The Last War: 370.

[Bernard Woolley]

With thanks to Jotun.

*

D+28

*


1402 hours GMT. South of Monbetsu, Hokkaido, Japan.
Acting Major General Bailey was driving back to his headquarters after the meeting with Lieutenant General Watson. He had a lot to sort out before he formally took command of Task Force Chauvel. One of which was choosing who would take command of his brigade. His deputy commander was the obvious choice, which would mean selecting a new deputy. However, that was something he could leave to his successor.

At least the issue of casualty replacements was sorted out, as his infantry units were on average at 75% of their strength, with some significantly lower. 2 Royal Australian Regiment, for example, had been forced to disband one of its rifle companies to make up losses in the others. Equipment was less of an issue, a lot of damaged, or knocked out armoured vehicles could be salvage and repaired. Some replacement vehicles were also due to arrive in the next convoy. He would have to see if he could scrounge some soft-skin vehicles from the Japanese, or South Koreans, though.

The Land Cruiser driving ahead of Bailey’s Land Rover Perentie suddenly exploded in a bright flash, which lifted it into the air. The burning wreck was thrown across the road.

“Ambush!” The RACMP corporal sitting in the front passenger seat yelled. “Go! Go! Go!”

The driver put his foot down. Getting clear of the ‘killing zone’ was vital in an ambush. However, a couple of bursts of gunfire slammed into the front of the Perentie, killing both the driver and corporal. The vehicle slewed across the road and crashed into a ditch.

Dazed from the crash, Bailey shook his head to clear it. He wondered for a moment what the ‘pings’ he could hear were.

“We have to go, Sir!” Major Killian yelled, pulling at his left arm.

Bailey let himself be pulled out of the Perentie. He caught sight of Major Kusanagi crouched by the back wheel, firing a Minebea PM-9 Submachine Gun towards their ambushers.

“Head for cover over there, Sir! Get away from the vehicle!” Killian yelled at him.

Bailey did as he was told, dropping down into the ditch a short distance away. He drew his Browning pistol and looked back towards the Perentie. Killian had taken a M4A5 from the dead military policemen and was firing over the bonnet to cover Kusanagi while she jogged to where Bailey was sheltering. She managed to find and throw a smoke grenade before running for cover herself.

“How are we off for ammo?” Killian asked, once she had taken cover.
“I have two and a half magazines for my PM-9 and two magazines for my pistol.” Kusanagi replied.
“I have the mag in my pistol and one spare.” Bailey told her.
“Well, I hope we don’t have to fight a full-on battle.” Killian observed. “I wasn’t able to get any spare mags for this carbine and I’ve fired at least fifteen rounds. After that I have the mag in my pistol, plus two spares.”
“We should be okay, Bailey san, so long as we do not need to fight Gojira or some sort of spider-tank.” Kusanagi observed with a slight smile. “We have regular patrols, both helicopter and ground vehicles along the roads. We should only need to hold out till one of them arrives.”
“Well, I do hope you’re right, Major.” Bailey replied, far from convinced.

Bailey thought for a moment. ‘Godzilla and spider-tank’ he wondered. What on earth was the normally serious Japanese major on about?

1510 hours GMT. H.Q GRU, Moscow, RSFSR.
“…can only be described as a crushing victory over the Soviet Navy.” The American reporter said.

Captain Rezun, a member of the Far Eastern Working Group, paused the video and pressed rewind on the remote control for the Japanese VCR. The reporter was standing on the flight deck of USS Abraham Lincoln, and he had spotted something on the background he wanted to look at again.

“While some US vessels have suffered damage, no major American vessel have been sunk.”

Rezun paused the video again. He squinted at the screen; behind the reporter he could see another flat-topped warship. It was a little fuzzy, but he thought he recognised a Tarawa or Wasp class amphibious assault ship. He pressed play again.

“And with the losses we know the Soviets have suffered the battle this task force so recently fought can only be described…”

There was the other ship he had seen! Rezun hurriedly stabbed at the pause button again. He called across to one of his colleagues who was a naval officer.

“Ivan Petrovich, you know these American vessels better than me. What do you think that ship is?” He said tapping the TV screen.
“Hmmm, it’s either a Harpers Ferry or Whidbey Island class landing ship dock. Not something I’d expect to see with a carrier strike group. Have you seen something else in this video, Sergei Ivanovich?”

Rezun nodded and rewound the video again.

“…No major American…”

“There!” He said. “I think that’s a Tarawa or Wasp class vessel.”

The other GRU officer peered at the screen for a few moments before giving his opinion.

“I believe it’s a Tarawa. The quality of the image is not great, but the shape of the superstructure of the ship looks more like that class than a Wasp. Have you seen any more amphibious vessels in the film?”

Rezun shook his head.

“Just those two.”
“Well, I think it fits well with some other intelligence we’ve seen. Good work, Sergei Ivanovich.”

