Battlefield Korea: Book Two of the Red Storm Series Read online

  Pappi knew if he started the car there, chances were the owner would hear it. Instead, he placed the vehicle in neutral and undid the parking brake. Then he positioned his hands on the frame of the driver side door and began to gently push the car backwards down the driveway. As he neared the road, he turned the steering wheel slightly, angling the car onto the road.

  Once the vehicle was on the road, he pushed it a little further, to make sure he was not directly in front of the house he had just stolen it from, and then he began to look for the wires under the steering column that would allow him to hotwire the car. It took him a few minutes to find the right wires and a few false starts, but eventually the engine of the Lada Priora roared to life. With the vehicle running, he hopped in and opened the glove box. Inside, he found a couple of maps, which he quickly began to look over. He had to estimate where he was since he had no GPS and hadn’t had access to coordinates for some time, but he saw he was not too far from a road that would lead him down to the M-9. If he had calculated correctly, that road would turn into the E-22, which would lead directly to Latvia.

  It was roughly 0000 hours in the morning, and Pappi knew he had roughly eight hours or so until the sun came up. If he was going to make his break for it, he needed to do it at night while there was limited traffic on the roads. After getting turned around once, he found a sign that led him to the M-9. From there, he drove for roughly an hour and then the road turned into the E-22.

  He glanced nervously at the fuel gauge. There was a little more than three quarters of a tank, but he wasn’t sure how far that would take him.

  After nearly two hours on the road, he drove through a couple of small cities and towns. He had seen very few vehicles, and the only ones he did observe were military transport trucks. Many of them were carrying soldiers, towing artillery pieces, or carrying other tools of war. He made sure to keep his distance; he was too close to making it out of Russia to get pulled over for tailgating a military truck or trying to pass a convoy.

  As he got closer to the Latvian/Russian border crossing at Terehova, he spotted a small gas station on the right and pulled over. He was less than a mile from the Latvian border and freedom, but he still wasn’t sure how to get across the border without being stopped by the Russians. Because Latvia was a NATO member, there were a number of Russian infantry fighting vehicles and armored personnel carriers (BMPs and BTRs) blocking the road at the border. Neither side was actively shooting at each other--at the moment, both sides were content to hope the war would stay in Ukraine and not involve them all the way up here.

  Pappi pulled out the map as he parked the Lada behind the gas station. He didn’t want to get any closer to the border with those Russian soldiers guarding it. He needed to figure out another way across without being seen. As he continued to search the map, he found a little dirt road that looked like it ran along the border. Pappi looked up, and sure enough, roughly 50 meters from the gas station, there it was--a small, unassuming dirt road. In that moment, he decided to drive the Lada along that road. He would try to get as close to the border as he could that way, and then either cross on foot or try to ram the vehicle through the border fence if he thought he could.

  Keeping the headlights off, he slowly moved down the dirt road, driving towards freedom. After traveling the small unkept road for a few minutes, he began to see the divide between the two countries. The area was not lit by lights along the border, but a clearing had been cut and a fence ran between it, clearly outlining the demarcation. Pappi pulled the car over off the road and turned it off, angling it slightly so he could get back into the vehicle in a hurry if he needed to.

  He began to walk through the wooded area towards the demarcation line; he wanted to see with his eyes if there were any potential guard towers or roving patrols. As he approached the edge of the trees, he came upon the demarcation line. Looking left, and then right, he spotted two guard towers, roughly 500 meters away from him in either direction. As he inspected the fence, he could see it was roughly twelve feet in height, but did not look to be reinforced with any anti-vehicle rails or traps.

  “I wish I could walk out there and inspect the fence,” Pappi thought. “Maybe I should just go back to the car and try to ram through it.”

  After spending some time considering his options, Pappi glanced down at his watch and saw that it was roughly 0430 in the morning. He knew he needed to decide what he was going to do soon. The sun would be up in a few more hours. Pappi began to walk back to the Lada and started the vehicle. As he fastened his seatbelt, he heard a noise.

  Several Russian soldiers began to approach his vehicle from behind him. They started to yell out to him. Pappi didn’t speak a lick of Russian, but he could tell by the tone of their voices that they were not happy with him.

  In that moment, Pappi knew he needed to make a run for it or he’d become a prisoner of war. He slipped the car into gear, and then floored it. As he sped through first gear and started changing into second gear, the soldiers behind him opened fire with their AK-74s. Bullets began to shatter the rear windows of the Lada. Pappi looked into his driver side rearview mirror and saw one soldier talking on a radio while several others continued to fire more rounds into the car. Then the mirror suddenly shattered as it was hit by one of the bullets.

  As shots continued to fire, his rear tires suddenly blew out. Pappi charged ahead, adrenaline racing. The engine was roaring as he changed into third gear and continued racing down the road. He was less than a hundred meters from the fence as his car drove into the cleared demarcation line.

  Suddenly, the passenger side window exploded in a cloud of glass and flying shrapnel. More bullets began to punch their way through the passenger side of the vehicle as he neared the fence, shifting into fourth gear.

