Two Peasants and a President (61 page)

“Prepare all aircraft for combat.  When those destroyers
close to mi
s
sile range, I want th
em 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 shithouse 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.  “Assuming he has the balls to do it, how do you think we’ll fare?”

“Assuming 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 shore based missile threat.  Against two destroyers and two Song class 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 prob
a
bly 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 a
d
visor, 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 pr
e
paring to challenge the 7
th
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. 

“Damn it, Mel,” the president snapped, “you can do better than that.”

By sending the 7
th
Fleet into harms way for purely political reasons and denying any
reserves
, an unprecedented move, the president had deeply a
n
gered 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 Pe
n
tagon.  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 Vie
t
namese 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
th
Fleet into harms way without
a reserve
.  The most galling aspect, in the president’s mind, was that he knew damn well that Larimer knew he had him where he wanted him.

“OK, Mel, let’s cut the crap.  We both know the 7
th
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 Ch
i
nese 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
th
Fleet was at no time in Chinese waters,” the Sec Def said, his voice rising, “It transited the Strait of Taiwan legall
y, 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 sp
at 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, Ben
e
dict.  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 mil
i
tary, 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 basement corridor.  A
c
cording 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 misad
ventures 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 damned, 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 assume that means there’s a plan,” said Brett.

“Well, yeah, but it gets a bit sketchy from this point on,” he replied.  “The US Embassy 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 damn cou
n
try’s under martial law due to some amazin
g stuff the dissidents have been doing
.  T
hey’re some brave
SOB’s
.  T
hey’re taking on the whole damn Chinese military and doing a hell 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 embassy’s a long way from here and not everyone in it is friendly.  For all intents and purposes, the St
a
tion Chief’s the only friend there we’ve got.  The ambassador 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 phone
s
that I can use to talk to the station chief.  He’s gonna scope out the street outside the Embassy before we get there.  They’ve always got plainclothes police around the compound to snag any potential defectors, so we’ll have t
o get by them, but that shouldn’
t be to
o
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 basement cell be removed, still wearing their own han
d
cuffs, and transferred to another location from which they would later be r
e
leased.