The Gotland Deception

Chapter Sixteen: The Matrix of Survival

President Ma Ching-te stood at the window, watching the mountain mist cling to ancient pines like ghosts refusing to let go. There was something calming about how the foggy mist drifted across the volcanic peaks, obscuring the four armored SUVs as they wound up the narrow access road to his private weekend retreat. It was that time of year when the spring rains were a daily affair, leaving everything gleaming.

Waiting behind President Ma Ching-te in silence were four of Taiwan’s most powerful defenders, summoned personally to attend this secretive meeting — a meeting that would decide the fate of their nation. Chief among them was Defense Minister Theresa Kao, a former flight pilot. As usual, she sat ramrod straight, waiting for their guests to arrive and the meeting to begin. Sitting next to her was his NSB Director Chao Ming-hsien, the head of his intelligence agency, scrolling through encrypted feeds on a hardened tablet, occasionally muttering darkly about mainland SIGINT reports. The PRC’s Ministry of State Security had been causing all sorts of problems for them on the islands of Kinmen and Matsu; the noose of the mainland constantly tightened around them. Standing hunched over, Admiral Han Ji-cheng, his naval chief, was studying nautical charts spread across the lacquered table while they waited, making pencil marks with surgical precision. Last but by no means least was Lieutenant General Wu Jian-tai, Commandant of the ROC Marine Corps. He stood near the wall-mounted display, his arms crossed, studying coastal defense overlays with the intensity of a man who’d spent his life preparing to repel the PRC’s version of D-Day, the eventual invasion of Taiwan.

“They’re almost here. They’re through the final checkpoint,” Chao announced without looking up. “ETA two minutes.”

President Ma turned from the window. The weight of twenty-one million lives pressed against his shoulders, a familiar burden that had aged him a decade in five years. “So, what are your opinions on the men we’re about to meet?”

“Solid. They’ve delivered on their promises so far,” Kao said evenly. “One hundred and twenty contractors embedded with our forces for the past eighteen months. The training quality offered has far exceeded our expectations.”

“True, but training isn’t fighting,” Admiral Han countered, not unkindly. “When missiles fly, mercenaries sometimes remember their bank accounts.”

Lieutenant General Wu’s jaw tightened. “These aren’t Wagner types, Admiral. These are vetted, highly trained operators. Many of them have decades of experience in the Middle East, Europe, and Africa. They also have personal stakes in seeing the mainland defeated.”

“Perhaps, but personal stakes don’t stop waves of hypersonic missiles and drones, do they?” Han replied coldly.

A knock interrupted their discussion. Ma’s security chief entered and nodded once. The Americans had arrived.

Marcus Harrington entered first — he was tall, six feet four inches. His weathered face moved with the controlled economy of a man who’d spent decades in hostile territory. Behind him came someone new. Ma noted his compact build. He was maybe five-ten, with the kind of dense muscle that came from swimming rather than weightlifting. The second man had a salt-and-pepper beard, trimmed tight. His eyes tracked every corner, every shadow, he looked like he knew how to wage violence if directed.

“Mr. President,” Harrington said, offering a crisp handshake. “Good to see you again. Thank you for making time for us. May I introduce Commander Ryan Mitchell, USN retired. He’s TSG’s new country manager for our growing Taiwan operations.”

Mitchell stepped forward, grip firm but not trying to prove anything. “Sir. Honor to meet you. Honor to be part of this mission.”

Ma smiled, noting the Bostonian accent — a reminder of his own Harvard days. “Commander Mitchell, the honor is mine. Your reputation precedes you.”

“All bad, I hope,” Mitchell deadpanned, then seemed to catch himself. “Sorry, sir. Nervous habit.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Ma’s face. Americans and their compulsive humor. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

They arranged themselves around the table — Taiwan’s leadership on one side, the Americans on the other. It was just like negotiating a business deal, Ma thought, except the commodity was survival, and they came offering the means to ensure it.

