Two Peasants And A President - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
They awaited an answer. Most of these men were conscripts; none were combat veterans. They had been chosen to guard prisoners who were civilians with their wrists bound behind them. Nothing remotely resembling a confrontation had been expected, in fact, it was felt that the guards would be used to intimidate the prisoners, nothing more. One by one, soldiers began to crawl our from under the trucks and buses. One of them approached the officer.
"Please, give me your gun. In this way, you can say that we disarmed you and you will save face. We are many and we have rifles; you are one and have only your sidearm. No one's blood has been shed. Let us all leave this place alive. What happens later we will leave to fate."
The officer, knowing that he had notified his base by radio, stalled in the hope that reinforcements would soon arrive. His soldiers, realizing too that there was not much time, knew they had to act. One of them had moved closer to the officer as if to protect him, but instead swung the b.u.t.t of his Kalashnikov in an arc that intersected with the officer's temple and he went down. A cheer erupted from the hiding places of the farmers and they began to emerge. Hong appeared from behind a pillar with his megaphone.
"Quickly, release the prisoners and help them into our trucks. There isn't much time. Any soldier who wishes to join us is welcome. Today is the beginning of a new era for us and for China."
The radio call from the officer in the convoy had reached the army base, but had drawn a confused response due in no small measure to the mention of bows and arrows. While skill at archery has been considered a virtue for more than three thousand years in China and Confucius himself was an archery instructor, the firing of arrows at a Chinese army had not been heard of in more than two centuries. So it was not surprising that when the corporal carried the message to his superior, it was at first not taken seriously. In fact, it was almost an hour before a military helicopter was dispatched.
In the meantime the farmers, their trucks filled with dissidents and the soldiers who had mutinied, fanned out across several pre-planned routes and were heading to distant farms where they would be concealed from the authorities. It was a risky gambit in a country where virtually every neighborhood has someone who spies for the government, but the escape was not intended to be an isolated event. It was designed to ignite a larger revolt.
In recent years, all across China there had been demonstrations and even riots, which the government had done its best to conceal. But thanks to cell phone cameras and the internet, videos of citizens fighting to be heard had been widely circulated both in China and abroad. It was hoped that with the hundreds of thousands of unemployed that had been added to the rolls of the disaffected, the daring action would spark a new revolution.
Along a dusty highway in northern China, another peasant revolt was now being written into the pages of history. Whether it would grow or be ruthlessly crushed remained to be seen, but like their counterparts in other times and places, these men and women had chosen to risk it all. Memories of Tiananmen Square were very much on the minds of those huddled in the backs of dozens of farm trucks rumbling slowly toward destinations across northeastern China.
Li's allies in the PLA had been delighted when he had given them the go ahead to sink the container s.h.i.+p. When he reacted to Vietnam's decision to use the full might of its military to protect s.h.i.+pping and that, furthermore, an escorted enemy convoy would be departing forthwith, they were absolutely giddy. They saw it as an opportunity to establish conclusively that China does indeed control the South China Sea and would soon demonstrate that with overwhelming force. They scoffed at the notion that a weak and dependent American administration would intervene. If it dared to send its carriers anywhere near China's sh.o.r.es, they would be annihilated by thousands of land-based missiles placed there for just such a contingency.
This time, Vietnam chose to escort a single container s.h.i.+p with two frigates, reasoning that by bringing their combined defensive systems to bear, they had a better likelihood of defeating any missiles China might launch. They would also be placing their s.h.i.+ps literally between the missiles and the merchant s.h.i.+p, ensuring that if a missile got through, it would hit one of the frigates, igniting a conflict that they felt the United States could not ignore, especially since the merchant s.h.i.+p was owned by an American company. Both sides were gambling on a wider war, something that history has shown is often not a wise bet.
Reynolds told Jian to take the rest of the day off so that he could visit his contacts and let them know what had happened to the American. Jian had two friends in the dissident community. They would in turn notify their contacts and the ripples would spread across the pond while minimizing the danger since each cell had limited information about the others.
In a room filled with monitors and keyboards, dozens of young Chinese men and women were already working furiously to contain a story that was sweeping like a flash flood across the internet. Not since the blind Chinese dissident had been duped into leaving the US Emba.s.sy in order to save the US Secretary of State undue embarra.s.sment had a story spread with such intensity.
