Two Peasants And A President Part 20

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Afterward, Ping had begun to wash the dishes by hand when Molly gently took a plate from her grasp and opened a door beneath the counter top. Another marvel from a land she had never dreamed of reaching was revealed to her. With the dishes safely in the machine, Ping looked a bit lost. Surely there must be more to it than that!

Molly took her by the hand into the living room where Virgil was preparing to record a program from which he suspected Ping would find both happiness and melancholy. A network not much watched by those who despise the senator had a.s.sembled a montage from the series of interviews with Min, Ping and the other refugees, all of whom were being settled into homes in the Was.h.i.+ngton area. Ping had yet to watch her own interview, much less the others and she was both fascinated and horrified to see herself on TV. When she noticed that Virgil and Molly were giggling, she feigned outrage and said something in Chinese they couldn't understand.

As expected, the montage held both happy moments and sad for the new resident in their home. But when the tears flowed, they were mostly tears of joy for the fact that all were now safe and there would be no more Chinese wars.h.i.+ps to pursue them. There were, however, unspoken thoughts that pa.s.sed between them that evening. Powerful enemies had been made on the journey out of h.e.l.l, deeds done that would not soon be forgotten.

The release of Brett from jail in Hong Kong was proving more troublesome than had been expected. China's official position was that he had committed an a.s.sault which had severely injured a citizen. That the citizen had been involved in a horrific crime against Brett's son and his bride seemed not to matter in the least. It was vintage China.

In a further insult, the White House had insisted that Commander Moore be removed from his post at the Hong Kong Consulate. It seems that when the president demanded to know how the USS Hawaii had become involved, the secretary of defense admitted that Moore had notified a CIA agent in Tianjin who was also a Tianjin Harbor Patrol police officer as well as a member of the dissident community. The tiny transmitter that he attached to the Dawn Flower had been picked up by the submarine, as had the sound of the approaching frigate.



The president became absolutely apoplectic when he learned that his own military as well as the CIA had intervened without his knowledge. What he failed to realize was that Captain Davis was a hero to many in the United States Navy and not everyone in government was willing to allow themselves to be used by China, especially when it involved so despicable a crime. Furthermore, all the apologies and bowing to countries that detested the United States had angered many Americans. It was felt in many quarters that this president did not really love his country and was determined to turn it into some sort of Marxist-Socialist state. Those who labeled any form of disagreement with the president as racism failed to realize how deeply this hurt Americans who were patriots with legitimate concerns, not racists.

To the president, it was an act of treason. To his chief backers in the Boston political machine, it was an act of war. But their blind a.s.sumption that they could wield politics like a billy club, as they had done for decades in Boston, ignored a basic truth: most Americans are at heart fair-minded individuals. They have long resented the kind of voter intimidation, fraud and the rigged elections that in their minds characterize Boston politics, and they were finally ready to get up off their couches and fight to keep it from spreading to the rest of the country.

A coup would probably be too strong a word for it. No one was about to be a.s.sa.s.sinated; no violence whatsoever was planned. Only a few liquor gla.s.ses and mugs of stale coffee would not live to see the dawn. Knives had been sharpened and targets painted on backs, to be sure, but real blood would not be shed. But by the time this chapter in American history was closed, a bright light would render some heretofore dark corners considerably less habitable for the corrupt politicians who dwelled there.

That the CIA and the military had been instrumental in saving American citizens from a ghoulish fate in China was, like so many other so called secrets, soon leaked to the press. In a taste of what was to come, some of the president's allies in the media no longer felt it was in their best interests to cover for an administration that had angered so many. They not only broadcast the story but also the growing allegations that the president had attempted to thwart the rescue of his own people in return for promises of continued investment from China.

Furthermore, a vocal group of veterans began demonstrating against the detention of a former Navy Seal and American hero in Hong Kong. Soon not only the smart phone generation carried signs outside the Chinese emba.s.sy; they had been joined by the veterans in what became an almost comical mix of attire from medals pinned on chests to ornaments pinned on noses and lips.