  As the Lada rammed into the fence, the front of the vehicle nearly came to a halt, catapulting the rear of the car into the air, bending the fence and landing upside down. The engine began to emit a horrible sound and smoke began to fill the car. Pappi unclipped his seatbelt and fell to the roof of the vehicle. He quickly crawled out the driver side window and began to run for his life into the tree line on the Latvian side of the border. As he sprinted, he could hear the whizzing sounds of bullets flying past his head and body, kicking up dirt near his feet.

  Just as he was about to make it into the woods, he felt something hot and hard slam into the back of his right shoulder, throwing him to the ground. As he laid there on the ground, trying to catch his breath, bullets continued to whip overhead, hitting branches and trees, sending flakes of wooden shrapnel flying all around him.

  As he recovered from the shock of being hit, he slowly began to crawl into the woods and away from the gunfire. As he dragged his body along the ground, he heard more shouting. Several vehicles roared towards him. He could tell they were closing in on him, but there was nothing he could do at that point. If these were the Russians, then they had him.

  A small group of soldiers ran towards him with their weapons raised, and as he saw their uniforms, a huge wave of euphoria washed over him. They were Americans.

  An unknown man knelt next to him and spoke in English. “Are you an American?” he asked incredulously.

  At that moment, Pappi knew he had made it to safety. He smiled and answered, “Yes. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Rob Fortney, US Air Force.” Then passed out from his injuries.

  *******

  When he woke up two days later, he discovered he had been transported to the military hospital at Landstuhl in Germany.

  One of the doctors walked in after learning he had regained consciousness. “You are one lucky soldier, son,” he said. From his wrinkles and grey hair, the doctor looked like he had been kept in the military a little longer than normal--he had definitely seen his share of war wounds.

  Pappi was still sort of orienting himself to what was even wrong with his body. He could see plenty of bandages, but at the moment he wasn’t sure how serious it actually was. “What happened to me, D
oc?” he asked.

  “You were shot in the back of the shoulder. It required a series of surgeries to put everything back together. You are stable now, of course, but you are actually going to be flown back to the US for additional surgery and recovery. You are going to have a metal plate where your shoulder blade used to be, and need extensive physical therapy, but honestly, all things considered, it could have been a lot worse.”

  The doctor let that sink in for a few moments before he said, “Listen, there’s an air force intelligence officer waiting outside that wants to ask you some questions about how you got out of there. I told him he’d have to wait for a while until you are up to it. So, take your time, but when you feel like you can tell your story, go ahead and hit this button to turn on your extra light.”

  Pappi nodded. Once he felt like he had his head back on straight, he signaled for the officer to come on into the room. He explained how he had evaded the search party, and then eventually stole a Lada and drove to the border. The officer asked him several questions to clarify, but the conversation was friendly.

  At the end of the interview, Pappi asked, “Hey, do you know anything about my co-pilot?”

  The air force officer’s face fell. “There’s no easy way to tell you this. The Russians captured him and have him listed as a prisoner of war. There’s no further information I can provide to you other than that.”

  Enemies Within

  Following Morning

  Washington, DC

  White House, Oval Office

  It was a beautiful September morning as the leaders of both the Republican and Democrat parties from the House and Senate walked into the Oval Office. It was unusual for them to be called to the White House so early in the day. As they entered the Oval, they all immediately observed that several additional chairs had been brought in so that there would be room for everyone. They could tell it was a serious meeting, seeing that the Director of the FBI and the Attorney General were also in attendance (neither of whom looked very happy).

  As the Congressional leaders took their seats opposite of each other on the couches, the President took his seat at the head arm chair, opposite the Attorney General (AG) and FBI Director. His face was somber, and it looked like he had aged a year or two within a few days.

  “Thank you for coming so early in the morning, everyone,” began the President. “I’ve asked you all to be here today because I felt it was important to make sure the leaders of Congress know what was about to happen and why. As you know, there have been an unprecedented number of intelligence leaks since I have taken office. We have worked to address those leaks, and this morning is the first step in doing just that.”

  The President paused and looked at the AG and FBI Director before continuing, “I’ve asked the Director of the FBI and the AG to be here to explain the facts of the case. The evidence has been collected, and now it’s time to walk you all through it. This is too big a deal for me to not bring your offices into the loop.”

  Concern was written all over the faces in the room. They knew things had not been going well with the war in Ukraine, but this move had them wondering what shoe was about to drop.

  The Director of the FBI and the AG began to lay out the evidence and case against the three congressmen and one senator who had been caught committing espionage against the country. At first, the Senate and Congressional minority leaders thought this was a partisan witch hunt, until they heard the audio records, watched the videos, and read the highlighted portions of both emails and text messages. As the President spoke, the reality of what happened began to set in. They could not believe that members of Congress could commit such an open act of treason against the people they had been elected to represent. The Speaker of the House was equally appalled that one of his caucus (a member who sat on the Armed Services Committee no less) had committed acts of espionage, especially during a war that resulted in US service members being killed. He was seething with anger.

  They were further aghast by the number of other high-level government officials that had been identified in the dragnet. “What is being done about all of this?” asked the Speaker, horrified.