It seems that the farmers careful planning had included a pair of video cameras mounted on two of the trucks as well as several carried by individuals. A story now unfolded unlike any other. Almost tongue in cheek, it was presented like the tale of the merry men of Sherwood Forest defeating the evil sheriff with their bows and arrows. Such a marvelous narrative, at least from the point of the dissidents and the world press, was certain to have legs, as they say in the news business. Dissidents even made sure that certain trusted American businessmen received the full videos on thumb drives, which were quickly smuggled out of the country.
Media outlets, including those in the president's camp, could not resist a story that was being portrayed as arrows against automatic weapons; it was simply too newsworthy. The video had been edited for effect and was quickly circling the globe. The fact that not a single soldier had been harmed, save for a few bruised foreheads as their owners dove for cover under the trucks and buses, made it seem even more like a Robin Hood adventure. The Chinese government once again had been made to look like a fool. Li's aides had seriously considered calling in sick, but did not do so only for fear that he would send soldiers to drag them out of their beds. The mood in Li's office swung from fireworks explosions to funeral solemnity. Had there been a group of dissidents outside his office, he would have shot them down in the hallway, such was his anger.
In a move that would soon dampen the dissidents' glee, he ordered photo a.n.a.lysis of the farmers' trucks that were visible in the video and posted the pictures with a hefty reward for any citizen who could identify one of the trucks and lead the police to its owner. But it never occurred to him that with a story of this magnitude, retaliation could backfire. The man was at heart a thug who instinctively resorts to fists first and reflection later, if ever. And while he focused on how he would punish any of the guilty he could find, a crisis of his own making was building to the south.
65.
From Haiphong harbor, whose name means coastal defense, a large, American-owned container s.h.i.+p, its gargantuan insurance premium paid by Vietnam's government, emerged slowly into the Gulf of Tonkin. She was preceded by the frigate Dinh Tien Hoang, named after the first Vietnamese emperor following the liberation of the country from the rule of the Chinese Southern Han Dynasty in the 10 century. Given that a major Vietnamese naval victory over China also occurred in the same century, the symbolism was no coincidence. She was followed by her sister s.h.i.+p, the second stealth frigate to be delivered by Russia over the past two years.
Both s.h.i.+ps represented the most modern wars.h.i.+p design that Russia produces and, it was felt, would provide sufficient deterrent against attack by China. With double the defensive systems protecting a single, albeit very large target, Vietnam's admirals reasoned that they would present a lethal threat to any Chinese attacker. While their reasoning, as far as it went, was sound, it left the obvious unspoken. If China were so bold as to blanket the s.h.i.+ps with a dozen or more anti-s.h.i.+p missiles and/or torpedoes as is common in Communist military doctrine, they would be in serious peril. Furthermore, if the most capable s.h.i.+ps in Vietnam's navy were to be sunk as a result of protecting its own merchant s.h.i.+pping, it would surely mean war, which even in the modern era would not be a first.
In February of 1979, China invaded Vietnam along most of its northern border. While China was able to penetrate several kilometers into the northern part of the country, the Vietnamese, using the same tactics that had proved successful against both the French and the Americans, made the Chinese pay in blood. China withdrew 29 days later, declaring that it had taught Vietnam a lesson. No one doubted that should a repeat of this conflict take place, it would not only be very costly in terms of blood and treasure, it would risk a wider war. Were an outsider able to peer into the inner sanctums of both sides, he would note that two groups of old men, burdened with the ancient Oriental concept of saving face, were likely underestimating the danger they faced.
The s.h.i.+ps proceeded south, hugging the Vietnamese coast well away from the Chinese island of Hainan and the Hainan submarine base. In recent years, intelligence reports indicate that the Chinese have dug an enormous underground harbor large enough to hide up to twenty nuclear submarines from satellites. It has been alleged that submarines can enter and leave the base totally submerged. The facility is also reportedly being enlarged to accommodate carrier battle groups for future use.
In the combat information center of both Vietnamese frigates, anti-submarine warfare systems were fully engaged, looking for any sign of enemy submarines lying in wait. However, if the Chinese intended to use tactics employed in the previous strike, they could have submarines stationed beyond the range of the frigate's anti-submarine detection but within range of anti-s.h.i.+p missiles that can be launched from under water. While the frigates both carried helicopters designed for anti-submarine warfare, they did not wish to send them closer to the mainland without specific targets. Both s.h.i.+ps' air defense radars scanned the skies for any sign of Chinese warplanes. For the moment, at least, there were none.
