed the dazzling display. The installation had been utterly incinerated and his men along with it. Only a thick mushroomed black cloud remained which was quickly buffeted by the elements.
It was later discovered that the location had been struck by a long range Russian Kh-101 cruise missile with a 1000kg conventional HE payload. None of the secrets that were held within the underground laboratory were recovered.
After de-briefing back at brigade HQ (the commandeered town hall in Maiya, south-east of Yakutsk), Gong, feeling a little queasy, retired to try to get some sleep. A tormented, restless night ended with him waking with a raging fever, shivering and lathered in a cold sweat. Twelve of his company fell ill with him on that first morning after.
The Killing Moon
By Rod Glenn & Jamie Mitchell
Prologue
The imminent future…
Iraq and Afghanistan become increasingly unstable. Coalition forces and flimsy infrastructures struggle to cope…
Iran, Syria and Pakistan are openly accused of assisting and funding terrorist insurgents…
Israel sees renewed missile attacks inland as far as Haifa. This provokes a strong knee-jerk reaction and Israeli forces once again storm across the Litani to neutralize the threat…
A leaked government document states that U.S. oil reserves have been grossly exaggerated. At current burn rates, U.S. oil fields will run dry within 5-10 years…
A senior executive at Petrofac turns whistle-blower and reveals evidence that the North Sea oil fields are due to run dry within 10 years…
In an unprecedented address, the President of the United States admits that continued U.S. involvement in Iraq is now solely due to diminishing world supplies of oil. For the security and stability of the nation, the Iraqi oil fields are to be seized by Coalition forces…
Overnight, Iraq is thrown into turmoil and what seems like the entire nation rise up against the Coalition. Afghanistan immediately follows suit…
The Secretary-General to the United Nations calls for calm and a time to reflect and for countries to consider their actions. He also urges for a reversal of U.S. policy for Iraq and a timeframe for a measured withdrawal. The U.S. point blank refuses as they prepare a major force to restore control in Iraq. The UK agrees and begins making plans for a full and immediate withdrawal from Iraq…
In response, U.S. forces are immediately withdrawn from Afghanistan, leaving UK and Australian forces in a desperate situation…
Using Iran and Syria’s terrorist activities as an excuse, Israel launches pre-emptive surgical strikes on both countries’ infrastructure…
The Arab states are unilaterally incensed and respond. Iran, Syria, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Jordan form the Middle East Alliance and declare war on Israel. Only Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates remain neutral…
With a major conflict in the Middle East and facing an imminent oil crisis, stock markets struggle and the world economy at first falters, then takes a rapid nose-dive…
With all eyes on the Middle East, Kuwait and the UAE fold under the pressure and join the newly formed Middle East Alliance…
After suffering huge losses in Afghanistan, remaining Coalition forces are finally evacuated, leaving a country gripped with civil war…
All Coalition forces, except for the U.S., evacuate Iraq once additional U.S. reinforcements arrive to bolster the embroiled troops…
Israeli forces clash with a multinational Middle East Alliance force on the Lebanese/Syrian border. Israel manages to push MEA forces back to Damascus…
A second MEA contingent pushes through from Jordan into the Golan Heights…
With international attention diverted, China moves to take advantage of the current crisis and masses forces on its northern border. They then move en mass across the Amur into Russia to seize the Siberian Lowland oil reserves…
Chapter 1
An icy wind was gusting across the dark, turbulent waters of the Amur River. Night had dropped like the curtain after the encore. Several oriental white storks nesting on the muddy banks suddenly took flight, startled by something unseen and unheard. A moment later, the first shelling commenced.
Nine Artillery brigades, consisting of static pieces, self propelled units and multiple launch rocket systems, from positions from Mohe to Heihe, opened fire in unison to coincide with multiple air strikes. Wave upon wave of Su-27, J-7 and J-8 fighters roared overhead, amidst formations of ground attack and bombers, including JH-7s, H-6s and Q-5s.
The pounding of distant explosions was the catalyst for the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) heavily bolstered Second Army to surge forth towards the sacred Black River. A force of 250,000 troops and four armoured divisions mobilised and began the lengthy process of crossing the Amur into Russia. At the same time, paratroopers were being dropped into Khabarovsk to seize the strategically important Khabarovsk Railway and Road Bridge.
