Two Peasants and a President (55 page)

The driver was scarcely recognizable in the fading evening light and for all appearances was alone.  When his taxi had clattered over the last bump and come to a stop, Jun got out and opened the trunk.  A head, then a body, and finally two very stiff legs emerged.   Wearing cargo pants and carrying a small backpack, the man climbed out of the trunk carefully, his eyes searching the surroundings.  Before entering the building, he pulled a strange device from the backpack and spent a full minute scanning the night sky.

Only when he sensed no immediate danger did he hold his hand out to Hong.  Not tall but heavily built, the foreigner had an easy smile that did not conceal his wariness.  His look was direct and seemed to say: 
Now is your chance to impress me
.  Before taking the stranger inside, Hong ordered his son to a spot where he could conceal himself and watch for unwanted visitors.

A delicious aroma was coming from one corner where Hong’s wife was preparing tea and a large pot of something on a pair of hotplates.  Metal cups and plates were stacked nearby on a juice-stained table that also held an old set of brass scales.  She looked over and smiled.   Hong dragged an old skid dolly with squeaky wheels to a helter-skelter stack of skids and shoved it into the bottom of the pile.  With the skids removed, a trap door was visible in the floor.  Beckoning the stranger to lift one end, he swung the heavy door up until it rested against a pillar. 

Below, a lone candle revealed the shadowy faces of ten men, some sitting on grimy mattresses.  Most were dressed in scuffed or torn clothing;
some showing blood stains.  Several had been crudely bandaged where they had been kicked or beaten.  All were happy to at last be able to come up out of the ground for some exercise and food.  As each in turn climbed the primitive steps out of the hole, the foreigner’s eyes met theirs, looking as he might at a new group of recruits.  The fourth man was dressed in an army uniform, as was one other.  They had made a fateful decision on the highway the day before, one they would have to live with, if they were lucky.  But at least they had military training, uniforms and weapons which could be put to good use. 

The foreigner looked carefully at each, wondering to himself: 
Are you in complete control of yourself?  Are you willing to sacrifice to save others?  Will you do what you have said you will do?

Since it was obvious that they, like him, badly needed to stretch their limbs, he began a set of loosening-up exercises which they imitated.  The two in uniform were clearly no strangers to the military’s version of stretching.  By the time he had led them through several sets of calisthenics, Hong’s wife said something that judging from the twitching noses meant that dinner was ready. 

The group sat in a circle on the dirt floor, eagerly spooning the stew into their hungry mouths, speaking little.  When they were finished, the stranger asked how many could speak English.  There were five, three of whom were students who spoke it fairly well.  One volunteered to translate.  After pausing to look at each man one more time, the stranger pulled an object from the crate behind him and began to speak. 

******

Practically a resort
, he thought. 
Single room with a toilet and sink.  A chance to heal.  Wonder how the food is? 
With the outlook and sense of humor typical of an ex-Navy Seal, Brett surveyed the room in which he now found himself. 
Not a lot to work with in terms of escape but, hey, maybe something will present itself. 
He’d
walked the perimeter, such as it
was, checked the composition of the walls and door, and tried to look under the door.  While it didn’t seem very bright to him to have paraded him through the airport and put him on a passenger jet full of gawkers, the jokers had put a hood over his head when they brought him in here, wherever here was.  They’d turned right into the room and gone through a metal door at the end of the hall, so he knew that an exit was to the left.  That was a long way from getting him outside and away, but it was a start. 

Not that he was fooling himself.  Between the signs in the airport and
what he’d learned in Hong Kong, it was pretty clear this wasn’t a place anyone wanted to be.  The embassy rep in Hong Kong had told him his son and daughter-in-law were safe and out of the country, which was wonderful news, but it also made another successful jailbreak far less likely. 
Never waste time thinking about the negat
ives, focus on the
escape plan
had been drilled into him in Seal training; he hadn’t forgotten and wouldn’t.  As for the escape plan, it was still pretty rudimentary. 

Then the lights went out. 
So much for the food . . .

66

It was an American satellite that first picked up a ship more than five hundred
feet long leaving the port of
Zhanjiang, north of Hainan.  Since there is only one class of ship this size in the Chinese Navy, identification was immediate.  Minutes later she was followed by her sister ship. The departure of two major warships was instantly flashed to 7
th
Fleet headquarters, the Pentagon and the carrier battle group now heading for the South China Sea.

With its 48 long-range surface-to-air missiles, 8 anti-ship / land attack cruise missiles, 2 - 30mm close-in weapo
ns systems,
6
torpedo
tubes and 100mm main deck gun, the Lanzhou class of destroyers are among the most dangerous warships on the planet.  To Captain Samuel Johnston on the bridge of the USS George Washington, the message was clear: on his present course two warships specifically designed to attack his carrier-based aircraft were now on a course that would intersect with his fleet.  China had upped the ante. 

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Secretary of the Navy, Secret
ary of Defense as well the CIA D
irector requested an emergency meeting with the president and were in the White House Situation Room in thirty minutes.  The president for reasons unknown did not arri
ve for another twenty minutes.
When he and his chief of staff arrived and were settled, the SecDef began:

“Mr. President, it would appear that China intends to challenge the 7
th
Fleet which is heading toward the South China Sea.   Two powerful d
e
stroyers with highly potent air-defense capabilities have left Zhanjiang, and in the past twenty minutes, two frigates have also
sortied
.  Coupled with two of their advanced Song-class submarines, it is a force that could prove cha
l
lenging to the fleet.”