Harrington slid a sealed portfolio across the polished wood. “Mr. President, I was instructed by National Security Advisor Jim Batista to share this with you and your team. It’s Presidential Finding 32–33, signed seventy-two days ago. It explains the surge in deliverables and activity of the past few weeks. Jim felt it was important you see this, and to leave no doubt in your mind about President Ashford’s commitment to Taiwan’s defense.”

Ma broke the seal and scanned the document. His English was flawless. Years of study at Georgetown had seen to that, but Harvard had taught him to read slowly, absorbing the details people often missed. “Am I reading this correctly? You are increasing your numbers from one hundred and twenty to six hundred contractors by the end of April. And you’ll have full autonomous weapons release authority. Expedited technology transfer.” He looked up in shock. “Jim was right, your president is serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Mitchell interjected. “Nobody wants this going kinetic. But like Morpheus once said — ‘Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is.’ We’re about to show you.”

The reference hung in the air. Harrington shot Mitchell a look that said maybe dial back the movie quotes.

Ma passed the document to Kao, who began reading with professional intensity. “Wow. The funding is substantial. Four-point-eight billion. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s great. But money doesn’t sink landing craft or shoot down helicopters.”

“No, ma’am, it doesn’t,” Mitchell agreed. “But these will.” He produced a ruggedized tablet, fingers dancing across the screen. “May I?” He gestured toward the main monitor in the room.

Ma nodded. A moment later, the room’s main display flickered to life, showing technical schematics that made Admiral Han lean forward involuntarily.

“As I alluded to earlier, we have a substantial gravy train of supplies arriving in the coming weeks. Let me walk you through what all is coming,” Mitchell began, his Boston accent thickening with enthusiasm. “First up, some nasty little devils the techies came up with — smart mines. And not just any mines. We’re delivering a thousand of these Sea Guardian units. Let’s just say these aren’t your grandfather’s tethered sea mines either. These are equipped with passive sensors and networked AI. They decide when to detonate based on a programmable target value we determine.”

The display shifted to show deployment patterns and a second sea mine. “We call these Wraiths. We have six hundred of them arriving. What makes these unique is how they work; they can hunt and attack in swarms. But more than that, the onboard targeting AI is able to reference a library of PLA Navy schematics of the vessel it’s preparing to attack, to find its weak spot before plowing into it. For instance, it will aim for the vessel’s magazine or engineering section, areas of the vessel where its impact would likely lead to a secondary explosion. There’s a higher chance of a ship kill this way.”

Admiral Han’s pencil stopped moving as he realized how many in total were coming. “Are those numbers right? A thousand mines with AI networking?”

“Sure is, but that’s just the appetizer,” Mitchell continued. “We got the main meal still coming. Two hundred forty Hammer Sharks. They’re one-way attack UUVs with thousand-pound warheads. They sprint at sixty knots once they’re within five kilometers of their targets.”

Lieutenant General Wu leaned forward. “Oh, my Marines could deploy these from shore positions. We could wreak havoc on a landing force approaching the coast.”

“Exactly, General. But here’s the kicker, we have forty-eight Seeker XLUUVs that arrived last night. These are the big boys of autonomous underwater vehicles, and they can pack a hell of a punch. They can each carry twelve light torpedoes. These autonomous mini-subs can be programmed to loiter in a particular area, or they can be directed to hunt for enemy subs in a geofenced area. These bad boys are designed to deny the enemy sea control of wherever you direct them to for weeks.”

The display cycled through surface vessels next. “For chaos on top of the waves, we have these bad boys. Four hundred Zealot fast-attack boats. Each carries four naval Hellfires and a MANPAD quad pack, plus a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound suicide charge for when things need to get personal.”

“Wow, like a swarm of angry wasps,” Wu murmured appreciatively.

Mitchell grinned. “Oh, it gets better, Admiral. We got six hundred Feiying drone boats for ISR and strike missions. These are smaller autonomous boats, designed to scout ahead, launch loitering munitions, then kamikaze with a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound bomb once they’ve spent their munitions, or they can be redirected back to be reloaded and sent back on another mission.”

