Dragon Fire

Foreign Ministry, Beijing, China

By coincidence, Jamie Song was meeting Reece Overhalt when Japanese Ambassador Kazuo Nishimura insisted on an audience in a remarkably obstinate and un-Japanese manner. Overhalt and Nishimura had spoken barely an hour earlier, when Overhalt heard of Japan’s plans to move in on the Taiwan Straits, and was now in the middle of relaying it to Jamie Song.

Song asked Nishimura in. The two television sets were both on with the volume low, but audible, showing BBC World and CNN, the pictures lagging behind events by only a few minutes. On the screen was the damaged facade of the Parliament building. Members staggering out, their clothes torn, some bleeding, and emergency vehicles arriving inside the complex.

‘Foreign Minister, I insist you urge your President to speak to Prime Minister Wada. It is a great insult for him to ignore my Prime Minister’s calls.’

Jamie Song shrugged. It was only mid-morning but he was sharing a malt whisky with Reece Overhalt. He offered a glass to Nishimura, who refused. ‘Ambassador, the decisions are being made at our military headquarters in the Western Hills. In peacetime China, the tapestry of trade, diplomacy, commerce, politics and the military rumble along jostling for position with each other in the big picture. But in wartime, every voice is dampened except for that of the military. We are now in wartime. I imagine that the man in control of China is not President Tao, but General Leung. This might last just the morning, or it might last for ever. I have no idea.’

Song hadn’t bothered to offer Nishimura a seat. The ambassador sat down uninvited. ‘Prime Minister Wada has made a decision to send Japanese forces to the Straits of Taiwan.’

‘So Reece was saying. Personally, I think it is a mistake.’

‘But your actions have been intolerable. They cannot be accepted in modern Asia.’

‘I don’t think so. Our territory was invaded by Indian troops, our oil supplies threatened by Indian warships, our naval base attacked by British forces, and Taiwan has chosen this very moment to make a declaration of independence. Tell me, Ambassador, what would you do in our situation? Just let it all happen? Give Tibet to India? Hand over our naval bases to the British? Let India control shipping in the Indian Ocean? Welcome Taiwan’s separation from the Motherland?’

‘There are channels. The United Nations.’

‘What we call closing the door after the horse has bolted,’ growled Overhalt.

‘If you continue, you will become isolated by the international community,’ said Nishimura. ‘As I said, your actions are unacceptable.’

Jamie Song stood up. He was unshaven, his eyes were bloodshot and he clearly had not slept properly for several days. ‘Get out!’ he shouted. ‘What right has Japan to tell us that our actions are unacceptable? What right have you to dictate levels of morality to me after slaughtering Chinese people and other Asians with impunity!’ Song moved so quickly towards Nishimura that Reece Overhalt was also on his feet, ready to intervene. Song stopped half a metre away from the Japanese Ambassador and gripped his arm. ‘Don’t threaten China. Don’t try to humiliate her. Don’t boast about Indian — Japanese solidarity. Your country carried out the most horrendous atrocities and then rose up to try to claim the mantle of Asian power again. It will not happen. China will not let it happen. We will see this through to the end, believe me, and whatever decisions are being made now in the Western Hills, I, as a Chinese citizen, will support them without hesitation.’

When Nishimura had scuttled away, Song sank back down into his chair, looking at the television scenes of devastation from Taipei.

‘Jamie, what do you think Leung will do?’ asked Overhalt softly.

‘Remember what Mao said? “The Chinese people will never be slaves again.” We’ll see it through, Reece. Even if it means the destruction of China.’