The convoy would hug the coast and continue south until is was roughly on the same lat.i.tude as the ancient city of Hue and more than 200 kilometers from the southernmost part of Hainan Island where it would veer east toward the Philippines. It was not the shortest route, which meant additional cost, but the purpose was to test China's resolve. Once it was well east of Hainan, the convoy would be hundreds of kilometers from China's mainland coast. If attacked here, it would be far into what most every nation save China regards as international waters. The journey south would take hours, more than enough time for China to plan an attack, a.s.suming that is what they intended to do. But would they dare sink an American-flagged s.h.i.+p?
Unlike his admirals, who were busily planning to sink a container s.h.i.+p whose ident.i.ty they were not yet aware of, Li Guo Peng was narrowly focused on the humiliating disaster that had befallen another convoy, this one on a dusty highway north of Beijing. In a piece of rather silly bl.u.s.ter, he had sent not only troops but two armored vehicles to the sight of his nightmare. a.s.suming that the farmers must have had help from the locals, his soldiers brutally beat several hapless peasants, further engendering discontent among those who were typically far removed from Beijing's trials and tribulations. As he might have a.s.sumed, had he not been so consumed with revenge, the perpetrators were gone and had left behind only their now infamous calling cards arrows.
Given the elapsed time and the initial confusion over the distress call, the farmers were now well away from the scene, a few having already reached their destinations. With his thirst for immediate revenge gnawing at him, Li cast wildly about for some action that might net him quick gains. He had already dispatched several military helicopters to search for suspicious farm trucks and had set up road blocks, but aside from terrifying a number of innocent citizens, he had come up empty-handed. Had he not been so totally consumed with ego-centric displays of fury, he might have looked in on his admirals. Not since his order regarding Vietnam had drifted through his mind just before falling asleep had he given any thought to what should have been receiving his full attention. Like other recent mistakes, that would return to haunt him.
As the convoy continued south along the coast, radar on both frigates picked up a single plane leaving Hainan's military airfield. It was quickly identified as Chinese a Y8-CB, China's newest surveillance aircraft, bristling with antennae. It was unescorted, not because it was so close to the coast as to be sure to provoke conflict if accompanied by fighters, but because China intended to chose the time and place of any hostility.
The Chinese aircraft immediately spotted the two Vietnamese SU-27's that were scrambled to observe it. Airmen on the Chinese plane as well as the Vietnamese fighters could see each other quite plainly, though the SU-27's kept enough s.p.a.ce between them and the Y8-CB to avoid a repeat of a collision between a Chinese fighter and an American surveillance aircraft which had ended with the capture and internment of the American plane and its crew. The reconnaissance plane made another pa.s.s over the container s.h.i.+p, this time lower. The American flag was clearly visible, as were two modern Russian-built frigates. If the Chinese were to choose to attack the convoy, there could no longer be any doubt as to exactly who and what they were attacking.
Though his doctors had made it plain that he must not attempt to speak until the hole in his diaphragm had healed, Virgil was sitting up in bed watching cable news. The hospital had agreed to move Molly in with him and Ping, their faithful protector, now watched over both of them. Though a police officer sat outside the room 24/7, hospital staff joked that if there were any hit men in the area, they should be more afraid of Ping than the cop. She kept a wary eye on anyone who entered the room, doctors included.
It was during the evening news broadcast that video smuggled out of China brought resounding laughter to living rooms around the world. Pictures of Chinese military vehicles, their tires looking like victims of a porcupine attack, and empty buses that had held dissidents destined for a h.e.l.lish concentration camp were broadcast worldwide. Virgil's diaphragm reminded him rather painfully that laughter, like speaking should be avoided; Molly and Ping were in st.i.tches. But they were well aware that there would be repercussions both inside and outside of China. The only question was how far they would go. When the laughter had subsided, Molly noticed Ping looking wistfully out the window, doubtless thinking of friends now in grave danger.
