Fatal Terrain

CHAPTER THREE

“You have thirty seconds to explain,” Chief of Staff General Chin Po Zi- hong thundered, “why you ordered this insane, monstrous attack. I have already ordered that you be dismissed as my chief deputy. Your response will determine whether or not you spend the rest of your life in prison for what you have done — or if you are executed as a traitor! ” The Minister of National Defense, Chi Haotian, waited for the response as well, hands on the armrests of his chair, watching Chins deputy — rather, exdeputy—Admiral Sun Ji Guoming, with a sagging, tired grimace.

“Our carrier and its escort ships were under attack by rebel Nationalist naval forces, assisted by an unknown force launching anti-radar and anti-ship missiles, sir,” Admiral Sun responded, his voice loud, steady, and assertive. “I suspected a stealth aircraft attack, based on the same type of reports during the recent United States-Iran conflict, and I immediately ordered a full-scale counterattack.”

“You ordered? You are just a deputy, Sun, not a commander!” Chin thundered. “You have no authority to launch a strike mission or countermand my orders!”

“I beg your understanding, Comrade General,” Sun said, with as much sincerity as he could muster, keeping his eyes averted, “but there was no time. Our forces were being decimated by the rebel warships and the American B-52 bomber. If I had gone through proper channels, the American aircraft would have wiped out our battle group.”

“A B-52 bomber!” Minister of Defense Chi exclaimed. Chi knew well the power of the American B-52s — he had been in power during the abortive attack on the Philippines. “This is incredible! Are you sure, Sun?”

“The Nationalists used an American stealth aircraft to support an illegal intercept on the high seas against our warships, sir,” Sun retorted. “The fighter pilots from the carrier Mao confirmed the sighting before they were shot down — another act of war. I used my judgment and ordered our battle group to commence their attack against Quemoy from long range—”

“With nuclear weapons?” Chin retorted. “You ordered Yi to launch a thermonuclear attack against the Nationalists?”

“I ordered Admiral Yi to do everything in his power to defend his battle group and carry out his attack orders,” Sun replied. “I did not order him to launch a nuclear attack — but I support his decision to do so. His battle group is intact with only minor losses, the rebels have been severely wounded, and the world is paralyzed with fear. The mission was successful.”

“You are absolutely insane, Sun! ” Chin said, unable to believe what his subordinate was saying. “You actually think this action was proper? Do you think nuclear weapons are just another bullet to take from your belt and load into your pistol? Did you stop to think for one second about the consequences?”

“I have thought of little else, sir! ” Sun responded. “Sun-tzu says that if an incendiary attack can be launched from outside without relying on inside assistance, it should be initiated.”

“So now I suppose you think we should invade?”

“No, sir,” Sun said. “We should desist.”

“What? You approved a nuclear attack on Quemoy — don’t try to deny it, Sun, you gave the order without specifically mentioning nuclear devices — then say we should not continue the invasion?” Chin shook his head in stunned disbelief. “I do not understand you, Sun! You orchestrated a nuclear attack against the Nationalists, an attack that may well isolate China for decades in the eyes of the world, and now you advise us to abandon the mission? Why? Explain yourself! ”

“Because we initiated an incendiary attack against the Nationalist army on Quemoy, and they are quiet,” Sun replied. “Sun-tzu teaches us that if the enemy is quiet after such an attack, wait and do not attack, for it means that the fires did not substantially weaken them.”

“Explain in words other than this ancient drivel, Admiral! ”

“The blast was not directly over Quemoy, and it appears it was not a full yield,” Sun replied. “I think the rebel forces on Quemoy are mostly still intact, protected in underground command centers, garrisons, and marshaling areas. Besides, our fleet was substantially damaged, morale among the naval forces is low because of the ferocity of the stealth bomber attacks, our ground forces are not ready, and the Americans are on the alert. No, we cannot press the attack now. We have no choice but to withdraw.”

Chin shook his head, totally confused. Minister Chi asked, “So what happens now, Admiral? We do not fight, we do not attack. The Paramount Leader’s directive is no more. What are we left with, comrade?”

“Sir, we have proven that the United States committed an act of war upon the People’s Republic of China by firing anti-ship missiles at our ships — this may be our most potent weapon against the influence of the Americans in our region,” Sun said. “We have shown that the Americans are terrorists, that they will stop at nothing, break any law, to advance their agenda. This undeclared war, this illegal attack against our battle group, combined with their illegal overflight of our airspace without permission by an armed combat aircraft during the Iranian conflict, deserves immediate world condemnation! China has long been criticized, even ostracized, in the eyes of the world for our perceived human rights record — tell me, sir, how do you think the United States will be regarded in the eyes of the world when they are proven to be the greatest terrorist nation ever to exist in the history of the planet?”

To General Chin’s surprise, Minister Chi was quiet — which was in effect an endorsement of Sun’s actions. The tide was turning here, Chin thought — it might be best not to complain too loudly. But Sun Ji Guoming had clearly overstepped his authority and usurped the rank and office of the Chief of Staff of the Liberation Army, and he had to be removed from office as soon as possible. “You claim that a B-52 bomber shot down three Su-33 fighters, the best combat aircraft in our air army?” Chin asked derisively. “Impossible.”

“That is the pilot’s report, sir,” Sun said excitedly. “The third pilot radioed details of the attacks just before he began his counterattack. The Sukhoi pilots are the best pilots in the air army; I believe their statement. It is too implausible to be anything but the truth.”

“That is your criterion for judging the validity of this report — that it is too unbelievable to be a false or inaccurate report?” Chin exploded. “Have you gone insane, Sun?”

“Sir, Comrade Minister, we have seen intelligence reports on this aircraft from Russian sources,” Sun said. “It was supposedly used in the conflict between Lithuania and Belarus. Our own analysts claim that these modified planes may have been used against us in our conflict in the Philippines — the planes we assumed to be standard B-52G or — H bombers could have been these planes—”

“Enough,” Chin shouted. “You are too incompetent to wear those stars, Sun. You are a disgrace to the uniform and to your entire lineage.”

“Wait, Comrade General,” Minister of Defense Chi interjected in a low, gravelly voice. “I wish to hear more.” Then, to Chin himself, he added, “And I wish to hear more from you about what you intend to offer as a response to the Central Military Commission.”

“Very well, sir,” Chin said. “Sun, you are dismissed—”

“I said, Sun shall stay!” Chi shouted.

Chin stood at attention and lowered his eyes as a sign of respect and obedience, but he was obviously seething over the fact that Chi Haotian was not giving him free rein in disciplining his subordinates. “Comrade Minister, there should be no discussion here over the fate of this insolent pup,” General Chin said, keeping his voice respectful although he was fighting mad. “Sir, we could very well be facing nuclear war with the West because of this one unauthorized, ill-conceived, suicidal mission. It is only proper that Admiral Sun should not just be stripped of his position and rank and removed from the People’s Liberation Army, but possibly imprisoned for life, for what he has done—”

“You seem to prefer doing battle with your subordinates rather than doing battle with the enemy, Comrade General,” a voice said behind Chin. The chief of staff turned — and saw President Jiang Zemin himself enter the minister of defense’s office, flanked by his bodyguards. General Chin shot to his feet in surprise; Chi and Sun snapped to attention and bowed respectfully. Chin Po Zihong was staring dumbfounded into the Paramount Leader’s eyes. “So. Do you now wish to do battle with me, Comrade General?”

Chin quickly snapped out of his shock, realized what he was doing, and bowed deeply, keeping his eyes averted. “Forgive me, Comrade President,” the general said. “I… I was not informed that you would be attending this meeting.”

“No one appears to be informing you of anything these days, Comrade General,” Jiang said with uncharacteristic sarcasm. He took a seat at Chi’s desk and sat stiffly, regarding General Chin for several long moments. “The People’s Liberation Army has suffered one of its most embarrassing, one of its most humiliating moments in its history today, General Chin Po Zihong. Wire services around the world are already reporting it; the presidents of most of the world’s industrial nations have called me, demanding an explanation. Speak.”

