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The Pacific Rim Collection

Page 48

by Don Brown


  “Irwin, Secretary Mauney has had the floor. What are your thoughts?” the president said.

  “Sir, you’ve already touched on this, but I remind you of our mission’s original purpose—to deter war. I think we can get away with rendering emergency medical aid. But, sir, if you’re thinking about doing anything about these babies, as horrid at these photos are, then in my judgment the original purpose of our mission is compromised.”

  “So I’m to do nothing about the apparent mass-murder of baby girls?”

  “Sir, you’re the president,” the secretary of defense said. “I won’t second-guess you either way, but I respectfully remind you of our original mission to deter war between the two Chinas. We can’t deter a war if we interfere with the passage of this ship, in my opinion. We might even find ourselves in it. Remember, sir. We need China economically. They are funding our debt.”

  “I understand, Irwin,” the president said. “But I got run out of bed for the second time in the last four hours for an emergency meeting of my National Security Council to deal with two pressing, late-breaking issues. One,” he held up an index finger, “this request for an emergency medevac of the Chinese guys shot up by the Taiwanese, and two”—holding up two fingers—”what to do with this gruesome discovery. And some of you think these issues are related and my decision on one ought to be linked to the other. Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir, Mister President.”

  Heads nodding.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to simplify this,” the president said. “Admiral Jones”—he looked at his joint chiefs chairman—”the medevac request is granted. Get on the horn right now and get a chopper out to that ship. Let’s save life if we can. I know that might be spun against us, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jones said. He picked up the secure telephone. “This is Admiral Jones. The president approved. Get a chopper out there now.” He hung up the phone. “Done, Mister President.”

  “Very well. Now let’s focus on the second issue and our options. The floor is open.”

  Vice President Morgan raised a finger.

  “Mister Vice President?”

  “We start with two basic choices. Either we ignore these atrocities, which best serves our short-term military and political objective of quelling this dispute, or we move in some way to preserve the evidence, which in my judgment would destroy our military-political objective and drag us into something with China.”

  “I agree, Rock,” the president said. “Preserving the evidence could make things dicey with the Chinese. Maybe even jeopardize our economy or risk war.” He thought about that for a second. “But let’s put the international political ramifications on the back burner just for a second and talk logistics. How could we preserve the evidence? If that’s what I were to decide?”

  “Well, Mister President,” Secretary Mauney said, “if I may?”

  “Go ahead, Bobby.”

  “I’m a diplomat and not a logistics guy. So I’d defer to my friend the secretary of defense on specific logistics. But it seems that we have three options to consider.”

  “Let’s hear ‘em.”

  “Well, first, we could take pictures of the babies and then let the ship go. Second, we could find a way to remove the babies and let the ship go. Third—and this is the option I would favor if you decide to take action to preserve evidence—we could seize the ship itself, preserving the evidence exactly as it is.”

  “Seize the ship?” President Surber said. “Aside from the fact that the Chinese are not going to like us just seizing a civilian freighter flying under their flag, what legal basis would we have for seizing it?”

  “That’s easy, Mister President,” Mauney said. “Same legal theory used in places like Nuremberg, Tokyo, and Darfur. You would seize the ship on the grounds that it contains evidence of crimes against humanity.”

  “But seize the evidence and preserve it for what?” Secretary Lopez interjected. “Are we just going to report to the world that we’ve found this and demand that China stop it? It’s not like we’ve not heard of these rumors before.”

  “That’s true,” Secretary Mauney responded. “But until now, that’s all we’ve had. Rumor and innuendo. Now … now we have something of a smoking gun. For the first time.” Mauney jabbed a finger in the air. “This is significant. Historically and politically. Just look at these pictures!” Mauney’s voice rung throughout the room. “And now we know that this is happening in the country that we’re most economically dependent on! How can we ignore it? To ignore this is the same as ignoring Auschwitz or …”

  With all eyes glued upon him, a shocked look crossed Mauney’s face, a stunned look of apparent realization that he was coming across like a pulpit-pounding Southern Baptist preacher unleashing a sermon of fire and brimstone. “Please accept my apologies, Mister President. I was out of line. I am supposed to be a diplomat.”

