Shattered Trident (42 page)

Myles motioned for them to take seats, and Leong gratefully sat down again, with the president close by on his right. Alvarez stood near the door, as if to guard against eavesdroppers.

Even as they sat, Leong began what had to be a carefully rehearsed speech. “Mr. President, at 9:00
A.M.
your time today, which is 9:00
P.M.
in Taipei, President Lee will announce that the Republic of China is abandoning its state of neutrality and joining the Littoral Alliance.”

Myles stared at the ambassador, absorbing the news for a moment, before speaking. “I can see the need for secrecy.”

Nodding toward Myles, Leong explained, “We felt obligated to notify our longtime American friends, but at the same time we cannot let Beijing learn of our decision until our preparations are complete. Our armed forces have been at combat alert since the Littoral Alliance began its submarine campaign, but we have taken extra steps.”

Leong’s explanation had given Myles the time he needed to organize his thoughts. “Mr. Ambassador, are you sure that this course of action is fully supported by your entire government? Once you’ve done this, any chance of a peaceful accommodation with Mainland China will be gone forever.”

“With respect, Mr. President, our ‘peaceful accommodation’ with the mainland has turned the Republic of China into an armed camp. And what do we have to look forward to? Hong Kong has shown us the value of Beijing’s promises. No, the Littoral Alliance is winning, and the sooner it is victorious, the better. A humbled mainland will give us the freedom that they will not now.”

Myles shook his head. “That may be true, but she is not defeated yet. My intelligence people have noted that the military units across the straits from your country have remained in place.”

“We have been watching those same units for a long time, Mr. President. They are a hollow threat, and may be more defensive than offensive. Fully involved in one war, with her economy near breaking, she will not embark on any new adventures. I am sure the United States military will not be needed to defend our security.”

“We have been guaranteeing that security for decades,” Myles observed.

“But the situation is changing. The Littoral Alliance is on the path to becoming a new superpower, with its roots and interests in Asia. We belong with them. And we will remember who supported us for so long. But I agree, Mr. President. Beijing will not ignore us. While there will be inevitable damage, in the long run, we feel this is the better choice.”

Leong stood suddenly. “I must excuse myself, Mr. President. I have other calls to make before nine o’clock.”

As Myles stood, Leong produced a folded document and handed it to Myles. “As partial recompense for the distress our actions will regrettably cause, this is a list of Chinese agents we know of operating covertly in your borders. The information is reliable. The sources that provided it have been withdrawn. We are ‘burning our bridges.’”

Myles took the document carefully, almost reluctantly. “I wish I could agree with your reasoning, Ambassador Leong.” He reached out to shake the ambassador’s hand, and said, “Please be assured of America’s continued friendship, and our best wishes for the future of the Republic of China.”

They both then bowed, and Alvarez escorted the ambassador out.

Myles sat quietly, considering the implications this move would have on an already volatile region. He didn’t have long to wait before there was a quick rap on the door, and Alvarez opened it for a breathless secretary of state. “Milt said the Taiwanese ambassador was here.”

Myles nodded. “They’re joining the Littoral Alliance.”

“Crap.” Lloyd’s face fell. “Think the Chinese will leave them alone?”

“Not a chance.” Myles glanced at his watch. “He’s given us forty-eight minutes. Let’s not waste them.”

8 September 2016

2200 Local Time

Littoral Alliance Headquarters

Okutama, Nishitama District

Tokyo, Japan

The Hirano estate included a garden, more correctly a forest glade, but beautifully tended. Komamura had been encouraged, no, commanded by Admiral Kubo and several others to take time there at least once a day. He was spending too much time indoors.

