Dancing with the Dragon (2002) (24 page)

As the helicopters slowed to a hover, both navy rescue swimmers motioned for the crewmen to abandon the badly listing ship and swim clear. Panicked, the men again tried to launch a lifeboat. They stopped when seawater began sloshing over the main deck.

The cargo ship was in the final throes of dying when a third Sea-hawk helicopter arrived. With little warning, the Kapitan Zhirnovsky commenced a very slow roll to port and began to slip below the waves. A minute later, the bow dipped beneath the ocean and the stern rose out of the water.

The crew, with no other option, umped into the water and swam as hard as they could to get away from their ship. One at a time, the three helos dropped down to rescue survivors, until there was only one man left. When the SH-60B moved in closer to the crewman, the Kapitan Zhirnovsky exploded a final time as the trapped air and gases blew the stern open.

The huge concussion rocked the helicopter and forced the pilot to make another approach. The ship disappeared under the ocean while the helo hoisted the sailor aboard. With all the survivors safely in the helicopters, the Seahawks set course for USS Abraham Lincoln.

MCAS Miramar

When Scott cleared the taxiway and brought the Harrier to a smooth halt next to their spare TAV-8B, he and Jackie noticed Juanita Trujillo patiently waiting for them. The slight woman appeared to be relaxed and unaffected by the tragic confrontation with the Chinese.

Scott keyed the ICS. "You think she's my escort to the firing squad?"

"Well, she isn't armed."

Scott began shutting down the jet. "Getting into hot water is always a lot easier than getting out."

She unfastened her kneeboard. "Let's close the shop and find out how much trouble we're in."

"You're not in any trouble."

"Both of us were up there. And both of us know that we brought the Phantom in too low."

After securing the Harrier, Jackie and Scott climbed down and greeted Juanita. She quickly assured them that President Macklin and Hartwell Prost were very pleased with the operation, notwithstanding the sinking of the cargo ship.

"According to the president," Juanita said, "the loss of control over the Phantom was an accident caused by his excessive enthusiasm. He made it very clear that you and Mr. Craine are not at fault."

Nothing else was said after they drove away from the flight line.

When they reached the hangar, Hartwell's navy Huron utility transport was just arriving. Prost stepped off the military version of the popular turboprop and explained that Wyatt Craine was staying on San Nicolas Island to complete the accident report. Prost talked with Juanita for a few minutes, then joined Jackie and Scott in a private office in the hangar.

"Well," Hartwell began as the threesome sat down at a conference table, "it's good that we now have two Washington-Moscow hot lines to try to avoid misunderstandings and surprises."

Scott and Jackie looked perplexed.

"The State Department is using one of the lines to read from our Official Apology Manual while the president is on a secure line trying to calm Beijing and Moscow. The ship sank, and we're pretty sure the Russians are in bed with the Red Chinese on this laser weapon system."

"How many casualties?" Scott asked.

"We don't know." Hartwell removed the new brown leather flight jacket the Marines had given him. "Three navy helos rescued nine survivors. However, before they could get them to the carrier, the Chinese ambassador, the Chinese foreign minister, the Russian foreign minister, and the Russian prime minister were screaming bloody murder. They wanted the survivors flown directly to Long Beach and turned over to Chinese authorities. The word immediately was used often and loudly, along with a constant reminder that no one was to attempt to interrogate the crewmen."

Scott's head sagged and then he looked up. "Well, I made a mess of things--don't know if we can keep our role secret."

"Let us deal with it," Hartwell said. "No doubt the Phantom did extensive damage to the ship; however, we believe there were explosive charges placed at strategic locations to make sure the ship would sink before prying eyes could see what was inside."

"I don't doubt it," Jackie said.

"Beijing sent a strongly worded message to the White House and the State Department to inform us that a Chinese salvage vessel would soon be over the site of the sinking. Their foreign minister has made it clear that Beijing will not tolerate any interference."