  “Apologies unnecessary, Bobby,” the president said. “We’re all enraged about this.” He was determined to control the shaking in his own voice. “Secretary Lopez.”

  “Sir.”

  “Usually, it’s Secretary Mauney calling for restraint, as I’d expect from a diplomat, and you calling for action, as I’d expect from a warrior. But this time, you seem to have switched sides, with you advocating restraint and the secretary of state advocating military action of some sort.”

  “Mister President,” Lopez said, “I share everyone’s anger.” Nods all around the table. “But this proposal undermines our role as a neutral party and undercuts our leverage to persuade Beijing to come to the negotiating table and stop their military aggression. A decision to seize that ship, if that’s what you order our Navy to do, changes the dynamic of the whole situation. With all due respect, think about it, sir.

  “First, the Shemnong is flying the flag of the People’s Republic of China. Seizing it could be considered an act of war against China. On top of that, it’s a ship carrying military supplies to Itu Aba. So if we seize it, that makes us appear to be siding with Taiwan in the military conflict. Also, sir, it isn’t like the national security interests of the United States are at stake here. This isn’t May Day 2011, the day our SEALs took out Osama bin Laden, a terrorist threatening American security. These atrocities are despicable, but they don’t threaten the United States.”

  Cynthia Hewitt, her green eyes darting back and forth, blazed with fury.

  “You wanted to say something, Cyndi?” Surber said.

  “Yes, sir. China might have a big army. But what are they going to do? March across Siberia and then across the frozen Bering Strait and invade us? This ship is carrying evidence of mass murder. Is it always about an immediate threat to our national security? President Obama launched a hundred Tomahawk cruise missiles against Libya because he claimed, on shaky evidence, that he wanted to stop the slaughter of innocent civilians. This evidence is anything but shaky. We’ve all seen the photos.

  “President Clinton bombed Bosnia because of ethnic cleansing when the Bosnian Serb Army was targeting Bosnian Muslims and Croats.

  “This”—she stopped and wiped her eyes—”this is not only a crime against humanity but it’s also a crime against women. Are we going to let them get away with it just because it’s China? Are we as a nation going to say that the lives of innocent Chinese baby girls are not as important to us as the lives of Bosnian Muslims? Are we going to stand against gendercide in the world? President Franklin Roosevelt, when he loaned American destroyers to the British in World War II, said that if your neighbor’s house is burning down, you lend him a fire hose. Isn’t the murder of innocent, helpless baby girls, and then selling their body parts for profit, just as despicable as what the Nazis did to the Jews at Auschwitz? Don’t these babies deserve a decent burial before their body parts are carved up and sold on the black market? Have we no dignity when it comes to life?”

  Electric tension flooded the room. Several NSC members stared at their lap
top screens. Admiral Jones looked at the secretary of defense. The vice president and the secretary of defense and the secretary of state looked at the president.

  The president looked at Cyndi. Her words reminded him of Margaret Thatcher’s eloquence after Sadaam Hussein invaded Kuwait in 1990. The first President Bush had decided to take no action until Mrs. Thatcher bent his ear with a passionate plea to stop the dictator.

  “Assuming that I ordered this ship seized, where would we take it?”

  Secretary Mauney looked up.

  “Bobby? You have thoughts on that?”

  “Yokosuka is our nearest base, but that would place our Japanese allies in a predicament with China. The Philippines is a possibility. But once again, we’re placing an ally in an awkward position they haven’t asked to be in. So I’d recommend taking it to Guam, which of course is United States territory.”

  “I agree with that, Mister President,” Secretary Lopez said.