*

The Director of the GRU, General Valentin Korabelnikov, put the report back down on his desk and looked up at the Colonel who headed the Far East Working Group.

“So, you think this OPLAN Lehman is a credible threat, Comrade Colonel?”
“Yes, Comrade Director.” The Colonel replied. “We have the article from the New York Times, a newspaper with a reputation of leaking official information. Then there are the partially decrypted signals, including to the commander of the American task force in the North Pacific, that refer to OPLAN Lehman. Now we have proof of amphibious vessels operating with that very task force. Not to mention information from assets in Hawai’i that two amphibious vessels recently sailed from the naval base there.”

Korabelnikov swivelled around in his chair and looked out of the window of his office. He stared at the skyline of Moscow while he thought. As the director of a major intelligence agency, he was naturally suspicious and was more than aware that the Americans were capable of creating a maskirovka. But, on this scale? He turned back to the Colonel.

“The story in the New York Times could be a plant.” He commented.
“I would normally agree, Comrade Director. However, we know that the Chairman of the company that owns the newspaper phoned the editor shortly after the story was published, demanding it be removed. The newspaper’s Washington and Defence Correspondents had their accreditation removed for four days, showing that the American government seriously disapproved of the story. We also have intelligence that the Pentagon conducted a ‘mole hunt’ for the source quoted in the story. The riot that set fire to their building was certainly real enough.”
“Retaining marine forces in northern Japan and despatching others to Alaska would certainly suggest that the Americans plan to do something with them.” Korabelnikov declared. “What news is there from Japan?”

The Colonel consulted another document before replying.

“Our source within the Japanese Defence Agency has reported that the Japanese government is pressuring the Americans to mount an operation against the Kuril Islands and, or Sakhalin. Our raid on Hokkaido really rattled them.”
“Which was one of its objectives.” Korabelnikov commented. “However, it would fit with the suggestion that there are at least two, or three portions to this Lehman plan. The name would also fit with the American habit of giving operations and plans names relating to the objective.”
“In this case the so-called Lehman Doctrine, which called for an invasion of our Far East, Comrade Director.” The Colonel offered.

Korabelnikov nodded in agreement. Something still did bother him about OPLAN Lehman. In some ways it seemed too pat, the fragments of intelligence to convenient. Yet, the threat of American operations against the Soviet Far East could not be ignored.

“Good work to you and your staff, Colonel.” He said. “I will pass your report to the Defence Council. In the meantime, we need more information on OPLAN Lehman. Request reconnaissance flights of the areas where American amphibious forces may be assembling and put in a request for satellite time too.”
“Yes, Comrade Director.”

1614 hours GMT. Over the Banda Sea.
The period of stand-down had done him a power of good, Wing Commander Gavin ‘Gav’ Bruce thought. Which was a good thing considering the mission that 75 Squadron had been given. Four of the squadron’s F/A-18A+ Hornets had been assigned, alongside six Hornets of 77 Squadron, RAAF, to escort an RF-111C of No.1 Squadron, which was to conduct a reconnaissance run over the Soviet base on the island of Ambon. With only four aircraft in service and two of those being deployed overseas, the RF-111C was considered a very important strategic asset. Which was why, as well as ten fighters, some of which were configured for SEAD, the escort also included an EF-111D ‘Spark Pig’.

*

Until a couple of days ago the only threat to Allied aircraft had come from an air defence battalion equipped with the 2S6. However, a group of Soviet ‘advisors’ attached to Skadron Udara 11 had somehow managed to ‘steal’ six Su-27SK from Hasanuddin Air Base and had flown them to Ambon. They had been joined a day later by four Su-39K flown out of Kupang a few hours before the Indonesian rebels in West Timor had surrendered to Allied forces.

There was also one additional threat that had prompted the reconnaissance flight. A Soviet freighter loaded with the equipment for an SA-20 (S-300PMU1/2) battalion had been docked in Jakarta on the day war broke out. Waiting for onward passage to Ambon. The Allies had lost track of it, American reconnaissance flights over the Indonesian capital revealing that its berth was empty. With a range of approximately 125km, if the battalion was to become operational, it would be a serious threat to any friendly aircraft operating over the Banda Sea. Moreover, it would seriously complicate any potential invasion of Ambon.

*

Bruce’s Hornets and two of the Australin aircraft were armed for pure air-to-air, with the remaining four RAAF aircraft being armed with HARM. These four F/A-18 would accompany the RF-111C for part of its run in, with the others forming a TARCAP in case any Su-27 got airborne.

“Starting the music.” Bruce heard in his earphones, a phrase indicating that the ‘Spark Pig’ was beginning its jamming mission.
“Beginning our run.”

The RF-111C had accelerated in a shallow dive, leaving his Hornet escort behind as it began its overflight. Leading his flight into a race-track pattern, Bruce kept a regular eye on his radar display, which was currently showing data-linked information from an E-7A Wedgetail.