“Comrade President,” Chin began, “my staff has just now informed me that there is evidence that an American stealth warplane was assisting the rebel craft, and that it was the Americans who attacked one of our destroyers and then shot down three of our fighter jets sent to monitor the—”

“Admiral Sun has already given me the details,” Jiang said. Chin could not help but shoot a deadly glare at Sun for going over his head and reporting directly to the minister of defense and the president. “And do not think,” Jiang added, “that Comrade Sun violated the chain of command — because I ordered him to take the initiative in case the Americans should try to interfere with our plans to occupy Quemoy Dao.”

“You… you ordered him to act on his own, without my permission and without an approved plan from the General Staff?” Chin stammered.

“General, as Admiral Sun has so accurately pointed out, it has become apparent that the Americans are waging a war of terrorism against us,” President Jiang said by way of response. “The Americans are choosing to use their stealth aircraft and guided standoff missiles to destroy our forces and keep our government off balance. They could have destroyed our ships and killed thousands of People’s Liberation Army Navy soldiers and sailors, just as they did in their skirmish with the Islamic Republic of Iran.

“It is now obvious that the Americans hold the Mao Zedong carrier battle group at risk with their stealth bombers,” Jiang went on. “This situation has become intolerable, and drastic action must be taken immediately. In keeping with my wishes and those of the people to rid our waters and our legacy of illegal and harmful foreign influences, Admiral Sun has developed a plan to do just that — first isolate, then cripple, then destroy the American air and naval forces operating off our shores.”

General Chin’s mind was spinning with confusion. Was he being replaced? Was his career in jeopardy from this young idealistic philosopherquoting upstart? “Comrade President, I agree with everything you say,” Chin said. “It is indeed the time to act. But are you proposing to place the forces of the world’s largest military power in the hands of Admiral Sun Ji Guoming? He does not have the experience or the training. He possesses only rudimentary knowledge on how to deploy and command large naval forces, and very little knowledge or experience in commanding large ground and air forces.”

“We will not place our military forces in Admiral Sun’s hands, General — you will retain your command,” Jiang said. “Admiral Sun will take command of certain… irregular forces.”

“Irregular forces? What do you mean, sir?”

“In time, you will be briefed on the deployment of his forces,” Jiang said, rising from his chair and heading for the door. “In the meantime, Admiral Sun has full authority from the Central Military Commission and my office to conduct whatever maneuvers or operations he sees necessary. He is obliged to notify you prior to the start of operations, and he is encouraged to seek your guidance and support, but he has no obligation to do either. Admiral?”

“Thank you, sir,” Sun Ji Guoming said, bowing deeply to Jiang Zemin. He then bowed to General Chin and said, “General, you will order the Mao carrier battle group to withdraw from its attack on Quemoy and proceed at best speed to Xianggang.”

“Xianggang? Xianggang?” Chin repeated in disbelief. Xianggang, formerly known as Victoria, was the capital and main port city on the island province of Hong Kong, which was set to return to Chinese control on the first of July. “Why should we sail it all the way to Hong Kong when it may be a critical weapon in the defense and occupation of Quemoy Dao?”

“The Mao and its escorts will be used to help celebrate our Reunification Day festivities,” Admiral Sun said. “We shall stage fireworks demonstrations from its decks, invite guests and the international media aboard, even give cruises around Hong Kong on it.”

“Use our aircraft carrier, our most powerful naval vessel… to give rides?”

“After that,” Sun said calmly, “it will be deployed for an extended shakedown cruise to Lushun.”

“Lushun? Why sail it to Lushun, sir?” Chin protested again to Jiang. Lushun, once known as Port Arthur, was an important international shipping and naval facility located on the tip of the Liaotung peninsula, between the Bohai, or Gulf of Chihli, and Korea Bay, 250 kilometers west of the North Korean capital of Pyongyang. “Do you plan to involve it in any attack operations in defense of North Korea, in case the Americans or South Koreans invade? If so, I think that is a foolhardy plan. The carrier will be more vulnerable to air attacks from South Korea, Japan, even Alaska. If anything, we should send it back to the Nansha Dao to defend our rights to access to the South China Sea.”

“Comrade General, it is so ordered,” Minister of Defense Chi Haot- ian interjected. “Withdraw the carrier battle group from Quemoy Dao and have them proceed to Xianggang at best possible speed.”

Chin looked at Chi, then Jiang, with a stunned expression, but at the moment there was little he could do. He bowed and said, “Yes, Comrade Minister. Immediately. Any other demands?”

“No, sir,” Sun replied, bowing respectfully. “My thanks to you.” General Chin Po Zihong ignored the gesture. He stood as the president and the defense minister departed, then stopped Admiral Sun as he headed for the door. “So,” Chin said haughtily, “you now have the ear of the president. I see that spouting all that ancient military crap has paid off for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Sun responded simply.

“You may speak freely now, Admiral,” Chin said. “We are practically colleagues, contemporaries.” Suns eyes narrowed at that very sarcastic remark. “Please. Tell me about your plan.”

Sun Ji Guoming hesitated, not knowing whether or not to trust Chin’s sudden friendliness; then he responded, “Sir, my staff has prepared a briefing for you and the general staff, outlining my ideas and suggestions. But this operation is not under my command, sir. I am merely advising the defense minister and Paramount Leader as to—”

“You are nothing more than a bold, loudmouth upstart,” Chin said, “tossing about ancient maxims that no longer apply, to old men who were spoon-fed that crap since they were young boys and who long for a time when Maoist psycho-mystical garbage could conquer the world.”

Admiral Sun smiled and actually appeared to relax when he saw the anger rising in Chins words. “You do not believe in applying the teachings of Master Sun-tzu to today’s challenges, General?” Sun asked. “We have spoken on this many times.”

“Forget that Art of War shit, Sun,” Chin interjected angrily. “What will you do against the Americans? I must know! ”

“I am going to humiliate them, sir,” Sun replied hotly. “I am going to show the Americans that they cannot roam freely over our waters and our region. I am going to make their allies turn against them, isolate them; then I am going to make the American people isolate and hate their own military forces.”

“How? How will you do all this? What forces will you need? How many ships, planes, divisions?”

“This is not a mission for conventional military forces, sir,” Sun said. “My forces will be everywhere, but nowhere; they will be as light as ghosts, but as powerful as the largest ships and the most powerful bombs in the world.”

Chin saw he was going to get no more concrete information than that from Sun, so he shook his head and turned to leave. “It shall be a pleasure for me to see you collapsed and disgraced,” he said over his shoulder at Sun Ji Guoming. “Quoting a bunch of dead philosophers will not help you when the American stealth bombers head over the horizon to decimate our cities and armies.”

“They will not be able to launch anything against us, because they will have no targets on their radarscopes or sonars to attack,” Sun said. “They will see nothing but empty ocean — and their own allies, out of control.”

“My fellow Americans, good evening,” President Kevin Martindale began his televised address to the nation. “I have some important news of a serious disaster that may have potentially serious implications for Americans both at home and overseas.

“At approximately six forty-five p.m. East Coast time, two large-scale explosions were reported in the vicinity of the southern portion of the Formosa Strait, between mainland China and the island of Formosa, the home of the newly independent, democratic Republic of China. Unconfirmed reports indicate that both explosions were nuclear, with yields measuring somewhere between one and seven kilotons.

“I want to assure the American people that we are completely safe, and the situation is under control,” the President went on, deliberately slowing his delivery and speaking as sincerely and as firmly as he could. “First, no American military forces, except for some surveillance units, were in the area at the time of the blast, and the last reports I was given stated that there were no American casualties as a result of the explosions. Second, these explosions were not a prelude to a nuclear war between China and Taiwan or anyone else. It is not yet certain if the explosions were a result of an accident, a deliberate attack, or an act of terrorism. In fact, it is too early to tell precisely who launched the attack in the first place, although our suspicions rest with the naval forces of the People’s Republic of China’s Liberation Army, which have been threatening the Republic of China with attacks for many years. However, both sides in the conflict in the Formosa Strait suffered many casualties, and so we are still investigating. In any case, no one retaliated with similar weapons; no other attacks, nuclear or conventional, took place; and no nations have declared war upon anyone else. Third, there is no evidence so far of serious nuclear contamination or fallout. There are reports of Taiwanese and Japanese nationals fleeing their homes for fear of radioactive fallout, so as a precaution we are advising against travel into eastern China, Taiwan, or southern Japan until the panic has eased and we can assess the danger.