A president less blinded by ambition, seeing the forces arrayed against him, might have decided to change tack, but this president had never held the truth in high esteem and continued to do what he did most often lie. That their president would so boldly misrepresent events in China that now appeared to most Americans to be incontrovertible fact angered them, and they became even more convinced that this man was so married to his ideology that he would sacrifice anything to attain it.

China, in its boundless capacity for arrogance, seemed not yet to have grasped what was going on in the United States and decided to double down. They proceeded to convict Brett and sentence him to 15 years at hard labor. It was the straw that broke the panda's back. Citizens on both sides of the aisle, as well as independents and those who usually didn't give a d.a.m.n found themselves not only cheering for but partic.i.p.ating in the largest boycott in history. China promptly retaliated against the many American companies with branches or factories there, slowing deliveries of materials, 'discovering errors' in paperwork and licenses and hindering their businesses in every way possible. The trade war that no one wanted had erupted and no one knew where it would end.

Business types everywhere have always wisely warned that trade wars harm everyone. So it was no surprise when jobs connected to the import and sale of Chinese goods began to be affected. But rather than simply adjourn to their couches and televisions and collect unemployment, many displaced workers began to band together to help each other and to find strategies to hold out against China.

Food sitting idly in warehouses for future s.h.i.+pment by the UN to who knows where was distributed to food banks nationwide, thanks to quick action in Congress led by Senator Baines. Neighborhoods were pressured into ignoring covenants that prohibited the planting of gardens. Companies that during the downturn had h.o.a.rded vast amounts of cash now joined in the effort by employing some of that cash to hire people to help provide basic services that depleted city coffers could not. In return, they were promised future tax credits. Philanthropists and venture capitalists stepped in with strategic infusions of cash to keep the economy from cratering. Donations to charities that help those in need mushroomed. The rich, so reviled by the administration, now showed their patriotism by employing people in their areas to help maintain and repair infrastructure. Not since World War II had America pulled together with such unanimity.

In a move that would further endear him to the public but not to the White House, Senator Baines introduced a bill to lower the income tax. It flew through the House. The Senate felt it had little choice but to pa.s.s it. The grand dream of a huge government expansion was now on life support. With neither the continued sale of Treasuries to China nor the hoped for expanded revenue from tax increases, the projected expenditure of future trillions and with it an insurmountable debt, had to be severely curtailed.

It was, however, far from a rosy picture. To most economists, it was clear that the wave of volunteerism was but a finger in a crumbling dike. Jobs must produce goods and services that produce profit that in turn produces more jobs and more profit. In short, the economy needed to grow. Without sustainable growth a collapse was inevitable. While the American public, for the most part, continued to pull together in a magnificent display of selflessness, it was like a s.h.i.+p, that in spite of all its pumps, was still taking on water. The collective rage at what China had done, not only to American citizens, but to the economy and jobs would not alone be enough to avert a catastrophe.

China, while certainly hurting from the effects of the trade war, remained obstinate. Its reserves of cash and saleable natural resources meant that it could weather the storm far longer than could the United States. Even Europe was feeling the pinch. Americans could no longer afford to buy its products and there was considerable resentment that Europeans were still doing business with China. This further dampened American appet.i.tes for European goods. The trade war now threatened to go global.

Senator Baines, realizing that killing the disease might also be killing the patient, came up with a plan. It was an audacious gamble, but he could think of little if any downside. Holly, it turned out, had not only shown extraordinary s.p.u.n.k during her ordeal, but had also displayed it in a most convincing manner when she spoke in public. Baines and his friends arranged for Holly to speak on European television in an attempt to persuade Europe to pull together with America to combat a mutual threat. Any fool knew that China's intent was to one day dominate everyone, not just the United States, so it would clearly be in Europe's interest to form a block, that by its sheer size, could change the way in which China does business.