“Wedge Two-Two to Falcon and Dingo Flights; you have hostiles lifting off from Ambon.” The Fighter Controller aboard the Wedgetail warned.

Bruce checked his radar and saw that four contacts climbing away from the Soviet base on the island had been highlighted by the Fighter Controller.

“Falcon One-One, acknowledged.”
“Dingo Two-One, acknowledged.”

‘WEE! WEE! WEE!’

Bruce’s RWR warned him that his aircraft had been scanned by a SAM radar. He checked and saw it was from an SA-19 ‘Grisson’. His flight was well out of its range, but it was a threat to the RF-111C. Bruce could also see that the flight of ‘Flankers’ were turning away to the north.

“Falcon One-One to Falcon and Dingo aircraft. Hold your positions. Do not intercept the hostiles. They are trying to lead us over a SAM trap.” Bruce radioed.

While the TARCAP Hornets held their positions, those equipped for SEAD engaged the SA-19 ‘Grisson’. The Soviet operators immediately shut down their radars and the vehicles quickly relocated, thus escaping damage. However, on the other hand the RAAF reconnaissance aircraft also escaped unscathed. Meanwhile several HARM missiles struck the base near where the ‘Grisson’ vehicles had been, in some cases starting serious fires that would need serious fire-fighting efforts to extinguish. Adding to these fires, a pair of F-111C that had been loitering to the south fired AGM-158 JASSM missiles at the base, hoping to catch the Su-27 as they landed. While the fighters escaped by remaining airborne, the missiles caused further serious fires. The consequences of these fires would be far reaching.

1630 hours GMT. South of Monbetsu, Hokkaido, Japan.
Major Killian ejected the magazine of her M4A5 and counted four rounds left in addition to the one that was in the breach of the carbine. On two occasions she had tried to crawl to the Land Rover to retrieve additional magazines. On both occasions her attempts had provoked a storm of gunfire and on the second attempt, someone had thrown a grenade at the Perentie, setting it on fire.

“Do you hear that?” Major Kusanagi suddenly said.

Killian strained her ears to hear.

“Helicopters.” She declared.
“First good news we’ve had for a while.” Bailey observed.
“Yes, Bailey, san.” Kusanagi agreed. “It will be one of our patrols.”

Confirming what she had said a pair of Kawasaki OH-1 observation helicopters passed overhead. They circled overhead, having evidently spotted the two burned our vehicles on the road. However, as they were only armed with air-to-air missiles, there was not much they could do to help should the Soviets attack again.

The two UH-60JA Blackhawks that arrived a few minutes later were a different matter. They were loaded with paratroopers from the 1st Airborne Brigade, who had been brought in to hunt any Soviet ‘stay-behind’ groups, or stragglers. The pair of helicopters landed nearby, the paratroopers disembarking. Major Kusanagi approached them, and after speaking to the senior para for a few moments, led them over to where Bailey and Killian. Meanwhile the rest of the paratroopers spread out and began to advance on the location where the gunfire had come from.

“Bailey, san, this is Lieutenant Saito, of the 1st Airborne Infantry Battalion.”

Saito gave a slight bow, conscious of not marking out a senior officer in the field, but at the same time wanting to show the correct respect.

“I have sent my men to hunt for the enemy, Bailey, san.” He said. “I hope that is correct. If you and Major Killian would like to follow me, I will arrange for you to be flown to your headquarters. We will see to your…casualties.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Saito. I appreciate everything you are doing, especially with regards to our casualties.” Bailey replied.

*

“Good to see that you’re okay, Sir.” Bailey’s Chief of Staff said in greeting once he had reached his headquarters. “We got concerned when you were overdue.”
“Well, Bruce, I have to admit that things were not looking good for a bit. The Japanese caught up with some of our ambushers. From their uniforms, they reckon they were either airborne or Spetsnaz. In any case, any road convoys are going to be better protected from now on.”

1645 hours GMT. Near Teluk Ambon, Ambon Island, Indonesia.
The militiaman held his Sten Mk.II(S) suppressed sub-machine carbine tightly as he approached the perimeter fence of the Soviet base. The Sten, along with a number of other ‘deniable’ weapons and training had been supplied to Christian Militias on Ambon by the Australian Secret Intelligence Service.

*
The Christian Militias were not as well armed as their Moslem enemies. Who despite the Indonesian authorities professing neutrality during the Maluku Religious War of 1999-2002, seemed to have somehow managed to ‘acquire’ a great deal of weapons which could only have come from army and police armouries. Moreover, not only had the security forces failed to stop the violence and ethnic cleansing, several hundred of them had actively taken part. Now, taking advantage of the fact that most Soviet personnel were absent fighting fires, the Christian Militias had decided to raid the base armoury and ammunition facility.