President Ma studied the numbers, his mind racing through the tactical permutations. “This is… substantial. More than I thought possible. Am I to also understand that most of this equipment has already arrived or is arriving before the end of the month?”

Harrington answered for Mitchell. “Yes, Mr. President. A lot of the equipment that could be sent via commercial air cargo has been steadily arriving via DHL, FedEx, and UPS. Some of the items have come via cargo vessels inside of shipping containers. When absolutely necessary, the US Air Force has made a handful of deliveries to Hengchun Airport. From there, a lot of it is moved to Camp Renshou, and then further dispersed to the locations where we’ve been told to hide them. Our goal, Mr. President, is to have as much of this equipment ready for your forces ahead of the mainland’s April fifteenth deadline.”

President Ma nodded. “Your people have done a lot to aid our country. We are forever in your debt for the help you have given. I do not mean to appear ungrateful or suggest that what you have provided isn’t enough or won’t make a difference. I believe it will. We are facing more than just the world’s largest navy. Should it come to war, our country will likely be swarmed with one-way kamikaze drones, ballistic and cruise missiles, and this is before the PLA Air Force and Army helicopters swarm the skies over our country. How do you plan to help us deal with this threat — or do we just have to absorb it?”

Harrington motioned for Mitchell to continue his brief. “Mr. President, that’s something we have considered as well and it’s something we have a solution for,” Mitchell said eagerly as he resumed his brief. “To answer your question about air defense, we have you covered. As of right now, your Air Force has ten Patriot PAC-3 batteries with eight launchers per battery fitted with a mix of CRI, MSE, and GEM-T interceptors. This gives your forces a total of eighty launchers with four missiles apiece or three hundred twenty missiles. We’re providing an additional five batteries with eight launchers apiece, bringing an additional hundred and sixty missiles.”

Defense Minister Kao’s eyes widened. “Whoa, wait a second. You’re saying you somehow managed to find and then cut through mountains of red tape to deliver five additional Patriot batteries? That gives us a starting missile capacity of four hundred and eighty interceptors! How in the hell did you manage to do that?” She stumbled over her words, dumbfounded by the news.

Harrington interjected, responding to her question directly. “Minister Kao, on behalf of my country, I must apologize for the unprecedented years’ worth of delays your country has endured. I wish there were a way for me to undo the unquestionable mistakes of the past in delivering these kinds of weapon systems you purchased earlier, but I can’t. I can, however, assure you we worked miracles with National Security Advisor Batista and President Ashford to expedite the delivery of these systems to your country now.”

Minister Kao bowed her head slightly, seeming to accept his apology. She then motioned for him to continue.

“In addition to strengthening your air and missile defense capability, we’ve also finished delivering, as of this morning, three thousand Anduril Industries Roadrunner Block III interceptors,” Harrington went on with a mischievous grin. “This is the newest generation of Anduril’s flagship reusable interceptor and has been upgraded to use a multiband radar plus IR and even LIDAR targeting system. Its range has been increased from ten kilometers to twenty, and it boasts a top speed of Mach 2.6. When we integrate this with the Patriot batteries. The airspace over your country is going to be difficult at best for the PLA to defeat — effectively creating the porcupine effect we believe will deter the PLA from even attempting to seize it.”

Mitchell pulled up another screen as Harrington finished. “Turning Taiwan into a porcupine is only part of the solution. We also need to make sure the PLA knows if they try to seize your country militarily, you can throw a few punches of your own. It’s a lesson we learned from the Russo-Ukraine War. It’s not enough to defeat the drones and missiles being fired at you. You have to fire a few back at ’em and hit ’em where it hurts. This is where the offensive package we’re providing will come into play. One of the keys of deterrence is being able to hit back. To accomplish this, we’ve once again turned to Anduril Industries’ Barracuda autonomous cruise missiles. We procured a varying number of all three variants. The 100 series is for close work, sixty miles if ground-launched and eighty-five miles if launched from an aircraft. It packs a forty-pound kinetic or modular warhead. The Barracuda-250s are for medium range, one hundred and fifty miles if ground-launched and two hundred if fired from an aircraft. Its warhead size is the same as the 100 series. The 500 series is your deep-strikes option. It has a range of five hundred and fifty miles if ground-launched and one thousand miles if air-launched. It also packs a larger punch, with a one-hundred-pound warhead.”

