Two Peasants and a President (7 page)

“Sonar.
Conn.  Tracking contact 2.  It’
s a Song, Sir.  Attempting to ascertain hull number.” 

The XO reflexively looked over at the sonar man, not expecting any additional information, but as if to confirm the significance of what he had just heard.  The Song Class or Type 039 is the latest and most advanced submarine to have been designed and built by the Chinese.  While certainly not at the level of sophistication of the USS Hawaii, it is nonetheless a potent and lethal platform.  The
XO’s
index finger depressed a square orange bu
t
ton, alerting the captain that he is requested in the control room.

Less than two minutes later, Captain Sidney Ralston’s head appeared from the companionway that opens into the control room.  Without glancing sideways at the others on duty there, he went immediately to the
XO’s
station.

“What have you got?”

“Two contacts, Sir.
  One possibly the
Yulin
, Type
53 Chinese Frigate bearing 1-7-
0, range 16,000 yards, the other likely a Song, bearing 1-
6
-
0, range 14,000 yards, speed 18 knots, hull number unknown.  The Frigate appeared to be on patrol, then suddenly speeded up.  The sub is maintaining her speed.”

“Captain has the
conn
,” said the captain.

“Captain has the
conn
,” repeated the XO.

“Make revolutions for 12 knots,” ordered Ralston.  “Secure the galley.  Let’s be a fly on the wall for awhile.”

1
0

“Baines is killing us, Herb,” the president said to Senate Majority Leader, Herbert Rausch. 

“I know, I know,” replied Rausch, “it’s like he’s passing out candy to kids.  And he knows it, damn it!  But he’s been singing that song for a long time and nobody that matters
is listening
.”

“The Chinese are listening, Herb.  They think this time he might a
c
tually get legislation pushed through Congress.”

“It
ain’t
gonna happen,” said Rausch.  “He hasn’t got the votes in the House and I’d never let it come to the Senate floor.  He’s out of his mind to even think about it.  If we start throwing up tariffs, they’ll retaliate and we’re all screwed.”

“You’re missing the point, Herb.”
The president’s impatience was beginning to show.  “The Chinese have made it very plain, tone down the rhetoric or else.  Baines is finding an audience and it’s growing.  He’s got sixteen million unemployed who are believers.  The Tea Party’s putting up ads saying that we’ll never get this economic mess behind us as long as we keep sending jobs to China and borrowing trillions from them.  Even some of our own are starting to cover their backsides with anti-China remarks.”

“Yeah, but most of th
em are in the house.  I’ve got my people under control, except for Baines and a couple of others.”

“Herb, you’re not hearing me.  We need money.  We need it now.  Everything we’ve been building will come crashing down around our heads if we can’t keep funding the expansion.  We’ve made a lot of promises, we’ve added 120,000 government jobs in Washington alone.  Those people are grateful and will express their appreciation with votes.  But if we can’t keep paying them, they’ll throw us under the
bus.  And as you well know, we’
ve got to create a great many more grateful employees.  Not until we have an insurmountable majority can we afford to slow the momentum.”

“Tomorrow I’m going to request another increase in the debt ceiling.  But it won’t do us a damn bit of good if we can’t find money to borrow.  We can’t just keep monetizing our own debt; printing money eventually leads to self destruction, and I don’t want to be remembered as the president who created the second Weimar Republic, Herb.  We’ve got to sell more Trea
s
uries to China and they’ve made it very clear what they want in return.  First and foremost, they want us to stop beating the protectionist drum.  Baines is
the drum major and he must be stopped.  You’ve got to put a lid on him, Herb.”

“What do you want me to do, Mr. President, have him assassinated?” the majority leader said, chuckling to himself.

“However appealing that might sound, it’s not gonna happen.  What have we got on him, Herb?”

“His military record is sterling.  Marine pilot, combat in Iraq 1, Silver Star.
There was a divorce, rather messy, but the media has already had their pound of flesh.  His girlfriend got beaten up so bad in the press that she left him too.  Now he’s a half a million poorer and climbs into a cold bed every night.”

“Use your imagination, Herb.  He’s a horny ex-jar head.”

A smile began to form on the Senate Majority Leader’s thin lips.  After a moment’s contemplation the smile faded and he looked at the president. 

“I hope you don’t expect me to get involved with anything like that.”

“No, no, my friend.  A dog d
oesn’t crap in his own bed
.  But when it does crap, sometimes it gets stepped in.”

T
he trace of a smile had evaporated from the Speaker’s face.  “I think that would be a bit risky, don‘t you, Mr. President?
”
he said, “for all of us.”

“
Life has risk, Herb.  Life has risk.”

As he left the oval office, Rausch found himself thinking about the recording system Nixon had installed there, the system that had figured prominently in his downfall.  The Senate Majority Leader told himself that there was no way the current president would repeat that dumb mistake, but technology is ubiquitous.  Rausch was as partisan as any majority leader in history, but a brave man he was not.  Far too close to retirement to put hi
m
self in jeopardy, he found himself thinking about how he could insulate himself from this in case it blew up in the president’s face. 

Glaring at the door through which Rausch had left, the president was filled with contempt.  He’d always thought Rausch was a devious and co
w
ardly little whiner.  He loved sticking it to the Republicans, but he never had a stomach for real battle.  He was the kind who always stuck the knife in from behind.

