Two Peasants And A President Part 27

"What are the Vietnamese doing?"

"Fighters being prepped at Da Nang, Sir. Looks like they're preparing to sortie their fighters to fly cover over their frigates."

It doesn't make sense, thought Captain Johnston. Even without the customary backup which the president denied, my carrier battle group is an extremely formidable weapon. While it would be theoretically possible to overwhelm it, it would take far more than what I'm seeing now. And the farther we are from the mainland, the more the sh.o.r.e-based missile threat diminishes. Even if they decided to sortie dozens of aircraft against me, I could still inflict enormous losses on them. My subs alone could very possibly sink everything they currently have on and under the water. What are they doing?

"Prepare all aircraft for combat. When those destroyers close to missile range, I want them to know there's a cloud of stinging insects waiting overhead. When their subs are in range, have the anti-sub helicopters drop sono-buoys on their heads; let 'em know we can dump the whole s.h.i.thouse on 'em if they so much as open their torpedo doors. Notify all ships to go to battle stations," he ordered. "And tell fleet headquarters what we're seeing here."

Larimer again found himself cooling his heels in the White House Situation Room with Benedict and the Navy Secretary, having been pulled out of a meeting only to have to wait for the president and his chief of staff to arrive.

"I have the distinct feeling Li's not bluffing," Larimer said.

"I can't think of any other conclusion that could be drawn," replied Benedict. "a.s.suming he has the b.a.l.l.s to do it, how do you think we'll fare?"

"a.s.suming they wait until the destroyers are within optimal range, the Washington battle group will be far enough from the coast to mitigate but not eliminate entirely the sh.o.r.e based missile threat. Against two destroyers and two Song cla.s.s subs alone, we would no doubt prevail. But if they sortie dozens of aircraft against us, which it appears they may be preparing to do, we could have our hands full. They'll lose two front line destroyers and probably two front line subs in the process, and that's what troubles me. Why would they sacrifice that and risk war?"

The arrival of the president, his chief of staff and national security advisor, James Langley forestalled any answer to that question.

"Gentlemen," began the president before he was even seated, "I was just informed that there has been a battle in the South China Sea which the Chinese apparently lost. I have also been advised that China may be preparing to challenge the 7 Fleet. Mel, would you care to explain what transpired?" he said, more as a challenge than a question.

"It appears that two Chinese frigates fired on the convoy, but scored no hits," Mr. President. "The Vietnamese fired at the Chinese frigates and sank both of them," replied Larimer, providing only a barebones account.

"Do you have any theories as to why the Chinese missed and the Vietnamese did not?" asked the president, well aware that Larimer was playing with him.

"Bad shots, I guess," answered the SecDef, as Benedict struggled to contain a smile.

"d.a.m.n it, Mel," the president snapped, "you can do better than that."

By sending the 7 Fleet into harms way for purely political reasons and denying any reserves, an unprecedented move, the president had deeply angered not only his Secretary of Defense, but the Secretary of the Navy and for that matter, every military man on the national security team and in the Pentagon. Larimer saw the president as no friend of the military, someone who only showed an interest in those who put their lives on the line when he was in campaign mode or wanted to take credit for something they did.

"Mr. President," Larimer paused before continuing, "my understanding is that the Chinese frigates each fired two anti-ship missiles either at the container ship or at the Vietnamese frigates. Both were apparently jammed, decoyed off course, or destroyed by point-defense weapons. The Vietnamese missiles managed to evade whatever countermeasures the Chinese used and two warships were sunk. That's about as clear as I can make it," he said in a manner bordering on condescension.

The president's anger at having been mocked had grown to the point where he briefly considered relieving Larimer on the spot, but to do so would risk a mutiny and quite possibly result in the revelation that it had been he who sent the 7 Fleet into harms way without a reserve. The most galling aspect, in the president's mind, was that he knew d.a.m.n well that Larimer knew he had him where he wanted him.

"OK, Mel, let's cut the c.r.a.p. We both know the 7 Fleet went through the Taiwan Strait when our understanding was that it would move south of Taiwan and that was what drew the destroyers away from the convoy."

Oh, how brilliant, thought Benedict, how ever did you figure it out?

"Your order, as I recollect, Mr. President, was that the fleet rendezvous with the convoy south of Taiwan. The chance of the convoy surviving an encounter with two frigates and two of the most powerful warships in the Chinese Navy, was next to nil. By taking the Taiwan Strait route, the Chinese were forced move their destroyers closer to the coast where they could shadow our battle group, evening the odds considerably in Vietnam's favor and, I might add, saving lives, some of them American."

"And putting the entire fleet at risk, Mr. Larimer!"