Mitchell paused a second as he read something on his tablet. “Our final delivery should arrive on March thirtieth. Oh, ha-ha, I told you what they are, but I forgot to tell you how many. My bad.” The others just stared at him, waiting for him to get to the point. “Um, yeah, so, a total of eighteen of ’em are on the way. Five hundred of the Barracuda-500s, seven hundred of the 250s, and the remaining six hundred of the shorter-range Barracuda-100s.”

The room suddenly fell silent as the implications of this weapons package finally began to sink in. TSG wasn’t just providing them with enough weapons and missiles to have Taiwan lose slowly, as had happened in Ukraine. They were providing them with the quantity and types of weapons to hold their own and, if necessary, defeat the mainlanders should they attempt to seize control of their island.

Harrington leaned forward as he spoke. “I know this sounds like a lot, and technically it is, Mr. President. But one of the key lessons we learned from the Russo-Ukraine War was the necessity to pre-position as many weapons as possible before the war starts. Unlike Ukraine, which shares a land border with multiple NATO countries, Taiwan is surrounded by the sea. And it’s a sea that is going to be brimming with PLA surface and subsurface warships. Should hostilities begin, we won’t have the luxury of bringing in outside supplies when we run low. We’ll have what we have on hand, and that’s likely all we’re going to have.”

NSB Director Chao nodded in acknowledgment. He adjusted his glasses, then said, “The coordination requirements for all of these systems is going to be challenging—”

“Yes, it is,” Mitchell answered before Chao could finish. “And one of the biggest challenges we’ll have to overcome at the outset is the initial saturation barrage of one-way kamikaze drones, ballistic and cruise missiles and aircraft. This isn’t something that can easily be handled by human operators. It’s why we’ve spent a lot of time and effort creating OrchidNet, an AI battle manager that will sync the distributed defensive nodes between your Air Force’s air and missile defense and the new systems we’re providing.

“I know it can feel scary to trust an AI-controlled battle manager. But the fact is no human operator or team of operators is going to be able to identify, track, and then prosecute the kind of saturation barrage the mainland is going to fire at Taiwan. The difference between surviving and defeating the enemy in the first hours and days of this attack will be determined by the side that employs and utilizes the best AI system. If that’s us, via OrchidNet, then I firmly believe we will deter the mainland from launching a ground invasion. If we fail, if the enemy succeeds in overwhelming us, then we’ll fight them block by block once they’re ashore.”

Admiral Han set down his pencil. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. This isn’t just material support to hurt the mainland. This is a complete defensive ecosystem.”

“It is. And as you have shared with us in prior meetings. The enemy will try to overwhelm us with their drone swarms. That’s why we’ve included one hundred twenty Leonidas-III high-power microwave systems to the package,” Harrington added. “These can be vehicle- or static-mounted and hard-kill a drone’s electronics from a kilometer away, degrading its sensors and controls at three. But here’s the thing — all this hardware needs trained operators. That’s where the four hundred and eighty additional contractors we’ve brought over come into play.”

President Ma stood, pacing to the window. Outside, mist swirled through ancient pines. “Show me a deployment concept.”

The display transformed into Taiwan’s geography and Mitchell overlaid defensive zones with the various weapon systems.

“Sea Guardians and Water Prisons here” — blue fields appeared in the strait — “covering primary approach routes. The Hammer Sharks and Seeker units patrol these sectors.”

He gestured, and icons scattered across the coastline. “Zealot boats based at fishing ports. They’ll blend with commercial traffic until activation. Feiying scouts will provide early warning.”

“The Penghu archipelago?” Wu asked.

