Drone Command (10 page)

The chief of naval operations leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Fifty percent of global merchant fleet traffic passes through the South China Sea, much of it making its way north to the ECS. Oil
tanker traffic in these disputed waters is three times greater than the Suez Canal and more than five times greater than the Panama Canal. We're talking about China seizing control of the majority of global commerce. Does that sound like the Chinese are fucking kidding, Mr. Garza?”

Garza raised a hand in mock surrender. “Okay, just checking. If we're going to war with the Chinese, I just wanted to be sure it was for a damn good reason.”

So did Lane.
Good job, Jim
.

“So we're back to sending the Chinese our own message,” Shafer said. “And we're running out of time. I spoke with my counterpart in Tokyo earlier this morning. He says Prime Minister Ito's hand is being forced by this video. Their cabinet is moving into crisis mode. He said if we don't act forcefully and immediately, they will.”

Wheeler countered. “I say we make a strong public statement, explicitly condemning the Chinese actions yesterday. Pledge our support to the Japanese.”

“Words won't be enough for the Japanese or our other allies,” the marine general said. “And the Chinese might just laugh us out of the room. This whole conflict is about naval presence. Force.”

The chairman was as grim as a hanging judge. “The Vietnamese have a saying, ‘You can't put out a nearby fire from a distant well.' If we don't show up in force in the area immediately, we'll shake the confidence of all our allies in the Pacific. Even NATO. Hell, maybe the whole world.”

The room quieted as everyone processed the implications of the chairman's statement.

Lane was lost in his own thoughts. He was the commander in chief of the most powerful military in all of human history. He wasn't nearly as qualified as any of the men in this room on defense and security matters, and yet the Constitution vested him, the president, with the authority to wage war. If the chairman was right, maybe a global war really was possible. Sounded crazy to even think that. But Lane had read his history, and few heads of state in Europe in either 1914 or 1939 were prepared to think about the unthinkable before it happened. Two global wars resulted.

“And that's why you want a show of force as soon as possible?” Lane said.

“Yes, sir,” the chairman said.

“And what are the options?” Lane asked.

“We're divided, Mr. President. I believe sending the
George Washington
carrier battle group to the area is the wisest course of action. The
George Washington
is based in Yokosuka, Japan.”

Lane saw the marine corps and air force chiefs nodding in agreement.

“But the navy has its reservations,” the chairman added. He turned to the chief of naval operations.

“The Chinese have pursued an aggressive A2AD antiaccess/area denial capability. We believe they've achieved a significant breakthrough in their antiship missile technologies. The DF-21D and YJ-12 missiles are proven and reliable conventional antiship systems capable of taking out an aircraft carrier. However, we have our own antimissile defense systems in place that we believe can deal with those threats—provided the Chinese don't overwhelm us with sheer numbers.”

“Is that likely?” Lane asked.

“Not at the moment, especially in the northern reaches we're talking about. Down south toward Taiwan, well, that's a different matter.”

“But the admiral has other concerns,” Shafer said.

“Our biggest concern is the Chinese deployment of the Wu-14, a hypersonic, maneuverable, conventional missile warhead. Not only is it fully capable of taking out an aircraft carrier, but it travels at such a high rate of speed we have no means to defend against it at the present time. My concern is that if you send the
George Washington
into harm's way we might just lose it. That would send an even stronger message to our allies than doing nothing at all.”

“Of course, the DIA doesn't believe the Wu-14 is actually operational,” the marine commandant said.

“The CIA hasn't confirmed it, either,” Shafer added. “Nor have any other national intelligence agencies.”

Lane sighed. “Why the hell not?” It wasn't really a question. Lane had heard all the excuses before in his PDBs. He also agreed that China was
America's most challenging strategic threat and the Wu-14—if it actually existed—the most dangerous conventional weapon in their arsenal.

“We don't have HUMINT near it, and their cyberdefenses are impenetrable,” Shafer said.

The air force general wasn't through carpet bombing the navy's argument. “It's just not feasible that the Chinese have it, at least not an operational version. We've been trying to crack the HGV nut since the '80s and still can't make the damn thing work. The physics behind it are just too hard to engineer around.”

“That doesn't mean the Chinese haven't figured it out,” the admiral said. “They say they have. They've even leaked the videos of their tests.”

The marine general scoffed. “Pure propaganda. They're at least five years away. Think about it. What a coup for their intelligence service if they can make us believe they have the Wu-14 when they actually don't? They could scare us out of the Pacific for the cost of a porno movie.”

