Shattered Trident

17. EXECUTION

8 September 2016

0800 Local Time

August 1st Building, Ministry of National Defense Compound

Beijing, People’s Republic of China

Chen had agreed to let General Hu present his plan, not because he intended to approve it, but because he was frankly curious. The Second Artillery Corps controlled China’s nuclear ballistic missiles, but it also had an impressive arsenal of conventional weapons. They were already being used against Vietnam with some effect, but Hu wanted a much broader strike against the entire alliance, one with political, as well as military effects.

“The alliance nations have made it easy for us to avoid killing Americans,” Hu argued. “They’ve evacuated the bases they operate jointly with the United States. The only exception is Clark Field in the Philippines, but the CJ-10 cruise missile is accurate enough to attack only areas where the Japanese units are located.”

Hu brought up the last slide. It was a summary, showing arrows reaching out from China toward South Korea, Japan, and the Philippines. Only India was spared, to avoid any possible nuclear misunderstandings.

“We will strike ten targets in three countries, a mix of military and economic targets related to their own energy infrastructure. The plan uses ninety-four missiles, approximately one-fifth of our conventional long-range inventory. It does not call on our standing forces near Taiwan, and does not affect our campaign in Vietnam. With this heavy blow, we will bring the war to the citizens of the Littoral Alliance.” Hu sat down with a pleased expression.

General Shi Peng did not look pleased at all. At Chen’s request, he’d listened to Hu’s plan, but the instant the missile commander was finished, Shi quickly spoke up. “I know you’re eager to bring your forces into the struggle, General, but this ‘heavy blow’ is also an open challenge to the United States. We already have U.S. military units deploying to the Philippines, where before there were almost none, and they’re reinforcing their troops in South Korea.”

Shi turned to General Xi. “Have your intelligence people considered whether the Americans are using these deployments to mask a surprise intervention on the side of the alliance? If they decided to join—”

“They won’t,” Chen interrupted.

“You all read the ambassador’s report,” Shi argued. “I’m alarmed with the level of detail the Americans possessed.”

“I’ll send them my copy of the plan,” Vice Chairman Zhang replied acidly. “It’s old news now. We went over all this when we first received Yang’s report. Even perfect knowledge of the enemy is not enough. One must have the desire to act. They don’t.” Others, including Chen, nodded agreement.

“But you will still not approve my plan,” Hu predicted.

“No,” Chen answered. “A deliberate attack like this might—no, likely would provoke the Americans into action. I understand their reluctance to fight, and I share it. A war between our countries would be a calamity, even if we won. It’s bad enough we have to deal with India, but they only have a limited nuclear strike capability; they’d destroy a few of our cities while we would annihilate their entire country. A nuclear exchange with the U.S. would be profoundly different…” Chen shuddered.

General Su, chief of the General Staff added, “President Chen and I have had many discussions about the Americans. They will not join this war, which leaves us no excuse for not winning. We are developing plans to punish Indonesia for joining the alliance, which will also serve to deter Malaysia and Singapore from making a similar foolish decision. They are not under American protection, and indeed have no military alliances to speak of. General Xi is working with Pakistan to increase pressure on India, and do not forget that phase one of Trident is nearly complete, in spite of our setback at Spratly Island.”

“All we need to do is endure for a little longer,” Chen insisted.

8 September 2016

Littoral Alliance Headquarters

Okutama, Nishitama District

Tokyo, Japan

The television kept distracting him. Like so many others, he simply left it on a news channel all the time. Even with access to the intelligence resources of the alliance, he was afraid of missing something. Things were happening too quickly.

The sound was off, but a map of Russia showed army units moving toward the Chinese border, but so far all the analysts agreed it was precautionary. NATO was arguing about its role, too. The war had nothing to do with European security, but was deeply and adversely affecting Europe’s economy. When did an economic threat require a military solution?

Perhaps his next book would be about the interrelated nature of the world economy. No, that was too obvious. Of course they were interrelated. It took at least two countries to engage in any sort of trade, and there were trade groups, and don’t even get him started about the Common Market…

No, Komamura realized, it wasn’t that one country’s fortunes affected others’, it was the speed at which the shockwaves from the Pacific War were traveling. That was what his next book had to describe: as countries developed and grew, trade and economic ties also grew more numerous and more diverse. And just as sound travels faster in a denser medium, economic shocks were felt more quickly in highly integrated economies.