“Fourth, and most importantly, the United States is secure. The government is functioning, and we are carrying out the people’s business, right here in Washington, same as ever. As commander in chief of our nation’s military forces, I have not ordered any retaliatory strikes, and we have not mobilized any of our nuclear forces, nor do I intend to do so. I have ordered our overseas military bases around the world into a heightened state of alert, and I have ordered the Pentagon to hold meetings with high-ranking officers to determine the best course of action to take, but at this time none of our forces anywhere on earth are on a wartime footing. We are ready to respond if necessary, but so far all nations of the world are responding to this tragedy with patience and intelligent reasoning, and so I see no reason to elevate the level of tension by mobilizing any of our forces to a higher state.

“The United States stands ready to assist any countries who request aid, no matter who pushed the button. The nuclear genie has somehow sneaked out of the bottle after being safely sealed away for so many years, and the United States government pledges to do all it can to help see that the genie stays locked away again forever. I assure you, myself and all of my top advisors, civilian and military, are hard at work investigating this horrible tragedy. I will report back to you as soon as possible with more details.

“I’d like to leave you with one last thought, if I may,” the President said. “When I was a kid, I remember a gag poster of an old crusty Navy guy, had to be a hundred years old, at the helm of an old weather-beaten wooden rowboat, with about a dozen more old sailors crowded into the little boat manning the oars, all lit up by a single lantern, and the caption on the poster said, ‘Sleep tight tonight, the U.S. Navy is awake.’ All joking aside, my fellow Americans, I can tell you that a good portion of the United States Navy, along with their comrades in arms in the Air Force, Army, Marines, Coast Guard, and all of the other paramilitary, Guard, Reserves, and civilian members of the best fighting force in the world, the United States armed forces, are awake tonight, watching and ready to defend our homeland, our freedom, and our way of life. Give them your support and trust, and sleep tight — we are awake. Thank you, good night, and God bless America.”

The President knew enough to keep his eyes straight ahead, looking into the camera, until well after the red light was off and technicians started coming over to unplug the mikes from his suit jacket lapels. He shook hands and offered thanks to a few of the technicians, the director, and the all-important makeup person, then made his way to his private study while the cameras and sound equipment were removed from the Oval Office, where Chief of Staff Jerrod Hale had the bank of six regular- screen TVs and two big-screen TVs on in the President’s study. Already in the study with Hale was National Security Advisor Philip Freeman and Secretary of State Jeffrey Hartman; Communications Director Charles Ricardo followed the President.

The study was where Martindale did his real office work — the Oval Office was usually reserved for important meetings and “photo opportunity”-type office work, like signing important legislation. The study had two curtained bulletproof windows, but unlike the Oval Office, the Kevlar-reinforced curtains were always kept closed. Along with the bank of televisions, the study had two computer systems, with which the President was thoroughly educated; it had an exercise treadmill, plenty of seats for secretaries and staffers, and wall-size electronic monitors to display computerized charts, diagrams, or images. It was a good place to watch and listen to the media’s reaction to the President’s address. Afterward, the President’s “spin doctors” would prepare Q&A point papers for all of the top advisors, and within minutes of the address they would be sent out to talk with the press and put some finer finishing touches on the President’s remarks.

“Good speech tonight, Mr. President,” Ricardo offered.

“It sucked,” the President said grumpily, retrieving a can of Tab from the little refrigerator near his desk. “Too skimpy on details — the press will be clamoring for more from anyone they see. The rumors are going to start flying. Let’s get the point paper done and get the staff out there so we can head off the rumors as much as possible. First thing I want to know is, what about the screwup with the Democratic leadership getting on Air Force One? What in hell happened?”

“The Secret Service screwed up, Mr. President — there’s no polite way to put it,” White House Chief of Staff Jerrod Hale replied. “I’ll talk to the Presidential Protection Detail chief myself. The PPD got confused because they were still escorting the press out of the building when the choppers showed up and they got word of an ‘actual’ evacuation. Anyone they didn’t recognize or specifically not accompanying you were held back.”

“They didn’t recognize Finegold? She was on TV more than I was during the last five months of the campaign! ”

“When the Secret Service realized it was an ‘actual’ evacuation rather than an ‘exercise,’ ” Hale went on, “they went a little bonkers. They should have escorted everyone from the Cabinet Room into a chopper and taken them to Andrews with you. But once you were on board Marine One with an ‘actual’ evacuation warning order, they ordered all choppers to launch. If this continues to be an issue in the press, I’ll get the chief of the PPD on the morning talk shows to explain the mix-up.”

“No,” the President snapped. “No one takes the heat for ‘mix-ups’ around here but me.”

Hale was flipping through a small stack of messages that had come in since the President’s address to the nation; he placed one on the desk in front of the President. “A thank-you note from President Lee of Taiwan,” he said. “He heard about the death of a crew member and wants your permission to thank the EB-52 bomber crews personally.”

“How in hell did the ROC find out about the Megafortresses?” the President asked incredulously. “That chance encounter outside the Oval Office? Had to be more than that.”

“We’ll find out, sir,” Freeman said. “It was obviously more than a leak — it was a direct exchange of classified information, a serious breach.”

“Just find out who did it and throw his ass in jail,” the President snapped. “Next, I want to know—”

“You better take a look at this, Mr. President,” Ricardo interrupted, pointing to one of the televisions. “It looks like Finegold’s giving a press conference inside the Capitol.”

The group listened with shocked expressions as Senator Majority Leader Barbara Finegold announced that the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and Senate Armed Services Committee would be holding joint hearings on the report that the President had sent long-range bombers to attack Chinese warships, and whether or not these attacks prompted the Chinese to launch and detonate nuclear weapons — or if the American bombers had been the ones that dropped the nuclear weapons. She quoted the official Chinese government news agency, Xinhua, as saying that B-52 Stratofortress bombers had been spotted in the area launching nuclear-tipped missiles just before the nuclear explosions occurred, and that they had gun camera video to support the claim. Sprinkled throughout the statements and Q&A afterward were words like “independent prosecutor,” “violation of the War Powers Act,” “breach of trust,” and “terrorist.”

“This is unbelievable! Who in hell does she think she is?” the President shouted. “How in hell did she find out?”

“It’s a guess, Mr. President, nothing more,” Ricardo said. “The Chinese news agency is putting their own spin on the skirmish, and Fine- gold is latching on to it. She’s been on the stealth bomber warpath ever since the Iran conflict. She’s slinging shit, looking to see what sticks, that’s all.”

“Terrorist,” Hale muttered bitterly, when he heard the word a third time. He had moved over beside the President so only he could hear his comment. “Sounds like Admiral Balboa put a bug in her ear. I’ll bet he’s talked to Finegold.”

“Don’t even think about shit like that unless you’ve got evidence, and I mean concrete evidence, that he’s done something wrong,” the President said. “Not one word, not even an angry glance in his direction.”

“Kevin, when are you going to stop coddling Balboa?” Hale asked the President in a low voice. Hale was probably the only man in America who could call the President by his first name, and even he rarely used the privilege — he was certainly mad enough to do so now. “He’s a selfserving snake. Force the bastard to retire, or fire his ass. He talked to Fine- gold, I know it.”

“Jerrod, you and your father taught me all I know about leadership,” the President said. “You taught me how to come from nowhere, come from defeat and divorce and obscurity, how to pull together a disorganized party and almost take back the White House and Congress all at once. We didn’t do it by eliminating anyone who ever disagreed with me.”

“What about loyalty, Kevin?” Hale asked. “You always demand absolute loyalty from your people.”

“Balboa is not just an appointee, Jerrod — he’s a soldier,” Martindale replied. “I’m the commander in chief. He either follows my orders, or he destroys his own reputation and honor.”