“We turn it into a fortress. Patriot batteries here and here. Roadrunners in pop-up positions. Leonidas systems covering the beaches.”

“Kinmen and Matsu?” Ma asked without turning.

“Minimal deployment if that,” Chao interjected firmly. “Those islands are intelligence traps. Any system we place there—”

“Becomes a gift to the PLA,” Mitchell finished. “Correct. Tony Soprano had it right — ‘Those who want respect, give respect.’ We respect their ability to probe those positions.”

Ma turned back. “Your contractors. Six hundred men. How do they integrate into all of this?”

Mitchell’s expression sobered. “We embed with your units. Ten-man teams with each Patriot battery. Twenty operators per Seeker squadron. Fifty maintaining the Pulsar suites.”

“Combat roles?” Wu pressed.

“When it goes loud?” Mitchell’s jaw tightened. “We’re wherever the metal meets the meat. But our primary mission is keeping these systems operational under fire.”

“Think of us as force multipliers,” Harrington emphasized. “In special forces, we have a saying: ‘by, with, and through our allies.’ Just one TSG operator can manage twenty autonomous platforms. That’s the equivalent of twelve thousand additional combatants.”

The math hung in the air — six hundred men becoming an army through technology.

“Huh… and the timeline to make this all happen?” Kao asked.

“Most of this equipment is already loaded on ships and on the way. The first deliveries hit Kaohsiung in two weeks,” Mitchell said. “We expect full deployment by May first. We’ll run your crews through certification of the systems as they arrive.”

President Ma returned to the table. “This is a big delivery. The mainland is bound to see these preparations. They’ll know what’s happening.”

“Good. Let them,” Mitchell replied. “That’s the whole point. Deterrence through demonstrated capability. They need to see what they are facing and decide it’s not worth it. We nut this place up, turn it into a porcupine they won’t want to bite, and if they do, we sting ’em hard.”

President Ma nodded. “And if deterrence fails?”

Mitchell leaned back. “Then we give them what Colonel Kurtz promised in Apocalypse Now: ‘Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror.’”

This time, no one smiled at the movie quote.

Ma looked at his defenders. “Admiral Han — naval integration?” he asked.

“The autonomous submarines change everything,” Han said slowly. “Forty-eight platforms with nearly six hundred torpedoes… good night. All of that combined with smart mines…” He shook his head. “We’re going to turn the straits into a killing field.”

“General Wu, thoughts?” President Ma Ching-te asked.

“Oh, my Marines can work with this.” Wu’s eyes gleamed. “Feiying scouts feeding targeting to shore-based Barracudas, Zealot boats screening our flanks — we could hold Penghu indefinitely, and keep them from establishing a beachhead with those bridging barges they’ve been training on.”

“And how about you, Director Chao? What say you?” Ma stared at his chief spy.

The intelligence chief removed his glasses, cleaning them thoughtfully. “The electronic warfare suites interest me. Twenty Pulsars could create dead zones where their command networks fail.”

“I agree, Director,” Ma replied, then turned to his defense minister. “Thoughts, Minister Kao?”

She closed the funding document, then looked him in the eyes. “With ten Patriot batteries plus three thousand interceptors, we could maintain air defense even under saturation attacks.”

Ma absorbed their assessments. Each saw possibilities through their professional lens. But he saw the larger picture — a small island becoming a fortress, protected by silicon and steel rather than flesh alone.

“One concern,” Ma said finally. “These systems — they’re American. If Washington’s political winds shift…”

“Ah, well, that’s why we’re training your people,” Harrington said firmly. “It’ll be a full technology transfer. Your engineers will learn maintenance, and your operators will learn tactics. In twelve months, you’ll be self-sufficient.”

“Twelve months,” Ma repeated. “Beijing may not give us that long.”

“True,” Mitchell replied. “Then we accelerate. Train the trainer, give crash courses. Your people are smart and motivated. We can cut training time if needed and focus more on training trainers who can carry on without us, if it comes to that.”