The war had already provided plenty of data. World energy prices were whipsawing. China, desperate to replace her trade losses with other sources, was paying almost any price for whatever it could obtain, either domestically or from its neighbors. On the other hand, without Chinese purchases, oversupply had caused world oil prices to crash. Speculators were making billions short-selling oil futures.

It was also a bonanza for China’s trade rivals. With Chinese-made exports evaporating, competitors were scrambling to ramp up production. Except that many items were built with Chinese-made components that were now unavailable.

Companies in the United States and Europe especially had been cut off from their biggest customer. Domestic consumption couldn’t take up the slack, and layoffs were now endemic. Eventually, if the imbalance lasted long enough, demand from the expanding industries would absorb many of those laid off elsewhere, but in the meantime, the headlines shouted about record unemployment and shortages.

And there were problems that couldn’t be solved. Chinese rare earth materials were vital to high-tech manufacturing around the world, and there simply were not that many other sources. Komamura had read about ventures springing up, exploring for new deposits or going after what had been marginal sources, but those would take months or longer to come on line. In the meantime, industries requiring those resources would be depressed, and the loss of efficiency—

A knock on the doorframe pulled him away from his calculations. Miyazaki Nodoka, one of his doctoral students, caught his attention and bowed slightly, brushing away the hair that hid her face. She was a brilliant student with a precise mind, but not a shred of fashion sense.

Miyazaki spoke Russian and Chinese, as well as Japanese. Komamura regretted his own lack of language skills, and relied on graduate students to bridge that gap for him.

“Here’s what I’ve been able to find on Russian oil sales to China,” she reported. “It’s all black market, and the Russian authorities appear to be severely punishing anyone they can catch who is involved. Sales are still growing, though, because the profits are so high, especially for refined products. A lot of the cases involve tanker trucks ‘getting lost’ between the refinery and their destination.”

She handed him the analysis. “It’s not going to help the Chinese economy. It’s too little, and too unstable,” she added. “I believe Beijing may not even know about most of it. The local officials along the border are looking for their own sources of supply, or starting private stockpiles.”

“Which implies…” Komamura prompted.

“Shortages. Lack of confidence in the national government,” she reasoned. “Local corruption, although that’s no surprise.”

“And if it’s affecting the border regions, what about provinces with oil refineries?” the professor asked.

“Local officials in those provinces may be diverting part of the output into private stockpiles, further reducing national supplies.” She brightened. “My next research project?”

He nodded, smiling approvingly. “Look at energy distribution inefficiencies as a measure of government control. The oil fields are all clustered in the north and far northwest. I expect you’ll find the worst shortages in the south. You’ll need to see what the alliance intercept people have been able to pick up. Has Captain Madarame approved your security clearance yet?”

She bowed. “Yes, sensei, and thank you for your endorsement. I’m sure it made all the difference.”

“Nonsense, you’re more than trustworthy.”

She bowed and left, almost at a run. There was urgency, of course, but also the excitement of a new task and his encouragement. This was what he loved, exploring the mysteries of human commerce and teaching those skills to his students.

No, he decided. Once this was over, if he lasted, he’d stick to what he loved most. No more books.

7 September 2016

2000 Local Time

Harry S. Truman Building, State Department

Washington, D.C.

President Myles was waiting with Secretary of State Lloyd, which evidently surprised the Japanese ambassador. Myles explained, “I’m sorry to have asked you here instead of the Oval Office, but a ‘consultation’ with the secretary of state will attract less media attention.”

Ambassador Urahara’s handshake was firm, but his face was a mask. He might have been reading a street sign for all the meaning in his expression. “I’ve come in response to your summons, Mr. President. I assume you wish to discuss some aspect of the present crisis.”

Lloyd motioned them to a group of high-backed chairs. His staff had wasted almost half an hour arranging the three of them so the two Americans weren’t crowding the ambassador, but didn’t seem far away, or ganged up two-to-one, which is why Lloyd winced when Myles moved his chair closer to Urahara before sitting down.

Myles spoke carefully. “Mr. Ambassador, since Japan is now a declared member of the Littoral Alliance, can you carry our message back to the other alliance members as well as Japan?”

Urahara paused for a moment before responding. “I have no authority to speak for the alliance, but I can certainly share our discussions with the other members, if that is your wish. Indeed, I would not do so without your express permission.”

“Unless you know of someone who can speak for the entire alliance, Mr. Ambassador, I do not believe I’ll find a better messenger,” Myles replied with a smile.

“I’m sure that with time, the alliance will choose an individual to fill that role. The current crisis came upon our countries too suddenly, before we had time to properly establish the machinery of the organization.”