  The AG answered, “These individuals are being arrested right now while this meeting is taking place. A press conference is being scheduled to take place within an hour, at which time, the President will announce the findings. The FBI Director and I will also speak to the press.”

  The President looked intently at both of the party leaders. “I want to assure both sides that despite what we’ve learned today, the war is still going on. The country and our military still need your support. I ask that we put aside our differences and come together as one country, one people, to defeat the Russians and ensure the Chinese do not threaten our allies.”

  Gates thought to himself, “Man, I hope the Congressional leaders can finally unite for the good of the country.”

  As the meeting broke up, everyone headed to the White House press room to watch the President give his address. The media largely sat there in stunned silence, shocked by the information the President had just given them. Many suddenly realized they had been played by Russian intelligence, that they had unwittingly been a pawn of a foreign power. When the AG and the Director of the FBI laid out the evidence, it suddenly became clear how they had also been complicit in all of this.

  Once the statements were complete, there was about fifteen seconds of complete silence. However, as soon as the first journalist raised their hand to start asking a question, the room erupted into a din of hungry wolves, each trying to speak over one another to get their words heard above the others. The Attorney General and the Director of the FBI managed to stay professional despite the ravenous crowd.

  The American people were enraged by these revelations. On social media, the vast majority of the country was fuming, railing against the Russians and the Chinese for their involvement. People were demanding a response, calling for action. Most of all, people wanted revenge.

  Pacific Pivot

  50 Miles East of Okinawa, Japan

  Rear Admiral James Lomas was spoiling for a fight as the USS Carl Vinson raced towards Okinawa. His good friend, Rear Admiral Munch, had been killed the other day when the remnants of his carrier strike group had been destroyed in the Black Sea. It was bad enough to suffer the defeat of the Bush carrier group--losing his friend and several thousand sailors, many of whom he had served with, only added to the insult.

  Unfortunately, his strike group was not being transferred to the Atlantic to fight the Russians. They had been ordered to leave San Diego and head for Okinawa. They were going to link up with the Reagan carrier strike group and bolster the US presence in the Pacific. If things did not turn into unmitigated conflict with the Chinese, then they may head up to the North Pacific and attack the Russian Pacific fleet. A couple of Russian submarines had already been sunk in the Pacific since the start of the war.

  Captain Michael Richards, the captain of the Carl Vinson Supercarrier, walked up to the admiral, handing him a report that had just come in from one of their destroyers. “Sir, one of the destroyers is reporting a submarine contact, roughly sixty miles from our current position,” he announced.

  Admiral Lomas took the report and digested the information quickly. Sixty miles was still outside their designated protective bubble. “Do we know if its Russian or Chinese?” he asked, hoping to get some better clarity on the threat.

  “It appears to be Chinese. A Yuan-class, one of their newest and quietest diesel submarines. I ordered additional anti-submarine warfare (ASW) assets to the area,” the captain said, wanting to assure the Admiral that he was taking every precaution he could.

  “Excellent job, Captain. Send a message over to the Reagan and let them know of the contact as well. I want to make sure they are tracking the submarine. The last thing we need is for one of our carriers to get ambushed by a Russian or Chinese submarine,” instructed the admiral.

  Admiral Lomas turned to find his operations
officer. “Commander Ryan, what is the status of the PLAN fleet in the area?” he asked, wanting to know if the Chinese had any serious naval assets nearby.

  Commander Ryan had been the operations officer on the Carl Vinson for two years. Prior to that, he had done a tour at US Pacific Command. Much of his naval career had been spent in the Pacific, so he was well-versed in what the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN) was capable of.

  “Sir, in our area, they appear to only have a handful of destroyers and roughly a dozen submarines,” Commander Ryan replied. “The majority of their ships, including their three carriers, are south of us off the coast of Vietnam, supporting their ground forces.” As he spoke, Ryan pointed out the locations of the various ships on the digital map board.

  The admiral took a moment to zoom in on the different types of PLAN subs for himself. “Hmm…” he thought. “This seems odd.”

  “Why do you suppose they have nearly all their advanced submarines up north here with us, as opposed to down south with the bulk of their fleet?” Lomas asked.

  “I thought about that earlier today. The best assumption I could come up with is that they know their surface ships would not fare well against ours. It’s their submarines that can cause us some damage. They are most likely keeping their prized subs in our area, in case they feel a need to use them. Frankly Admiral, I do not believe them to be a threat right now. They have stripped most of the land-based aircraft from our area of responsibility and sent them down south to support their ground operations in Vietnam. If they were planning something against our fleet, I don’t think they would have stripped away so much of their land-based air support units along with nearly half of their sub fleet,” Commander Ryan responded. He sounded confident, but the admiral could tell that he was just offering up his best educated guess.

  Thinking for a minute and then examining the map further, Admiral Lomas had to agree with that assessment as well. It appeared that the Chinese were going to gobble up some of their neighbors, knowing full well that the Americans were powerless to stop them for the time being, with the Russian war raging on. It angered him to realize how impotent the US had become. There was a time when the US had the ability to fight two major armed conflicts at the same time; those days appeared to be gone.