Now he sat on a roughly carved stone bench, sharing tea with the new Malaysian minister. Someone different seemed to show up every evening at about the same time, offering to walk with him and chat about anything other than the war or economics. Minister Azhar was a rabid soccer fan, but Komamura barely followed the sport …

“
Sensei
!” Komamura heard her voice before he saw her. She was still calling excitedly when she turned a corner and found them. It was Miyazaki, flushed and excited, and wearing another shapeless tracksuit. “
Sensei
…” She stopped to bow deeply. “Please excuse me,
sensei,
Minister. Please come to the dining room right away. It’s very big news!” Barely allowing time for the sound waves to reach them, she ran off, presumably in search of other unsuspecting victims.

“We’d better go back,” Azhar suggested, and the pair headed for the main house.

They could soon hear excited voices, then staff and other alliance functionaries greeted them with broad smiles, and urged them toward the dining room.

The large central room had been filled with tables. A wide-screen television at one end of the room was kept on the news, normally with the sound muted. Komamura could hear the set now, though. “… have taken this action in the belief that Mainland Chinese aggression can no longer…” They were speaking in Chinese, but he could see the text at the bottom scrolling in English, and on the right side in Japanese.

As he stood in the back, someone recognized Komamura and urged him forward. Kubo and Hisagi both spotted the commotion around him and waved. Advancing silently and half crouched, he discovered they’d saved a space for him in the center front, almost too close to the screen. At the back of the room, people continued to pour in, and he could sense an air of celebration. Had the Chinese abruptly surrendered?

Kubo saw the question in his expression and whispered, “The broadcast started exactly on the hour, 9:00
P.M.
in Taipei.” Kubo stopped and smiled. It was the happiest he’d ever seen the admiral. “They’ve joined us,
sensei
! Taiwan is joining the alliance. Our encirclement is complete!”

Hisagi leaned over from the other side. “I just heard from the communications department. Their delegation to the alliance is already en route. They’ll be landing at Narita in a little over an hour!”

Ever since he’d realized that the alliance might actually come to be, Komamura had struggled with the question of Taiwan. Normally, the more members that belong to an alliance, the stronger it becomes. And Taiwan not only had a small, but capable navy, it had economic power, and was a major trading partner with both Mainland China and the West.

But Beijing still considered Taiwan a “rebellious territory,” part of China. It had long been accepted that if Taipei ever formally declared independence, it would trigger a long-dreaded invasion of the island. This was worse than mere separation. Taiwan had joined in a war against her “mother country.” Beijing would—must—react.

By joining, Taiwan added her military power, economic power, and political power to an already complex set of simultaneous equations. Komamura didn’t think anyone truly could comprehend how all the variables would work together—he certainly did not. How would the results from those equations change?

The professor watched his colleagues. Kubo was almost euphoric. Why couldn’t he share their excitement? All he could see was the danger. Suddenly weak, he sat back in his chair, forcing a smile and trying to follow the subtitles. Information. He needed to know the details.

The Taiwanese minister had finished his prepared remarks, and was answering questions, still in Chinese. The image shrank to an inset and was replaced with two Japanese analysts. Komamura listened to them repeat the obvious facts for a few moments, but then one held up a map of the western Pacific. Tracing arcs with a pen, he drew a single line from Indonesia in the south to Hokkaido in the north, all of it controlled by the Littoral Alliance.

China’s access to the open sea was now completely blocked. She’d tried to seize the resources in the South China Sea, with future designs on the East China Sea. Instead, those two and the Yellow Sea were now war zones.

It was getting harder to find worthwhile targets at sea for the alliance forces to destroy. They’d already started attacking China’s oil processing infrastructure on land, but while the professional military figures agreed with the revered academic publicly, he sensed it was begrudgingly.

The urge to go after military and political targets would become even stronger, now that the alliance had added another three countries to their ranks. The combined militaries of the alliance would not want to wait for the inevitable effects on the Chinese economy. They would ask for new targets, new ways to inflict pain on their enemy.

On the screen, the two journalists were interviewing another journalist about the chances of China suing for peace, now that the Littoral Alliance had grown so strong. Economically, the clock was ticking. The big unknown was the determination of the Chinese leaders. “If they do the math,” the guest was saying, “they know they can’t win. But the men in charge may not want to hear that. They have too much to lose.”