*

Eighty militiamen, armed with a variety of weapons, led four hundred more unarmed members of several militia groups. The remaining Soviets guards were swiftly dealt with by silenced weapons and knives. Trucks were then driven on to the base and loaded with looted weapons and ammunition. Any Soviet vehicles that could be started were also loaded up and driven off base. By the time they were finished, the militiamen had obtained around fifty truckloads of arms and ammunition.

To say that the Soviet base commander and the local Indonesian authorities, who were loyal to the Putchists, rather than the legitimate government, reacted badly would be an understatement. Soviet and Indonesian troops, along with armed Moslem militia were sent to ‘recover’ the weapons. That operation went as badly as one might expect; the regular troops were brutal enough, but it was the militia who would light the spark. Around ninety civilians who had taken refuge in a church were brutally massacred in the militia’s first ‘search operation’. That lead to a co-ordinated rising by the Christian Militias across Ambon, whose first action was to attempt to ‘clean out’ the Moslem militias. The rising caught the Soviets and Indonesians by surprised; none of their intelligence had suggested that the Christian militias had developed close links or had the capability for such widespread co-ordinated action.

Deciding that taking part in someone else’s civil war was not part of his job, the Soviet base commander withdrew his troops from the weapons searches. Instead concentrating them on a defensible perimeter around the base itself. Any Indonesian civilians within the perimeter were ruthlessly removed or killed if they refused to move. He did, however, decide to send the Australians, who he blamed for the rising, a message.

1731 hours GMT. Charlottenburg, Former West Berlin.
“Well, that’s the last of it, Dan.” Lance-Corporal John ‘Stevie’ Nicks observed as he crumpled up the last of the ten-man ration pack he and Sergeant Dan Mills had been eating from.
“Time for us to be moving on again.” Mills replied.

The sniper team had established three Operational Bases, each of which had been stocked with approximately two weeks of food and water, along with spare weapons, ammunition, and miscellaneous equipment. They had exhausted the supplies in their first OB, which had been sited in the sewer network. So, they had moved onto their second base, which was in the basement of an empty building near the Richard-Wagner-Platz U-Bahn station. It could be accessed via a nearby sewer pipe, allowing Mills and Nicks to enter and exit the building without being observed. Now it was time to move on to their last base.

Mills ran his hand over the couple of days of stubble as he contemplated the problems of relocating to the final OB. Which was located within the campus of Technische Universität Berlin.

“We’ll get everything we can take with us packed away, Stevie. Once we’re ready to go, we’ll booby-trap the entrance.”
“Works for me, Dan.” Nicks replied. “We going to wait until it’s dark? The patrols don’t seem to be quite as active then.”

Mills nodded. He unfolded a map and set it down on a table between the two men.

“We’ll move out into the sewers first then make our way into the U-Bahn tunnel here. There’s a tunnel we can use to access the sewers again just outside the Ernst-Reuter-Platz station. After that we’ll pop out here and go straight into the OB. Alternatively, we can take a route via these sewers and pop out here. It’s longer and we’d be exposed between the exit and the OB.”
“What’s Plan B? Just in case the Bad Guys have found the OB.”

Mills sighed. He did not like the other option open to them.

“There’s a BRIXMIS supply cache within Hessco’s. Thing is, it might well have been compromised.” He said, using the nickname for the Britannia Centre Spandau. Which had been built on the site if Spandau Prison. “If the Soviets, or East Germans have captured any of the BRIXMIS teams, they may know about that cache.”
“Well, fingers crossed we don’t need to use it.” Nicks observed.

*

Mills carefully attached the tripwire to the ring of the L109A1 hand grenade before cautiously closing the hatch that served as the entrance to the now abandoned OB. The wire was now taught and anyone opening the hatch would pull the pin out of the grenade. He dropped down into the sewer. Mills had long gotten used to the unpleasant smell and it did not register any more.

“Let’s get a shift on, Stevie.”
“Hold it, Dan.” Nicks replied. “I’m sure I heard something.”

The Sergeant strained his ears and sure enough he heard what sounded like footsteps approaching. After a moment he heard voices in German.

“Sh*t.” He muttered. “They’re coming down the sewer from behind us. If we move now, we should make it into the U-Bahn tunnel.”
“Leave something for them?”

Mills shook his head.

“No; we don’t want anyone knowing we’re down here.”

1751 hours GMT. MKB Raduga Design Bureau in, Moscow Oblast, USSR.
A tired-looking, haggard man sat at the desk in a spacious office located on the executive floor – or at least its USSR equivalent – of the programming department MKB Raduga Design Bureau in Dubna, Moscow Oblast. The name tag on his lab coat said “Maxim D. Fedorov – Department Head Programming”. His birth name was Maksims D. Ventaskrasts, and he had been adopted by a Russian family after his parents had disappeared. They had been arrested by the KGB for their dissident activism in Lithuania when Maksims had been eleven.

