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“We
had to do what we did, sir,” Cheshire said. “We couldn’t just sit back and
watch.”

 
          
“Guys,
I think it was a good decision to defend the Taiwanese ships and attack those
Chinese ships—Emil Vikram did not die in vain,” Samson said. “But I think we’re
going to get hammered for making it. What’s done is done. I think the Chinese
were going to use those nukes over Quemoy anyway, so everything that happened
was bound to happen anyway. As far as what happens to you ... well, we suck it
up and move on. Hell, I might be submitting
my
application to Jon Masters before the day’s out.”

           
“Wear a nice suit, Earthmover,”
Elliott said. “You’re gonna need it.”

           
“We’re not done here until I know
that Lieutenant Vikram didn’t die for nothing,” McLanahan said. “Support or
not, we’re not leaving the theater until we know the PLAN isn’t going to keep
on lobbing nukes at Taiwan or anyone else. There’s still no other U.S. forces
nearby that can oppose them—our five Megafortresses are the only heavy strike
group that can take on that carrier battle group.”

 
          
“That
decision will be made soon, Patrick,” Samson said. “I don’t think you’ll get
what you want.”

 
          
“Stop
thinking like a staff puke and start thinking like a warrior again,
Earthmover,” Brad Elliott said. “You might learn something.”

 
          
“Hey,
Brad, you might want to cool your jets a little bit before the brass gets on
the bird,” Samson said. “An attitude like that won’t win you any friends right
now. ”

 
          
“We
expect you to argue our case for us, sir,” McLanahan said. “Keep us in the
theater until the President decides what other forces he’s going to send in.”

 
          
“We’re
still operational, sir,” Cheshire added. “Tell ’em to send us back in. We’ve
proven we can do the job. If a war is going to start, if Quemoy is in danger of
being invaded, Taiwan will still need our help.”

 
          
Samson
shook his head, silently marveling at this group’s apparent cold-bloodedness.
Young stupid heroes, he decided. Flying into combat was all part of a day’s
work for them. Hell, McLanahan was probably the most levelheaded one of the
group, and he was ready to take another Megafortress back and twist the Chinese
dragon’s tail once again. “Your comments are noted, guys. Do what you need to
do on the ground to get your damaged plane ready to fly, but CINCPAC wants
patrols halted until they get the word from CINCPAC or the Joint Chiefs.”

 
          
“Oh,
goodie,” Elliott said sarcastically. “Hmmm. I wonder what
they’ll
say?”

 
          
“They’ll
ask, Brad, ‘Who authorized the launch of those Wolverine missiles?’ ” Samson
replied hotly. “They’ll ask, ‘How did Taiwan know our secure UHF synchronizer
codes?’ They’ll ask, ‘Was it was really necessary to launch attacks on almost a
dozen Chinese warships when it - would’ve been easier and safer for you to do
as you were ordered to do, do a one-eighty, and get the hell out?’

           
“You guys did a really great job out
there,” Samson concluded, with a definite weariness in his voice. “You proved
that the heavy bomber, properly loaded with the right high-tech weaponry, can
do a variety of missions over vast distances with speed, precision, and stealthiness.
But you all know the old maxim: one ‘oh shit’ will erase a hundred ‘attaboys.’
Sorry to say it, but I think you’re going to see the truth in that old saying
in just a few moments.”

 
          
It
stayed silent until an electronic tone warned the participants that new
conferees were linking into the system: now entering the conference, DR.
CHI-YANG SHIH, SECRETARY GENERAL, NATIONAL SECURITY COUNCIL, OFFICE OF THE
PRESIDENT, TAIPEI, REPUBLIC OF CHINA. NOW ENTERING THE CONFERENCE, ARTHUR
CHASTAIN, SECRETARY OF DEFENSE, WASHINGTON. CLASSIFICATION, TOP SECRET. ALL
CONFEREES NOTE, VOICE AND DATA IS NOW TERMINATED; CHECK OPERATIONAL SECURITY,
THEN enter your security code to continue. There was a slight pause as
videoconference administrators double-checked security for their rooms and
reentered their security codes; then the computer acknowledged, THANK YOU. FULL
VIDEOCONFERENCE FEATURES ACTIVATED.