Holly's expression, when first told of the scheme, resembled a treed racc.o.o.n; the thought of speaking publicly in London, Paris, Frankfurt, Rome and Madrid was intimating to say the least. But like a treed racc.o.o.n protecting her young, she would take on a lion if that was what was required. The very corporation depicted in the ad that had galvanized so many young people agreed to provide a private jet for her trip and an expert from Toastmasters, the public speaking group, to coach her along the way. As the State Department stewed, the woman who overnight had become the United States' most important diplomat mounted the steps of a Gulfstream jet, followed by her grandfather, husband and proud parents. Only her parents realized that she was still haunted by her ordeal and worried that she might break down in front of an audience.

Once aboard the plane, the person from Toastmasters skillfully showed Holly how to avoid the ah's and um's that ruin so many speeches, even those of people who make their living in front of the public. Holly stood in the aisle of the Gulfstream, practicing her delivery, eye contact and gestures until they were second nature. By the time Heathrow was a laptop stow away, she looked at the smiling faces of her family, took a deep breath and prepared to step off the plane and into the light of more than a dozen cameras.

No one, least of all Holly, could have guessed how Londoners would respond to her plea. These were people who had endured a relentless bombing, sleeping in subway tubes, nearly starved by an enemy to whom compa.s.sion was a sign of weakness. They understood the kind of courage that this young woman possessed, the determination to live when others would have given up, and they responded with great affection.

Overnight, the number of protesters outside the Chinese emba.s.sy grew from handfuls to hundreds. 'Invasion of the Body s.n.a.t.c.her' T-s.h.i.+rts replete with a ghoulish caricature of the Chinese president blossomed all over the city. More importantly, an effective boycott of Chinese goods was soon organized. In a touching gesture, a young fan presented Holly with a T-s.h.i.+rt, on it the letters: 'My Second Honeymoon will be Much Better.' Her family stood beaming as she expressed her thanks.

By the time Holly climbed the steps of the Gulfstream jet again, she had become a fearless speaker. Her innate enthusiasm and conviction, now honed to a fine point by a skilled speech coach, was a powerful force emanating from a compact, youthful body that detracted not at all from the effect. But in their diligence, the organizers of her upcoming appearances had widely publicized the schedule. That, in retrospect, would prove to be a tragic oversight.

The sheer romance and majesty of Paris was impossible to ignore. It was simply the most beautiful city she had ever seen, which made focusing on the mission even more challenging. The speech was to be given in the courtyard of the Louvre where a striking, seventy foot tall gla.s.s pyramid resides. Ironically, it was designed by a Chinese architect, though by 1935 he had already left China.

Due to the design of the original Louvre building, its entrance had been deemed insufficient structurally to continue to withstand the enormous number of visitors crossing its threshold every day. The pyramid provided a spectacular new entrance that first descended into a s.p.a.cious mall beneath it and then up into the original Louvre building.

By the time Holly arrived, a large crowd had gathered, her popularity in Britain having already spread to France. In as much as only two gendarmes were visible in the crowd, her military family took matters into their own hands. Raymond stayed nearby at all times, while her father, mother and the captain roamed the crowd looking for anything out of place.

Holly looked absolutely stunning on this beautiful April evening, her white dress framed like a spring blossom by the sparkling gla.s.s pyramid gracing one of the most romantic edifices on the planet. Her speeches in London had imparted a confidence that enhanced her lovely, engaging smile. The Paris crowd had swelled since her arrival and stood in obvious antic.i.p.ation of her words.

"It started with a magnificent evening, much like the one we are enjoying tonight in Paris," she began. "But what had been planned as a romantic cruise became a hideous nightmare beyond our imagination. No honeymoon cake would be served on that cruise. In fact, those responsible intended instead to carve my husband and me into pieces and to sell them to the highest bidder. Fortunately, the ghouls who kidnapped us did not bargain on a certain retired navy captain, who happens to be my grandfather and who pursued them all the way to the city of Tianjin."

"With the help of a group of very brave Chinese dissidents and a doctor who would no longer stand for what was going on in the most prestigious hospital in that city, my grandfather spirited us out of China on a wooden fis.h.i.+ng boat belonging to a courageous Chinese family. The government of that nation, so fearful that the world might learn the dark secrets of Tianjin, sent its navy to stop us. Great wars.h.i.+ps bristling with guns and missiles fanned out across the Yellow Sea in pursuit of two American newlyweds on a wooden boat, intending to silence them forever."