  The president looked around the table, then at Secretary of State Robert Mauney. “Secretary Mauney, I’m directing you to expedite a range of diplomatic and legal options for me to act upon in dealing with the evidence we’ve found on the Shemnong, anywhere from calling a UN Security Council meeting, to pressing the Chinese to crack down, to prosecuting the crew members of the ship, to finding these murderers ourselves. I want a range of proposals on my desk by”—he glanced at his watch—”ten this morning.”

  “Yes, Mister President.”

  Members of the Security Council fidgeted. NSC Adviser Cynthia Hewitt drummed her fingers on the table. Vice President Morgan chomped on a wad of gum. The secretary of defense pursed his lips.

  But regardless of the nervous movements of their lips, or their mouths, or their fingers, it was their eyes that brought them together in a common silent bond. With the intensity of a dozen laser guns, they shot at the president with a montage of looks, each with a huge dose of nervous anticipation.

  But even under the intensity of their stares, the president still could not shake the image that had been triggered from all those photographs.

  “Admiral Jones.”

  “Yes, Mister President.”

  “If I order the Navy to seize this ship, do we have any warships in the area yet that could do that in short order? Say in the next few hours?”

  “Mister President, Seventh Fleet is on the way, but we don’t have a lot of firepower in the area yet. Right now, USS Vicksburg is closest. The USS Shiloh is just a few miles behind Vicksburg. But both Vicksburg and Shiloh are heavy cruisers.

  “I’d hate to waste that kind of firepower on escort duty. Because if this thing blows up, we’re going to need all the firepower in the area that we can get. And of course the cruisers provide maximum protection for our carrier.”

  The president thought about that. “Any destroyers or fast frigates approaching the area behind the cruisers?”

  “Yes, sir.” The admiral leaned back and crossed his arms. “Right now we’ve got one Arleigh Burke – class destroyer about two hours behind the Shiloh and a couple of smaller Perry – class fast frigates an hour or so behind the destroyer. They’re all steaming full speed to the South China Sea.”

  “All right,” the president said. “What if we have the Vicksburg seize the Shemnong, start escorting it back toward Guam, then pass it off to one of the smaller ships and return to station in the South China Sea?”

  “Mister President, that would be a whole lot better than having the cruiser escort her all the way back to Guam, if this is what you decide.”

  “Let me think about that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The president swiveled around in his large black leather chair, turning his back on the members of the NSC gathered around the oblong conference table.

  It had been a warm, breezy afternoon in that cemetery outside of Omaha. The funeral home had dug the small grave. After the minister said the last prayer, the next part was something he had to do himself. He took the shovel and slowly, lovingly began to drop dirt into his son’s grave onto the small casket. And when he had finished, he looked down on it and said, “Daddy will see you in heaven, Alex. I promise.”

  In the years since that last shovelful of dirt, his life had been a life of adventure and now great political power. This was a life millions could only dream about.

  But despite all of it, after all the unmerited blessings, he knew he would give it all up, in fact would give it all back, the presidency included, if he had never had to drop that dirt in his boy’s grave.

  Now, what to do? Most of the military actions of his predecessor, Mack Williams, had been against militant Islamic terror groups. But this? This would involve military action against the world’s largest country, a country that had become a raging economic power that many countries, including the United States, had become dependent on.

  Through it all, after all the successes and failures, Douglas Surber had never left his Christian roots, never forgotten the One who had saved him. Each day, he took a call in the Oval Office from his best friend, a Baptist pastor in San Diego he met all those years ago when he was a young naval officer and heard these words: “Douglas, remember Deuteronomy 6:18. Do the right thing.”

  Those last words rang in his head as he swiveled his chair back around to command position at the head of the table and looked into the eyes of his secretary of defense. He would do this for Alex. He had to.

  “Secretary Lopez.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If this country does not stand for life, if we cannot stare down atrocities, no matter who the perpetrator is, then we’ve lost everything that once made us great.”

  “Agreed, sir.”