Kubo was right. Taiwan was the final straw.

8 September 2016

2130 Local Time

August 1st Building, Ministry of National Defense Compound

Beijing, People’s Republic of China

Chen almost lived in the conference room now, so he’d seen the broadcast almost from the beginning. None of the CMC members were ever far from a television, and unlike most of China, they could watch the uncensored transmissions. Chen knew this news would be blocked. China’s censors did not have to wait for permission to block foreign media.

He wasn’t sure how the ordinary Chinese citizen would react. The party spoke of Taiwan as a wayward child, misguided, lured astray by foreigners. Disappointed, but always hopeful that eventually she would realize how wrong she’d been and would return to the loving arms of her true mother.

It would be well not to push the “mother and child” analogy too far, Chen realized, because it was the way of the world for children to leave their parents.

The chairman of the Central Military Commission and the president of China shook off his musings, as if regaining consciousness. The others seemed as shocked as him, most sitting silently. General Wen was calling urgently to an aide. General Shi was writing furiously. As the head of the political department, he would be most affected. He looked angry.

Other members of the commission started to arrive from their offices elsewhere in the building. Not everyone was there, of course. The announcement had caught them by complete surprise, which meant uncomfortable questions for General Xi Ping, chief of intelligence. They hurried in, asking questions that brought the rest out of their stunned silence.

Vice Chairman Zhang spoke first. “Why do I feel betrayed?”

“It’s because Taipei initially declared neutrality,” General Su explained. “I was relieved then. It meant one less enemy, and at least one possible path out for our trade. But after that traitorous announcement, I feel it as well.”

Shi had stopped writing, and his angry expression had softened. He spoke sharply. “Before the war, if Taipei had done this, we’d be ordering military action. Comrade Vice President, your anger is well founded. Taiwan saw which way the wind was blowing. Her neutrality helped us, to some small degree, withstand the alliance. That will now be turned against us as she tries to hasten our end.”

Zhang asked, “How will this news affect the population? How will they react?”

Shi shrugged. “I’ve been a political officer for thirty-four years, and all I’ll predict is that it won’t be to our advantage.” Shi paused for just a moment, then added, “Comrade President, members of the council, the Political Department recommends that we break all connections with the Internet immediately. As we sit here and discuss the effects of Taiwan’s defection, the rest of China is doing the same thing.”

Some at the table rose in protest, but Shi waved them down. “I understand the value of the Internet in commerce and government, but this stream of bad news is damaging the morale of the people.”

Instinctively, Chen agreed. The Chinese-controlled media was censored, of course, and her cyber security services blocked the great majority of objectionable sites. But it was impossible to completely block word from outside her borders, not with the Internet. And worse was the citizenry using it to talk among themselves. The CMC was well aware of the role that social networking had played in the collapse of other governments.

There was plenty for them to talk about. Hunts for foreign spies, industrial sabotage, the losses at sea, and now energy shortages all powered the rumor machine. The new fuel rationing system was already corrupt, rife with hoarders and profiteers.

Protests and riots were endemic, with no relief in sight. Ethnic groups like the Uyghurs in Xinjiang province and Tibetans were restive. Dissidents throughout the country were quick to claim that the communist party’s ambitions in the South China Sea had started the war. The information supporting that argument had come from outside China.

General Shi was still explaining, but Chen cut him off. “Comrades, I believe General Shi is right, and becomes more right with each passing moment. Does anyone else wish to comment?”

A few shook their heads, and others muttered their agreement with Shi.

Chen waited for a full minute, then said, “General Shi, your recommendation is accepted. Will you please give the necessary orders?” Shi nodded and left quickly, almost at a run. Chen was sure it was the right thing to do, but why did it feel like another loss? Damnit, he was still shaking off the news about Taiwan.