"It may be a diplomatic mess," Jackie said, "but we now have proof that the Chinese are using some type of laser-based weapon to bring down airplanes--U. S. warplanes."

Hartwell's sour expression gave him away. "Unfortunately, we don't have a recorded event. We need a video or a series of pictures, where a laser beam actually strikes an aircraft and destroys it.

Jackie sensed something was wrong. "Are you saying we risked our lives for nothing? We have video."

"No, that's not what I'm saying. We wanted them to shoot down the drone, but the aerobatic maneuvers seemed to cause a problem with the laser locking on to the plane."

Scott caught Hartwell's attention. "You think it's manually aimed and not radar locked?"

"Maybe, at this stage of development, but it won't be too long before they adapt to using radar. Then we'll have a bigger problem." "So, where do we go from here?" Jackie asked.

Hartwell seemed to perk up. "Let me set the stage, then we'll discuss our options. As I've told you, we have a lot of geostrategic problems bubbling to the surface. Over the past two days, we quietly extracted our ambassador to China, his immediate staff, and his security detail. The Chinese discovered it about two hours before you took off this evening."

Hartwell poured himself a glass of ice water. "Our spacecraft detected heavy message traffic between the Chinese ships and Beijing, and between Beijing and Moscow. After the encounter with the Chen Ziyang, headquarters in Beijing forbade the master of the Kapitan Zhirnovsky to fire his laser. It was okay to use the decoy, whatever it is, but the order was clear about not firing the laser."

Prost drank half the glass of water. "We have a dangerous dance going on with the China-Taiwan situation, and the Koreas are on the brink of open warfare. Either situation could trigger a reaction from the other powder keg and cause open warfare in the region."

"Are any of our carriers in the area yet?" Scott asked.

"The Kitty Hawk will be on station shortly in the Taiwan Strait, and Roosevelt will be in the South China Sea before too long."

Hartwell fell silent for a moment, the strain of his responsibility showing in his eyes. "The president is calling for an emergency meeting in Bangkok. He wants to work with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations and its Asian and Pacific partners to try to mend fences with China and Russia. He knows this is going to be tantamount to playing football in a minefield, but he is determined to try this approach."

A smile touched Hartwell's mouth. "Although President Macklin wants to mend the rift with China, he has no intention of giving Beijing an inch of ground. In fact, he wants to go to Bangkok with overwhelming evidence to show all the ASEAN partners that Beijing is fielding a very destabilizing laser-based weapon system. He also wants the world to know how China gained the knowledge and expertise to develop the weapon system."

"Why do I suddenly feel uncomfortable?" Scott asked. Hartwell's expression turned serious. "We don't have much time. The president needs an answer by tomorrow morning." "To what?" Scott asked. "Sir, it isn't like you to be evasive." Prost sat upright. "Would you consider parachuting onto the
Chen Ziyang at night and documenting what's on board?" Scott and Jackie were astonished.

Hartwell turned to Jackie. "We want your help too."

Dalton at first stifled a laugh but allowed a small grin to spread across his lips. "You're kidding . . . of course," he said, and locked Prost in his gaze. "Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not kidding," he said with a straight face. "As you know, all of your records since the military--along with Jackie's records--have been completely sanitized."

Scott glanced at Jackie and saw the concern in her eyes.

"We can't have any fingerprints leading to anyone in the administration, or pointing to any agency in the government. Scott, this is exactly the kind of operation we had in mind when we asked you to leave the Agency. This has to be a stealth operation, clean and neat with no congressional questions until after the president confronts Liu Fan-ding in front of the world."

Taken aback, Scott was calculating the odds of a successful jump and a safe means of escaping.

"You can write your own ticket, buy a new jet, whatever you want," Hartwell said, and looked at Sullivan. "The same for you, Jackie. Just let me know what equipment you'll need."

"Mr. Prost, would you mind if I discuss this with Jackie before we give you an answer?"