Due to his vocal impairment, Virgil had become quite adept at texting, as had Molly since her neck wounds still made it painful to speak more than a few words. In a ritual emblematic of the 21 century, they would text back and forth even though not more than six feet separated them. No sooner had the news broadcast moved on to another subject than one of his aides texted him with a report that an American container s.h.i.+p had left Vietnam and was expected to challenge the Chinese blockade. In a further bit of disturbing news, the aide told Baines that China was rumored to have moved Brett to Tianjin. The senator sat for several moments before responding.
I'm afraid we have a complete lunatic on our hands, he finally texted.
The American president, having done everything in his power to avoid confronting China in any meaningful way, was finally coming to the conclusion that he was losing the respect of his people to an extent that jeopardized his presidency. Realizing that the likelihood of China resuming its support of him in the form of further investment was virtually nil, he decided to change tack. In an about face from the obsequious cowing to China that had earned him so much derision, he resolved to reinvent himself as a man with backbone. But when a man who understands politics far more than world affairs or warfare suddenly attempts to transform himself into a warrior, the potential for miscalculation increases exponentially.
The president ordered the 7 Fleet, currently south of j.a.pan, to set course for the South China Sea where it would meet the American flagged container s.h.i.+p and escort it eastward into the Pacific. The problem was that the convoy's horseshoe shaped course had taken it first south. It had then turned East toward the Philippines, maintaining a course roughly parallel to and well away from the Chinese coast. Only when it was two hundred miles west of Luzon, the northernmost of the major Philippine islands, would it again turn north and exit, still well south of the Chinese mainland, between Taiwan and the Philippines.
The president had a.s.sumed that the 7 Fleet would sail southwest through the gap south of Taiwan and north of the Philippines, entering the South China Sea just above the 20 parallel. But it would take the fleet approximately as long as it would take the slower moving convoy to reach that point. That meant that only the convoy's exit from the South China Sea could be covered by the fleet's air a.s.sets and the Chinese would have hundreds of miles over which to carry out any attack, none of which could be covered by the 7 Fleet.
Furthermore, the president had provided only for the fleet's defense of itself; the rules of engagement did not specify that Chinese forces attacking the container s.h.i.+p could be engaged, thus making the American fleet mere spectators. The point of the exercise thus eluded everyone in the navy. Finally, disregarding a fundamental foundation of all military doctrine, the president had specified that no other carrier battle group be ordered into the area as a reserve force. The man had placed a warrior's hat upon his head, but in his heart he was still a politician.
On the bridge of the carrier USS George Was.h.i.+ngton, Captain Johnston was trying to contain the rage in his gut at the utter stupidity of his commander-in-chief's orders. If the carrier battle group could not defend the container s.h.i.+p, then why had the president ordered it into harms way? What could possibly be gained if China was to be allowed to sink the container s.h.i.+p with impunity while a US carrier battle group stood by watching? And what force would come to the 7 Fleet's a.s.sistance if some of its s.h.i.+ps were attacked, damaged or sunk? It would mean the unmitigated humiliation of the United States Navy, not to mention the potential loss of some of its s.h.i.+ps. The captain wondered if his president had any idea what he was getting into - or any strategy for getting out of it.
Upon being informed that the Vietnamese frigates were escorting an American-flagged container s.h.i.+p, Li paused but said nothing. The naval aide who had arrived with the news stood by silently, awaiting instruction. Like the American carrier captain, he was keenly aware that should China choose to move to the next level by directly attacking an American vessel, one of two outcomes was likely: the American president would either fold or he would defend the convoy. The problem was that when politicians with utterly no military experience, out of ego or fear for their job, resort to military action, the absence of forethought makes it far more likely that events will spiral out of control.
We now have two presidents who don't know one end of a gun from the other controlling the most dangerous militaries on the planet, the aide thought uneasily.
"Where is the convoy now?" asked Li.
"Still headed south along the coast, Sir."
"How many submarines do we have in the area?"
"Three, Sir, one is shadowing the convoy but staying well north. The other two are in blocking positions near the twentieth parallel. If the convoy turns north and attempts to reach open ocean between the Philippines and Taiwan, they will be in a position to attack them before the reach that point."
"And if they continue south,"
"Nothing would be accomplished by sailing south except one container s.h.i.+p would have a very costly voyage. Only by exiting north of the Philippines can they expect their maritime traffic to be profitable. Going south proves nothing. They have no choice, they must turn north."