His adoptive parents had also been politically divergent, albeit in secret, being otherwise Party members in good standing, and had told him about the lot of the various non-Russian ethnicities in the USSR over the years. He had nurtured his opposition to the system and resolved to one day strike back at the system that had killed his parents. To that end, he had employed his natural mathematics skills and excelled in computer science.

His scruffy appearance was deceptive. He was alert, wide awake and was patiently waiting for something that was currently approaching the missile design complex at the speed of a vigorously driven column of armoured Tigr 4x4 vehicles containing an entire platoon of KGB Internal Troops, led by a colonel looking to make the arrest of his career.

He not only was ultimately responsible for programming the various missiles Raduga designed and produced, but he had also had a hand in designing the security system in the production complex, which would come to be vital to the execution of his final plan in a short time.

He winced as a twinge of pain shot through his innards. He had incurable liver cancer. It had been diagnosed only weeks before the initiation of hostilities between the Warsaw Pact, NATO, and the various allies of both sides. The virtual death sentence had helped him focus his work, and the war had given him the final push to literally go out with a bang. He had no illusions as to what would happen if the KGB got their hands on him.

*

The column of KGB vehicles came to a screeching halt in front of MKB Raduga’s main building on Ulitsa Zhukovskogo. The platoon of KGB troops exited their vehicles, two of them opened the door of the Tigr the colonel had travelled in, and he stepped out on the street. He straightened his uniform, plastered an arrogant expression on his face and quick marched towards the entrance. The platoon formed up behind him, assault rifles at port arms.
The formation virtually exploded into the foyer of the missile production plant and came to a halt in front of the reception desk. A pretty female receptionist, who had turned white as a sheet at the sudden intrusion of nearly three dozen armed men in field uniform and an imperious staff officer in parade uniform audibly gulped, forced a professional smile on her face and said:

“Welcome to Raduga Design Bureau, sir. How can I help you?”
“You will call the head of this installation and tell him he is summoned here on orders of the Committee for State Security. I am colonel Ruslan Mikhailovich Medvedev. There is reason to believe you have a saboteur on the premises. Expedite! Any tardiness could be used against you.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened. She pressed a button on her console and informed the outer office of the Chairman. The almost violent entrance of the unit caused a mix of confusion, shock and fear in the people who were present.

*

Up in his office, Maksims Ventaskrasts, as he now deliberately thought of himself, looked at the window on his computer monitor displaying the view of a surveillance camera overlooking the reception area. There they are. The guy who is leading them looks like he is relishing every second. Maksims pulled up a menu on the desktop and made a few adjustments to the fire suppression system in a vital area.
He stood up, pulled a cardboard package from a compartment in his desk and then took a plastic card from a book on a Western programming language. He began to walk quickly towards the part of the plant that held the missile assembly area.

*

A balding man of medium height clad in the usual ill-fitting Soviet-style suit came out of an elevator door and approached the group of chekists.

“Comrade Colonel, I am Ovechkin, Chairman of OKB Raduga. What can…”
“The name of your most capable programmer, NOW!” The officer rudely interrupted.
“That would be my head of programming, Maxim Fedorov. What…”
“Lead me to his office. Expedite. The man is a saboteur, responsible for blowing up the long-range bombers of the Navy and Air Force.”
“But wha…why…who…” Ovechkin was overwhelmed by the news and the overpowering presence of the KGB officer and his armed men.

Medvedev simply gripped the upper arm of the chairman and hissed,

“His office, NOW. Or do you want to be arrested for aiding and abetting an enemy of the State?”
“F…follow me. We are going to need a few minutes.”

*

A few hundred metres further into the complex, Ventaskrasts walked hurriedly along a subterranean corridor. He was nearly at his destination. He walked around a corner and saw an armed guard seconded from the army posted in front of an armoured door that had “Warning! Explosives. Smoking strictly forbidden.” as well as several signs warning of explosives painted on and around it.

“Good day, comrade yefreitor”, he addressed the young man. “I am here on orders of the Chairman, surprise inspection.” He waved the plastic card in front of the guard’s face. “Make room for me to open the door, will you?”

The enlisted man, a bit steamrollered by the intensity of the older man, backed off a few steps.

Ventaskrasts stepped towards the card reader installed on one side of the door and then fumbled, flipping the code card a few feet so that it landed at the feet of the guard.

“Whoops…if you would be so kind…?” The soldier crouched down, fishing for the card. He then felt something cold being pressed behind his ear.
The programmer quietly spoke to him,

“Now, young man, please get up, slowly, yes, that’s good, face the wall, and drop your ammunition vest and rifle.” He backed up. “Hurry up, I do not have all day.”

When the weapon and ammunition lay on the ground, he spoke again.

“Turn around, slowly, hands on your head, yes. Now, do you and me a favour and f*ck right off out of here, because you do not want to die today. You got five minutes.”