He picked up the phone and told the operator to put him throu
gh to his trusted friend in bean town
. 
The boys in
Boston
love a fight
, he thought,
and when they put a knife in someone, they look him in the eye and smile.

“
Shumer
.  What’s up, Mr. President?”

“Stuart, I think we’re going to need to carve out a little more time when I’m in
Boston
on Tuesday.  Let’s look at getting together after the dinner.  I’ve got a project I need some help with.”

11

March 10
th
 
2013 –
0200 hrs  –
  West of
Mindoro
–
South China Sea

There was no conversation in the control room of the USS Hawaii.  The captain sat quietly keeping his counsel while the sonar man listened as intently as he had for his final exam.  He’d worked hard to get here and he was damned good. 

Captain Sidney Ralston, 42, was
himself
a graduate of Annapolis and the product of a navy family, his father having served aboard a carrier in the first gulf war.  His grandfather
had flown
an F4 Phantom over Viet Nam, his efforts earning him a stay at the Hanoi Hilton.   Though kind and personable to his close friends, the captain projected a certain aloofness to his crew.  This was a product of hours spent around his father and grandfather, who cou
n
seled him about the importance of not being on too friendly terms with his subordinates.  “Your men must first respect you,” his father had said, “but they must also fear you, for in combat they cannot hesitate to carry out an order they know may result in their own deaths.”

“Sonar.  Conn.  Contact.  Sounds like an old tin c
an, Sir.  It’s got to be that
destroyer we turned over to the Philippines.”

“Conn.  Sonar.  Designate contact 3 an
d commence tracking.  What do you
think, XO?” the captain said. 

“He’s in his own backyard, Sir.  The Chinese may
say otherwise, but if I were he
,
I’d want to know what a Chinese frigate is doing 700 miles from home.  He’s got some balls, though, Sir.  Those old tin cans couldn’t hope to take on a modern frigate.  He wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Sonar.  Conn.  Computer says it’s the Raj
ah
Humabon
.  Uh, Oh!  It think
he’s got a problem, Sir.  Sounds like that frigate just opened fire with their deck gun!”

“Captain!” the sonar man interrupted.  “I just heard a 100mm round hitting the water.  Either the Chinese are lousy shots or they’re firing across the Filipino’s bow.”  The next words out of the sonar man’s mouth had a very different tone, one that could not conceal his fear.

“The sub’s opening his outer doors, Sir.”

“What in the hell is that sub doing, XO?  Surely China’s not going to torpedo a Philippine naval vessel and risk starting a war.”

“That appears to be exactly what’s happening, Sir,” replied the XO.

“I think it’s time for the fly to leave the room, gentlemen, before we get
invited to the party.  Come about to course 0
-1-
0, make revolutions for 12 knots.  Let’s see if this boat is as quiet as they say it is.”

As the USS Hawaii made a slow turn to the north, the sonar man heard the unmistakable sound of a very large amount compressed air forcing a torpedo into the water.

“Torpedo in the water, passive homing type, appears to have acquired the Filipino warship,” the sonar man recited with as little emotion in his voice as he could muster.

Approximately two and one half minutes later there was a loud
whump
, followed by another explosion, forcing the sonar man to pull his headset away from his ears.  Even those in the control room not wearing a headset could feel two pressure waves buffet their submarine, indicating that in all likel
i
hood that there would be Filipino widows and orphans this day.  This was followed by the announcement that they all knew was coming.”

“Torpedo hit, secondary explosions.  She’s going down.”

A deep chill permeated the control room, for these were sounds of a dying ship.  Everyone there knew that at this moment, sailors like them were trapped and drowning in compartments of a ship that was headed into the depths of the South China Sea. 

12

March 11
th
  2013
–
1830
–
White House  –
Washington DC

The President had called his representatives from
the
National Security
Council
, Navy, Defense, CIA and the Secretary of State together to address new reports that had been filtering out of the Philippines.

“Gentlemen, Valerie, the Philippine government claims that a Chinese warship without provocation sank a Philippine vessel in international waters, some 700 miles from the coast of China.”

The president turned toward the Secretary of Defense. “What have you got, Mel?”

“Mr. President, we’re still sorting things out, but it appears that a Chinese frigate hailed BRP Rajah
Hum
abon
, a WWII US Destroyer now
part of the Philippine Navy, which was sailing approximately 70 miles off the coast of
Palawan
, clearly in international waters.  The Chinese frigate claimed the Philippine vessel was in Chinese waters and ordered it to wit
h
draw.  When it declined to do so, shots were fired across its bow.”

“The Philippine government claims the Chinese frigate not only fired across the bow of their ship but then proceeded to sink it.”

“The USS Hawaii was at that time on rout
ine patrol at a depth of 400 feet
in the South China Sea north of the Spratly Islands, which China claims as their own.  As you know, communicating with a submerged nuclear submarine is a bit convoluted, but we sent a message alerting him to the fact that we needed to communicate.  A little while ago, we received his reply.” 

“It appears true that the Chinese frigate fired two warning shots at the Philippine vessel, but did not, repeat, did not sink it.  At the same time a Chinese Song class submarine that was submerged in the same area, fired a single torpedo which hit the Philippine ship.  There were secondary expl
o
sions and she was sent to the bottom, apparently with all hands.”