As the crowd warmed to Holly, the captain and Jim moved around its periphery scanning faces or hands that might reveal someone who had not come to listen.

"In what is perhaps our greatest disappointment," Holly continued, "the White House and apparently the head of our own government chose to abdicate his responsibility to protect its citizens. Instead they elected to cover up this atrocity in order to protect their banker, China. They made every effort to keep our brave Chinese friends from telling their story and, I suspect, would have returned them to China if our military and CIA had not come to our aid."

"Tonight I share this with you and with the world in order to protect those who bravely helped us from retribution from some in our own government."

Jim noticed a dark-haired young man who seemed nervous, this in an unlikely setting for a bout of nerves. Perhaps the man is ill; perhaps it is his nature to be timid and nervous; perhaps it is something else entirely. The former Navy Seal carefully moved closer, noting that the man's hands were in the pockets of his windbreaker, this on a warm spring evening.

"Tonight, I come to ask you a favor," Holly said, "not for myself, not for my family, but for citizens everywhere who may not realize that China is undergoing an enormous military buildup, that China is leasing and buying enormous tracts in every corner of the planet, tracts that contain critical minerals and oil, resources that will one day be needed by all of us. I do not believe that there is any coincidence in these actions. I believe that it is part of their plan to one day dictate to the world."

"When their military is powerful enough, when they have gathered sufficient resources, I believe that they intend to show us what Mao Tse Tung meant when he said: "Power flows from the barrel of a gun." I ask you all tonight to resist in the only peaceful way we have, which is by boycotting Chinese products."

Jim had slipped to within six feet of the nervous man when suddenly his shoulder jerked his arm upward, pulling a pistol from his pocket. As the ex-Seal charged forward, the barrel of the pistol came level with Holly and flame erupted from it in a bright flash. Holly went down as the second shot shattered a gla.s.s pane on the pyramid behind her. Jim's hands surrounded the man's wrist and the gun, but not before a third shot rang out, this time striking a young boy in the crowd.

The man was strong, very strong. The former Seal had been well-trained in armed and unarmed combat and, in spite of the years, was still in excellent shape, which told him that this man was also highly trained and probably at least fifteen years younger. The next thing Jim saw was a boot flying past his face. Then the shooter's head snapped backward, blood spurting from his broken nose. Another kick left the young man reeling in semi-consciousness as Jim ripped the pistol from his hands. Several males from the crowd had surrounded the shooter, kicking him in the head and chest.

As the beating continued, Jim raced to Holly who was now cradled in her mother's arms, blood streaming down the side of her head.

"Oh my G.o.d," he said, as he fell to his knees beside his daughter. Sally was still yelling for a doctor as the first sounds of sirens were heard in the distance. Two armed security guards from the museum had appeared, guns drawn, and were talking into their radios as Ray ran out of the museum carrying a first aid kit. Medics pushed through crowd but had paused next to the shooter when captain Davis grabbed the arms of one and propelled him toward his granddaughter. The other medic knelt by the young boy who was clearly beyond help.

"Can you hear me, baby?" said Ray, kneeling beside his wife, holding a gauze pad against the side of her head. There was no response. Some in the crowd had fled when shots rang out, but others milled about wringing their hands, faces streaked with grief.

The medic kneeling beside Holly saw that the gauze pad had temporarily staunched the bleeding. The other medic arrived next to him and together they prepped her for transport. All they would say was that she was still alive. She was soon in an ambulance and on the way to a Paris hospital.

The crowd had been so incensed by the attack on the young woman that they continued to launch vicious kicks at the shooter's unconscious body until police pulled them away, by which time he was a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp. He would later be p.r.o.nounced dead at the hospital and with no identification on his person, authorities could only hope that his finger prints or the gun would yield something. All that was certain was that he would not be talking to anyone.

When the first news reports reached the United States, most Americans were appalled. Even the normally venomous left was, at least for now, silent and not gloating over the tragedy. Those who truly understood the peril of the economy wondered if their last hope had been silenced.