“What if he doesn’t give a shit about his reputation and honor, as long as he gets whatever the hell he wants?” Hale asked acidly. “Maybe Fine- gold promised him a job somewhere. What if he just decides, since he’s on his way out soon anyway, to destroy your reputation along with his own?”

“If his false accusations stick, then maybe I don’t deserve to be in the White House,” the President said.

Hale clenched his jaw in response. “That’s nonsense, and you know it, Kevin,” Hale said. “The people can be manipulated into thinking anything. There’s nothing noble in losing the White House because Balboa decided to betray your trust, or because the press latched on to a juicy story and let it blow all out of proportion.”

“Hey, Jer, let me remind you, in case you forgot — I did send a B-52 bomber over the Formosa Strait, and it probably did precipitate the Chinese attack on Quemoy,” the President said. “Balboa and Finegold aren’t lying — they’re just talking out of school.”

“But Balboa works for you, sir,” Hale said. “He knows better than to blab to anyone, especially the leadership of the opposition party. Balboa’s got to be stopped.”

“We can handle him, Jerrod, but not by cracking his skull open with a baseball bat,” the President said. “Keep your eyes and ears open, but take no direct action. Got it?” Hale nodded, but he was seething nonetheless. “Get Chastain and Balboa on the videophone.” The President turned to Philip Freeman. “What have you got for me, Philip?”

“Preliminary report from CINCPAC, Admiral Allen, says that either a Taiwanese SAM fired from one of their frigates, or an air-to-air missile fired by the EB-52 Megafortress stationed over the Formosa Strait, shot down a nuclear-tipped Chinese rocket or cruise missile, resulting in a partial nuclear yield,” Freeman said. “Had it not been for the EB-52, Quemoy would’ve been toast — or glass, depending on how powerful a full yield would’ve been. The Taiwanese frigate, identified by the EB-52 crew as the Kin Men, was destroyed by a nuclear-tipped cruise missile.”

“Looks like putting that EB-52 thing out there was a good idea after all,” the President said.

“Maybe not, sir,” Freeman said. “Good possibility that Taiwan could have fired first, followed closely by the Megafortress. Our side could’ve started the whole thing.”

“Shit,” the President muttered, shaking his head. “Who was flying the… ah, damn, never mind, don’t tell me, I know. Brad Elliott was flying the Megafortress, right?” Freeman nodded. “They all right? Elliott, McLanahan — he always flies with Elliott — and the rest of the Megafortress crew? They must’ve been close when the nukes went off.” “Substantial damage, one casualty on Elliott’s EB-52,” Freeman said. “The electronic warfare officer, a young lieutenant. Elliott was slightly injured. The plane’s on its way back, escorted by another Megafortress.” The President felt sorry for the dead crewman, but only because he had the bad luck of flying with Brad Elliott. “It was probably Elliott who spilled the beans to the ROC.” No one in the room offered to refute that theory. “Any chance whatsoever that the nukes came from one of the Megafortresses?”

Freeman paused — and that pause, the realization that he didn’t know, made little hairs on the back of the President’s neck stand up. “I’ll order the Defense Intelligence Agency to do a complete security audit and inspection of the Megafortress project office at Edwards, Sky Masters, Inc., and their facilities on Saipan and on Guam,” Freeman said grimly. “I would love to say that Brad Elliott would never do such a thing as launch a nuclear weapon without permission — and it hurts me to even think this — but I can’t. In fact, I would assume he could get his hands on whatever weapon, nuclear or otherwise, he desired, in fairly short order. ” _

“I’ll lock his cell at Leavenworth permanently myself if he’s to blame for all this,” the President said angrily. “How about any of our ships? Could they have launched a nuclear weapon?”

“None of our surface forces in the Pacific theater have nuclear weapons deployed on them, sir,” Freeman said. “We have three Ohio- class ballistic missile boats on patrol in the Pacific-Indian Ocean fleet; only one, the West Virginia, was in range at the time of the explosion. We’re trying to get in contact with him.”

“How often do they check in?”

“Varies, but it’s much more often than during the Cold War,” Freeman said. Nuclear-powered ballistic missile subs on patrol, even now years after the end of the Cold War, did everything they could to remain undetected for long periods of time, sometimes spending as long as a month sitting on the ocean bottom. These days, they spent less time in total seclusion, but it was still important for them to remain undetected and autonomous, so contacting one was never an easy job. “All of the Los Angeles- and Sturgeon-class attack subs had their nuclear weapons removed five years ago.”

“Double- and triple-check everything, including all vessels that could have had nukes on board — I don’t care how long it’s been,” the President ordered. “If there’s even the wildest possibility that a ship could have loaded and fired a nuclear missile, I want it checked out. What about Taiwan? Do their ships carry nukes?”

“The Hsiung Feng anti-ship missile, which is a license-built version of the Israeli Gabriel, is reported to be able to carry a nuclear warhead, although the Israelis never deployed the missile with them,” Freeman replied. “We believe one of the frigates involved in the skirmish carried these missiles. The larger frigate carried American-made Harpoons and Standard missiles and ASROC rocket-powered torpedoes, which all were at one point or another capable of being fitted with nuclear warheads. Although we never sold any nuclear-capable weapons to Taiwan, if it once had nuclear warheads, there’s every possibility that Taiwan could have readapted their weapons with small nuclear warheads. But chances are very low the explosions were from Taiwanese weapons.”

“Doesn't exactly fill me with confidence,” the President said grimly. “I want to talk with President Lee of Taiwan as soon as possible, and I hope the hell he comes clean with me.” He paused, deep in thought; then: “Let’s talk about China going to nuclear war with Taiwan — or us,” he said grimly. “Any thoughts?”

“Becoming more and more of a reality, sir, considering what’s happened,” Freeman replied. “Last year, despite their threats, I would’ve said it was virtually impossible. Last week, I’d have thought it was improbable. Now I think it’s possible that we could see more low-yield attacks against Taiwan…” He paused, then added, “… and possibly Okinawa, Guam, South Korea, even Japan. Like you said, sir, the genie’s out of the bottle.”

The President slumped in his chair and put a weary hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes as if fighting off a massive headache. “Damn,” he muttered. “Was it a mistake to send those bombers over the Strait? Would any of this be happening?”

“I think it would be ten times worse, Mr. President,” Jerrod Hale said.

“I agree,” Freeman added. “Quemoy might be a smoking hole in the ocean, and Formosa might be under attack as well. Those bombers — in fact, that one bomber — deterred the PLAN from continuing their attack.”

“But we weren’t talking about China destroying Okinawa, Guam, or Japan before,” the President said. “Shit, maybe it would’ve been better if they succeeded in their invasion.”

“Then we’d still be here, talking about our options — except China would have attacked and perhaps destroyed an independent, capitalist, pro-America democracy in Asia,” Freeman said. “Sir, this isn’t your fault — the People’s Republic of China is driving events here, not you. The best we can do is anticipate, react, and hope we don’t escalate the conflict any faster than it’s already moving.”

The President stopped and considered that point of view, then nodded his agreement. “Sometimes I don’t know if it’s my guilty conscience, or the press, that makes me think I’m responsible for every disaster in the world these days,” the President said. “But I’m not going to sit on my ass and watch China or anyone else start World War Three.”

He paused again, shaking his head as if scarcely believing the words that were forming in his head. Finally, he said, “Philip, contact Arthur and George Balboa — I want the commanders in place to prepare to put our nuclear forces back on alert.” The Presidents study seemed to get very quiet, as if all of the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room; even the unflappable Jerrod Hale had a shocked expression on his face. “I want it done as quietly as possible. Just the commanders for now — no aircraft, no subs, no missiles. I want them formed up and ready to start accepting their weapons, but they don’t get any weapons until I give the word.” Hale looked at the President, silently asking, “What about Balboa? ”—he knew that there was no way this could be kept quiet with Balboa chairing the Joint Chiefs of Staff. But the President remained resolute.