For emphasis, he aimed a GSh-18 at the other’s face and fired a couple of inches to the side of his head when he did not react. “I said. FUCK OFF! Run for your life, dammit!” The guard took off as if his pants were on fire.

Finally. Ventaskrasts picked up the card, a clone of the Chairman’s all-access card, and swiped it over the reader. The door unlocked audibly, and he entered the warhead storage. There would be a few workers and guards here. Looking around, he found a trigger for the fire alarm and pulled the lever.

He crouched behind a few stacked missile containers and waited until the occupants of the bunker had vacated it. The plan called for sixty-five seconds. They made it in sixty-two. Heroic workers of the Soviet Union, he scoffed to himself. He pulled the box from beneath his coat, opened it, and began to work swiftly, but with the confidence of a brain surgeon going to town on an anomaly in the frontal lobe.

*

The fire alarm in the bunker led to a cascade of fire alarms in the rest of the plant. Ovechkin and colonel Medvedev were nearly at the office Ventaskrasts had vacated. Ovechkin felt a buzz on his belt. The chairman of Raduga pulled a somewhat clunky mobile phone from his hip and scowled at the display. His heart seemed to drop into his shoes. He dialled the number from which the text message had come and urgently spoke, then listened, and went pale as a sheet.

“Comrade Colonel, we have a fire alarm in the warhead storage bunker. The Halon system is out of order and Department Head Fedorov was seen fiddling with one of the warheads before shooting out the camera watching him.”
“He is not finished with his sabotage. Lead me to the storage bunker. Fast. There is a Hero of the Soviet Union in it for me if we make it in time. Lead the hell on.” He shoved the shorter man on his way.

*

Maksims Ventaskrasts sat on the ground, his back to a Kh-22 high explosive unitary warhead, waiting. He had a free line of sight to both exits of the bunker, held his pistol loosely in his lap with his right hand and clutched a dead-man switch in his left. He felt utterly and completely calm for the first time in years.

The blast doors to the main doors opened, and in strode the KGB colonel and his despised boss.

“Maxim Daniilovich Fedorov, you are under arrest for sabotage and various other crimes against the Soviet Union!” barked the staff officer, brandishing his sidearm, same make and model of the gun held by the programmer. The chairman just looked sweaty, out of breath and frightened.

The saboteur just laughed.

“First, my name is Maksims Ventaskrasts. I am a proud Lithuanian. Second, screw you. I hold a dead-man switch, and the detonator in this baby.” He gestured at the warhead behind him. “Is hooked up to it. There is also an electronic trigger linked to a small EKG sensor that will blow up the warhead if my heart stops and the damn thing in my hand has a mechanical failure. So, third, colonel peacock, you are arresting nobody. I actually had prepared a speech, a kind of statement, but shit on that. Just hear that you are going into the void knowing that every damn source code and spec of any missile type we build here are on their way to the West. Oh, and I am sure the forty or so tons of explosives in here are going to make a hell of a crater. Vienybė težydi!”

He grinned, closed his eyes, and opened his left hand. Then everything went black.

1801 hours GMT. H.Q 1 (Br) Corps, east of Hanover, FRG.
“I have troops within spitting distance of Helmstedt and the border, Sir. The only trouble is that an RAF attack unfortunately blocked the main route of advance with wreckage. I’m worried that by the time the road is cleared the enemy will have recovered. I want to drop a couple of battle groups from the Airmobile Division on Helmstedt to delay any enemy counterattack.” Lt. General O’Connor said to the image of COMNORTHAG.

General Horne shook his head.

“Sorry, Paddy, I can’t release any part of the division to you. Not without clearing it with CINCCENT first. The division is one of the few relatively fresh formations in NORTHAG and General Back wants to keep it that way, and I agree. At least until the American I Corps is operational. We’ve got two Soviet tank armies bearing down on us; their leading units arrived in East Germany last night. It’s only a matter of, maybe, forty-eight hours before we could find ourselves fighting them. A highly mobile formation equipped for anti-tank warfare is vital. I can’t fritter it away in penny packets.
“If you want to drop airmobile troops on Helmstedt, you’re going to have to use your own corps resources. I’m sorry.”

O’Connor knew Horne well enough to know that arguing further would be futile. The thing was, he could see his superior’s point of view. He would have probably made the same decision in Horne’s place.

“Do I at least get to keep the RAF helicopters assigned to support my corps, Sir?”

COMNORTHAG nodded.

“For the moment. So, if you want to use them for something like this, you better do it sooner rather than later.”
“Message received and understood, Sir. One question, though. If I can get my armoured forces through to Helmstedt, do I halt?”
“No, you keep heading east for as long as you feel is prudent. There’s no nonsense about halting on the IGB. SACEUR does not want any of our attacks to be artificially halted by a line on a map. If the politicians want us to stop, I’ll let you know.
“Good luck, Paddy.”
“Thank you, David, I appreciate it.”