"The 7 Fleet was at no time in Chinese waters," the Sec Def said, his voice rising, "It transited the Strait of Taiwan legally, as it has in the past, and it was in no way responsible for the sinking of the Chinese frigates. The only order that has placed our fleet in jeopardy was the one that sent it in there in the first place, with no reserve whatsoever, counter to established procedure and common sense, Mr. President," the SecDef spat out the words 'Mr. President.'

Benedict thought for a moment that the president was going to leap over the conference table and slug Larimer. His face was red and his fists were so tightly clenched that his knuckles gleamed white. Even his chief of staff worried briefly that it would come to blows. The president had smugly ordered an action that risked American lives for what were clearly political reasons and had been out-maneuvered by Larimer and, he suspected, Benedict. The situation was veering dangerously out of control and regardless of the outcome, he sensed he would somehow come out on the losing end.

The president was now at a total loss, needing to seek advice from a man whom he loathed and belatedly realizing that if the lone carrier battle group he had sent into harms way was sunk, the blame would find its way back to him, despite his efforts to implicate others. That he had taken such advice from his chief of staff, himself abysmally ignorant of anything military, now seemed idiotic at best. Given the low ebb of his presidency, he was finally forced to face the fact that he was totally out of his depth and a military calamity would only highlight that, possibly ending his presidency.

In a move that was as unexpected as it was sudden, the president turned and stormed out of the room followed, after an uncertain interval, by his chief of staff, leaving Larimer and Benedict sitting looking at the National Security Chief and the Navy Secretary. No one spoke for several minutes until Larimer finally said: "I've got a fleet in jeopardy, a possible war on my hands and a president who's . . . out, and obviously nothing's getting done in here. If he comes back, tell him I'll be in my office in the Pentagon. Oh, and in case he doesn't remember, remind him that's where we defend this nation."

Jim cracked the door from the loading dock to the hallway. It was empty and the ex-Seals and soldiers quickly made their way to the elevator. One floor down, the doors opened onto an empty bas.e.m.e.nt corridor. According to the map, the door at the end of the corridor led into another where they would find the rooms used as cells.

The soldiers went first as the Seals flattened themselves against the wall, staying out of sight. As expected, two police officers were seated on folding chairs outside of one of the doors lining the right side of the hallway. Startled but not alarmed at seeing the soldiers, the officers stood but made no attempt to reach for their side arms, though one lifted his radio, quickly changing his mind when the Kalashnikovs the soldiers were carrying were abruptly leveled at his chest. Ordered to place their guns and radios on the floor and step back, they had no choice by to comply.

"Keys!" Jim ordered, stepping around the corner with an outstretched palm. The order needed no translation and the guard quickly pulled a ring off his belt, selecting the proper one and handing it to the tall, well-built man now standing before him.

"Room service," Jim called loudly as he turned the lock, grinning broadly when a familiar face smiled back.

"What took ya so long?" drawled Brett, casting a questioning glance at the two men in green army uniforms.

"Had to borrow a couple of soldiers first," Jim replied.

"Thought for a second the firing squad had arrived," Brett said.

The guards, relieved of their radios and side arms, replaced Brett in the cell.

"Ya'll be good now," Brett said as he closed the door. "Holly and Ray and Maggie?" he asked anxiously.

"They're all stateside with Richard. Holly had some misadventures along the way, but she's OK, I'll fill you in later. Now we've got to figure a way to get the rest of us back there too." He turned toward the other Seals. "You already know George, and that's Radcliff, Rad for short," he said.

"Well I'll be d.a.m.ned, I didn't know we had Seal reunions in China," Brett said.

"We've got some dissidents on the dock waiting for us, so let's move it."

"I a.s.sume that means there's a plan," said Brett.

"Well, yeah, but it gets a bit sketchy from this point on," he replied. "The US Emba.s.sy is where we need to be, but we have to get to Beijing first. We've got a delivery van and a taxi to work with, but the whole d.a.m.n country's under martial law due to some amazing stuff the dissidents have been doing. They're some brave SOB's. They're taking on the whole d.a.m.n Chinese military and doing a h.e.l.l of a job of it!"

"Roadblocks?"

"Some and growing by the hour," replied Jim. "Our dissident friends have managed to slow things down with a brilliant idea I'll tell you about later, so we've got a bit of a leg up, but the emba.s.sy's a long way from here and not everyone in it is friendly. For all intents and purposes, the Station Chief's the only friend there we've got. The amba.s.sador would just as soon we drown ourselves, so we may have to storm the place."

"That don't sound too hard," said Brett. "Those State Department types tend to be long on talk and short where it counts."

"We've gotta get there first, so let's roll."

"What happens to the soldier-boys?" asked Brett.

"They're coming with us. They've already put their lives on the line and if we leave 'em here, they're as good as dead. If I could, I'd bring everyone of the dissidents along too, but that's just not possible. They're gonna have to hope for a new government sympathetic to what they're trying to achieve. Otherwise, it's gonna be real grim."