"I insist that you do." Hartwell rose from his chair. "However, I'll need an answer bright and early in the morning, before I fly back to Washington."

"Yes, sir."

Hartwell donned his cap and adjusted it. "How about breakfast at the club, say seven sharp."

"That'd be great," Jackie said.

After Hartwell left the office, Jackie and Scott stared at each other for a long moment and then laughed at the same time. "We can move up from a Bonanza to a jet," Scott said with the parachute jump still playing on his mind. "What do you think?" "We?"

"As in the two of us--you and me."

"How about taking me to dinner?"

"Let's go," Scott said with a grin.

"I think I need a Manhattan."

"You got it," he said with excitement in his voice. "We have a tough decision to make."

Jackie rose from her chair and pulled Scott to his feet. " You have a tough decision, my friend. I'm not the one who has to parachute onto a Chinese ship in the middle of the night."

The Panama Canal

After the strategic waterway was returned to Panamanian control at noon on December 31, 1999, another December day that will live in infamy, the Red Chinese military became the de facto gatekeepers of the ports at the Atlantic and Pacific ends of the big ditch.

Hutchison Whampoa Limited, of Hong Kong, a powerful conglomerate with strong ties to the Chinese government and the People's Liberation Army, won underhanded contracts to operate the critical ports of Cristobal and Balboa. The deceitful and lucrative twenty-five-year lease, along with the optional twenty-five-year extension, were a cause of great concern in many circles, including the Pentagon.

The unorthodox bidding, along with shiploads of money from China to Panamanian government officials, provided a means for the Red Chinese to delay or stop expedited treatment normally reserved for U. S. warships.

One of the most strategic choke points on the globe was transferred from the most powerful nation on earth to a small Third World country with a population of 2.8 million people. This major international asset was now controlled by a corrupt communist power.

Because Panama no longer had a military, Beijing quietly began moving thousands of Chinese soldiers into the Panama Canal Zone. They did this on the pretext of protecting Hutchison Whampoa civilian employees from roving bands of Colombian insurgents, drug traffickers, and the guerrillas of the Marxist Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia.

With more than 83,000 Chinese nationals and 12,800 Chinese troops dispersed in the ten-mile-wide swath across the Isthmus of Panama, Beijing was using the former Howard Air Force Base and the Rodman Naval Station to base warplanes, missiles, bombs, submarines, and warships only nine hundred miles from U. S. soil.

Under the vacuous and controversial Panama Canal Neutrality, Treaty signed in 1977, the United States reserved the right to intervene militarily if the canal was threatened or invaded. President Macklin, Hartwell Prost, the secretary of defense, and the joint chiefs were secretly making contingency plans to deal with the growing Chinese military force in Panama.

Over the Gulf of Panama

Based at Biggs Army Airfield, Fort Bliss, Texas, the de Havilland RC-7 reconnaissance plane was approaching Panama City three hours before dawn. Though ostensibly it was a U. S. counternarcotics aircraft, a National Defense Authorization Act had expanded the charter of Joint Task Force Six to conduct counterinsurgency missions and to keep a watchful eye on Colombian guerrillas and the Red Chinese in the area of the canal.

Packed with sophisticated intelligence equipment for the interception of radio and mobile phone communications, the four-engine turboprop RC-7 could gather burst communications, the latest digital voice encryptions, or low-probability-of-intercept signals and transmit them to the National Security Agency for analysis.

The flight crew also shared information with more than three hundred covert operatives from the Drug Enforcement Administration and the CIA. The mission was the Pentagon's biggest covert operation in Latin America.

Eight miles from Balboa, at an altitude of seven thousand feet, the reconnaissance aircraft made a slight course correction to follow the Panama Canal from Bahia de Panama to Bahia Limon at the entrance to the Caribbean Sea. The winding, slate-black fifty-one-mile lake-and-lock waterway was easy to see in the ivory-and gold moonlight.