Freeman nodded. “HI draft up an executive order for your review and signature,” he said. “The order will stand up the Combined Task Forces inside U.S. Strategic Command. The CTFs will meet in Omaha and organize their staffs, but nothing else until you give the word.” The President nodded absently — he could afford to forget that aspect of this growing threat for now. But Freeman pressed another problem into the foreground: “What about McLanahan and the Megafortresses? Keep them on patrol for now?”

The President recognized that Freeman had phrased the question carefully, interjecting his own opinion into the question — he wanted the EB-52s, with their powerful offensive and defensive weapons, to stay. The President nodded. “As long as they pass a security review, they stay on patrol.”

“Balboa probably won’t like that,” Hale offered.

“Probably not,” the President responded. “But the reason we sent those things out there — because we needed something out there right away, something that could keep an eye on the Chinese and respond in case the shooting started — has come to pass. We need them now more than ever.”

“Admiral Balboa will call for sending in the carriers,” Freeman said.

“No way I’m going to send them in now — they’d be sitting ducks for another nuclear attack,” the President said immediately. “I’m not going to send any carriers into the region. We got one carrier in Japan and the other near Pearl Harbor?”

Freeman nodded. “Both are ready to get under way as soon as ordered. The Independence can be in the area in less than two days. Washington in about four days.”

“Good,” the President said. “If we need them, I’ll send them in— until then, we put diplomatic pressure on China to back off, and we keep the Megafortresses on station. Now let’s finish up what in hell we’re going to tell the media, before someone else fires another shot at my backside.”

NOW ENTERING THE VIDEOCONFERENCE, the computer-synthesized voice announced, LIEUTENANT GENERAL BRADLEY ELLIOTT, RETIRED; COLONEL PATRICK MCLANAHAN, RETIRED; MAJOR NANCY CHESHIRE, USAF, ANDERSEN AIR FORCE BASE, GUAM. CLASSIFICATION, TOP SECRET. VOICE AND DATA SERVICES TERMINATED; PLEASE CHECK OPERATIONAL SECURITY AND REENTER SECURITY ACCESS CODES. A moment later: THANK YOU. FULL VIDEOCONFERENCE SERVICES ACTIVATED.

When the large LCD flat-plate monitor came to life, what Lieutenant General Terrill Samson saw came as a welcome relief: Brad Elliott, Patrick McLanahan, and Air Force Major Nancy Cheshire, alive and well. The Sky Masters, Inc., satellite-based teleconference established a secure, real-time voice, video, and datalink between several different offices around the world: from U.S. Pacific Command headquarters at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, where he and Admiral William Allen, commander of U.S. Pacific Command, waited; the Joint Chiefs’ “Gold Room” Conference Center at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.; all the way to the three aviators in a secure hangar at Andersen Air Force Base on the island of Guam.

Samson let a long, deep sigh of relief escape his lips. “Good to see you folks,” he said.

“It’s even better to be seeing you, sir,” Cheshire responded. “Believe me.”

“I believe you, Major,” Samson said with a wry smile. “I’m very sorry about Lieutenant Vikram. My condolences to all of you.”

He paused respectfully for a few moments, which gave him a chance to study the three on the videoconference monitor. They all looked exhausted, absolutely bone-tired… but Elliott looked worse. Samson knew that Elliott had been hit by pieces of windscreen and the windblast when the Chinese Sukhoi-33 fighters attacked; he could see a bit of evidence of injury, but lots of evidence of something else. Elliott looked whipped, almost ragged; his breathing appeared labored, his lips slightly parted as if he were forced to breathe through his mouth to get more air.

“What’s happening now, Earthmover?” Elliott said. That voice had the same cockiness in it — it sounded like the old Brad Elliott. He didn’t look so good, but the old fire and steel was still in his voice and definitely still in his mental attitude.

“We’re waiting for the Pentagon to jump in on the videoconference,” Samson said. “I’d like to ask a few questions before the CNO or JCS comes in.”

“No one is responsible for Emil’s death or for what happened on this mission but me, sir,” Patrick McLanahan said immediately. It was very obvious that Patrick, as well as the others on camera from Andersen Air Force Base on Guam, had come right from the plane to the videoconference after landing their crippled bomber. All were wearing wrinkled flight suits, and had dark smudges under their eyes; the men had ragged, unshaved faces. “I take full responsibility.”

“Stand by one, Patrick,” Samson interjected. “I didn’t think I’d need to remind you, since you’ve flown missions like this before, but the reality of the situation is that no one is responsible for what happened, because this incident never happened, do you understand? Lieutenant Vikram died in the course of his military duties — no other explanation is needed or will be offered. If it becomes necessary, the government will pick the most mundane, unexciting, plausible reason for Emil’s death, but it won’t be necessary, because everyone involved, from Vikram’s family to the President of the United States, is legally and morally bound to keep their mouths shut in the name of national security. If they don’t, they will find that the blame will fall on them.

“This is also a good time to remind you folks that you are volunteers in a completely black, highly classified government program,” Samson went on. “If you screw up, your identities will be erased from all public or government records; if anyone digs to find said records, they’ll find the dead themselves at fault. When you step on board that monster, you cease to exist, and any memories of you will be manipulated by the government that you sacrificed your life to serve. So it does no good to blame yourselves, because no one is going to accuse or indict you — they will either forget you or deny you. Everybody understand?”

No reply, not even nods, from the three aviators. They all knew that it was a screw job in the worst possible sense: they were going to risk their lives for their country, and the best they could ever hope for is that they would be completely forgotten by that same country, and that no one would ask any questions about their deaths because the reply would trash their reputations. “You also understand,” Samson went on grimly, “that you can excuse yourself from this project at any time, without prejudice or harm to your careers?” Again no response. “I take it that you all understand your rights and all the realities here. Talk to me later if you like.

“We are going to be joined on this teleconference in a few moments by a few other parties, but first I wanted to find out how you guys are doing. I know it’s hard on you because of the loss of Lieutenant Vikram. I’m very sorry. Please, speak up.” There was no response. Samson gave them a few more moments, then urged them, “You were just involved in a nuclear exchange. You went head-to-head with over fifty armed Chinese warships. You saw hundreds of sailors get killed and injured, some by your hand. Are you guys doing okay?”

“What do you want us to say, sir?” Nancy Cheshire finally spoke out. “We got Emitter killed, and we got our butts shot up. We stopped the PLAN, I think, but I don’t know if it was worth Emil getting killed. I have a feeling, when we hear from JCS and CINCPAC, that the answer to that will be ‘no.’ ”

“I’ll give you an answer, Earthmover — we were hung out to dry,” Brad Elliott said angrily. “We were strung out by you, by the Navy, by the White House. You sent us into a no-win situation where the only way we could make a difference, the only way we could use the power we had at our command to do some good, was to disobey orders.”

“Brad, c’mon,” McLanahan said wearily. “We’re not accusing anyone right now. We knew what we were doing.”

“Patrick’s right, Brad — you knew the game you were playing long before wheels-up in Blytheville, Arkansas,” Samson said. “You knew you were going to be given a short leash. You knew the brass didn’t support you. You knew the Navy didn^t want you. But you launched anyway. Once over the cover area, you could’ve just obeyed orders and watched Quemoy get incinerated — but you acted. We’re all going to pay for that decision.”

“We had to do what we did, sir,” Cheshire said. “We couldn’t just sit back and watch.”

“Guys, I think it was a good decision to defend the Taiwanese ships and attack those Chinese ships — Emil Vikram did not die in vain,” Samson said. “But I think we’re going to get hammered for making it. What’s done is done. I think the Chinese were going to use those nukes over Quemoy anyway, so everything that happened was bound to happen anyway. As far as what happens to you… well, we suck it up and move on. Hell, I might be submitting my application to Jon Masters before the day’s out.”

“Wear a nice suit, Earthmover,” Elliott said. “You’re gonna need it.”

“We’re not done here until I know that Lieutenant Vikram didn’t die for nothing,” McLanahan said. “Support or not, we’re not leaving the theater until we know the PLAN isn’t going to keep on lobbing nukes at Taiwan or anyone else. There’s still no other U.S. forces nearby that can oppose them — our five Megafortresses are the only heavy strike group that can take on that carrier battle group.”