"Inform me immediately when they do," Li said.
As the naval aide suspected, Li had already made up his mind; he had no choice. Much as. .h.i.tler had remarked upon attacking the Soviet Union that he would either make Germany the most powerful nation on Earth or totally destroy her, Li had embarked on a path of ruthless, uncompromising action from which there was no turning back. The naval aide also suspected that, like Hitler, Li's early successes would cause him to grossly overestimate his military prowess and thus eschew the advice of his generals.
The escapees were now scattered over a wide area, hidden by local farmers and transported under boxes of fruits and vegetables. With thousands upon thousands of farms necessary to feed more than a billion people, even the formidable forces Li had unleashed to find them could only scratch the surface. But the goal was not simply to hide the dissidents, it was to organize them into groups that could plan and execute operations against the regime. The days of pa.s.sive protest had come to an end.
The uprising had begun.
The dissidents knew that having deeply shamed their government and the tyrant at its head, capture meant death. While this did not make for restful sleep, it gave them the courage of those who have nothing to lose. And they now had unlikely allies, disaffected Muslims from the western provinces whose demonstrations were also being ruthlessly suppressed by the government. While the authorities in countries such as Iran and Syria were at least ostensibly supporting China in return for her support in the UN, the reality was that China is the most G.o.dless nation on Earth and it is the duty of Muslims everywhere to challenge that.
Accordingly, militant Islamists in neighboring countries had begun to supply explosives to their counterparts in China. And while few dissidents in eastern China had any inclination toward Islam, they shared a common enemy, one who resided in Beijing. Since, properly labeled, a carton of onions is indistinguishable from a carton of PETN or plastic explosives and since fruits and vegetables had in the 21 century become world travelers, who better to transport them than farmers? China could not possibly monitor every s.h.i.+pment, not with a highly perishable commodity and more than a billion mouths to feed.
Hong now had in his possession two crates of a sophisticated explosive, though this particular crate had been shepherded to its destination by some decidedly non-Muslim allies. It had also been promised that he would soon receive instruction in its use. All that remained was a suitable target, and the American executive, Reynolds, had provided one.
That Li Guo Peng would be so heartless as to place the father of one of the newlyweds, who had suffered so unspeakably in China, in the place where he would share the same fate was beyond words. Dissidents, by and large, tended to be educated, enlightened individuals whose sense of outrage at what China had done to two innocent foreigners now instilled in them a determination that would soon make itself felt.
Jun turned the same corner for the sixth time in twenty-four hours. He noted that a police car with two officers in it had been present in the same place each time. He drove his cab through the surrounding area, noticing another unmarked car with two plainclothes officers in it, obviously backup intended to be unseen. A friend who made deliveries to the No. 77 Central Hospital told him there were two policemen at each entrance and perhaps more inside, though he had no way of knowing. The dissidents no longer had anyone actually working inside the hospital, the authorities having ruthlessly screened everyone for any likelihood that they were sympathetic to the cause.
As a cab driver, Jun had the perfect cover for a spy. He could travel almost anywhere without attracting attention. His next step would be to enter the hospital looking for a fare that had called; his boss would make sure that such calls from the hospital were directed to him. But the challenge that Jun and his fellow dissidents faced was formidable; they hoped to figure a way to use the explosives to create a distraction sufficient to rescue the American, but they had no idea how.
Unfortunately, their lack of military experience was second only to their naivete in terms of the likelihood of that succeeding. The first escape attempt had been successful due, in no small part, to the element of surprise; the authorities had never considered the possibility of a rescue. As would be obvious to any second year military cadet, there would now be a plan in place to thwart any such attempt. However well-meaning the dissidents were, they would need far more than intentions to succeed. They would need the help of experts.
As if their chance of success were not already miniscule, there was another obstacle that stood in their way the emba.s.sy of the very country whose citizen they were trying to save. On her first trip abroad, Valerie Waters, the American Secretary of State, had said that she could not allow human rights to get in the way of working with China on global challenges. In other words, politics once again trumped principles in the eyes of the current administration. But, as had been amply demonstrated on the Yellow Sea, not everyone in the United States government was willing to allow an American citizen to become an unwilling organ donor, much less a hero who had saved untold numbers of his fellow citizens.