  “Pass the orders to the Navy. Seize the Shemnong. Escort her to Guam, pending further orders from me. Secretary Mauney.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Be prepared to open a diplomatic channel to China on this. Let’s give Tang an opportunity to cooperate and save face. That would mean China arrests and prosecutes the perpetrators and avows to stop this policy. But contact them only after we’ve seized the ship and removed it from the area. I don’t want them interfering with our military ops. Contact Taiwan as a courtesy, but wait until about an hour before our ship arrives on station.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Bridge

  USS Vicksburg

  South China Sea

  late afternoon

  Long orange rays from the late-afternoon sun streamed across the darkening blue sky in a direction that was now more horizontal than vertical. Daylight over the sea had dwindled down to ninety minutes at most before sundown.

  The heavy cruiser Vicksburg, the tip of the dagger of the Carl Vinson Strike Group, bore down full speed through calm seas on a course of two-two-zero degrees toward the waters surrounding Itu Aba Island. By daybreak, she would be patrolling eight miles off the coast, the first American man-o’-war to arrive in a dangerous naval hornet’s nest, made more dangerous by the presence, somewhere, of the new Chinese aircraft carrier.

  Captain Leonard Kruger, the Vicksburg’s commanding officer, sipped a hot tea and scanned the horizon. For the mariner, nothing rivaled the peaceful calm of a late-afternoon summer seascape, as the fading rays of the sun triumphed over a driving tropical rain.

  Kruger checked his watch, then glanced at his executive officer, Commander Hugh Bennett, who was scanning the seas through the windows to starboard.

  “XO, I’m stepping outside for some air before dinner. You’ve got the conn.”

  “Aye, Captain, I have the conn.”

  Captain Kruger headed toward the hatch leading out of the bridge.

  “Captain, FLASH message just received from Washington,” the radioman said.

  “Washington?” Kruger said as he stopped and turned around. “Whatcha got, Lieutenant?”

  “New orders, sir.”

  Kruger walked to the front of the bridge as the lieutenant ripped the orders from the printer.r />
  FROM: National Command Authority

  TO: Commanding Officer, USS Vicksburg

  VIA: Commander, Seventh Fleet

  Commander, Carl Vinson Strike Group

  Commander, CRUSDESGRU 10

  PRECEDENCE: FLASH

  CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET

  SUBJ: Orders for Seizing PRC Freighter M/V Shemnong

  “XO, check this out,” Kruger said. “Orders from National Command Authority, which probably means they were authorized by the president himself.”

  The XO peered over his shoulder as Kruger laid the orders on the navigation table.

  1. Current orders to proceed to waters surrounding Itu Aba Island, Spratly chain, canceled until further notice.

  2. Proceed immediately to location of PRC freighter M/V Shemnong, now in the custody of ROCS destroyer Kee Lung, 100 nautical miles due east of Da Nang, Vietnam.

  3. Your new orders are to seize the M/V Shemnong, then set course, along with M/V Shemnong, for US Naval Base, Guam, Mariana Islands, western Pacific.

  4. You will escort Shemnong on a course to Naval Base, Guam, resisting by force any attempts to interfere with escort of M/V Shemnong, until relieved by other United States warships. Upon completion of your mission under these orders, you will return to your station in the littoral waters surrounding Itu Aba Island for completion of original orders in deterring shooting war between PRC and ROC.

  5. ROC Navy will be informed of US intentions through diplomatic channels.

  6. Expect full cooperation from ROCS Kee Lung.

  7. However, despite full expectation of cooperation from ROC, bear in mind that you are proceeding into a volatile situation.

  8. It is impossible to fully ascertain or predict the reaction of either the ROC or the PRC in response to the execution of your orders.

  9. Therefore, you are authorized to use full force short of nuclear weapons in self-defense if fired upon or threatened by any possible belligerent.

  10. Proceed immediately to 15.749963N Latitude, 111.873779E Longitude.

 

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