The president did not immediately respond.  The tension with Larimer and Benedict over their actions surrounding the Tianjin affair had been pa
l
pable at every meeting since and it still hung in the air.  Had the president not been so weakened by the public’s perception of his own actions in the matter, he would have dismissed both men and charged them with insubordination, if not treason.  Every time he laid eyes on them, they reminded him of his own impotence and he loathed them for it.  He had been staring at the wall as the SecDef made his initial statement and only now looked over at him.

“Why do you assume the Chinese intend to challenge the fleet, Mel?”  He posed the question in an almost casual manner that seemed curiously out of place.  “How can you be sure it’s not a bluff?”

“I used the word ‘appear
,’
Mr. President, since there is no way to know their intentions at this juncture.  However, since at no point has so powerful a Chinese force ever placed itself in the vicinity of a carrier battle group, we must consider the possibility that they intend to use it for more than bluff.  Furthermore, by sinking the Filipino frigate and the container ship, they have demonstrated a boldness not seen before.”

“If I may add to that, Mr. President,” interjected Benedict, “the Chinese president has repeatedly escalated his actions with seeming disregard either for the potential consequences or the opinion of the world community.  It is my assessment that he now feels he is in a position to enforce his assertion that China has sovereignty over the entire area.  By either forcing us to stand down or by sinking even part of our fleet and thereby forcing us to withdraw, he would in effect be proving for all to see that no one can oppose him by force.  The effect on everything from maritime commerce to oil and gas e
x
ploration in the area would be devastating.  We simply cannot allow China to control the South China Sea.” 

The president sat quietly considering what he had just heard, during which time he looked from the SecDef to the DCI and back, as if attempting to ascertain what they were up to.  Several uncomfortable minutes ticked by before he spoke.

“Let’s assume Li decides to force the issue, Mel, just how much trouble would the fleet be in?”

“Not taking into account any aces he may be holding, such as di
e
sel-electric subs lying in wait, I would not be able to guarantee that all of our ships would return to port.  Remember, aside from his naval assets, Li could also direct far more land-based aircraft at us than we have available on a single carrier.  Furthermore, if the carrier were put out of action, our offe
n
sive capability would be severely restricted.”

“What about our subs?” asked the president. 

“I think it likely that we would take down some of their surface ships and possibly submarines too if it came to that,” replied Larimer, “however their far more numerous aviation assets could conceivably overwhelm us.  We need to keep foremost in mind that we are in their neighborhood and any reinforcements would be coming from their side only.” 

“Recommendations?” asked the president.  There was another m
o
ment of uncomfortable silence as the leaders of the nation’s military and i
n
telligence communities struggled to comprehend the reason for the president’s
strangely relaxed conversational tone; it was almost as if he was discussing his golf game. 

“Frankly, Sir,” Larimer began finally, “At this point, I think it is we who are going to have to bluff.  If both sides go to wall, they will have a distinct advantage.” 

“Are you saying that we’re going in there on a wing and a prayer?”

Larimer, Benedict, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of the Navy looked at each other in disbelief.  It had been the president, in his desire to appear the forceful leader, who had ordered the fleet moved into the area
,
absent any clear or defined goal.  F
urthermore, he had disregarded
their advice to wait until another carrier battle group had been moved nearby in reserve, which has been standard practice
since the dawn of warfare
.

The CJC, who had been a helicopter pilot, was reminded of
a former p
resi
dent
, who ordered troops into Mogadishu, Somalia, one of the most heavily armed populations on the planet, eschewing his generals reco
m
mendation to bring along some armor, only to have to beg the Pakistanis to send their tanks in to rescue the few survivors of Black Hawk Down.  Drawing himself up in his chair, Larimer looked the president in the eye:

“As you may recall, Mr. President, we’ve already got our nose in the door, unless of course you propose to order the fleet to turn around.”

James Dahl, Chief of Staff stifled a smile.  It had been he who planted the idea that the president order in the 7
th
Fleet and he who told the president that way, if things went south, he could blame the men he detested for the entire Chinese debacle and then fire them without anyone making the co
n
nection to the Tianjin affair.  If, on the other hand, things went well, the president would emerge as the forceful leader who put China in its place.  Either way, few would remember that their president had tried to sweep what was happening in Tianjin under the rug and had refused to lift a finger to help his countrymen fleeing across the Yellow Sea. 
How wonderfully short the memory of most Americans
, he thought.

Larimer and Benedict had suspected all along it was Dahl who set this up.  It was obviously payback for Tianjin and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it, at least not that they would share with Dahl or the president.

“Mr. President,” said Larimer, struggling to conceal his anger.  “I don’t think we can afford not to allow our ships to defend an American-flagged container ship.”

“I’ll make that decision when the time comes,” the president replied coolly, clearly relishing the position in which he had placed the Secretary of Defense.

“Surely you can’t be thinking of sending the 7
th
Fleet in there as spe
c
tators.”

The president stood up and left the room without responding, followed by a smiling chief of staff.

The bastard couldn’t give a damn about the men and women he sends into harms way
, thought the SecDef. 
It’s all about political gamesmanship.  It always is.