Three new attaches had just arrived at the emba.s.sy, attache being a catch-all term for personnel who work at an emba.s.sy in any of a number of capacities and who typically carry diplomatic pa.s.sports. The host country usually a.s.sumes they are spies and often that is the case. After photographing them, Chinese authorities began searching databases, as is normal procedure, to see what they could learn. The fact that none of their photos were on file only served to confirm that, at least until proven otherwise, they were spies.
All American emba.s.sies, while ostensibly under the control of their amba.s.sadors, have CIA and other intelligence types working there, using the emba.s.sy as a base and for cover. While the amba.s.sador would like to believe he can dictate to these people, that is not always the case. At the root of this disagreement is the stark dichotomy between men of words and men of action. Diplomats, by nature and calling, believe there is no problem their eloquence can't solve. Tens years of fruitless 'negotiations' over Iran's nuclear program would seem to say otherwise, as would talks taking place just hours before j.a.pan's fleet attacked Pearl Harbor.
The CIA and military, on the other hand, believe that there comes a point when words have either clearly failed or were pointless from the start. This, coupled with the current elevated animosity between State and Defense and CIA, meant that the amba.s.sador and the attaches in his emba.s.sy rarely spoke; in fact, the amba.s.sador's aides were actively spying on them and reporting back to him. But to spies, being spied upon is as perennial as the sun and in private the attaches spoke derisively of the aides' clumsy attempts at eavesdropping.
The bottom line was that the administration realized it was on very rocky ground and could not afford another public dispute with either the CIA or the Department of Defense, details of the most recent one having been widely leaked. Furthermore, the president saw it as an opportunity to have someone else upon whom he could pin any misadventure, even one of his own making.
As might be a.s.sumed, any diplomat, real or otherwise, who leaves the emba.s.sy, is followed by one or more of the host country's agents whose job it is to learn whatever they can, but most of all to keep tabs on everyone from the emba.s.sy. Woe to the agent who loses the cat and mouse game of follow the spy and has to report back that he knows not where he went. The game can become quite sophisticated with every manner of truck and car coming and going from the emba.s.sy, not to mention the foot traffic. There was even an incident where the CIA used the fact that the local sewer system pa.s.sed under the emba.s.sy as an opportunity to create another entrance. The host country was quite baffled, at least for awhile, how certain people seemed to be able to appear and disappear. But the lingering aroma on a certain agent finally brought an end to that ploy.
It was a rather sw.a.n.ky lunch at a Western hotel which under normal circ.u.mstances would have been off limits for their expense accounts. However, it served a purpose because the Chinese agents clearly identified themselves by taking a table, but not ordering; a meal here would cost a week's salary and their expense accounts were strictly noodles. After a marvelous meal spoiled only by the Chinese agents' clumsy attempt to appear nonchalant while dining on tea, one of the attaches got up to use the restroom. Since there was a door opening to a staircase in the same hallway which, due to the attaches choice of table, could not be seen by the agents, one of the attaches was able to make his way to the bas.e.m.e.nt. The other two paid the bill and got on one of the elevators. When the elevator reached the 11 floor, the attaches got off, took the stairs down to the 10 floor and got on another elevator to the bas.e.m.e.nt where there were shops, a tailor, a barber etc. The tailor, no friend of the regime and well-paid by the CIA, showed them to a loading dock where they went their separate ways.
a.s.suming that the Chinese agents could be smarter than they had appeared or were not alone, each attache boarded a separate series of buses, each ride punctuated by a long walk to ascertain that there was no one following. One then boarded a taxi driven by Jun and the other two were loaned nimble 125cc motorcycles by dissidents also supported by the CIA. Having changed clothes in the tailor's shop and now wearing full-face motorcycle helmets, the attaches could travel the streets anonymously.
The sun had just set when the convoy turned west south of Hue. The plan was to skirt the Paracel Islands, over which had been fought a b.l.o.o.d.y conflict in 1974 with China emerging as the winner. Other than a few troops stationed there, the islands are uninhabited. The convoy would cross in plain sight of the islands, but in an era of satellites and radar, this was irrelevant. It was expected that China would make its move sometime after the convoy had emerged into the center of the South China Sea but before it sailed near the southern coast of Taiwan on its way to open ocean. That provided China with hundreds of miles of open water in which to stage whatever it had planned. Everyone aboard the three s.h.i.+ps was fully aware that China was tracking their movement. In fact, the Vietnamese frigates had earlier picked up the sounds of the submarine that was tailing them and in turn were tracking it. They were not, however, aware that two more lay in wait along their path northward.