The artillery barrage and air strikes took a heavy toll on the Russian Far Eastern Military District defences, under the command of Army General Vladimir Bulgakov. Of the 5th and 35th Armies and his four Motor Rifle Divisions and four Machine-Gun/Artillery Divisions, approximately half were quickly destroyed or routed. Those forces that were not, quickly found themselves under heavy assault. Confused and contradicting orders further fuelled the chaos amongst the struggling defenders. The 14th Separate Brigade of Special Designation (Spetsnaz with an attachment of Alfa Group Counter-Terrorist unit), normally headquartered in Ussuriysk, along with one Motor Rifle Division and elements of one Machine-Gun/Artillery Division were hastily assembled at the Khabarovsk headquarters in a desperate attempt to hold the strategic position. Bloody street to street fighting ensued.
Shang Jiang (General) Lo Gangchuan had made a rare visit to Staging Area #1 to witness first hand this historic occasion. A gaggle of other senior ranking officers stood in a loose cluster behind him with a mixture of expressions, ranging from excitement to trepidation. The aging commander’s deeply wrinkled face broadened into a wide grin as he waved furiously at a column of Type 77 armoured personnel carriers (APCs) as they roared by, churning up thick clods of muck. Soldiers and personnel were dashing to and fro amidst the thundering of engines.
Gangchuan’s attention was drawn skyward as three Z-9 attack helicopters whooshed overhead. He clasped his hands together, thoroughly pleased with the operation so far. To be put in command of such a titanic operation was the highest honour indeed and he thoroughly intended everything to go completely to plan.
He turned to the nearest officer, a Shao Jiang (Major General) and, his smile gone, said, “Next stop; Yakutsk.”
The skyline of the industrial city and port of Khabarovsk was a shimmering orange from the aftermath of the initial artillery and air barrage. Factories, telecommunications and other military targets had taken the brunt and now fires raged unattended as a blanket of paratroopers rained down on the southern and north eastern sectors of the city. Fighters, indistinguishable in the smoke-filled sky, continued to clash high above for air superiority, mere streaking blurs in the darkness. An occasional orange fireball would signal the end of one unfortunate crew or another.
Major Viktor Arbatov, commander of 2nd Battalion, 14th Separate Brigade of Special Designation, had set up his field operations in an unimposing pastel-blue neighbourhood orthodox church. The church was situated in the north eastern suburb of Aviagorodok, on the southern tip of Khabarovsk Airport. Battalion staff were still unloading equipment from the flatbeds when the first voice shouted.
“Look!”
Major Arbatov and several others nearby looked at the man and followed his raised finger into the sky. Hundreds of open parachutes loomed out of the darkness.
“Oh God,” a young gefreiter muttered in disbelief.
Arbatov shot a fierce glance towards the man. “Get hold of yourself, private.” Turning away, his eyes sought a scrawny and weathered non-commissioned officer. Spotting him several yards away with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his upturned face, he said, “Starshina!”
The NCO snapped too immediately. “Yes, Sir!”
“Organise the immediate withdrawal of the field HQ to the rally point at Bolshaya Street.” Without awaiting his response, he turned to the senior lieutenant at his side and said, “Grachev, I want two companies dug in here, one to remain with the field HQ and one in reserve at the north end of the cemetery.”
“Yes, Sir,” Grachev replied immediately and turned to leave.
“We are going to hold Aviagorodok from these slants or die where we stand. And I will be here to ensure it. Do you understand, Grachev?”
The senior lieutenant stared into his battalion commander’s brilliant blue eyes and drew courage from the determination there. “Yes, Sir!”
Sporadic gunfire abruptly broke out from several directions and, glancing upwards, tracers could be seen cutting through the darkness.
The street was thick with smoke and blocked by the smouldering wreckage of a flatbed truck. The pastel-blue church was missing half a wall and the bell tower and was a raging inferno of belching flames. Arbatov glanced at it for a moment from his position across the street in a brick house. His face was smeared with muck, but the look of anger was unmistakable.
Gunfire peppered the building and explosions and gunfire merged into one all around, shaking the very foundations. The two-story home had been turned into the Company CP and aid station. All around him, dozens of his men were lying bleeding, some missing limbs, some with field dressings and some still. Their cries echoed in his ears, intertwining with the battle all around. Two medics ceaselessly rushed between each man.