During this exchange, the ambassador’s expression had not changed. “Our foreign policies, at least in the matter of our relations with China, are in complete unity.”

Myles read that message clearly. Don’t even try “divide and conquer.” But that hadn’t been his intention.

“We’d rather discuss Japan’s long-standing and excellent relations with the United States,” Lloyd replied. “I must reluctantly and officially inform you of our displeasure regarding Japan’s participation in an armed conflict with another nation without consultation with the United States, as required by our long-standing mutual security agreement.”

Urahara’s reply was as carefully phrased as Lloyd’s statement. “Japan understands that our actions have violated the letter of the treaty, and regrets the necessity, but circumstances compelled our decision. Consultation with America was carefully considered by Japan, and the other alliance governments, but in the interests of security, we decided that it was not possible. It was also not necessary, since at that time we did not require, or desire, U.S. assistance in this matter.”

That was the opening Lloyd had been waiting for. “Yet the United States is providing valuable assistance to Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines. Our formal military treaties are shielding your countries from direct Chinese attack. At the same time, if the Chinese do attack your territory, under the terms of those treaties, we are obligated to join you in a war we did not choose, and which would have the gravest consequences for all of us.”

“If the United States does not wish to become involved in this war, why are your submarines interfering with attacks by alliance vessels? Protecting the Chinese will not earn you their gratitude. Some in the alliance… excuse me, some in Japan believe you have chosen sides.” Urahara’s expression changed just a little, and Myles saw anger beneath the mask.

Myles answered, “My orders were to frustrate all attacks, whether by Chinese or alliance vessels, with the goal of reducing the loss of life on both sides, in the hope that a diplomatic solution could be found.”

“As much as you wish it to be even-handed, your submarines are not powerful enough to stop Chinese air or ballistic missile attacks. They also prevent us from hurting Chinese naval surface forces and stopping their campaign of conquest. And since the alliance has the advantage at sea, your actions help the Chinese more than us. The last two tankers to reach Chinese ports did so because attacks on them were disrupted by American submarines.”

Urahara paused for a moment, before stating flatly, “I have been told that at the moment, Japanese submarines are under strict orders to avoid firing at any vessels other than Chinese. Other alliance countries have given similar directions. American interference in the war also increases the risks to our submarines and their crews, and prolongs the war. That is unforgivable.”

When Urahara used the word “unforgivable,” Myles understood that in the Japanese language the word meant not just “offensive,” but “is not permitted.” In other words, the United States had crossed the line. There could be no recompense.

The ambassador continued, “In discussions with other alliance members, the Japanese Foreign Ministry has observed the very prevalent opinion that the United States is attempting to preserve the status quo, that is, a Pacific dominated by American military power. Japan recognizes that for decades, she has grown and flourished under such an arrangement. But would your country have stood against Chinese ambitions in the South China Sea?”

“Because Japan and America’s other allies did not consult with us first,” Myles answered sharply, “that specific question can never be answered.”

“You would have pressured us to wait, to give diplomacy a chance, to confront China with what we had learned. It was too late for that. There was no time.”

“So, Japan believed that the U.S. would not stand with her,” Myles stated flatly.

“Risk open war with another nuclear power when your vital interests were not threatened? Over ‘disputed territories’?” Urahara almost spat the words out.

“If U.S. security is so worthless, then withdraw from the treaties. Relieve us of our obligation.”

“Join us,” Urahara countered. “China is reeling now. The alliance is winning. If the United States openly sides with us, the political shock alone may be enough to convince the PRC to cease hostilities. Your military power, although less than in the past, would help end the war swiftly.”

“I agree that China is near the edge, but that makes this the most dangerous time.” Myles was harsh. “You were willing to predict America’s behavior before the war started. Can you correctly guess how Chen Dao and the Politburo will act facing the abyss of defeat and economic ruin? They’re losing much more than just ‘face.’ Besides, I don’t think Dr. Komamura would approve of our involvement.”

Urahara’s eyes narrowed perceptively. Myles had struck a nerve. Still, the irritation passed quickly and the ambassador continued. “The Littoral Alliance wants a short war. That limits the suffering, and maximizing the violence has the best chance of delivering the sharp blow that will convince Chen and the others to abandon their expansionist plans. The United States, with its strange ‘neutrality,’ is prolonging the conflict and frustrating our aims. If you want to end the war quickly, help us. If not, at least stay out of our way.”