The room fell silent. Through the window, the afternoon sun broke through clouds, casting golden light across the valley below. Taiwan’s beauty had always been its blessing and curse — too precious to abandon, too small to defend conventionally.

“OK. I’d like your professional assessment,” Ma said to Mitchell. “If the PLA comes next month — before full deployment — what happens?”

Mitchell met his gaze directly. “We make it cost them. Every ship that enters the strait faces smart mines. Every landing craft meets a Hellfire. Every transport aircraft flies through Roadrunner swarms.”

“Casualties?” asked Ma.

“Theirs? Catastrophic. Ours?” Mitchell paused. “We’ll bleed. But we’ll make them bleed more.”

“And your six hundred men?”

“We hold the line where it matters most: command nodes, radar sites, and ammunition dumps.” Mitchell’s voice hardened. “We’ve all written letters home already. We know the deal.”

President Ma Ching-te studied the American’s face — it was weathered, scarred, but steady. These weren’t corporate mercenaries. They were true believers, buying time with their lives.

“Show me,” Ma said finally. “If Beijing comes tomorrow — not May, not next year, tomorrow — how do your six hundred men help us survive?”

Marcus Harrington watched Mitchell’s fingers dance across the tactical display, pulling up deployment scenarios with practiced efficiency. The younger man had the technical details down cold, which was a good sign. But selling hope to a president facing annihilation required more than spreadsheets.

“Sir,” Harrington interjected smoothly, “before Commander Mitchell walks through the tactical response, let me address the strategic picture.”

President Ma turned from the display, eyebrow raised. Behind him, Taiwan’s military leadership shifted their attention like wolves catching the scent of new prey.

Harrington stood, his six-four frame commanding the room without trying. “You asked how six hundred contractors help Taiwan survive. The answer’s simple — we don’t let it come to that.”

“Hmm. Deterrence is fine in theory,” Admiral Han said dryly, “but theories don’t stop landing craft.”

“No, sir, they don’t. But eighteen hundred cruise missiles do.” Harrington moved to the window, gazing out at mist-shrouded peaks slowly fading as the afternoon sun burned them away. “President Ashford didn’t authorize five billion dollars because he’s fond of scenery. The PRC is as big a threat to our country as it is to yours. Helping to defeat the PLA here helps ensure they won’t defeat us elsewhere.”

He turned back. “If Taiwan falls, the entire first island chain collapses. It leaves Japan exposed. Australia becomes isolated and ripe for the taking. Every shipping lane from Singapore to Seoul falls under the control of the PLA Navy.”

Defense Minister Kao leaned forward. “I mean no offense when I say this, but Washington has a history of abandoned allies.”

“Taiwan’s not Afghanistan, or Vietnam.” Harrington’s voice carried the weight of absolute conviction. “That presidential finding isn’t just a piece of paper. It’s a message to Beijing. If they cross the line, if they choose to wage war, we’re going to bleed them dry.”

“Your contract,” NSB Director Chao said carefully, “it covers combat operations?”

“Every contingency.” Harrington pulled a document from his jacket. “Article Seven, Section Three. ‘In the event of military aggression against the Republic of China, TSG personnel are authorized to engage in direct combat operations in defense of allied forces and critical infrastructure.’”

Lieutenant General Wu studied the contract language. “Mercenaries don’t typically sign up for last stands.”

“We’re not typical mercenaries.” Harrington’s jaw tightened. “Every TSG operator volunteered knowing the stakes. This isn’t about paychecks. They’re compensated well, but this is about more than money. My people see Taiwan as America’s front line. You fall, we fall. It’s simple math. We fight them here, so we don’t have to back home.”

President Ma moved back to the table. “Assuming your conviction matches your contracts, logistics remain problematic.”

“Which brings me to my next point.” Harrington leaned forward. “Mr. President, your strategic reserves need work.”

That statement was met with silence. Taiwan’s leadership exchanged nervous glances with each other.

“We’re aware of our limitations,” Ma said carefully.