The lounge/dining room had been cleared of all furniture, but a few personal effects, like photographs and pictures on the walls, still remained. Some were smashed and bullet-ridden, but a framed painting of the Khabarovsk coat of arms remained unscathed. It depicted the bear and tiger supporting a yellow, blue and white shield between them and the year of the city’s foundation, 1858, below. The Spetsnaz Major turned his attention from the burning church to the small painting on the wall.
As another rocket-propelled grenade struck the upper level, sending a tremor through the structure and raining chunks of plaster and dust onto their heads, a single tear ran down Arbatov’s dirty cheek.
Several darkened figures came into view beyond the destroyed truck and he immediately recognised them as PLA paratroopers. He drew up his AKS-74UN carbine and switched to semi-automatic mode as he sighted through the night vision scope for the furthest away. They were advancing in twos up the street, watchful and crouching low, attempting a flanking manoeuvre.
Arbatov squeezed the trigger and was sighting the second target even as the first was dropping to the ground with a bullet through his forehead. The PLA soldiers reacted as one, scattering for cover. Arbatov expertly picked off three more with three round bursts to each before their return fire tore through the window and wooden frame.
He ducked down behind the low wall, shouting, “Suppressing fire!”
As two soldiers rushed to the second window with a view of the street, a grenade was tossed through the window and landed a couple of feet away from the Major. He moved to grab it instinctively as he heard the clatter of a second unseen grenade.
“Grenades!” he screamed as they exploded in unison.
With the collapse of Khabarovsk and the Far Eastern command, PLA forces swept north over the Aldan to Yakutsk and the Artic Circle and their first objective; the East Siberian Lowland oil basin. Once the first objective was secured, they would then advance across Siberia to the West Siberian Lowland to secure the largest remaining oil reserve on Earth. Retreating Federation forces were rallied and reinforced on the western banks of the Lena. As the PLA approached, some 300,000 Russian troops had been amassed (75% of those being conscripts), along with a single tank division. The Lena had become the new Eastern Front.
With Russian air superiority maintained along the new front, tactical nuclear weapons were yet to be authorised. But the finger was firmly on the button.
Forces were reduced throughout the Federation to reinforce the frontline. In Chechnya, rebel forces seized on the opportunity to renew attacks on government forces, further destabilising the area.
Russian Command considered it inconceivable for the Chinese to open a second front on the Chinese-Russian Western Sector, so further weakened the Siberian MD to strengthen the Eastern Front. This proved to be catastrophic in every sense of the word.
As a PLA reconnaissance company headed further north beyond Yakutsk, probing for possible flanking or backdoor routes across the Lena, at the same time around 150,000 PLA soldiers and two armoured divisions moved across the border around Yining with artillery and air support. For the Federation, elements of the 2nd Army, a motor rifle division and a machine-gun/artillery division stood in their way.
The 74th Motorised Brigade out of Yurga was heading for the Eastern Front when news broke of the second front opening up. Major General Farid Balaliyev immediately re-routed to the new front to help bolster General Nikolai Makarov’s depleted force.
As fighting intensified on both fronts, the small, almost insignificant recon company, attached to the 1st Marine Brigade, originally out of Zhanjiang Guangdong, moved further north of Yakutsk. The brigade commander, Wang Gejun, had ordered them to find a way through the federation lines.
They had travelled across barren, frozen tundra, almost to the foothills of the khrebets, passed the tiny settlement of Ebe-Basa. Fighting through minus thirty degree temperatures and gusting, icy gales, the unit had reached the edge of its patrol range when the lead Type-77II Amphibious-APC ordered the column to a halt.
After a brief conversation with the lead TC, Shang Wei (Captain) Gong Qian, conversed with brigade HQ for further instructions. The response was brisk, but not unexpected. The installation that Chang’s unit had spotted up ahead would be investigated, despite being just outside of their patrol range.
Gong was a slender man, slight of frame and softly spoken. He had originally wanted to be a teacher before service, but had, over the years, become content with his role in the PLA. He had not had a great deal of combat experience, but had proved to be an excellent leader and tactician. “Shao Wei Chang,” he spoke into his headset to the point AAPC, “we are to proceed. Move out.”
A ten foot wire fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the group of squad ice-covered concrete buildings. The icy wind howled between the dark, bland structures. The area in front of the buildings that could have been a car park was deserted and devoid of any tracks. The few sparse windows were sheathed in thick ice and only blackness lay beyond.