“That decision will be made soon, Patrick,” Samson said. “I don’t think you’ll get what you want.”

“Stop thinking like a staff puke and start thinking like a warrior again, Earthmover,” Brad Elliott said. “You might learn something.”

“Hey, Brad, you might want to cool your jets a little bit before the brass gets on the bird,” Samson said. “An attitude like that won’t win you any friends right now. ”

“We expect you to argue our case for us, sir,” McLanahan said. “Keep us in the theater until the President decides what other forces he’s going to send in.”

“We’re still operational, sir,” Cheshire added. “Tell ’em to send us back in. We’ve proven we can do the job. If a war is going to start, if Quemoy is in danger of being invaded, Taiwan will still need our help.”

Samson shook his head, silently marveling at this group’s apparent cold-bloodedness. Young stupid heroes, he decided. Flying into combat was all part of a day’s work for them. Hell, McLanahan was probably the most levelheaded one of the group, and he was ready to take another Megafortress back and twist the Chinese dragon’s tail once again. “Your comments are noted, guys. Do what you need to do on the ground to get your damaged plane ready to fly, but CINCPAC wants patrols halted until they get the word from CINCPAC or the Joint Chiefs.”

“Oh, goodie,” Elliott said sarcastically. “Hmmm. I wonder what they’ll say?”

“They’ll ask, Brad, ‘Who authorized the launch of those Wolverine missiles?’ ” Samson replied hotly. “They’ll ask, ‘How did Taiwan know our secure UHF synchronizer codes?’ They’ll ask, ‘Was it was really necessary to launch attacks on almost a dozen Chinese warships when it — would’ve been easier and safer for you to do as you were ordered to do, do a one-eighty, and get the hell out?’

“You guys did a really great job out there,” Samson concluded, with a definite weariness in his voice. “You proved that the heavy bomber, properly loaded with the right high-tech weaponry, can do a variety of missions over vast distances with speed, precision, and stealthiness. But you all know the old maxim: one ‘oh shit’ will erase a hundred ‘attaboys.’ Sorry to say it, but I think you’re going to see the truth in that old saying in just a few moments.”

It stayed silent until an electronic tone warned the participants that new conferees were linking into the system: NOW ENTERING THE CONFERENCE, DR. CHI-YANG SHIH, SECRETARY GENERAL, NATIONAL SECURITY COUNCIL, OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT, TAIPEI, REPUBLIC OF CHINA. NOW ENTERING THE CONFERENCE, ARTHUR CHASTAIN, SECRETARY OF DEFENSE, WASHINGTON. CLASSIFICATION, TOP SECRET. ALL CONFEREES NOTE, VOICE AND DATA IS NOW TERMINATED; CHECK OPERATIONAL SECURITY, THEN ENTER YOUR SECURITY CODE TO CONTINUE. There was a slight pause as videoconference administrators double-checked security for their rooms and reentered their security codes; then the computer acknowledged, THANK YOU. FULL VIDEOCONFERENCE FEATURES ACTIVATED.

“General Samson, folks, Dr. Chi-yang Shih asked to join us for a few moments on this videoconference,” Secretary of Defense Chastain began. “Dr. Chi-yang, please go ahead.”

“Thank you, Secretary Chastain,” Chi-yang Shih said. Dr. Chi-yang was in his late fifties but looked considerably younger. He wore gold- rimmed round spectacles, making his round face appear even rounder, but his tailored suit gave him a definite air of authority. “General Elliott, Colonel McLanahan, Major Cheshire, it is indeed a pleasure to speak to all of you. On behalf of President Lee Teng-hui and my fellow citizens of the Republic of China, I wish to express my deepest heartfelt gratitude from my nation for your work, and our deepest sympathy for your loss of your fellow crew member. Your efforts resulted in saving hundreds of lives on Quemoy Tao. Because of you, the islands defenses are still viable. I promise you, the prayers of millions of my people, and especially the prayers of sixty thousand of your fellow soldiers on Quemoy Tao, will be with you and Lieutenant Vikram tonight and for all time.”

“Viable? How is that possible, sir?” McLanahan asked. “The explosion…?”

“Was at an altitude of approximately eight kilometers and at least fifteen kilometers south of the city of Shatou, thanks to you and your fellow airmen,” Chi-yang replied. “It appears that the missiles fired from your aircraft destroyed the Chinese M-ll missiles while in flight, resulting in a partial-yield nuclear explosion, around the order of five to six kilotons. Damage was limited to overpressure and did not include thermal or blast damage, and we feel radiation deaths and casualties will be minimal as well. Unfortunately, the crew of the Km Men was not as fortunate.”

“My God,” McLanahan muttered. All three airmen finally appeared to relax. They realized how very, very fortunate they and the people on Quemoy were.

“Communications have been disrupted in the area because of the blast, and there were some casualties, but there was only minor damage to the island’s defense systems,” Chi-yang went on. “In addition, our island garrisons are mostly underground, so our forces are safe. If the Communists attempt an invasion, they will still find a most formidable force opposing them.”

“With all due respect, sir, that carrier battle group is still dangerous,” Elliott said. “They sank two of your best warships, and they can still mount a deadly invasion force against Quemoy. ”

“Thanks to your brave efforts, it appears that the Communist fleet has stopped its northward progress and may even be withdrawing from the area,” Chi-yang replied. “It is true, Quemoy has been crippled, but the Communists will not test our resolve. It even appears that the carrier battle group is being recalled all the way to Hong Kong, and that the ground and rocket forces along the Formosa Strait have been stood down. A major catastrophe has been averted because of you, and I again wish to thank you most sincerely. ”

“Dr. Chi-yang, was the captain of the Km Men ordered to go out there and take on that carrier battle group all by itself?” McLanahan asked.

Chi-yang paused for a long moment, then sighed, lifted his shoulders, and responded, “Captain Sung’s orders were to make contact with the Communists’ battle group and warn them not to approach Quemoy Tao. We do not know why he opened fire on the battle group — and unfortunately, we may never know. He may have believed that the firepower provided by your aircraft could protect him. It matters little now, because we believe that it was the PLAN’s intention to attack with nuclear weapons in any case — in which case, Captain Sung and his crew will be hailed as national heroes for saving Quemoy Tao. As you will be.

“Before I terminate this conference, my friends, I must tell you,” Chi- yang went on, his voice choked by emotion now, “that my father was a deputy liaison to General Claire Lee Chennault and the American Volunteer Group, whom you call the Flying Tigers, during the Great War of Liberation with imperial Japan. He assisted many brave American Flying Tiger fighter pilots to survive and fight to keep the Burma Road open in our struggle against the Nipponese empire, before America entered the Great War of Liberation.

“I am struck by the similarities between that time, sixty years ago, and now. We Nationalists are no longer in control of the mainland, as before, but the aggressors are our own brothers, their minds tainted by the ugly stain of communism. But we and you, our American friends, are still comrades in arms now, just as we were then — even in secret, as it was then. General Samson, General Elliott, Colonel McLanahan, Major Cheshire, you and your fellow aviators are America’s new Flying Tigers, protecting the weak against the menace of imperialism and Communist dictatorship. I am proud to continue my father’s great mission. Thank you again, my young American friends. Call on me whenever you need assistance, and it shall be yours. I am your servant.” The connection from Taiwan terminated with the computerized voice announcing, NOW departing, DR. CHI-YANG SHIH, TAIPEI, REPUBLIC OF CHINA.

The videoconference screen was blank as Dr. Chi-yang departed; when security was restored in Washington, Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman Admiral George Balboa was on the hookup from the Pentagon, along with Admiral Frederick Cowen, the chief of naval operations. “Very, very touching,” Balboa began acidly. “You did it again, Brad, you old son of a bitch. You screw up in the worst possible way, ignore orders, start firing missiles all over the damn sky, and you precipitate a damned nuclear attack, and somehow you have world leaders kissing your boots and comparing you to the Flying Tigers. Incredible.”

