Lethal Trajectories (5 page)

Retired four-star admiral William McElroy Coxen loved his role as chairman of the NSC and SWAT team facilitator. He consciously cultivated an aura reminiscent of that of the late General George C. Marshall, and his stern presence commanded respect—even fear—although he seldom raised his voice. Joining him on the SWAT team were Vice President Clayton McCarty; Secretary of Defense Thurmond Thompson; Secretary of State Elizabeth Cartright; CIA Director Anthony T. Mullen; General Warner Blake, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; and George Gleason, the president’s chief of staff. Ad hoc members were invited as needed, and the entire NSC met on a semiregular basis. Burkmeister had promised the SWAT team they would be used sparingly, but he insisted that, if called, they drop everything and get over to the Situation Room immediately or teleconference in if they were away from the capital.

The Situation Room was the official arena of the NSC and SWAT team. It was far more than just a
room.
Occupying some five thousand square feet of space in the basement of the West Wing, it was the nerve center for White House intelligence and its crisis decision-making apparatus. Its state-of-the-art communication systems allowed the president to maintain command and control of U.S. forces around the world and to talk to anyone, anytime, globally—through interpreters if necessary. This was Admiral Coxen’s world and, as usual, he was the first to arrive for the scheduled meeting.

The entire SWAT team was seated in the Situation Room when President Lyman Burkmeister entered the room promptly at six o’clock. With only a perfunctory nod of greeting, he said, “Admiral Coxen, suppose you tell us what this Chunxiao incident is all about.”

“Yes sir, Mr. President, it’s an ugly situation,” he replied in a voice and manner that conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

“At 0030 hours, Beijing time, on Thursday, 14 September—that would be 1230 hours today in Washington, signals intelligence picked up on a naval battle transpiring in the East China Sea between China and Japan. Subsequent SIGINT intelligence revealed that the battle took place north of Taiwan above an oil-rich seabed known as the Chunxiao gas-oil field. The Chinese lost a new oil platform called the
Dragon II,
and the Japanese lost two destroyers, two oil platforms, and a drilling ship under retaliatory fire.” The admiral had everyone’s full attention.

“We are not certain of all details at this point, but we do know that a Japanese destroyer hit a sea mine while approaching the
Dragon II
platform and that triggered the battle. Whether or not it was an accident we don’t know, but the ensuing battle destroyed assets on both sides and resulted in significant loss of life.

“It didn’t take China and Japan long to put their entire armed forces on the highest military alerts. We’ve also observed an increased level of diplomatic and military radio traffic, but we have yet to decipher it.”

As the admiral continued, President Burkmeister looked over at Clayton McCarty with an expression that clearly said “this doesn’t look good.”

“SNS picked up the story and it’s headlining already. One can only imagine what it will do to the Asian financial markets and, of course, our own markets by tomorrow morning.”

Burkmeister leaned back in awe, processing what he had just heard.
It’s amazing,
he thought,
how small the world has become; how an isolated incident like this, occurring in a far-off ocean in the wee hours of the morning, could erupt into a global-news headline story only hours after it happened.

“Admiral,” he said, “any idea what might have precipitated the incident?”

“It’s hard to say, Mr. President, but the Sino-Japanese conflict in the East China Sea has been a work in progress for many years. Many of us felt it was only a matter of time before their issues erupted into a shooting war.”

“Please remind me, Admiral, of the ‘issues’ with bearing on the current situation.”