“Three months of food and fuel might be decent for a typhoon. But they are insufficient for a siege, and a siege is what you have to prepare for.” Harrington kept his tone respectful but firm. “Technically, Beijing doesn’t need to invade. They can blockade your ports and wait for hungry citizens to demand surrender.”

“And what are you suggesting?” Admiral Han’s voice carried an edge.

“Six months minimum. Preferably nine if you can.” Harrington spread his hands. “I know it’s expensive. I know storage is limited. But hunger breaks nations faster than bombs; it always has.”

“The cost—” Kao began.

“Is nothing compared to capitulation.” Harrington met each leader’s gaze. “Double your grain reserves. Triple pharmaceutical stockpiles. Diesel, aviation fuel, ammunition — everything.”

“Storage facilities would be primary targets,” Wu commented.

“Of course they will. That’s why you distribute caches. Spread it out in mountain bunkers and civilian warehouses.” Mitchell pulled up a map showing potential sites. “We’ve taken the liberty of mapping over two hundred locations you could use. Spread the risk around and minimize the loss.”

“There’s another element,” Harrington added. “Food production. Every apartment balcony should have planters. Every park becomes a victory garden. Schools teach hydroponics.”

President Ma’s expression shifted — something between surprise and satisfaction. “Actually, in that department, we’ve made significant progress there.”

The military leaders straightened. This was news to some of them.

“Oh, do tell, if you can,” Harrington prompted.

Ma gestured to Chao, who pulled up classified imagery on his tablet, casting it to the main display. Tunnel entrances appeared, carved into mountainsides.

“We call it Project Morning Glory,” Ma explained. “We’re three years into development. Hydroponic facilities are housed inside hardened tunnels. They’re temperature-controlled, with LED growth lights powered by geothermal.”

The images shifted, showing vast underground chambers filled with vertically growing towers. Lettuce, tomatoes, beans, and rice sprouted in precise rows.

“Current capacity?” Harrington asked, genuinely impressed.

“As of now, twelve facilities are operational. Each produces enough fresh vegetables for fifty thousand people daily.” Pride crept into Ma’s voice. “Not enough for twenty-one million, but combined with reserves—”

“You double your timeline,” Harrington finished. “Outstanding. Why wasn’t this in our briefings?”

“Classification concerns,” Chao said. “These facilities are strategic assets. Their locations—”

“Stay secret. Understood.” Harrington nodded approval. “What about protein?”

“We have fish farms in three locations and chicken coops on government building rooftops.” Ma almost smiled. “We learned from Singapore. Urban farming at scale.”

Mitchell whistled low. “That’s next-level prep. Like the Oracle said, ‘You’re not here to make the choice. You’ve already made it.’”

“The choice to survive,” Ma agreed. “But calories don’t stop missiles.”

“No, sir. But they buy time.” Harrington stood again, moving to the display. “Commander Mitchell, show the President our deployment timeline.”

Mitchell pulled up a Gantt chart. “Week one — first Sea Guardians arrive. Our people work with your Navy to establish command protocols. Week two — Patriot batteries start landing. We integrate with your air-defense network.”

The timeline scrolled forward. “By week six, half the autonomous systems are operational. Week ten, full deployment. Week twelve, your operators achieve basic certification.”

“And if Beijing moves before week six?” Han asked.

“Then we fight with what we have.” Harrington’s voice hardened. “Every TSG operator knows the mission: protect the equipment, keep it operational, and make the PLA bleed for every meter.”

“Bluntly,” Mitchell added, “we’re speed bumps with guns, buying time for these systems to do their work.”

President Ma absorbed this. “Your casualties would be severe.”

“If we are at war with China, chances are, our casualties would be severe no matter where we fight.” Harrington spoke stoically, without a hint of emotion. “We’ve all made that calculation, Mr. President. If we didn’t die here, it’d be somewhere else.” The room fell silent.

