Forbidden City, Beijing, Qing Empire, 24 September 1911
"They surrendered?!" Zhang wasn't sure if Yuan was furious or shocked when he said that, but he had a feeling it was somewhere in the middle. "An entire army of men just surrendered?"
"It seems as such," Zhang observed. "Are the rebels still demanding an unconditional surrender?"
Yuan nodded. Well, he balled his fists and nodded, but Zhang got the idea.
"Then it would be in our best interests to move the court to Manchuria. Let the rebels grow fat on Beijing while we regroup."
The fact that Manchuria was effectively Zhang's domain was not lost upon either of them.
"Very well," Yuan grumbled.
What other choice did he have? His men were dead. The core of the Beiyang Army had surrendered after being surrounded. And the only person he could rely on was an up-jumped bandit who had likely murdered his way into controlling Manchuria.
"How far are the rebels?"
"Two hundred miles and closing fast." The simple notion of that frustrated him to no end. The Beiyang Army, his Beiyang Army, was wiped out in a single battle.
If rumors were to be believed, the rebels pierced their line and began flanking his infantry until they were surrounded.
After that, he didn't have much of an army left, besides the local garrison and the Bannermen who'd lived around Beijing.
And what good would they be? They have their positions because of their fathers and grandfathers! They hardly ever trained, and when they did, it was with bows and arrows, not fucking rifles!
"Then we must hurry," the up-jumped bandit told him. "I will send word to the Court and contact the Legation Quarter, then wait for you in Shenyang."
"Very well, Zhang," Yuan admitted. "The Banners will serve as a rear guard to cover our retreat. Perhaps they could be of some use, after all."
"Well, if they can't fight for China, then perhaps they could at least die for China."
That actually got a chuckle out of Yuan.
"Perhaps, Colonel. Now, how many men do you think you can raise once you arrive there?"
"With the backing of the Emperor? A hundred thousand, if given enough time."
"Within a month?"
"Fifty thousand of, if I am honest, middling quality."
"Of course." Yuan wasn't happy about that, but he knew why. Soldiers took time to train. Good soldiers took even longer. "Then go. You have your orders."
Office of Prime Minister Katsura Tarō, Tokyo, Japan
"It seems that the Qing have failed," General Terauchi Masatake informed the Prime Minister.
"From what our observers have seen, the revolutionaries have captured the bulk of the Beiyang Army after destroying their artillery."
A grin formed on the Prime Minister's face.
"Send the order to the troops in Chōsen. General, are the troops prepared?"
"Two hundred thousand of them are in position," said General Terauchi. "Colonel Zhang has informed us that he and his men are willing to cooperate with our administration."
"And the rebels?"
"They may be able to defeat us in the ocean, but the Army will do what the Navy could not."
"Send the order, General. Manchuria will be a fine replacement for Formosa."
Ozaki Residence, Tokyo, Japan
"Do you ever stop getting into trouble, dear?" Yei Theodora Ozaki asked her husband. "I read about your most recent speech."
"If they arrest me, then so be it. Though I doubt the Prime Minister would be so eager to arrest the Mayor of Tokyo."
"Perhaps, but Yukika and Shinaye would raise a fuss, and you know how our little girls can be."
"Of course." They could hear a knocking at the door. "I'll get it."
Ozaki Yukio walked to the front door to see several armed policemen waiting for him.
"Mayor Ozaki, under orders from the Prime Minister, we are placing you under arrest. My apologies, sir, but we are under orders."
"Is this about my article on the long-term ramifications of our annexation of Korea?"
"Truth be told, sir, I do not know," the officer said with a sad smile. "But like I said, we are under orders to arrest you."
"And my family?"
"Your family will be left alone, sir."
"Very well. Would it be too much to say goodbye to my wife and daughters?"
"Not at all."
Urumqi, Xinjiang Province, Republic of China, 25 September 1911
For Captain Kenny Ma, it seemed like he was constantly up against impossible odds.
First was the fact that he was somehow sent back in time with his men to 1911.
Next was how his unit and the MIB managed to save, of all people, Wang Jingwei from the Qing in what might have been the first dedicated special forces mission in the 20th century.
After that, he'd jumped out of a plane into Shaanxi province where he spent the next few months behind enemy lines fighting a guerrilla war with the Tongmenghui and training rebels.
And that was before he had to fight off a massive horde of Qing loyalists, only to be saved by gunship strafing run and a C-130 dropping flechettes, of all things, on the enemy.
So as far as he was concerned, his men getting transferred to a base in the ass-end of nowhere in Xinjiang was an improvement.
The fact that they'd gotten the airstrip and fuel depot up and running definitely helped with things. Running low on clean water was always a risk when in the field, so having a constant supply of water and electricity flown in was a nice change of pace.
That, and the Air Force finally showing up.
He'd been here for, what, three weeks at this point? In that time, a parade of C-130s had managed to not only drop supplies off, but also drop off construction equipment and materials to build an entire airstrip.