 
          
“General
Samson, folks, Dr. Chi-yang Shih asked to join us for a few moments on this
videoconference,” Secretary of Defense Chastain began. “Dr. Chi-yang, please go
ahead.”

 
          
“Thank
you, Secretary Chastain,” Chi-yang Shih said. Dr. Chi-yang was in his late
fifties but looked considerably younger. He wore gold- rimmed round spectacles,
making his round face appear even rounder, but his tailored suit gave him a
definite air of authority. “General Elliott, Colonel McLanahan, Major Cheshire,
it is indeed a pleasure to speak to all of you. On behalf of President Lee
Teng-hui and my fellow citizens of the Republic of China, I wish to express my
deepest heartfelt gratitude from my nation for your work, and our deepest
sympathy for your loss of your fellow crew member. Your efforts resulted in
saving hundreds of lives on Quemoy Tao. Because of you, the islands defenses
are still viable. I promise you, the prayers of millions of my people, and
especially the prayers of sixty thousand of your fellow soldiers on Quemoy Tao,
will be with you and Lieutenant Vikram tonight and for all time.”

 
          
“Viable?
How is that possible, sir?” McLanahan asked. “The explosion . . . ?”

 
          
“Was
at an altitude of approximately eight kilometers and at least fifteen
kilometers south of the city of Shatou, thanks to you and your fellow airmen,”
Chi-yang replied. “It appears that the missiles fired from your aircraft
destroyed the Chinese M-ll missiles while in flight, resulting in a
partial-yield nuclear explosion, around the order of five to six kilotons.
Damage was limited to overpressure and did not include thermal or blast damage,
and we feel radiation deaths and casualties will be minimal as well.
Unfortunately, the crew of the
Km Men
was not as fortunate.”

 
          
“My
God,” McLanahan muttered. All three airmen finally appeared to relax. They
realized how very, very fortunate they and the people on Quemoy were.

 
          
“Communications
have been disrupted in the area because of the blast, and there were some
casualties, but there was only minor damage to the island’s defense systems,”
Chi-yang went on. “In addition, our island garrisons are mostly underground, so
our forces are safe. If the Communists attempt an invasion, they will still
find a most formidable force opposing them.”

 
          
“With
all due respect, sir, that carrier battle group is still dangerous,” Elliott
said. “They sank two of your best warships, and they can still mount a deadly
invasion force against Quemoy. ”

 
          
“Thanks
to your brave efforts, it appears that the Communist fleet has stopped its
northward progress and may even be withdrawing from the area,” Chi-yang
replied. “It is true, Quemoy has been crippled, but the Communists will not
test our resolve. It even appears that the carrier battle group is being
recalled all the way to Hong Kong, and that the ground and rocket forces along
the Formosa Strait have been stood down. A major catastrophe has been averted
because of you, and I again wish to thank you most sincerely. ”

 
          
“Dr.
Chi-yang, was the captain of the
Km Men
ordered to go out there and take on that carrier battle group all by itself?”
McLanahan asked.

           
Chi-yang paused for a long moment,
then sighed, lifted his shoulders, and responded, “Captain Sung’s orders were
to make contact with the Communists’ battle group and warn them not to approach
Quemoy Tao. We do not know why he opened fire on the battle group—and
unfortunately, we may never know. He may have believed that the firepower
provided by your aircraft could protect him. It matters little now, because we
believe that it was the PLAN’s intention to attack with nuclear weapons in any
case—in which case, Captain Sung and his crew will be hailed as national heroes
for saving Quemoy Tao. As you will be.