Once Holly had been stabilized in the emergency room, the trauma surgeon carefully removed the blood-soaked gauze pad. The wound, while b.l.o.o.d.y, showed no indication that the skull had been penetrated. The bullet had struck a glancing blow, enough to knock Holly out but not enough induce swelling of the brain or other serious trauma. As her worried family stood at the foot of her bed, the s.p.u.n.ky young lady opened her eyes for the first time. Her puzzled gaze quickly gave way to a weak smile as she saw her family gathered around her.

"Guess they didn't like my speech, huh?" she said in a soft voice. With those words, the fear and tension that marked their faces melted into smiles streaked with tears. Holly would spend the next two days at the hospital, the doctors needing to be cautious in case some unseen trauma had gone undetected. But when she was finally released, a white bandage on the side of her head was the only visible evidence of what had happened.

The family was ready to leave for home as soon as they could find a flight, feeling rightly that nearly losing Holly twice was twice too many. It was time for someone else to pick up the torch. As they sat at the phone back at the hotel, asking the owners of the Gulfstream to take them home, Holly made a sudden announcement.

"I'm not going," she said. Her mother's face was a mask of incredulity as she turned to face her daughter.

"You're what?" she said.

"I'm not going," Holly repeated, enunciating each word.

No sound escaped the lips of anyone in the room for more than a minute. The next words came from her grandfather, the soft lines of his face expressing a calm understanding of the inevitable.

"She means she's got some unfinished business to tend to," he said simply.

Jim and Sally badly wanted to drag their daughter out of the room and into a taxi for the airport, but they had been down that path before. Once Holly's mind was made up, neither handcuffs nor straight jacket could restrain her.

"I nearly died . . . twice. It's got to be for a reason and not wasted," Holly said softly, "When I was unconscious, I could see my words as if they were objects. As I spoke to those people, the words fell upon them like a gentle rain, the drops not running down their faces onto the ground, but soaking in. I can't describe the feeling but somehow I knew they understood. I need to make others understand. There's no one else. It has to be me."

Rome was next.

60.

Molly grabbed Virgil's arm so tightly that his head snapped around. They were walking through an electronics store when every television erupted simultaneously with an image that froze them in place. A loud crack sounded near an unseen cameraman and the subject in his viewfinder crumpled. It was unmistakable. It was Holly. They stood unspeaking as dozens of screens continued to mimic each other's horror. Finding a remote, they moved in front of the largest screen to listen for what they hoped not to hear. Nothing was known that wasn't already visible.

Knowing that Ping might have the television on, they headed for the parking lot. The car radio had only what they had already seen; the information they dreaded but desperately needed was not yet available. They resolved that if the TV wasn't already on at home, they would keep it off for the time being. Ping must be protected.

When they opened the front door, the only sound was a faint humming coming from her room upstairs. Ping loved to knit and would accompany her knitting with the sing-song melodies of her youth.

"We're home," they announced loudly enough to be heard upstairs.

"Tahnk you," came the accented reply. Ping's English was gradually improving, but she had managed to tangle up certain phrases that actually seemed to make more sense her way. For example, instead of 'mow the lawn,' she would say 'lower the mawn.' It was really very cute and only endeared her to them more.

Virgil went into his study and turned on the computer. Molly stood behind him hoping they would not find what they dreaded. Finally they came across a BBC report. It said what they already knew, that Holly had been shot, but it did not say that she had died. It was scant but uncertain relief. Virgil called his office to see if any of his aides were still there. Predictably, his indefatigable chief of staff was still working. Virgil asked him to try to get in touch with someone in Paris who knew what had happened and get back with him. Then he called his contact at the company that provided the Gulfstream to see if they had any info. It was simply too soon.

Molly and Virgil tried to read for awhile, but it was futile. Finally about 10:00 pm, his aide called to tell them that Holly was expected to live. There was still no information as to the ident.i.ty of the shooter or the reason. That Holly was alive was all they needed. The morning news programs would have more. They tiptoed past Ping's room, hoping she was still awake, but a buzzing rather that a humming told them she was not.