Once COMNORTHAG had severed the connection, O’Conner thought for a few moments. He did have one formation that could be used in the airmobile role. Though, he did not have as many helicopters as he would like. He picked up a phone handset on his desk.

“I want to see Colonel James Alistair within the hour. Send a cab to get him if you need to. I also want the planning staff assembled ASAP.”

***

[Bernard Woolley]

Accompanying Pictures

[Eaglenine2]

So the adventures of the Sniper platoon continues.

Question why isn't the Soviet Naval Brigade been dealt with?

[Bernard Woolley]

Question why isn't the Soviet Naval Brigade been dealt with?

The one that was in Japan? It was largely destroyed.

[Eaglenine2]

The Brigade in Ambon?

[Bernard Woolley]

The Australians are in the process of dealing with it.

[Jotun]

Niiiice
Happy to contribute. Lots of stuff going on at lots of places around the world.

First of all, I just looked something up. The Japanese honorific for a general is (name)-kakka. I presume you aren't using it for obvious reasons?
Stay-behind troops are a plague. I had a good laugh at Major Kusanagi randomly referencing her counterpart from another universe. Hell, there is even a Saito present. Thumbs up.

If I remember correctly, Operation Lehman is supposed to be a US maskirovka. If so, they are being very circumspect about it, dotting every i and crossing every t. Hopefully, everthing does not fit TOO well...

So, the Backfire/Raduga mini-arc is done. Writing this last part was like pulling teeth. I hope it is acceptable.

Be interesting to see how the Helmstedt situation is going to develop. In all likelihood, the A2 Autobahn leading through the city - which will have been blown up as soon as the first Red Army vehicle crossed the border on D-Day - has in the meantime been repaired by the Soviets and/or East Germans. Most of the highway is literally a high way and leads over Helmstedt for several kilometers, and was the only way into West Germany for several kilometers to the north and south of the border checkpoint.

Thank you for the new chapter, I had a blast (pun intended) reading it

[Bernard Woolley]

Niiiice
Happy to contribute. Lots of stuff going on at lots of places around the world.

Your help was very welcome.

First of all, I just looked something up. The Japanese honorific for a general is (name)-kakka. I presume you aren't using it for obvious reasons?

Have to admit I was using it because it’s what I thought readers would expect. It is a bit of a stereotype, I know.

Stay-behind troops are a plague. I had a good laugh at Major Kusanagi randomly referencing her counterpart from another universe. Hell, there is even a Saito present. Thumbs up.

Whether these were genuine stay-behinds or just stragglers is something that can be left to the Japanese paratroopers. I am finishing up Ghost in the Shell 2 at the moment, btw.

If I remember correctly, Operation Lehman is supposed to be a US maskirovka. If so, they are being very circumspect about it, dotting every i and crossing every t. Hopefully, everthing does not fit TOO well...

Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Indeed it might even be a Maskirovka that could be turned into a real operation.

So, the Backfire/Raduga mini-arc is done. Writing this last part was like pulling teeth. I hope it is acceptable.

I know how difficult it can be to write scenes some times. They just don’t want to come some times. It is way more than acceptable!

Be interesting to see how the Helmstedt situation is going to develop. In all likelihood, the A2 Autobahn leading through the city - which will have been blown up as soon as the first Red Army vehicle crossed the border on D-Day - has in the meantime been repaired by the Soviets and/or East Germans. Most of the highway is literally a high way and leads over Helmstedt for several kilometers, and was the only way into West Germany for several kilometers to the north and south of the border checkpoint.

Any autobahn near the border will have been blown full of holes and mined. However, the Soviets & East Germans have had 28 days to fill in the holes and clear the mines. The autobahn from Helmstedt will be familiar to British soldiers, as it was the land route to West Berlin. Magdeburg would be the first major population centre that 1 (Br) Corps. would reach if they don’t halt, or are halted around the border.

Thank you for the new chapter, I had a blast (pun intended) reading it

You’re very welcome. Glad you enjoyed it.

[jemhouston]

Am I the only one with a fondness for that type of Land Rover? I'm not sure about owning, but driving one around two weeks would be interesting.

[Bernard Woolley]

Wouldn’t be surprised if you could pick up one pretty cheaply these days.

[Matt Wiser]

Whoo-hoo! It lives! BZ to Bernard and Jotun, and nice job. And on to business at hand:

Soviet Stragglers in Hokkaido will still cause trouble as long as they can. It'll take a while to clean them up.

Could the self-appointed masters of Maskirovka fall for one? Operation LEHMAN might just be the real deal. The Soviets have to consider both possible outcomes....

Aussies taking care of business in regards to Ambon Island.... That island has bad memories for the Australians, namely, massacres at Laha Airfield of Australian and Dutch POWs in Feb 42 are at the top of that list.