With people working around the clock, he'd had a fairly easy time, for once in his life, doing nothing more than guarding the perimeter of the area and sending out scouting parties to go after the stragglers.
And what did he have to show for it?
Well, there were the squadrons of F-16s that were resting on the tarmac. They flew in the same day it'd hardened and the construction teams managed to build the hangars.
Of course, there was also constant airlift going in and out, delivering fuel, men, and supplies. From what he'd heard, the guys flying the 747-400Fs weren't actually military but in fact civilian contractors who were, in their own words, "Just happy to be here."
He could get that. Well, not really, but there were certain types of people who had a place they always wanted to be. Sailors at sea, pilots in the air, soldiers on solid ground, and marines apparently charging headfirst into enemy fire in their tanks.
He'd heard the news. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, they were getting info on the main army's rapid advance towards Beijing.
Suddenly, the siren began to wail, and he was off running towards the HQ at the tower, weapon in hand.
"I need a SITREP," he told one of his men as he walked into the pre-fab. "What the hell's going on?"
"You're not going to believe it, sir."
"At this point, I don't think anything can phase me. Shoot."
"UAV picked up heavy troop concentrations headed this way."
"I thought we killed the Qing loyalists in the area. UAVs have shown nothing since then."
"It's not the Qing, sir. It's the Russians."
That? That was enough to give Kenny pause.
"Say again?"
"Russian forces, sir. They are headed towards Urumqi." Sure enough, the UAV footage and recon photographs confirmed it. "I'd say they have an ETA of a week, tops."
"Okay, got it. Just sounds as insane as the first time."
"Of course, sir. Any plans?"
"Infantry and motorized will fortify here for now. Teh Air Force will continue recon missions. Do not engage unless fired upon."
"Understood, sir. Anything else?"
"One more thing. What the fuck are the Russians doing in Xinjiang?"
Qing Barracks, Urga, Bogd Khanate of Mongolia
In such a short time, Sando had gone from preserving Qing rule in Mongolia to being escorted out in a day.
He could see those damned Russians outside his window. This was their doing, more specifically that bastard Semyonov.
But there wasn't much he could do. Not with a hundred fifty under-paid troops.
"What is that sound?" one of his men asked, and he looked out his window.
"Shit," Sando said to himself, once he had seen the blue and white banners on the dozens, no, hundreds of green vehicles.
As if this day could get any worse.
Outskirts of Urga, Bogd Khanate of Mongolia
This entire operation was, if he was being completely honest, mad.
Once they'd broken through Taiyuan, MIB had given them new orders:
Take Mongolia.
No, not seize the region, but liberate it from the Qing.
Of course, there was just one issue: HISTINT said that the Mongolians weren't happy about Chinese people coming there.
Well, if he wanted to get technical, the upper class of Mongolia was split between those who sought independence, autonomists under the Bogd Khan, and nobles who would be more amenable towards the ROC, assuming the latter followed the 63 Stipulations given to Chen Yi in 1919.
And that was before they got into how there were different groups of Mongols.
If he was being honest, Richard wasn't exactly excited about dealing with the HISTINT work, but the MIB attache who was on loan from NTU was more than capable of explaining the basics of it.
All that was left was to actually get to Urga, and that was the hard part.
No, it wasn't the fighting. In fact, they'd hardly faced any resistance on the drive up here.
Then again, that was to be expected, as Qing defenses were, at best, uncoordinated and at worst, non-existent once you penetrated their frontlines.
After that, it was smooth sailing until the Qing managed to cobble together another line of soldiers and militia that they'd penetrate and encircle.
At this point, he was wondering if they even had any soldiers left.
"Are we there yet?" his little brother joked for the umpteenth time that day.
"Nope."
"How about now?"
"Say that one more time," Richard chuckled, "and I'm turning this whole expedition around."
That got a few laughs from his brother in the turret and the Dr. Lim, their translator and advisor.
"Also, no."
No, it was the simple issue of getting there in the first place.
Sure, they had enough trucks. If anything, they had more than enough Humvees and trucks to rapidly advance in the better part of a month.
And they had enough manpower, too. About fifteen thousand men, all things considered, loaded into Humvees and 4WD heavy trucks.
But fueling and supplying them? That was the hard part.
To that end, the convoy was supplied by air-dropped supplies from C-130s, who would make daily airdrops at designated points.
These airdrops would be pallets of fuel, food, and most importantly, water.
Thank goodness for army engineering.
It was a messy op. An inefficient op.
But through coordination and sheer determination (or as Dexter would joke, stubbornness), they had managed to make it with minimal resistance.
"You know what?" he finally said to his brother as he pulled up to the city. "I think we are."
"Okay… Who the hell are those guys?"
Richard grabbed his binoculars, fiddling with the sights to see just who was leading the large gathering.
Oddly enough, there were banners of white, blue, and red before him… which raised even more questions.
"Hey, Dr. Lim?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"What are Russians doing in Mongolia?"
"Russians? Could be a delegation."
"Doesn't look like a delegation," Dexter said from up top. Richard looked up to see his brother had his own binoculars out. "Looks like a military detachment."