“As you are aware, Mr. President, Japan and China have argued for decades over the delineation of their respective exclusive economic zones. The Law of the Seas doctrine, as set out by the UN, sets the boundary of a nation’s EEZ at two hundred nautical miles away from their baseline. Problem is, Japan considers its baseline to be its coast, while China considered its baseline to be the continental shelf, which adds significantly to the amount of territory it can claim. However, even if they agreed on baseline definitions, they would still have a problem: since the East China Sea is only about 360 nautical miles wide, there’s an overlap of about forty miles of disputed area that consists of about forty thousand square kilometers of contested ocean. Now, here’s the real kicker: the epicenter of the contested area is located in the Chunxiao region—an area containing a huge oil/gas reservoir that lies between 3,300 and 6,500 feet below the surface along a 620-mile-long trough. The fields have an estimated reserve potential in the area of eighteen billion barrels of oil and 360 billion cubic feet of natural gas. I don’t need to tell you how strategically important this is to both countries. Parenthetically, the EEZ question is not unique to the East China Sea. We have a similar issue brewing now in the Arctic region regarding ownership of mineral rights for resources exposed by the disappearing ice caps.”

He stopped his presentation for a moment as an aide approached the president and whispered something in his ear. The president nodded and waved the aide off, saying, “Go ahead, Admiral, please continue your briefing.”

“The Chinese recognized the potential of this find early on and in 2006 set up what was known as the Chunxiao gas platform, about four kilometers from the EEZ median line. Both nations grudgingly accepted the EEZ line even as they contested it. Japan claimed the platform was extracting gas from deposits under the Japanese EEZ and requested a geologic audit. The Chinese said no dice. The Japanese then sent in their own geologic ship to take surveys, and the Chinese quickly sent a couple of warships out to discourage them. The Japanese geologic ship pulled out, but later the Japanese positioned their own oil platforms and drilling ships about ten kilometers inside their side of the EEZ. This didn’t please the Chinese, but what could they say when their rigs were far closer to the EEZ median line than Japan’s?”

“About one month ago, the Chinese floated into place a massive new sixth-generation oil platform known as
Dragon II.
It is the beast of all platforms, built in the Cosco Shipyard in Shanghai, and it was to be China’s showcase platform, designed to attract markets for deepwater platform leasing all over the world. Problem is they moved it into a position that was far closer to the contested median line than ever before—roughly two kilometers. The Japanese were furious and had planned to make it an issue at the UN Security Council.”

The president looked up from the notes he was taking and said, “Let me summarize what I think you just said, Admiral: two great nations in dire need of oil and gas—like all of us—have escalated their concerns into a shooting war over a disputed border that lies a mile under the ocean. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s about right, Mr. President. We don’t know the full extent of the damages yet, nor do we have a feel for whether one or both sides will escalate this into a larger war. I expect information on potential developments within the next twelve to twenty-four hours, but for now I just don’t know.”

The heated discussion that followed revolved around a number of what-if scenarios. The president found it useful, but he still had no clear idea of how to respond to the calls he expected to receive from leaders of both countries. When he broached that issue, he triggered yet another testy discussion as to what each of the two sides would ask of the United States.

“Folks,” Burkmeister said, “I truly appreciate your insights. It’s clear that we don’t know where either country will go from here—at least for now. Nothing we can do about that. About all we can do for now is upgrade the alert level of our military forces, continue collecting every possible scrap of intel we can, and be prepared for whatever deals Japan and China will attempt to make.” Looking down on his notes, he said, “Let me recap what we’ve got so far. Japan will probably appeal to us, as a long-time partner in the Pacific, to side with them. That might take the form of a strong statement in their favor, declaring our mutual friendship. They might call on us to send elements of the Seventh Fleet to support them in a joint naval action against China. Depending on their losses, they might ask us to help make good on the oil they lost from their sunken platforms. For sure, they’ll ask us to use our influence with other Western powers to condemn China in the UN.”

He paused, grimacing in pain, and had to regain his train of thought. The attendees looked on with concern.

“With regard to China, we can expect they’ll threaten to use their economic leverage against us if we don’t do certain things. What specifically, we don’t know, but we can assume they’ll press us to take a stand against Japan or, at a minimum, remain neutral as the two countries sort it out. They’ll ask us to use our influence to ensure the West does not mobilize against them, call for trade sanctions or a reprimand in the UN—that sort of thing. Does that about sum it up, folks?”