The NATO stay-behinds in West Berlin are going to have to start "Liberating" supplies from the enemy before too long, looks like.

One hell of a bang in Moscow.... Recovering from that will take some time.

Armor pushing across the IGB... A Thunder Run might be a good idea-until those two Tank Armies come into play.

Good work, both of you, and get with 371!

[jemhouston]

Wouldn’t be surprised if you could pick up one pretty cheaply these days.

That's why I don't want to own one. Don't they have more issues than Time Magazine?

[clancyphile]

Whoo-hoo! It lives! BZ to Bernard and Jotun, and nice job. And on to business at hand:

Soviet Stragglers in Hokkaido will still cause trouble as long as they can. It'll take a while to clean them up.

Could the self-appointed masters of Maskirovka fall for one? Operation LEHMAN might just be the real deal. The Soviets have to consider both possible outcomes....

Aussies taking care of business in regards to Ambon Island.... That island has bad memories for the Australians, namely, massacres at Laha Airfield of Australian and Dutch POWs in Feb 42 are at the top of that list.

The NATO stay-behinds in West Berlin are going to have to start "Liberating" supplies from the enemy before too long, looks like.

One hell of a bang in Moscow.... Recovering from that will take some time.

Armor pushing across the IGB... A Thunder Run might be a good idea-until those two Tank Armies come into play.

Good work, both of you, and get with 371!

More importantly, the specs and source code for Raduga's missile designs just got sent to NATO.

Gonna make it easier to kill said missiles.

[Bernard Woolley]

Could the self-appointed masters of Maskirovka fall for one? Operation LEHMAN might just be the real deal. The Soviets have to consider both possible outcomes....

If they underestimate the American ability to create a Maskirovka, possibly.

Aussies taking care of business in regards to Ambon Island.... That island has bad memories for the Australians, namely, massacres at Laha Airfield of Australian and Dutch POWs in Feb 42 are at the top of that list.

Sadly, there will be some more massacres in Ambon in the near future.

The NATO stay-behinds in West Berlin are going to have to start "Liberating" supplies from the enemy before too long, looks like.

The stay-behind teams that survive in West Berlin are very much heading for the last chance saloon. Supplies are dwindling & by the laws of averages, it's only a matter of time before they are discovered by patrols.

One hell of a bang in Moscow.... Recovering from that will take some time.

It's not just the explosion in Moscow. Every missile made in that factory is now suspect. They'll all need to be checked, which will take time & seriously impact the DA and Naval Aviation's ability to operate.

Armor pushing across the IGB... A Thunder Run might be a good idea-until those two Tank Armies come into play.

No comment.

Good work, both of you, and get with 371!

Thank you very much. Appreciate it.

That's why I don't want to own one. Don't they have more issues than Time Magazine?

Since it has an Isuzu engine, the Perentie is supposed to be pretty reliable mechanically. An ex-ADF example will have been flogged to bits on some pretty harsh terrain. Did find this article.

More importantly, the specs and source code for Raduga's missile designs just got sent to NATO.

Gonna make it easier to kill said missiles.

Even just knowing details of the design philosophy behind the missile designs would be very useful.

[trekchu]

In this war, a lot of Male Bovine Excrement told about the kit from both sides will be exposed, though given recent real world events, I suspect it's worse for the Soviets.

That said, even a hint of western troops across the IGB might make someone in the WarPac leadership hit the escalation button, so NATO best be careful.

[Bernard Woolley]

At least we do know how Western kit has performed in @.

Would the Soviets escalate over an incursion into the DDR?

[Jotun]

At least we do know how Western kit has performed in @.

Would the Soviets escalate over an incursion into the DDR?

The Ossi government would scream bloddy murder and demand the USSR empty the holes. But I doubt the USSR would comply…

[trekchu]

Depends on who is in charge, meaning that some local Soviet battery commander who got promoted because everyone experienced died might whip out the special shells for his guns in the face of a Thunder Run.

And I expect the East German Leadership to demand escalation. For all that their Forces got effectively absorbed by the Soviets, they can still yell and demand this. And then there's that they did have that rocket battalion that trained for the Nuclear strike role, though I forget which it was. Granted, that unit likely fell under the TNWT in TLW, but I doubt that this sort of tactical thinking went away entirely.

[Bernard Woolley]

Thankfully due to the TNWT there are no ‘special’ shells, or SRBM with ‘special’ warheads. Soviets would need to go straight to gravity bombs dropped by Tu-160, or ICBM. OTOH, there are still chemical weapons…

[James1978]

Thankfully due to the TNWT there are no ‘special’ shells, or SRBM with ‘special’ warheads. Soviets would need to go straight to gravity bombs dropped by Tu-160, or ICBM. OTOH, there are still chemical weapons…

Well . . . there are apparently plenty of cruise missile about of the air and sea launched variety.

But there is an interesting question as to how closely held/secured Soviet chemical munitions are.