The Warfighter: A Novel of the Second Korean War (The Aviator: Stories of Future Wars Book 2) by Craig DiLouie

Author:Craig DiLouie [DiLouie, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ZING Communications, Inc.
Published: 2021-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Midrats, midnight rations. The late-night meal of aviators and sailors everywhere, as usual a motley collection of leftovers tonight.

Kyra and I had capped Ulleung alongside Scorch’s Rhino until I thought we’d be landing on fumes. Finally, we were recalled. Already worn out, we’d gotten sucked into an all-officers’ meeting right after landing, where Lieutenant Danby, our sunny intelligence officer, filled us in on the big picture.

The North Koreans had shot five KN-23 missiles at Ulleung. Designed similarly to the Russian Iskander, these missiles fly in a quasi-ballistic trajectory, too high for Patriot missiles to intercept and too low for South Korea’s terminal high-altitude air defense system to shoot down. The missile is loaded with solid fuel, which means it can be wheeled out and fired very quickly, and the short flight time also makes it more difficult to detect in the air.

As if he’d been hoping for the excuse to throw a punch, Kim Jong-un was clearly showing off. He’d made South Korea pay a heavy toll for the loss of his fighters and demonstrated the power of his new missiles, which admittedly was significant when one considered the KN-23s could just have easily been armed with nuclear warheads.

We’d sailed all the way over here to flex our muscles and keep the local bully in his place, and here he was, flexing back.

The only problem was his missiles weren’t all that great on hitting their targets. One properly linked up with North Korea’s single functioning satellite and damaged the naval base. The rest splashed around the island, killing a lot of locals and tourists, including two Americans, four Canadians, and three Europeans.

The world was appalled, South Korea was enraged, and North Korea took it all as a compliment. If Kim couldn’t be admired, he’d be feared. Fear was respect.

War may be the most dangerous game, but it’s a game just the same. Right now, military strategists in Seoul and Washington played scenarios to decide their next move. America and/or South Korea would respond with force, that much looked certain. The question was where, with what assets, and to what degree, with the weighty matter of a major war in the balance.

In short, I had a long, hard day that was about to get even harder, as Kyra and I remained scheduled for the Alert 7, and tomorrow threatened to be another full day. Hence our visit to the Dirty Shirt wardroom to fuel up our bodies as the witching hour neared.

We found Boomer sitting at one of the tables, jittery from too much coffee and making himself a nervous wreck. He scribbled into a notepad, which was his personal journal.

I set down my tray. “Are you getting up or on your way to bed?”

“I’m too wired,” Boomer said. “How can you sleep?”

Kyra and I exchanged a glance as she took her own seat. After the last two days, we’d have no problem crashing the second we hit our pillows.

“I’d find a way,” I said. “So what’s wrong?”

“It’s getting really hairy with North Korea.

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