Myles’s voice hardened. “Mr. Ambassador, you’ve read the American newspapers, seen the debates in Congress. There is a growing movement in this country that wants the U.S. to simply withdraw from all mutual security treaties with Japan, South Korea, and now the Philippines—declare them null and void. That would remove the risk of a war between two superpowers, but it would also be a signal to China that it could do as it pleases. Can the Littoral Alliance really prevail against the unrestrained power of China’s armed forces? The damage and loss of life in Japan alone could—”

“Now you threaten us!” Urahara almost shouted. “Japan and her allies have acted to protect ourselves against Chinese aggression, and instead of supporting us, as America so often promised, you have done everything possible to frustrate our victory.”

“I’m trying to find a way to end this war on terms fair to both sides. You know we’ve demanded that China evacuate all the islands she’s seized. She won’t do that unless the alliance also agrees to a cease-fire. You’ve inflicted massive damage on the Chinese economy. She’s seen your power. Present your demands over a conference table.”

The Japanese ambassador paused for a moment, then replied carefully, “I will convey your entire message back to my country, as well as our allies.” He relaxed a little, and continued, “If I may be allowed a personal observation, China abandoned the conference table when she committed to her surprise assault. I do not believe her leaders will accept another course until they have been forcefully shown that their aggression incurs a painful consequence. They must be humiliated, shocked—only then will they change their path. And she is not yet at that point.”

Urahara stood and bowed deeply, then left.

7 September 2016

2345 Local Time

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Lowell Hardy sipped at his glass of port. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do now was decompress. Catching up on the news, he moved the cursor to his bookmarks folder and pulled down to the Bywater’s Blog entry. Once the Web site opened up, he clicked on the sub-blog covering the war and started reading the newest updates. As usual, he’d completely lost track of time, as he didn’t realize it was well after midnight until the lock on the front door clicked.

Stumbling through the door, Joanna stopped just long enough to dump her purse and valise on the floor and kick off her shoes. She looked exhausted. Hardy got up, walked over quickly, and gave her a big hug. She almost collapsed in his arms, but returned the embrace along with a kiss.

“Tough day at the office, dear?” joked Hardy.

“Don’t even go there,” Joanna whined.

“Sorry. Have you had any dinner?”

“No. Didn’t have time,” she replied wearily.

“Right! You come sit down while I find something edible in the fridge.” Hardy escorted her over to the easy chair by the computer hutch. “I think the leftover spaghetti is still mold-free.”

“I’ll eat anything you put in front of me. Just as long as I don’t have to make it.”

Hardy laughed and made his way to the kitchen. As he started rustling about, he called back to her. “If you’ve got any mental energy left, you might want to look at that blog that’s up on the screen.”

“Do I have to?” whimpered Joanna.

“No, of course not,” Hardy said as he returned with a glass of port.

“Oh, bless you, my love!” cried Joanna as she graciously accepted the drink. After a sip, she gestured toward the screen. “What’s this blog about?”

“It covers the war, of course, and does a right fine job of it.”

“Lowell, dear, I read enough about this damn war at work. Why would I want to look at something here at home?”

Hardy leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Trust me, you won’t get articles like this at work.”

As her husband went back to the kitchen, Joanna struggled out of the easy chair and shuffled to the computer hutch. Plopping her bottom into the chair, she began reading. Almost immediately, a confused frown appeared on her face.

“Lowell, who is this Bywater guy?”

Beeping sounds came from the kitchen as Hardy started the microwave. “Say again?” he called out.

“Who is this Bywater guy?”

“Oh, yeah, I had to look that up too.” Hardy chuckled. “The blog is named after Hector C. Bywater, an early twentieth-century reporter in England. Part spy, part naval correspondent, and part best-selling author, Bywater had an extensive network of contacts, worldwide, that fed him information for his articles. Apparently, he really knew his stuff, and had a knack for communicating complex naval issues to laymen and politicians alike.

“The Web administrator of the blog is a Canadian, up in Halifax, and he’s just as well connected. He’s done some interviews for CNN, and for a talking head, he’s pretty damn good. I’ve been following his blog now for the last few days and he has information I don’t get in my intel briefs. His last entry will be of particular interest to you, given your passions, my dear.”

Intrigued, Joanna took a sip and scrolled down to the most recent article. The title grabbed her attention immediately.

Joanna finished reading just as Hardy brought out a tray with her food. Looking up at her husband, there were tears in her eyes. “My God, Lowell, I hadn’t even stopped to think about the oil slicks! How could I have missed that?”

“Gives a whole new definition to the term collateral damage now, doesn’t it?”

“We’ve got to do something!” she cried.

“Yes, we do. And the first step is to stop the fighting.”