"As soon as we're outta the building, our dissident friends are gonna stage a little fire drill. Some of 'em'll work on getting everyone out of the hospital and the rest of 'em are gonna set enough charges to hopefully bring this house of horrors down."

"I like it!" said Brett.

"I knew you would."

Five minutes later they'd slipped back onto the loading dock.

"OK, here's the drill: the four of us are gonna ride in the delivery van with the soldiers up front. Our friend Jun will be running interference in his taxi. He knows where the dissidents are using their little delaying tactics, which we need to avoid. I'll explain later.

We've got cell phones, as long as somebody doesn't shut the system down, and I've got some secure sat phones that I can use to talk to the station chief. He's gonna scope out the street outside the Emba.s.sy before we get there. They've always got plainclothes police around the compound to snag any potential defectors, so we'll have to get by them, but that shouldn't be too hard." Jim turned to the two dissidents still in the dock area.

"Thank you for everything you have done. We will be forever in your debt. You and the others are some of the gutsiest guys I've ever known. Good luck to you all!"

By the time the overhead door had clattered upward far enough to allow Jun's taxi and the delivery van out, a fire horn mounted on the wall of every floor of the hospital started blasting its warning. Dissidents not setting charges on the lower level began herding those inside the hospital out into the parking lot. Only when all the patients and personnel were clear would the two officers in the bas.e.m.e.nt cell be removed, still wearing their own handcuffs, and transferred to another location from which they would later be released.

The entire plan hinged on preventing the untimely arrival of police and fire fighters. Accordingly, routes from nearby police and fire stations had been heavily salted with caltrops, and dissidents waited in key locations to further impede the authorities if necessary. It was hoped that those placing charges and clearing personnel and patients out of the hospital would have sufficient time to melt into the crowds of students protesting at the nearby Nankai University or leave via private cars. The alternative would be most unpleasant.

69.

It had been decided to avoid the Beijing-Tianjin Expressway even though considerable time might be saved, this for the simple reason that there were too few exits in the event a roadblock was sighted ahead. Jun began what was likely the most circuitous route ever devised to get from Hospital #77 in Tianjin to the American Emba.s.sy in Beijing, but what it lacked in directness it more than made up for in possible alternates and the opportunity to avoid likely places for a roadblock, not to mention caltrops. The delivery van followed, driven by the soldiers and keeping an interval of at least two blocks. In the event that Jun saw trouble ahead, the van would take the first turnoff and circle in the area until he directed them to an alternate route, all this a.s.suming the cellular net was not taken down and the two vehicles could communicate easily.

Skirting the Huayuan Industrial Area and the enormous fish farms, Jun led them northeast toward their first waypoint, Wuqing, a city predating the ancient Han Dynasty. Old highway 103, normally still a busy thoroughfare, was now virtually deserted, both a blessing and a bane as those traveling upon it noticed their fellow travelers and were themselves noticed. At least there were no roadblocks.

Several miles outside of Wuqing, Jun turned onto a rural road that skirts the city, rather than follow the highway through the downtown area. Here the countryside appeared much as it had before boom times brought skysc.r.a.pers, high-speed rail and expressways to the cities, a time when farmers traveled in homemade carts pulled by two wheel tractors resembling what are known in the West as roto-tillers and most of China still rode bicycles.

Brett took the opportunity to fill his lungs with fresh air laden with pungent fragrances from the surrounding marshlands and swamps. The land upon which sits present day Tianjin and the surrounding area was created in ancient times by the sedimentation of various rivers, including the Yellow River, as they emptied into Bohai Gulf. In 1404, the city was renamed Tianjin, meaning 'the Heavenly Ford' due to the fact that the emperor (Son of Heaven) had forded the river nearby.

Though now a hunted man, Brett was no longer a prisoner languishing in a bas.e.m.e.nt cell awaiting a hideous end. Thanks to his former guards he was armed with a 9mm double action automatic carrying 15 rounds and two spare magazines. If they intended to capture him this time, they would first pay in blood. And he was no longer alone. Four ex-US Navy Seals, one of whom was his brother-in-law, had turned the old delivery van into a formidable weapon. With two uniformed soldiers carrying Kalashnikovs as their ace in the hole, they had options. Regardless of what awaited them on the road ahead, these men would not disgrace their Seal brethren.

Every head in the van abruptly turned toward the buzzing satellite phone.

"Yeah," answered Jim.

"Norwood here," said the CIA station chief. "Beijing has been informed of the escape. You are now being actively hunted, though it sounds like they don't have a description of your vehicle."

"Game on," replied Jim. "Now we're gonna show 'em what US Navy Seals are all about. What about the hospital?"