A small gatehouse stood next to mesh double gates; it too dark and disused. The lead AAPC pulled up to it with a grinding clamour that was all but lost within the storm. Snow and ice whipped up around the flanks of the grumbling metal beast. After a moment, the vehicle lurched forward and crashed through the gates, tearing them down as if they were made of rice paper.
The AAPC drove slowly along the hundred metre track and pulled up near the larger central building. Even before it had halted, the side hatches swung open and artic-clad soldiers hastily disembarked. They fanned out in twos to check the perimeter, before four remaining men approached a frost-encrusted heavy steel door.
While two of the soldiers set shaped charges on the lock and hinges, the rest of the recon company pulled into the compound, leaving one AAPC at the rear which pulled in behind the gatehouse.
After blowing the main door, the PLA marines conducted a room to room search of the buildings. They turned out to be long abandoned and as lifeless and cold as tombs. It quickly revealed all the hallmarks of a defunct cold war communications station. Much of the equipment still remained in situ; old, rusting and inoperable. Bedding, old and smelling of foist, remained on all the bunks, dishevelled, but still useable. Traces of personal memorabilia also adorned some of the foot lockers and walls – a postcard of the Minsk skyline, a black and white photograph of a pretty young woman, smiling for the camera, and a dog-eared German edition of The Catcher in the Rye. The galley and pantry too remained well stocked with grubby utensils and out of date canned goods. Here and there a crate or box had been dropped or discarded, its spilled contents left and forgotten.
One such box caught Gong’s attention. Pushing the furry hood back off his head, he bent down to examine the contents. Petri dishes and glass vials had scattered out onto the bare concrete floor, some broken many years ago and a few more crunched under a careless PLA boot.
He picked one intact vial up with a thick gloved hand and looked closely at it, frowning. His pluming breath briefly misted the clear glass. What was lab equipment doing in a cold war listening post? The vial appeared clean and unused.
Gong ordered for a temporary Command Post (CP) to be set up in what appeared to be a control room and then ordered for a more thorough search of the complex. After giving a sit-rep to brigade, a young Lie Bing appeared in the open doorway and said, “Sir, we have found a concealed elevator.”
Handing the headset back to the radio operator, Gong said, “Show me.”
The private led Gong down a gloomy corridor. A low moaning was the only evidence of the storm outside; it followed them everywhere. At the end of the corridor, a door was being held open by another Lie Bing. Torchlight could be seen beyond.
He paused to glance at the door. It appeared featureless and, when closed, would blend into the wall with only mere cracks to betray its existence. “Good work,” he said to no one in particular and then stepped across the threshold.
He entered a small annex which was lit by the flashlights of two soldiers. The senior, an Ir Ji Shi Guan (sergeant), turned away from the closed elevator doors to acknowledge his commanding officer. “Sir, we stumbled upon this room quite by accident. We’re just waiting for a crowbar to get this elevator open – we’re still waiting on getting a generator up and running.”
Gong nodded and surveyed the dark, dusty room. It was bare and grey, like the rest of the installation with only one small engraved plaque on the wall beside the elevator call button. His Russian was poor, but he managed to decipher the words: RESTRICTED: LEVEL FIVE CLEARANCE ONLY.
“I want to know what is down there,” he said, his thoughts suddenly filled with hidden secrets and an imminent promotion.
Once the elevator doors had been prized open, the sergeant swept the empty carriage with his flashlight, then stepped inside. Glancing around, he said, “Looks like just a single sub-level.” Just then the panel lit up and an internal light winked on. “We’ve got some power by the looks of it.”
Gong nodded toward a light switch, which the private by the door flicked on. The strip light above them flashed several times then stabilised. He smiled, pleased with both himself and the efficiency of his men. “Take Zhang with you and scout out the lower level. Once secure, let me know.”
The sergeant nodded and waved for a private to join him in the carriage. He shrugged his CAR95 carbine off his shoulder before pressing the button.
The minutes ticked by, painfully slow, before a grinding and clunking noise signalled the return of the carriage. The sergeant was alone. “It is a laboratory, Sir. Classified material by the look of it. My guess is biological research.”
Brigade was extremely happy with the find. Wang Gejun himself came onto the radio to congratulate Gong and his unit. His new orders were for Gong to hold the position. He was going to despatch an additional company, along with an intelligence unit to properly investigate the find.