With the first smell of morning coffee from the kitchen, they turned on the bedroom TV. There were still few details other than the only one that mattered: Holly had been wounded and would be out of the Paris hospital in a couple of days. Virgil wrapped a robe around himself and went down to see if Ping was up yet. He found her standing in front of the television in the kitchen, tears streaming down her cheeks. The gentle touch on her shoulder reminded her that she had someone who cared. She turned and let him wrap his arms around her.

"She's all right, Ping, she's all right. They hurt her but not badly; she's going to live."

Like sorrow cleansed by a miracle, the shadow of grief pa.s.sed from Ping's face as she looked up into his eyes.

"My baby OK?" she said.

"Yes, Ping, she'll be fine."

Another pair of arms gently wrapped themselves around Ping and Virgil.

The aide who never slept was already in the office when Virgil arrived. He had just spoken with Holly's parents. Incredibly, Holly intended to soldier on.

"I'd give her the Medal of Honor if it were in my power to do so," said the senator, "she has to be the bravest young lady I have ever known."

What had been captured by an unseen cameraman played over and over on morning news shows across the country and in Europe. Within days, that grim footage was replaced with the image of Holly's bandaged head as she stood before ever growing crowds, speaking in a voice that had found its way into the hearts of people on every continent. Like a modern Joan of Arc, the s.p.u.n.ky little lady was conquering Europe.

In what seemed impossible, people in stores were turning items upside down, pulling labels out of clothing and refusing to buy: Made in China. Even cheapskates who would drive a mile to save a buck were pa.s.sing on the lowest prices. While there were adverse and unfortunate consequences for those in the ancillary businesses connected to the China trade, the boycott overall was proving more effective than anyone had ever dreamed.

Unfortunately for the president, he continued to focus on all things negative. The man seemed incapable of admitting that he was ever wrong. It was always someone or something else. Had he adapted to the reality of what was happening, he might have been able to resurrect his popularity, but his inflexible ideology was his undoing. Increasingly, those in the media who had carried his water saw their own survival on the line and began to moderate their positions. Even his allies in the Congress were starting to drift. Perhaps his biggest problem was that there simply was no defense for having attempted to aid in a cover up of the undeniably despicable events surrounding Holly and her husband. His position was utterly indefensible.

China's obstinacy and hubris continued unabated at first. They were well aware that with many products in America's stores, buying 'Made in USA' was simply not possible; there weren't any. But they failed to realize how quickly countries like Viet Nam, India, South Korea and others would rush to fill the gap with low priced goods of their own. s.h.i.+pments of everything from kitchen utensils to electronics were being loaded into containers bound for America. Even in the United States smaller companies began to produce what was needed. Their prices were not as low as the Chinese goods they replaced, but jobs meant paychecks and Americans increasingly were earmarking part of their paychecks for 'Made in USA' products. In what was perhaps the most powerful result of the boycott, people were feeling good about it; they were pulling together and they were beating up the bully for a change.

Then China miscalculated badly. Believing their own fiction regarding the South China Sea, they decided that their "indisputable sovereignty" over the area permitted them to 'monitor' s.h.i.+pping.' It was an obvious ploy to counter the boycott, but China was not averse to being obvious when they wanted to send a message. Using the pathetically thin pretext of interdicting contraband, they began stopping and inspecting s.h.i.+ps bearing goods bound for the United States. Since vessels leaving Vietnam were closest at hand, they started there, boarding two container s.h.i.+ps and several smaller freighters. The following day, Vietnam adopted a WWII tactic, setting up convoys and escorting each with a wars.h.i.+p. The powder keg was now perilously close to the fire.

Vietnam was neither new to having a navy nor to using it to battle China on the high seas, their first victory over Chinese Southern Han forces having been in the year 938. In 1288 an attack on the Yuan (Mongol) Dynasty killed over 80,000 Yuan sailors and destroyed more than 400 of their s.h.i.+ps. In a modern clash over the Spratly Islands in 1988, Vietnam did not fare so well, with over seventy Vietnamese sailors killed. Intermittent clashes had continued since then. But unlike China, who had numerous routes to the open sea, Vietnam's coast lay along the very area which China now claimed, meaning Vietnam's economic survival was at stake. She could not back down.