“I'm not willing to bet the lives of five thousand sailors on your theory,” the admiral snapped. He turned to Lane. “Are you?”

“What about a preemptive strike against their DF-21 platforms?” the army general asked. “Seems like the easiest way to defeat the Wu-14 system.”

“But those are mobile missiles,” the air force chief said. “Besides, the DF-21s have almost twice the combat range of our F-35Cs. You'll need to use longer-range assets like sub-launched cruise missiles to effect the strike.”

“The Chi-coms would start crapping golf balls if we lit up their radar screens with cruise missiles. They'd think we were launching a preemptive
nuclear
strike,” Garza said.

“Not to mention that a preemptive strike without just cause is illegal under international law,” Wheeler said.

“And that would start a war, which, according to our Constitution, you explicitly don't have the authority to do,” Garza said. “Unless you consider the Chinese an imminent threat to the United States.”

“Which it isn't,” Wheeler added. “Technically, it's Japan that's in imminent danger, not us.”

“There are other options,” the marine commandant said. “The Wu-14 relies on satellite systems for guidance and navigation. We could launch ASAT missiles and take out their satellites.”

“And start a space war with the Chinese, who would take out our satellites,” the air force general said, shaking his head. “We're far more dependent on space assets than they are.”

“Or disrupt the kill chain,” the army general said. “Disrupt the links between the satellites and the missile.”

“How?” Lane asked.

“Cripple their command and control systems through conventional or cyber attacks.”

“And you're confident we can do that?” Lane asked.

“Technically, yes, I believe it's entirely possible.”

“And you're confident enough that you're willing to risk one of our carriers and the lives of the sailors on board?”

The army general hesitated, weighing the evidence in his mind. “Frankly, no. The Chinese would know these were points of vulnerability and would have probably prepared defenses against them in advance. We wouldn't know if our efforts were successful until after they launched the vehicle.”

“Not acceptable,” the admiral said.

Lane took a sip of coffee, processing the conversation. He leaned toward the chairman. “So what you're telling me is that the best way to prevent a war with China is to threaten war with China?”

“Yes.” The irony wasn't lost on the chairman or anyone else in the room.

Lane turned back to the admiral. “But the only way we can safely deploy the
George Washington
is to first launch a preemptive strike against the Wu-14?”

“That's my assessment, sir.”

“If you can find it,” the army general added.

“So we have to start a war to prevent it,” Garza said, shaking his head. “Or roll the dice and hope the Chinese are just bluffing.”

Lane turned back to Shafer. “And we're talking about provoking a regime that's already proven itself recklessly aggressive?”

The secretary of defense nodded grimly.

“And yet, backing down or doing nothing would only embolden them in their recklessness? Threaten our existing alliances?”

The secretary of state nodded in agreement.

Wheeler added, “And if we don't act quickly and decisively, the Japanese will start their own war, dragging us into it anyway.”

Lane addressed the whole room. “In other words, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't.”

“That's about the shape of it,” the chairman said. “A Texas longhorn–size dilemma.”

“So my options really are war on Chinese terms or war on our terms. Push the
George Washington
into harm's way and see if the Chinese strike—or launch a massive preemptive cruise-missile strike without cause to protect our carrier from a missile that may or may not actually exist?”

“And then there's the North Koreans and their MIRV missile testing,” Garza said, grinning. “Who knows what those batshit crazies will do.”

Lane tented his hands, calculating.

“Your decision, Mr. President?” the chairman finally asked.

Lane wasn't exactly sure. He'd already cast his lot with Pearce and Myers. With nothing but two bad choices in front of him, they were his only hope of avoiding either. But if they failed, it looked like World War III was all but certain.

He prayed they wouldn't. But they needed time.

Time he didn't have.

JAPANESE EMBASSY

CHAOYANG DISTRICT, BEIJING, CHINA

8 MAY 2017

H
elmeted Chinese riot police stood shoulder to shoulder against the screaming crowd, eyes burning against the tear gas blowing in their faces from the shifting winds. The front ranks clung desperately to their wire-mesh shields that had gaps between the steel rods just large enough for fingers to grasp—a distinct design flaw now made apparent as rioters seized the mesh and pulled on the tops of the shields like mountain climbers. A few succeeded in leaping over and stepping onto shields held aloft like a roof.