“Kinda makes you want to slit your own wrists right now, doesn’t it, George?” Elliott said with his irritating little grin.

“You will shut your mouth right now, Elliott,” Balboa shouted angrily, pointing at the videoconference camera. “What the ROC government thinks of you right now doesn’t carry one ounce of water with me! You deliberately violated direct orders from me, the National Command Authority, and CINCPAC to hold fire and withdraw. You are more than just a menace, Elliott, you are a disgrace to any American who has ever worn a uniform.”

“General Elliott had nothing to do with what we did over there, Admiral Balboa,” McLanahan said. “I was the mission commander on that flight, I gave the orders to launch, and I’m responsible for the death of Emil Vikram.”

“Don’t forget the deaths of five hundred Taiwanese sailors, an estimated three hundred Taiwanese civilians on Quemoy, and dozens of deaths and injuries aboard the Chinese warships,” Balboa interjected. “You’re responsible for all of them! ” McLanahan’s shoulders sank, as if he had just been reminded of a painful event in his life. “You’re going to have to live with all that, Mr. McLanahan. Even though I can absolve myself by reminding myself that I never sanctioned this mission and never thought you should be involved, I too will have to live with the horror of all those lives lost.”

“Why don’t you just be a total asshole and completely wash your hands of the whole thing, George?” Elliott retorted. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

“What I would like even better is to shut you down, have those planes cut up into little pieces, and throw you in prison,” Balboa said. “There is a question of how the Taiwanese found out so much about this operation, and I have a feeling you were responsible for that. As for this operation, it looks as if the President wants to continue this foolhardy plan. If the loss of one of your airframes and Lieutenant Vikram poses a problem, Mr. McLanahan, I expect you to report promptly to Admiral Allen so we can make alternate arrangements.”

“A replacement crew and plane is being ferried from Blytheville as we speak,” McLanahan said. “It’ll arrive in about twenty hours. But we can maintain a normal schedule right now.”

“Then do it,” Balboa said. “But you are not authorized to speak with anyone else, especially foreign nationals, at any time. The only persons you are authorized to communicate with are units or command posts briefed to you prior to takeoff. Failure to comply with this order will subject you and your co-workers to the most severe penalties allowable. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” McLanahan said. Elliott shook his head and rolled his eyes at his partner acceding to Balboa’s lame threat so passively, but McLanahan ignored him. “Sir, I need permission to contact Lieutenant Vikram’s family. ”

“Denied,” Balboa said. “My staff will decide how to handle notification. You worry about your patrol missions and keeping out of trouble. Dismissed.” The videoconference link was abruptly terminated.

“What a butthead,” Elliott fumed. He got up and found himself a cup of coffee. “I’ll bet he wanted so badly to shit-can us that he probably considered ignoring the President’s orders. That asshole, blaming you for all those deaths. Ignore all that, Muck. The PLAN’s at fault for attacking the ROC and for killing Emitter, not you.”

McLanahan got up. His muscles were aching, a by-product of long hours in the Megafortress’s cockpit, nearly an hour of sheer terror while under attack by the People’s Republic of China’s People’s Liberation Army Navy, a dead crew member, two hours of nursing a crippled bomber back home to an emergency landing in marginal weather — and then, after all that, a tongue-lashing by the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. All in all, a pretty shitty twelve hours. He wasn’t ready to hear Round Two from Brad Elliott. “Let’s give it a rest now, Brad, all right?” McLanahan asked. “We’ve got a lot to do — get repairs going on our damaged bird, get the patrols back in the air.” He wanted to call Emil’s family, whom he had met several times, but decided against it.

“The first thing I’m going to do is make a few phone calls back to Washington,” Elliott said resolutely. “I’ve got plenty of markers to call in. Balboa doesn’t have the authority to cancel our contract. If we put a little pressure on him, he’ll be forced to back off. We should—”

“Do nothing,” McLanahan said angrily. “Nothing. No phone calls, no markers. Just back off, okay?”

“What in hell’s the matter with you?” Elliott asked. “You can’t let jerks like Balboa run our lives. He’s the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, not commander in chief or the damned emperor. ”

“Brad, he’s running this operation.”

“Balboa and Allen are pissed because we launched a couple Rainbows and Wolverines and protected that frigate,” Elliott went on. “They would’ve done the same if they were flying that mission, but because we did it, they’re mad. I’ll tell you the truth, son — if it was their plane, or if they had a ship of their own in position, theyd’ve blasted that carrier and destroyer and as many of the other ships back there to hell in the blink of an eye! You know it, and I know it.”

“I hear you, Brad, and I agree one hundred percent,” McLanahan said. “But they are calling the shots, not us. That’s the difference. We weren’t given the go-ahead to make our own attack decisions. It may be hurt pride, or embarrassment, or professional jealously, whatever — it doesn’t matter. They say ‘jump,’ we ask ‘how high?’ ”

“What about Sung? What about those Taiwanese sailors? They died right before our eyes, waiting for our help.”

“Brad, if that had been an American ship down there, I’d have stayed until all our weapons were exhausted, and then I would’ve helped the other Megafortresses roll in on target, and then I’d go back and reload and come back out again,” McLanahan said. “But it wasn’t one of ours.”

“So you don't care what happens to them?” Elliott asked incredulously. “Man, this doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“What I care about is how this weapon system integrates with our other military forces,” McLanahan said, “not how we can kick ass and sink ships all over the Pacific. We’re not mercenaries, and we’re not avenging angels.”

“What is this? I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” Elliott shouted, shaking his head. “Did you think you had a chance of ‘integrating’ the Megafortresses with any project coming out of the Pentagon? Did you really think Balboa was going to embrace you and the Megafortresses, whether or not you did as you were ordered to do?”

McLanahan was silent — he knew Brad Elliott was right. The Megafortresses got to fly over the Formosa Strait only because he and Terrill Samson had earned the Presdent’s attention and respect as a result of the secret Iran bombing missions. Patrick had deluded himself into believing that he could reintegrate the modified B-52s into the American aerial strike force — but that was not going to happen. The current Pentagon brain trust did not care for large land-based bombers. They weren’t going to pay any money to keep any around, no matter how high-tech they were. The Quemoy mission was dead right from the start. Emil Vikram may indeed have died for nothing.

“Screw it, Brad, just screw it,” McLanahan said irritably. “I’m tired of your military services bigotry, I’m tired of the political games, and I’m tired of risking my neck for nothing. Just shut up and—”

“Whoa, whoa, listen to yourself, Muck,” Elliott said. “You sound like a quitter, like a spoiled brat who just wants to take back his bat and ball and go home. What is with you? This doesn’t have anything to do with Wendy being pregnant, does it? You’re not trying to keep us out of harm’s way because you got one in the oven, are you?”

“Wendy’s pregnant?” Cheshire exclaimed. “Is it true? You didn’t tell us this, Muck!”

“Tell ’em, Muck,” Elliott said, that cocksure grin on his face again. He guessed, McLanahan knew, and he was smug and happy that he guessed right.

“Yes, it’s true,” McLanahan said. “We didn’t say anything because we’re only going on our third month.” McLanahan jammed a finger in Elliott’s face. “General, it has nothing to do with Wendy — it has to do with you, ” he shot back angrily.

“What about me? I’m doing my job, the job I was hired to do!”

“Hired by whom? Jon Masters, the U.S. government — or the Taiwanese government?” McLanahan asked.

“What in hell are you talking about?” Elliott retorted, perhaps a little too vehemently.

“I’m wondering how that Captain Sung synchronized onto our comm channel during our surveillance,” McLanahan said hotly. “The chances of him finding our initial frequency, channel-hopping along with us, then calling in the blind and reaching us at the exact moment we were in the area — I’d say that was a thousand-to-one shot.”

“A kid with a Radio Shack scanner and some brains can do it,” Elliott said. “You know that.”

“So how did he know we were flying a bomber?”

“He must’ve guessed,” Elliott said. “That Taiwanese ambassador saw us in the White House; he knows we’re bomber guys, and he passed the info along to his navy. Hell, stealth bombers have been in the news for months now.”