While his junior officers oversaw the fortification of their position and the deployment of patrols, Gong descended alone in the clanking elevator. Many of the overhead lights were no longer working, but there were enough to take the edge off the gloom. With his hands behind his back, he strolled past the soldier standing guard to one side of the elevator doors through an office/security area. A thick glass-fronted airtight door wedged open led him into a small room with air vents in the ceiling and lockers on the wall, some open and containing chemical suits. An identical door lay open in front of him.
He paused with a boot on the threshold. A look of concern flashed momentarily across his face and then was gone. He stepped into a central administration room where several laboratory pods ran off like tentacles, all normally sealed with airtight doors like those that he had already come through. All the doors had been jammed open to allow easy access.
The room still held several dust-covered computers – beige and ancient-looking; probably only with the same processing power as a calculator in this day and age – on desks with browning papers scattered across them. In between each lab entrance were filing cabinets, racks and storage lockers. Crossing to the nearest cabinet, he pulled open the top draw to reveal dozens of crammed folders still in place. A broad smile grew across his face. “Wonderful.”
The light grew dim and the wind and the icy snow showed no signs of letting up. An hour after the reinforcements and intelligence team had arrived, the installation suddenly came under fire.
Mortars and RPGs hit first from positions to the hilly north. Shells and rockets rained down in and around the compound, then infantry moved out of concealed positions less than a hundred metres from the northern perimeter and engaged the scattered defenders.
The mortars continued to rain down on the parking area, amongst parked AAPCs, TAS5380 20 ton trucks and EQ2050 Hummer-based multipurpose vehicles. A TAS and an EQ immediately burst into flames from direct hits. A Type 77-II followed, a round landing squarely on the roof and belching flames out of the gun ports and blowing the roof hatch clear up into the night air.
The chatter of gunfire rippled along the lines of those behind and beyond the fence. PLA marines were dug into shallow foxholes in the muck and snow which offered little protection. Of the platoon-sized immediate defence, half were killed in or around their foxholes in the first five minutes of the firefight. Two further platoons were despatched to hold the line while AAPCs were rallied to flank the attacking forces.
The initial assault was repelled, but not without heavy losses on both sides. Brigade ordered an immediate retreat, informing the Intelligence team leader to pull as much information from the labs as possible in the short time remaining.
In the respite, Gong began the withdrawal as soon as he finished speaking to HQ. One platoon would hold back for a rear guard action to cover the retreat. The rest of the two companies pulled out immediately, leaving the five man intelligence team and the rear guard.
Sat in the commander’s hatch of his AAPC, Gong’s gaze remained fixed on the cluster of buildings as they pulled away. A tinge of regret played through his mind. He just hoped that they managed to salvage something from this. More than thirty of his men already lay dead and more would surely die before they were back into PLA controlled territory.
Speaking into his headset, he said, “Chang, are the intelligence team clear yet?”
“No, sir,” came the curt reply. “The Zong Wei asks for one more minute.”
As Gong’s AAPC drove through the gates, picking up speed, the second assault began. Explosions rippled throughout the installation, throwing a flickering orange glow across the frozen terrain. “Pull out immediately. His time is up,” Gong ordered then coughed dryly several times, his shoulders hunching over with the brief spasms in his chest. Typical, possibly the most important war in the history of the People’s Republic of China was raging all around him, and he was getting a cold.
As the remaining marines and the intelligence unit began a hasty retreat in two AAPCs and an EQ2050, a brilliant flash lit up the night sky, like throwing open curtains to a bright summer’s morning. The flash was immediately followed by an earth trembling explosion.
Even with the stormy conditions, a mile away, Gong still witnessed the dazzling display. The installation had been utterly incinerated and his men along with it. Only a thick mushroomed black cloud remained which was quickly buffeted by the elements.
It was later discovered that the location had been struck by a long range Russian Kh-101 cruise missile with a 1000kg conventional HE payload. None of the secrets that were held within the underground laboratory were recovered.
After de-briefing back at brigade HQ (the commandeered town hall in Maiya, south-east of Yakutsk), Gong, feeling a little queasy, retired to try to get some sleep. A tormented, restless night ended with him waking with a raging fever, shivering and lathered in a cold sweat. Twelve of his company fell ill with him on that first morning after.