The police were under orders to not open fire with their weapons, but they swung their batons with abandon, trying to break the fingers clawing through the mesh or busting the ankles of the men overhead.

More than two thousand Chinese nationalist protestors shouted and surged at the wavering green police line. Black smoke choked the air as two overturned Toyota sedans burned and dozens of small fires crackled with piles of Japanese flags.

A sea of Chairman Mao posters and red and gold PRC flags hovered over the rioters' heads. A thick, bald-headed man with Chinese flags painted on his face shouted in a megaphone. “For the love of our homeland! War with Japan! War against the invaders!”

The grim Japanese ambassador stood in the second-floor window watching the riot, a secure cell phone pressed against his ear as he gave a
live description to his boss, the foreign minister back in Tokyo. He also confirmed similar riots in Shanghai, Tianjin, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen. Japanese restaurants, department stores, and manufacturing facilities were looted; Japanese citizens were harassed on the streets and even assaulted. Japanese-brand televisions, computers, and appliances were being smashed in stores and on the sidewalks.

Two embassy staffers standing next to the ambassador shot official videos with Canon video cameras while other frightened staffers shot home videos on their cell phones.

The ambassador and foreign minister both agreed. The real danger wasn't the rioting. The Chinese government would never allow spontaneous protests to erupt on the streets. Tiananmen Square was proof of that.

—

V
ice Chairman Feng watched the riots unfolding on his television. He lit a cigarette.

He had to give the MSS its due credit. The bumblers had nearly killed the Japanese activists on the dive boat two days ago. He'd seen the video footage shot by the Japanese and posted on the Internet. His explicit orders were to simply scare off the Japanese civilians, not beat them into comas.

But at least the MSS handled the controlled rioting at home well enough. State security had worked tirelessly over the last forty-eight hours to fan the flames of Chinese national outrage. Marathon television broadcasts of old newsreel footage, elderly victim interviews, and state-sponsored feature films depicting the Rape of Nanking, the invasion of Manchuria, and other Japanese wartime atrocities in China and elsewhere in Asia blanketed the airwaves. MSS social-networking agents overwhelmed the Internet, flooding blogs, websites, and the Chinese version of Twitter, Weibo, with virulent anti-Japanese propaganda and calls for vengeance even as they bullied, blocked, or secretly arrested citizens who dared suggest calm, reason, and peace.

The MSS social-networking campaign worked flawlessly. They convincingly portrayed the Chinese fishing trawler as the victim of a Japanese assault, and the old slogans about the Diaoyu Islands being stolen Chinese territory were on the lips of half a billion people. Chinese newscasts repeated the most recent public opinion poll: 57 percent said that war with Japan in the next few years was inevitable. Of those, 79 percent said that it was both necessary and good.

The polls were unsurprising. The Communist Chinese government had spent the last six decades demonizing Japan and its vicious assault on the Chinese mainland before and during World War II. In addition, every Japanese success in the postwar period was depicted as being at the expense of the Chinese people even as Japanese contributions to Chinese development in the post-Mao years were ignored. The ongoing narrative of China's victimhood by the entire world, especially by the West and particularly Japan, was constantly promoted throughout the Chinese education system. It was a shrewd calculation by the Party leadership. The greater China's humiliation at the hands of foreigners, the greater the victory—and hence legitimacy—of the Party as it restored China's fortunes and sacred honor to their previous glory. They freely taught the ancient Chinese concept of
tianxia
, the idea that China was the center of the world, the highest civilization according to the Mandate of Heaven, and that everything and everyone under heaven owed obeisance to the greatest of all human societies.

It wasn't terribly difficult for the MSS to tease the smoldering public hatred of Japan into a roaring fire. The trick was not letting it burn out of control. The prospect of a billion angry citizens rising up was even more worrisome than the prospect of war with Japan or even the United States. MSS operatives were at the scene of each of the riots, carefully and quietly directing events, even restraining the most overzealous. The local police departments had been warned not to fire on any Chinese citizens under penalty of extreme sanction. This wasn't a humanitarian concern. The last thing Feng wanted was for the crazed monster of a public riot to suddenly turn on the authority of the state. Nearly thirty years later, the government was still living down the nightmare of Tiananmen Square.
The Chinese people and their innate desire for freedom was still the greatest threat that Feng and the ruling class most feared.

Feng stabbed out the cigarette in his ashtray. Now the Japanese will know how serious he is about the Diaoyus. They might resent the loss of the islands and their revenues, but now they'll fear opposing China even more.