"That just raises more questions," the older brother answered. "All units, this is Leopard 1-1. Moving in to investigate. 1-2 through 1-9, follow me in a wedge formation. Rest of you form a perimeter."
"Copy, Captain," one of his lieutenants answered. "We're with you."
"Keep it easy, everyone," he said as he drove them closer to the gathering. "I don't want to start a war. Not right now."
The wedge of Humvees rolled towards the gathering, and only then did they see what was going on.
Of all things, there were Mongolians on both sides, some with the Russians, while others stood apart from them.
Between them were several Qing emissaries who were being loaded up onto wagons under guard.
"Ease it up," he instructed, and the Humvees slowed to a halt in the middle of the field. As they waited, several riders rode towards them, all of them in Russian uniform. "Anyone speak Russian?"
"I think I know a bit," Corporal Duan said from the back. "Want me to try to translate?"
Exactly how he knew Russian, of all things, Richard didn't know. Or care. But he wasn't in any position to say no.
"Works for me. Dismount with me. Doc, you stay in the Humvee. Dex?"
"Yeah?"
"You keep overwatch. They try anything funny, and you blast them. Got it?"
"I've got you covered."
Sure enough, he and Duan got out of the vehicles with their rifles pointed down. In front of them, the Russians rode to a halt.
"I can speak Chinese," the leader, a dark-skinned man, demanded. "I am Captain Grigory Mikhaylovich Semyonov of the Russian Imperial Army. What is your business here?"
"My name is Captain Richard Hu of the Republic of China Army, and we are here to liberate this province from Qing rule."
"Well then, Captain," Semyonov said with a smile. "We have done your job for you. So if you would kindly leave-"
"That isn't going to happen, and you know that. As the legitimate successor to the Qing government, we find your forces to be violating our territorial integrity."
"Like Hell are we going to leave," Semyonov told him. The man wasn't so much angry as he was determined. "We have been invited by the Bogd Khan as guests."
"If this was Manchuria and you were guarding a railroad, then you would be well within your rights. But this is not Manchuria, and you need to leave. Now."
For a moment, the two sides stared at one another, weapons drawn. The cossacks had their pistols, while the Chinese had their rifles and the M2.
"It seems we are at a stalemate," Semyonov finally said, breaking the silence. "Sternberg?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Semyonov's adjutant turned to him, and opened fire with his revolver.
The shots were quick, rapidly slamming into his chest.
"Rick!" his brother shouted, opening fire on the Russians with the M2.
In a few seconds, Semyonov and Sternberg were on the ground in front of him with the other Russians, with their horses bleeding out from the crossfire.
"Shit," Hu stammered. "Duan?"
"I'm good, Cap!" the Corporal said as he started dragging him back to the Humvee. "You?"
"Plate stopped it. Hurts like hell, though."
"Yeah, I'd imagine. Lim, help me get him in the back!"
"Is he good?" Dex shouted between bursts. "Is he going to make it?"
"Yeah, I am, little brother," the older Hu wheezed. "Hurts like hell, though."
"Yeah, I thought so. Want me to take over?"
"Yeah."
"All units, this is Lieutenant Dexter Hu. Captain Hu is hit and requires medical attention! All Humvees move up to engage hostiles. I repeat, unknown forces are hostile!"
Zhangzhou Air Base, Zhangzhou, Henan Province, Republic of China
"This the last of them?" Shannon asked the grounds crew as they fastened the tanks to the last Mirage-2000.
"Yeah, that's everything, the mechanic told her. Appreciate the help on short notice, even when you're supposed to be moving up north to Shijiazhuang."
"Glad to help," she told him, happier than she had any right to be right now. "They should make it, right?"
"Well, the Mirages should have a combat range of about 960 miles, and that's without the under-wing tanks."
"And with them?"
"For where they're headed," the mechanic told her, "It's close, but they'll make it with the tanker."
"They know how to refuel on that thing, right?"
Skies Above Vydrino, Buryatia, Russian Empire
"Qilin, this is Crane 1. We have visual on the target. Requesting permission to begin the attack."
"Copy, Crane 1. You are clear to begin launching Paveways. AO is clear of civilian trains."
"Firing."
An explosion echoed off in the distance, and the Major looked on the screen in the AWACS.
"Good hit, Crane 1. Bridge is still standing. Crane 2, begin attack run."
"On it," the pilot of the Mirage told him, before launching his own ordinance at the same spot. "Target hit. Requesting damage assessment."
"Standby," the Major told him as he looked back at the monitor. "Good effect on target. Looks like the bridge is going into the river. Crane 3 and 4, finish it off. Peacock Squadron, prepare for your own bombing run. We're cutting the Trans-Siberian Railway tonight."
Jingfeng Railway, Shenyang Outskirts, Qing Empire
Were it not for the lanterns, Lieutenant Kōmoto Daisaku would have been stumbling in the dark."
"How long until the train arrives?"
"A few hours, now get that dynamite in the ground," said the Lieutenant. "We're running behind schedule."