The first Vietnamese convoy was escorted by the Dinh Tien Hoang, a brand new 'stealth' frigate of Russian design. While its 76.2 mm main gun was smaller than the 100 mm gun some Chinese wars.h.i.+ps carried, its complement of Kh-35E anti-s.h.i.+p missiles, 533 mm torpedoes, Osa-M air defense missile system, as well as anti-submarine and point defense systems, made it a very capable platform. It was China's move.

A Chinese frigate shadowed the convoy. Sailors aboard both wars.h.i.+ps were at battle stations. Continuing east past the disputed Paracel islands toward the northernmost tip of the Philippines, the convoy pa.s.sed the point at which Vietnamese land-based anti-s.h.i.+p missiles could no longer reach. Now out from under that protective umbrella, the convoy was at its most vulnerable point.

Suddenly radar aboard the Dinh Tien Hoang painted a flight of four Chinese J-10 fighters taking off from Hainan Island. The J-10's, first introduced in 2005 carried short and medium range air-to-air missiles as well as YJ-9K anti-s.h.i.+p missiles. It was a modern, capable fighter that some believed equivalent to the American FA-18 Hornet. As they closed on the Vietnamese frigate, its air-defense radar officer programmed the system to lock on to the fighters at a distance his captain had ordered. At the same time a message was sent to his base alerting them of the presence of the Chinese fighters.

The Chinese fighters could see that they were being 'painted' by the frigate's air defense radar. A lock on would be the immediate prelude to engagement. The pilots did not know at what point the Vietnamese would loose their missiles, or indeed if they would even open fire. Likewise, the captain of the Dinh Tien Hoang had no way of knowing if the Chinese fighters had orders to attack or not. It was at this point that the Chinese frigate broadcast a message ordering the cargo s.h.i.+ps to heave to for boarding and inspection. The captains of those s.h.i.+ps had strict orders to ignore any such demand and they steamed onward without slowing.

In both Oriental cultures, 'saving face' is paramount. The warriors on both sides had devoted their lives to a code of conduct that would never allow them to disgrace either themselves or their governments. That young, possibly hot-headed fighter pilots were now involved made it an even more volatile mix; a single hostile act could start a war that was in no one's interest.

Aboard the Dinh Tien Hoang, the captain was advised that a contact had been picked up off the port bow, likely a Chinese Song-cla.s.s submarine, itself a formidable adversary. At the same time his radar picked up a flight of four SU-27 Vietnamese fighters responding to the presence of the Chinese J-10's. The Vietnamese captain knew that his s.h.i.+p had the best technology and warfare systems that Russia had to offer. With four top line SU-27's on the way, the fight, if it were to occur, would be relatively evenly matched with training and skill being the likely deciders.

If it came to a battle, the Vietnamese captain had no intention of backing down. His orders specified protecting the cargo carriers but not firing the first shot. If the Chinese frigate were to attempt to board one of the cargo s.h.i.+ps, he was to place his wars.h.i.+p in between them. But if a Chinese s.h.i.+p or aircraft were to lock on to his s.h.i.+p, he was free to defend himself.

When the Vietnamese SU-27 fighters were within 75 kilometers, they were picked up by the Chinese J-10 fighters' radar. Their pilots now realized that the Vietnamese had a strong hand and if they played it, some of the Chinese pilots would be unlikely to return to base. In the back of their minds, they were wondering if at this moment more Chinese fighters were being sent to back them up. While that might be comforting, the escalation could prove fatal to all.

In a small clearing in the northernmost jungles of the Philippines, a compact CIA elint (electronic intelligence gathering) unit was 'watching' the most tense encounter since the sinking of the Philippine wars.h.i.+p. However, this time the danger was far greater since both combatants were far more well-armed and had a long history of belligerence. In what took less than a second, a burst of encrypted data was fired from a transmitter cleverly concealed in a rickety pier along the sh.o.r.e to an American military communications satellite overhead, the first step on its journey to the Pentagon and ultimately the White House.