On the bridge of the USS George Was.h.i.+ngton, the captain had been informed by the US Cowpens, Aegis guided-missile cruiser CG 63, that two long-distance submarine contacts were likely Chinese submarines. It was expected their cla.s.s and ident.i.ties would be verified soon. The USS Oklahoma City SSN 723, a Los Angeles-cla.s.s nuclear attack submarine that preceded the battle group, had discovered the enemy subs. The USS Buffalo SSN 715, another Los Angeles-cla.s.s sub was trailing the fleet in case there were other subs to the rear. The captain had also requested, and received, the USS Hawaii, which was not only intimately familiar with the area but was one of the most modern attack subs in the navy. She had already proven her ability to be a fly on the wall and was currently doing precisely that.
If there was anything that worried the battle group commander, aside from the indecisiveness and motives of his commander-in-chief, it was that the Chinese could have one or more diesel powered submarines lying in wait on the bottom. In this position and with their diesel engines shut down, they would be nearly impossible to hear until they made their move, which might be too late. But then again, his fly on the wall was there for just such an eventuality. The carrier captain still had not received any updates to his rules of engagement which continued to annoy him greatly.
The office wasn't much bigger than the old desk and file cabinets it contained. In and out bins piled so high with papers as to be virtually indistinguishable and a grimy calculator were the sole objects atop the desk. Had it not been for the Kalashnikov in the corner, it would have looked like so many other offices whose owners expend far more time trying to earn money than keeping track of it. The rifle had occupied the corner for less than a day; mere possession of it punishable by death, as were many of the other acts its new owner had committed in the past forty-eight hours.
A stocky teenager with brush-short hair and callused hands like his father called from across the warehouse; someone was coming. Hong picked up the Kalashnikov and walked to a pair of tired, sagging doors and peered through the uneven crack between them. In the distance a taxi was lurching from pothole to rut on the road that would eventually lead it to the building. Though it was expected, that did not entirely quell the unease that the approach of any vehicle caused now.
The driver was scarcely recognizable in the fading evening light and for all appearances was alone. When his taxi had clattered over the last b.u.mp and come to a stop, Jun got out and opened the trunk. A head, then a body, and finally two very stiff legs emerged. Wearing cargo pants and carrying a small backpack, the man climbed out of the trunk carefully, his eyes searching the surroundings. Before entering the building, he pulled a strange device from the backpack and spent a full minute scanning the night sky.
Only when he sensed no immediate danger did he hold his hand out to Hong. Not tall but heavily built, the foreigner had an easy smile that did not conceal his wariness. His look was direct and seemed to say: Now is your chance to impress me. Before taking the stranger inside, Hong ordered his son to a spot where he could conceal himself and watch for unwanted visitors.
A delicious aroma was coming from one corner where Hong's wife was preparing tea and a large pot of something on a pair of hotplates. Metal cups and plates were stacked nearby on a juice-stained table that also held an old set of bra.s.s scales. She looked over and smiled. Hong dragged an old skid dolly with squeaky wheels to a helter-skelter stack of skids and shoved it into the bottom of the pile. With the skids removed, a trap door was visible in the floor. Beckoning the stranger to lift one end, he swung the heavy door up until it rested against a pillar.
Below, a lone candle revealed the shadowy faces of ten men, some sitting on grimy mattresses. Most were dressed in scuffed or torn clothing; some showing blood stains. Several had been crudely bandaged where they had been kicked or beaten. All were happy to at last be able to come up out of the ground for some exercise and food. As each in turn climbed the primitive steps out of the hole, the foreigner's eyes met theirs, looking as he might at a new group of recruits. The fourth man was dressed in an army uniform, as was one other. They had made a fateful decision on the highway the day before, one they would have to live with, if they were lucky. But at least they had military training, uniforms and weapons which could be put to good use.
The foreigner looked carefully at each, wondering to himself: Are you in complete control of yourself? Are you willing to sacrifice to save others? Will you do what you have said you will do?