“There’s something else you should consider,” Defense Minister Kao said slowly. “Public opinion. If American contractors die while defending Taiwan—”

“Then I’m sure the media will run with it.” Harrington nodded. “It’s no different than when American blood was spilled when volunteers chose to fight defending democracy in Ukraine, or any other fight.”

“You aren’t afraid your deaths might be used as propaganda?” Wu questioned.

“With social media and everyone having a phone dialed into the internet, I’m sure there will be a few viral moments.” Harrington met his gaze. “However, if six hundred Americans die while defending Taiwan’s freedom, that tells Beijing America isn’t abandoning its allies.”

President Ma stood, motioning for the others to stay seated while he walked to the window. The setting of the sun painted Taipei in beautiful golden hues. This was his country, his city, and it was his responsibility to defend it.

“You genuinely believe we can deter them?” Ma finally asked.

Harrington stood and joined him at the window. “Sir, I’ve fought in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, and a few other places in this world. I’ve seen determined people with inferior weapons hold off superpowers. You have superior weapons and determined people; that is not something to underestimate or dismiss lightly.”

Harrington gestured at the city below. “Twenty-one million free citizens,” he said. “A first-world economy, and democratic values. That’s worth protecting, Mr. President.”

Lieutenant General Wu stood slowly. “I’ve heard many briefings in my time, many assurances from friends and allies. This feels different.”

“It should,” Mitchell replied. “We’re not Pentagon staff officers who rose through the ranks making promises they can’t deliver. We’re the tip of the spear, the trigger-pullers they send when force is the only answer. We’re Uncle Sam’s hellions, his killers when there’s no other choice but violence of action.”

President Ma returned to his seat. “You mentioned blockade scenarios. Walk me through TSG’s response.”

Harrington nodded to Mitchell, who pulled up new overlays.

“A blockade requires surface vessels maintaining station.” Mitchell highlighted patrol zones. “Zealot boats operate in wolf packs. Ten boats, forty Hellfires. How many destroyers can they spare?”

“Submarines would be the real threat,” Han observed.

“Seeker XLUUVs hunt subs,” Mitchell acknowledged. “Forty-eight platforms with nearly six hundred torpedoes. We turn their advantage against them.”

“Air cover?”

“Patriots and Roadrunners create defensive bubbles. If there’s three thousand interceptors rotating through launch sites, their drones, helicopters, and aircraft face constant attrition.” The display showed radius circles expanding from Taiwan. “Push the defensive perimeter out two hundred miles, and you make their blockade stations untenable.”

“They could stand off further,” Wu suggested.

“Sure, but then shipping routes reopen.” Harrington spread his hands. “Blockades require proximity. Distance equals gaps. Plus, you have to keep in mind, the US Navy is going to wreak havoc on the PLA Navy. The Air Force is going to want a piece of the action too. This isn’t going to be a one-sided affair, by any means.”

President Ma studied the display, then sighed deeply. “Your assessment… honestly, can we really hold?”

Harrington met his gaze directly. “With full deployment? Preparation? Your people’s courage? Hell yeah, we can hold.”

The President stood, extending his hand. “Mr. Harrington, Commander Mitchell. On behalf of the people of Taiwan, I want to thank you for your steadfast dedication and your willingness to fight and die if necessary, defending our people.”

Harrington shook firmly. “The honor is ours, Mr. President, but let’s save the thanks for after we win. We’ve got work to do between now and then.”

As they prepared to leave, Ma asked one final question. “Humor me. Just tell me why. Why do you and your men choose this?”

Harrington paused at the door. “We’re warriors, Mr. President — sheep dogs who have chosen a life of service to protect the flock. We fight for those who can’t, to defend the cause of freedom,” Harrington explained. “I know it sounds silly. But some things matter more than living. Freedom, democracy — those ideas have to be fought for, and have to be defended. If we just give up, if we choose to look the other way, what kind of future does that leave those who come after us?”

Leaving the residence as they walked toward the waiting vehicles, Harrington felt good about the meeting. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to war with China.

But if it does, he thought, God help them. Because my men and I will unleash holy hell on them.