Chinese sensors picked up the energy burst but calculated its transmission point as just off sh.o.r.e rather than along it. Due to this slight miscalculation and their inability to decipher the encryption, they believed that an American submarine had allowed its antenna to rise to the surface to communicate with the 7 Fleet, still in j.a.panese waters.

The potential involvement of a United States carrier battle group was not new. China had been, in its eyes, shamed by two United States carrier battle groups sailing through the Straits of Taiwan before and ever since had been developing a series of weapons to defeat that threat, including an alleged 6,000 mph carrier-killer missile and an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) weapon. While it was not believed that either of those systems were online, China has a huge a.r.s.enal of land-based missiles along its coast as well as hundreds of warplanes. The most dangerous aspect of all these events was the dramatic elevation of the possibility that a critical error by either party could start a war.

As the CIA's electronic message quickly made its way up the military chain of command, one of the many civilian satellites, some of which had been paying particular attention to the area since things started heating up, noticed the unusual proximity and activities of Chinese and Vietnamese naval a.s.sets as well the cargo s.h.i.+ps. It was obvious that not only was something afoot, but that when wars.h.i.+ps of nations which had clashed in the past come together, the outcome could be unpredictable.

While the signal emanating from the CIA base reached its destination more quickly, the civilian satellite's transmission soon found its way to the media. This followed the previous day's report of China stopping Vietnamese container and cargo s.h.i.+ps on the high seas. Questions were directed to the White House and Pentagon and with no answers forthcoming, the media turned to its audience. China's cavalier and threatening actions, even more off the charts than usual, were generating no small amount of concern around the globe. The uncertainty had driven the price of oil to new highs which jeopardized an already weakened global economy, but rather than dampen enthusiasm for the boycott, it only strengthened it. Not since WWII did America have an enemy that was so universally detested. In the United States, as well as abroad, people were becoming more intransigent. China's actions surrounding events in Tianjin had felt like a personal insult to many, and once again their extraordinary hubris was inflaming pa.s.sions like nothing since Pearl Harbor.

There was an interesting parallel that went largely unnoticed except among historians and military types. In the late 18 century, when European s.h.i.+ps were buying and carting off vast loads of Chinese goods of every type, the western powers approached the emperor to request that China reciprocate by buying western goods. Empty s.h.i.+ps on the return voyage to China meant lower profits and higher prices in Europe. The emperor, with typical arrogance, told the envoys that Europe had nothing that China needed or wanted and that their products were inferior to what China possessed. Unfortunately, the emperor had apparently failed to notice that the West did have one thing which China did not: s.h.i.+ps with large guns. What ensued was a war in which China was forced to open its ports and to buy a product that would later sp.a.w.n other conflicts: opium.

While few in the West think historically, most being occupied with more important concerns such as sitcoms and sports, China has studied its history carefully. Their 5 year, 10 year and 20 year plans ensure that such mistakes are not repeated and that one day soon China would be the one who had the s.h.i.+ps with big guns. Up to this point, their plan had worked quite well and their power had grown, but if there was a single flaw that one could point to in their strategy, it might be their continued love affair with arrogance. The current situation was a perfect example; they still had not grasped the sea change in the att.i.tude of the average citizens in the West. This was leading them to a potentially perilous conclusion: that the West would, in the end, back down.

News of heightened tensions in the South China Sea reached a public that was already fatigued and disgusted by China's display of bratty behavior. That officials in Beijing would, after everything else they had done, try to prevent goods from reaching the United States was almost beyond belief. For the first time in anyone's memory, there were so many demonstrators around the Chinese emba.s.sy that riot troops were called in to prevent a breach of the Chinese compound. No room in the emba.s.sy was now beyond the noise of the angry crowd, and the amba.s.sador messaged his concern to Beijing. That the reply was a rebuke did not bode well for future events.

Two Peasants And A President Part 20

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Two Peasants And A President Part 20 summary

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