Since it was obvious that they, like him, badly needed to stretch their limbs, he began a set of loosening-up exercises which they imitated. The two in uniform were clearly no strangers to the military's version of stretching. By the time he had led them through several sets of calisthenics, Hong's wife said something that judging from the twitching noses meant that dinner was ready.
The group sat in a circle on the dirt floor, eagerly spooning the stew into their hungry mouths, speaking little. When they were finished, the stranger asked how many could speak English. There were five, three of whom were students who spoke it fairly well. One volunteered to translate. After pausing to look at each man one more time, the stranger pulled an object from the crate behind him and began to speak.
Practically a resort, he thought. Single room with a toilet and sink. A chance to heal. Wonder how the food is? With the outlook and sense of humor typical of an ex-Navy Seal, Brett surveyed the room in which he now found himself. Not a lot to work with in terms of escape but, hey, maybe something will present itself. He'd walked the perimeter, such as it was, checked the composition of the walls and door, and tried to look under the door. While it didn't seem very bright to him to have paraded him through the airport and put him on a pa.s.senger jet full of gawkers, the jokers had put a hood over his head when they brought him in here, wherever here was. They'd turned right into the room and gone through a metal door at the end of the hall, so he knew that an exit was to the left. That was a long way from getting him outside and away, but it was a start.
Not that he was fooling himself. Between the signs in the airport and what he'd learned in Hong Kong, it was pretty clear this wasn't a place anyone wanted to be. The emba.s.sy rep in Hong Kong had told him his son and daughter-in-law were safe and out of the country, which was wonderful news, but it also made another successful jailbreak far less likely. Never waste time thinking about the negatives, focus on the escape plan had been drilled into him in Seal training; he hadn't forgotten and wouldn't. As for the escape plan, it was still pretty rudimentary.
Then the lights went out. So much for the food . . .
66.
It was an American satellite that first picked up a s.h.i.+p more than five hundred feet long leaving the port of Zhanjiang, north of Hainan. Since there is only one cla.s.s of s.h.i.+p this size in the Chinese Navy, identification was immediate. Minutes later she was followed by her sister s.h.i.+p. The departure of two major wars.h.i.+ps was instantly flashed to 7 Fleet headquarters, the Pentagon and the carrier battle group now heading for the South China Sea.
With its 48 long-range surface-to-air missiles, 8 anti-s.h.i.+p / land attack cruise missiles, 2 - 30mm close-in weapons systems, 6 torpedo tubes and 100mm main deck gun, the Lanzhou cla.s.s of destroyers are among the most dangerous wars.h.i.+ps on the planet. To Captain Samuel Johnston on the bridge of the USS George Was.h.i.+ngton, the message was clear: on his present course two wars.h.i.+ps specifically designed to attack his carrier-based aircraft were now on a course that would intersect with his fleet. China had upped the ante.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Secretary of the Navy, Secretary of Defense as well the CIA Director requested an emergency meeting with the president and were in the White House Situation Room in thirty minutes. The president for reasons unknown did not arrive for another twenty minutes. When he and his chief of staff arrived and were settled, the SecDef began: "Mr. President, it would appear that China intends to challenge the 7 Fleet which is heading toward the South China Sea. Two powerful destroyers with highly potent air-defense capabilities have left Zhanjiang, and in the past twenty minutes, two frigates have also sortied. Coupled with two of their advanced Song-cla.s.s submarines, it is a force that could prove challenging to the fleet."
The president did not immediately respond. The tension with Larimer and Benedict over their actions surrounding the Tianjin affair had been palpable at every meeting since and it still hung in the air. Had the president not been so weakened by the public's perception of his own actions in the matter, he would have dismissed both men and charged them with insubordination, if not treason. Every time he laid eyes on them, they reminded him of his own impotence and he loathed them for it. He had been staring at the wall as the SecDef made his initial statement and only now looked over at him.
"Why do you a.s.sume the Chinese intend to challenge the fleet, Mel?" He posed the question in an almost casual manner that seemed curiously out of place. "How can you be sure it's not a bluff?"
"I used the word 'appear,' Mr. President, since there is no way to know their intentions at this juncture. However, since at no point has so powerful a Chinese force ever placed itself in the vicinity of a carrier battle group, we must consider the possibility that they intend to use it for more than bluff. Furthermore, by sinking the Filipino frigate and the container s.h.i.+p, they have demonstrated a boldness not seen before."