"Looks like they brought part of the building down, how much we don't know at this point. It appears your friends managed to at least get out of the immediate area. How long they can remain free is questionable. I expect to see a strengthening of the cordon around the emba.s.sy soon; I'll let you know when that happens. How are you doing?"

"OK so far, but this is just the easy part," replied Jim.

"I don't think the amba.s.sador has been informed of the break out as yet. He's been preoccupied with the action on the South China Sea and the stonewalling of the Chinese government."

"What action?" asked Jim, taken by surprise.

"Two Chinese Navy frigates attempted to sink a couple of Vietnamese warships that were escorting an American owned container ship. The Vietnamese sank both."

"Whoa! Who'da believed they could do that?"

"There were two Chinese destroyers involved at first, but they peeled off to challenge the 7 Fleet. If they hadn't, the Vietnamese and the container ship would be history."

"Sounds like we may have a war on our hands?"

"No one is sure yet, but we'll know in the next couple of hours, if not sooner. Good luck and G.o.d speed." Jim set the sat phone next to him and opened the cell phone.

"Jun, they know were out here now, so heads up!"

"Did we destroy the hospital?"

"They brought down at least part of it."

Aboard the USS George Washington, satellite feed indicated that the Chinese were marshalling two squadrons of JH-7 fighter-bombers, a serious concern to the fleet since each is capable of carrying four anti-ship missiles. Meanwhile, the Vietnamese appeared ready to commit eight of their total of twelve SU-27 advanced fighters to protect their frigates. With both the Chinese destroyers and the Song-cla.s.s submarines nearing missile range, the United States had not been so close to war with another super-power since the Cuban missile crisis. But unlike that instance, when the president had allocated a ma.s.sive naval presence, the 7 Fleet found itself alone in hostile waters.

"I don't think they've picked up the Oklahoma City or the Buffalo yet, but they know the fleet always has attack submarines escorting it," Captain Johnson said to his XO. "But they don't know they're in the Hawaii's sights and they won't until it's too late. Unless they've got some diesel-electric subs sitting on the bottom, I think we can handle their naval a.s.sets; it's their air a.s.sets that worry me. If they blanket us with missiles from sh.o.r.e as well from the destroyers and aircraft, and they will, it's gonna get real busy around here."

"Have we heard anything yet from the Philippines?" asked the XO.

"They've given us landing rights if the carrier is too damaged to recover planes. That'll provide our pilots with a little extra peace of mind. I'm still having trouble with the idea that the Chinese are planning to start a war. I'd like to think they just intend to teach Vietnam a lesson and are bringing plenty of backup, but that doesn't square with the actions of President Li. Everything he's done so far points to a madman."

"Evidently no one's leaked the fact that we've been ordered not to defend the container ship," said the XO.

"If we can get it under our wing, then anything they throw at it I intend to interpret as an attack on the fleet. But it looks like we'll intersect with those destroyers and subs first. If I were standing on the bridge of either one, I'd be getting ready to kiss my a.s.s goodbye, 'cause there's no way either of 'em is gonna survive this. I'm going to throw so much at 'em they won't even see daylight between the missiles. We may not have backup, but we've got b.a.l.l.s and the Chinese are about to find out just how big they are."

"Admiral, tell me that your plan has been implemented and one American carrier battle group will soon be eliminated," President Li said, challenging Chen Lei.

"Our destroyers are closing and soon I will order the launch of our fighter-bombers. We will darken the sky with more missiles than any defensive system can possibly defeat."

"You are evading my question, Admiral," said Li, growing annoyed. "Will their carrier battle group be destroyed?"

"Given what was available on short notice, I cannot guarantee that, Mr. President."

"d.a.m.n it!" the president yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. "You were ordered to plan for their destruction, not a slap in the face. I would advise you to move heaven and Earth to ensure their demise or prepare for your own! Dismissed!"

Admiral Lei pa.s.sed one of the president's aides in the hall, the grim set of his lips testament to the message he bore. Hearing the door close, Li looked up, not speaking at first as he gauged the look on his aide's face. Finally he said: "Yes. What is it?"

Wishing he had a way to couch the news but having none and not wishing to annoy the president further, the aide simply blurted: "The American has escaped."

Slowly President Li stood, as if preparing to strike the aide down with a sword. Then abruptly he turned away, staring at the wall for several moments before turning again to look at the aide, his face a mask of rage.

"Tell those responsible that if he is not found by morning, they will be the next to go under the knife in Tianjin."

Li's message reached police and military units still bedeviled by a ridiculous medieval weapon that had brought many of them to a virtual standstill. Tanks had only just begun to take up positions at key choke points, and it would be several hours at the very least before he could once again a.s.sert any degree of control on the streets of the capitol.