As his team agreed, Burkmeister looked at his watch and said, “It’s been a long day, and this thing is just starting to unfold. Let’s get everyone working this from every angle and reconvene at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. Let’s keep a lid on our response: instruct your staffs to respond to any news inquiries with the usual ‘we are studying the issue and have no comments at this time’ statement, and limit your conversations on this to those with a need to know. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thanks so much for coming.”

Secretary of Defense Thompson interjected, “Mr. President, how will you respond to either Prime Minister Sato Itsuke or Chairman Lin Cheng if they call you?”

Lyman Burkmeister, president of the United States and perhaps still the most powerful man in the free world, looked down for a moment, took a deep breath, and said, “I honestly can’t tell you just now. All I know is that they may well be among the most important conversations I’ll ever have as your president. I’m expecting their calls within the next twelve hours, and I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot of reflecting and praying before those calls come in.”

L
yman Burkmeister looked at the clock and contemplated getting up, even though it was only 4:45 in the morning. Since turning in at 11:30 last night, his body and soul had faced an all-out assault from his subconscious mind and the gremlins occupying his body. He couldn’t shut off the replays—from every conceivable angle—of his contentious conversation with Prime Minister Sato Itsuke of Japan. The gremlins had attacked his body with excruciating stomach pains and the mother of all hot flashes. The day had not yet begun, and he was spent.

A hot shower provided a modicum of relief from the fatigue and the clammy feeling he had throughout the night, but the stomach cramps continued unabated. He listened to three news stations while getting dressed, and it was clear that the Chunxiao Incident had generated a trail of financial carnage in the Asian and European markets. The economic tsunami would soon hit Wall Street, and the thought made him shudder.

He had been working in the Oval Office for about half an hour when the expected call from Chairman Lin Cheng was put through. Taking a few deep breaths, he girded himself for the ordeal he was sure would follow.

“Good morning—or should I say good evening, Chairman Lin. How are you?” Burkmeister opened, feeling a slight stomach pain as he awaited an answer.

“I am doing fine, Mr. President,” Lin replied in a soft and sincere voice, “and thank you for taking my call.”

The next few minutes were spent exchanging pleasantries as each man gauged the mettle of the other. It was a friendly, collegial conversation that contrasted sharply with the contentious call he had last night with Sato, and Burkmeister felt comfortable waiting for Lin to state the purpose of his call. He sensed that Lin also appreciated his patience.

“Mr. President,” said Lin—Burkmeister braced himself for the onslaught—“I am calling to discuss with you the Chunxiao conflict that has arisen between China and Japan.”

“Please go on, Chairman Lin. I thought that was why you were calling, and I am most interested in hearing your perspectives on this unfortunate incident.”
So far so good,
he thought.

Lin Cheng spent the next few minutes methodically explaining events from the data China had been able to gather. Burkmeister appreciated the calm and noncontentious presentation Lin was making, and he agreed that everything Lin said tracked with the intelligence he had been given by the CIA.

“I am not trying to sell you a bill of goods, Mr. President. These are the facts as we understand them, but I would expect you would want to cross check them with those of your own intelligence sources. I believe you will find them to be accurate.”

“Thank you for your account, Chairman Lin,” Burkmeister replied, mentally comparing Lin’s rendition with the serious errors of commission and omission in Sato’s version last night. “Where do you see things going from here, and what does China expect from the United States?” he added.

“I won’t lie to you, Mr. President.” Lin responded, remembering Wang Peng’s advice, “There are those on the Politburo who are pushing hard for aggressive military action against Japan. Frankly, it has not been easy to keep a lid on it, but then I’m sure you must feel the same sorts of pressure from your Congress.” Burkmeister silently chuckled, feeling a kinship with Lin as he thought about the likes of Senator Tom Collingsworth.

“I understand what you are saying, Chairman Lin, and I appreciate the challenges you must have in seeking a peaceful settlement. Is there anything the United States can do to help you keep the peace?”

Lin sounded grateful as he said, “I appreciate your empathy, Mr. President, and I would ask one thing of you.”