“So I suppose you guessed the captain’s name, then?”

“What?”

“You mentioned the captain’s name, Sung, even before he called us on the secure channel,” McLanahan said. “You also admonished Sung for launching the attack when he did. You didn’t bother getting an authentication — even though you got one from Samson, talking to him over an even more secure satellite freq — because you knew Sung couldn't authenticate. And you were quick to blame the Navy for lousy communications security, when it was you all along.”

“You’re nuts, Mack.”

“Nuts, huh? Why don’t I call back to Blytheville and get Wendy to pull the phone records from the day before our launch?” McLanahan asked angrily. “We can get the caller’s name and number for any call in or out of headquarters, and Security might even be able to get a transcript. You must’ve been in contact with someone right before launch — we can find out who it was.”

Elliott was about to protest again, but he looked at McLanahan’s stone-angry face and cracked a smile. “Jesus, I can’t believe I guessed right: you are going to have a baby,” the old ex-three-star general said. “I think of you as a son, Patrick. I feel like I’m going to be a granddad.”

“Stick to the point here, ‘grandpa.’ ”

“All right, all right — yes, I was in contact with the Taiwanese — with Kuo, the new ambassador to the U.S. that we ran into in the West Wing,” Elliott said resignedly. “He called me, and that’s the goddamn truth. He knew, or guessed, everything we were about to do. He told me about Taiwan’s plans to block the Chinese fleet. He told me about the intelligence they received about China putting nuclear warheads on its land attack and anti-ship missiles. And then he asked for my help. What in hell was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to hang up and report the foreign contact to the security department at Sky Masters, Inc.,” McLanahan said, “and sure as hell, you weren’t supposed to confirm any information or reveal any information to him, like the synchronizer codes! Jesus, Brad, if Balboa ever finds out — no, I should say, when Balboa finds out! — he’s going to throw all of us in prison for twenty years! It’s a clear violation.”

“Balboa’s too stupid to find out, and besides, I think the ROCs will cover their trail and explain away the rest,” Elliott said confidently. “Don’t worry about it.”

It was no use arguing with Elliott over this, McLanahan decided — as usual, he felt he was invincible, not just above the law but somehow blessed by God and given full authority to stretch the law and the truth with impunity. He continued to study his friend and mentor, watching him sip coffee; then: “You okay, Brad?”

Elliott seemed startled, then annoyed, that anyone was watching him. He scowled over the rim of his coffee mug. “I’m fine, Mack. Why?”

“How’s the chest pains?”

“Chest pains? What chest pains?”

“You complained of chest pains on the plane.”

“I just got blasted half out of my seat by an imploding one-hundred-pound sheet of Lexan,” Elliott responded. “You’d be in pain too.”

“Nothing else? Shortness of breath, numbness in the arms, blurred vision, feelings like indigestion, headaches?”

“Hey, Dr. Pat, I did not, nor am I now, having a heart attack or stroke,” Elliott retorted. “Sure, I got rattled when that windscreen blew out in my face. Yeah, I could use about twenty-four hours of sleep — in fact, that’s where I’m headed right now. You want to waste time hooking me up to monitors and making me walk a treadmill, go ahead — I challenge you to keep up with me! In the meantime, Balboa will be chopping up your planes right there in the hangar and trying like hell to toss our company into the crapper. You make the decision, mission commander. I’m going to hit the rack. ”

On his way out, Elliott bumped into none other than Wendy McLanahan. Without one bit of surprise at her being on Guam, he gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Congratulations, gorgeous,” he said simply, then walked away toward the exit.

“Brad? Hey, General, how about…?” But he was off, leaving Wendy confused.

“Wendy!” Patrick exclaimed, taking his wife into his arms. They kissed tenderly, enjoying a long, warm embrace. “What on earth are you doing here?” he asked, still in her embrace.

“Jon needed help, and I volunteered,” she said. “I was en route when I found out about the mission, about Emil. I’m so sorry, Patrick.”

“Thanks, sweetie, but I’m worried about you, about the baby.”

“I’m working on the computer and the phone, nothing else,” Wendy said. “I flew first-class commercial on United and Cathay Pacific, not on the NIRTSat booster launch plane or the tankers. I’ll be fine.” Wendy accepted a hug and another round of congratulations, first from Nancy Cheshire, then from a few of the other crew members and specialists in the hangar. “It looks like the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Brad guessed,” Patrick said. “Of course, he threw it in my face.” “He did what?”

“I’ll explain everything, sweetie,” McLanahan said, “but it’s not a fun story.”

“CINCPAC, are you still up?” Admiral Balboa called.

“CINCPAC’s up, along with General Samson,” Admiral William Allen responded. The videoconference between Hawaii and the Pentagon was still active.

“I’ve got orders for you too, General,” Balboa said. “Apparently the President still thinks highly of your judgment. You will report immediately to Admiral Henry Danforth at STRATCOM to stand up CTF Three. ”

“Yes, sir,” Samson responded. He wasn’t stunned at the news that STRATCOM was standing up, or forming, the CTFs, considering all that had just happened in the Formosa Strait — he was stunned at being chosen to command one of them, after the day’s debacle.

STRATCOM, or U.S. Strategic Command, was a combination of the old Air Force Strategic Air Command, the Navy’s Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine Force, and the Air Force-Navy Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff. Based at Offutt Air Force Base near Omaha, Nebraska, the command of STRATCOM changed periodically between Air Force generals and Navy admirals; now, it so happened (not so coincidentally, with a Navy admiral taking charge of the Joint Chiefs of Staff) the organization was commanded by a Navy four-star admiral, Henry Danforth. USSTRATCOM had an unusual makeup. In peacetime, STRATCOM played “war games” and drew up contingency plans for major conflicts with other nations — conflicts usually involving nuclear weapons. It had no aircraft, no ships, no weapons, no troops other than its small group of planners, and no bases.

But in times of military crisis or war, STRATCOM transformed into the world’s most powerful fighting force. STRATCOM could quickly “gain” all the aircraft, submarines, bases, and soldiers it required from the various U.S. armed services to fight a full spectrum of conflicts, from show of force and nuclear deterrence alert to a full-blown intercontinental thermonuclear war. STRATCOM geared up its warfighting capabilities in stages by forming Combined Task Forces, or CTFs, representing the three legs of the United States’ nuclear triad — submarine-launched ballistic missiles, land-based intercontinental missiles, and long-range land- based bombers, plus their major support services. STRATCOM would “gain” land-based intercontinental ballistic missile forces from Air Force Space Command, sea-launch ballistic missile forces from the Navy’s COMSUBFLT, bombers from Air Force Air Combat Command, and aerial refueling tanker planes from Air Force Air Mobility Command. Samson, as commander of all the Air Force’s intercontinental heavy bombers and the highest-ranking expert on long-range bombers, was being given command of CTF Three, the strategic nuclear bomber leg of the triad.

“Admiral Allen, you will retain direct command of the EB-52 bombers on Guam,” Balboa went on. “They’ve caused enough trouble, but the National Command Authority still wants them over the Strait for now. I’m going to snatch Ken Wayne for CTF One.” CTF One was the task force in charge of the submarine-launched intercontinental ballistic missiles; Vice Admiral Kenneth E. Wayne was COMBALSUBFLT, the man in charge of the Navy’s ballistic missile submarine fleet.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Allen responded.

“Is STRATCOM gaining any weapon systems, sir?” Samson asked.

“None have been requested,” Balboa replied. “The President wants the CTFs together just in case the shit hits the fan. But I think he’s overreacting — I think Martindale got a little scared with those nukes going off. Taking an unexpected no-shit, this-is-not-a-drill ride in the E-4 NEACP ‘Doomsday Plane’ probably put the fear of God into him too.” Samson saw Allen chuckle, and he felt like hitting him in the mouth. There was nothing funny about it — there was plenty of reason for the President of the United States to be scared when something as horrifying as a nuclear explosion occured.

“But nothing will happen,” Balboa went on confidently. “It’ll be a good exercise for STRATCOM, and then we’ll all go home.”