 
          
“Before
I terminate this conference, my friends, I must tell you,” Chi- yang went on,
his voice choked by emotion now, “that my father was a deputy liaison to
General Claire Lee Chennault and the American Volunteer Group, whom you call
the Flying Tigers, during the Great War of Liberation with imperial Japan. He
assisted many brave American Flying Tiger fighter pilots to survive and fight
to keep the Burma Road open in our struggle against the Nipponese empire,
before America entered the Great War of Liberation.

 
          
“I
am struck by the similarities between that time, sixty years ago, and now. We
Nationalists are no longer in control of the mainland, as before, but the
aggressors are our own brothers, their minds tainted by the ugly stain of
communism. But we and you, our American friends, are still comrades in arms
now, just as we were then—even in secret, as it was then. General Samson,
General Elliott, Colonel McLanahan, Major Cheshire, you and your fellow
aviators are America’s new Flying Tigers, protecting the weak against the
menace of imperialism and Communist dictatorship. I am proud to continue my
father’s great mission. Thank you again, my young American friends. Call on me
whenever you need assistance, and it shall be yours. I am your servant.” The
connection from Taiwan terminated with the computerized voice announcing, NOW
departing, DR. CHI-YANG SHIH, TAIPEI, REPUBLIC OF CHINA.

 
          
The
videoconference screen was blank as Dr. Chi-yang departed; when security was
restored in Washington, Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman Admiral George Balboa
was on the hookup from the Pentagon, along with Admiral Frederick Cowen, the
chief of naval operations. “Very, very touching,” Balboa began acidly. “You did
it again, Brad, you old son of a bitch. You screw up in the worst possible way,
ignore orders, start firing missiles all over the damn sky, and you precipitate
a damned
nuclear attack,
and somehow
you have world leaders kissing your boots and comparing you to the Flying
Tigers. Incredible.”

 
          
“Kinda
makes you want to slit your own wrists right now, doesn’t it, George?” Elliott
said with his irritating little grin.

 
          
“You
will
shut your mouth
right now,
Elliott,” Balboa shouted angrily, pointing at the videoconference camera. “What
the ROC government thinks of you right now doesn’t carry one ounce of water
with me! You deliberately violated direct orders from me, the National Command
Authority, and CINCPAC to hold fire and withdraw. You are more than just a menace,
Elliott, you are a
disgrace
to any
American who has ever worn a uniform.”

 
          
“General
Elliott had nothing to do with what we did over there, Admiral Balboa,”
McLanahan said. “I was the mission commander on that flight, I gave the orders
to launch, and I’m responsible for the death of Emil Vikram.”

 
          
“Don’t
forget the deaths of five hundred Taiwanese sailors, an estimated three hundred
Taiwanese civilians on Quemoy, and dozens of deaths and injuries aboard the
Chinese warships,” Balboa interjected. “You’re responsible for all of them! ”
McLanahan’s shoulders sank, as if he had just been reminded of a painful event
in his life. “You’re going to have to live with all that, Mr. McLanahan. Even
though I can absolve myself by reminding myself that I never sanctioned this
mission and never thought you should be involved, I too will have to live with
the horror of all those lives lost.”

 
          
“Why
don’t you just be a total asshole and completely wash your hands of the whole
thing, George?” Elliott retorted. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

 
          
“What
I would like even better is to shut you down, have those planes cut up into
little pieces, and throw you in prison,” Balboa said. “There is a question of
how the Taiwanese found out so much about this operation, and I have a feeling
you were responsible for that. As for this operation, it looks as if the
President wants to continue this foolhardy plan. If the loss of one of your
airframes and Lieutenant Vikram poses a problem, Mr. McLanahan, I expect you to
report promptly to Admiral Allen so we can make alternate arrangements.”

 
          
“A
replacement crew and plane is being ferried from Blytheville as we speak,”
McLanahan said. “It’ll arrive in about twenty hours. But we can maintain a
normal schedule right now.”

BOOK: Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06
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