Battlefield China

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Battlefield China Page 33

by James Rosone


  “OK, let’s assume America accepts that,” Secretary Landover said, playing devil’s advocate. “Then we will hold on to the territorial gains we have made in the war thus far. You can keep all of Southeast Asia, we’ll hang on to northern China all the way up to Beijing, along with the rest of Shanghai and the entire Guangdong Province.”

  Minister Wang’s mouth dropped open. Then he pounded his fist on the table and yelled, “Impossible, those lands must be returned!”

  After snickering at the exchange, General Bennet locked Minister Wang up with one of his icy stares. “I don’t think you understand the present situation, Minister Wang, so let me enlighten you. I have nearly two million soldiers preparing to attack the Beijing capital region. Beijing will be in my hands before the end of the year. By this time next year, we’ll occupy more than half of China. If you’re unwilling to see reason and agree to terms, then you won’t have a country left. Do I make myself clear?”

  For his part, Minister Wang looked first shocked, then appalled, and then angry. “You will never be able to subdue China. We have over a billion people.”

  “And how many of them will die this winter from starvation?” asked General Bennet. “How long do you think your people will support your government when you can no longer feed them, pay their wages, or provide them basic services? We are giving you an opportunity to save face and save your people. This offer won’t be on the table for long. When this meeting is over, my overall mission to crush your country into the sands of history will resume. You need to decide what kind of country will be left if I’m given my druthers to destroy you.”

  Secretary of State Landover held his hand up to stop the bickering between General Bennet and Minister Wang. “Please, gentlemen, this meeting is to discuss ending the war, not how many more people on both sides we intend to kill.”

  Pausing for a moment to look at his watch, Landover suggested, “Why don’t we break early and get ready for dinner? Perhaps some good food will open us all up to find some common ground we can work from.”

  *******

  Later that evening, after the official functionaries had spoken, and again, found little compromise, Major General Breedlove found himself sitting outside on one of the balconies overlooking the garden terrace below. He pulled a cigar out of his specially designed carrying case and lit it up, taking several puffs on it. The fragrance of the tobacco wafted its way through the air around him.

  He heard a shoe or boot scuff the tile behind him, and a solitary figure stepped out onto the balcony to join him. When Breedlove looked up, he smiled when he recognized his friend Yang, who had once again managed to slip past his minders and found a quiet place for them to speak. Pulling another cigar out, he handed it over to the Chinese general, who greedily took it. Yang puffed on the cigar to get it up to speed before settling into a seat next to Breedlove, who poured him a healthy-sized glass of some very fine cognac that the hotel had provided.

  The two sat there for a moment, sipping on their stiff drinks and enjoying their cigars. Breedlove reminisced about a time many years ago, back at the Citadel, when the two of them had done the very same thing toward the end of their senior year. Yang had just told him that he was not going to accept a commission in to the Army, and that his father was taking their family back to China. Breedlove had been sad to hear the news but even more so concerned when he’d heard Yang was going to take a commission in the People’s Liberation Army. He’d hoped that despite them serving their nations in their respective militaries, they wouldn’t find themselves adversaries one day.

  Yang didn’t spend long soaking in the moment; he must have sensed that time was of the essence. “I’ve given your question some thought, Larry. President Xi won’t agree to the terms your side is offering. He will order me to prepare the country to fight a protracted insurgency if necessary. If Xi can’t end the war on terms he can accept, then he is willing to make sure this war never ends, I’m afraid.” He slumped his body back into his chair, dejected. Yang picked up his drink, drained it, and then poured himself another glass as he waited for Breedlove’s response.

  For his part, Breedlove had known this was probably going to be the response they would be given. At least, that was the assessment of the CIA and other intelligence groups.

  “I guess it’s time to play that final card,” he thought reluctantly.

  Turning to face his friend, Breedlove threw back the rest of the brownish liquid in his glass before he made one last, desperate appeal. “Yin, this war has to end. We can’t allow our political masters to pursue a policy that will destroy the very people, the very nations you and I’ve sworn to serve and protect. There comes a time when even a soldier has to decide what is morally right, and what is right for the people we’re sworn to protect. If President Xi won’t see reason, then is it possible for you to take action yourself? As the head of the PLA, surely the army would follow your orders and this war would be ended, right?”

  Yang sat there for a moment, not saying anything. Then he chuckled slightly. “You think it’s that easy for a PLA general, even one who is head of the PLA, to simply disobey an order from the President—or worse, lead a coup? It isn’t quite that simple. Xi has already liquidated nearly everyone who was in a position of leadership at the start of this war. He has truly consolidated power these past three months. With defeat staring him in the face, he’s become more and more paranoid about a coup. I’m afraid you overestimate my power and influence. I’m only in charge of the PLA right now because he’s killed off most of my superiors and I’ve managed to eke out some victories against you Americans.” He shook his head disappointedly. “What you’re asking is just not possible, Larry.”

  Not accepting defeat, Breedlove pressed on with the alternative plan. “I know this is putting you into a tough position, Yin. What if the Allies just happened to discover where Xi and some of the individuals you believe would be a problem to accepting peace were, and they were suddenly killed by an Allied stealth bomber using specially designed bunker-buster bombs? If that were to happen, do you believe you’d be able to assume control of the country and then pursue a peace that would bring an end to this war?”

  Yin stifled a short laugh as he shook his head. “I remember studying Operation Valkyrie our junior year at the Citadel,” he retorted. Turning serious again, he whispered, “If I made this happen, you couldn’t miss. You couldn’t fail. If you failed, then I would most likely be removed, and I can guarantee you Xi would resort to using whatever means necessary to retaliate against you. He wouldn’t hold anything back.”

  “If we have to, we can use a nuclear-tipped bunker-buster bomb to make sure we get him and his inner circle. What we’d need to know is when and where to drop it,” Breedlove explained.

  “He might actually go for this,” he thought in amazement.

  Yang thought silently for a moment as he puffed on his cigar. Without looking at Breedlove, he answered, “If I arranged for them all to be at a meeting, I would need certain assurances that once I assumed control of the country, you wouldn’t try to go after my generals for war crimes. If we committed any wrongs, they were wrongs we had no choice in. Our military system doesn’t have the same moral codes and understandings as America or the West. We can’t simply disobey an order because we feel it’s immoral or illegal. We aren’t governed that way.” He leaned forward. “If this were to happen, the Allies would demand that we dismantle the communist party, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yes, the communist party would need to be disbanded in favor of a more democratic form of government,” Breedlove explained. “That’s why the US would like to see the mainland adopt the form of government currently in place in Taiwan. The Republic of China has a functioning democratic process with political parties, a legislature, court system and president. It would take time to implement that process on the mainland, but that’s why a caretaker government would need to be established to work with President Hung until a new election could take place and a ne
w government is established. I won’t lie and say it won’t be messy. It will be, but with you at the head of the government working with President Hung, I’m confident that China as a country will emerge stronger and better than ever before.

  “Yin, imagine China with not just freedom of speech, but freedom of thought. Freedom to innovate and capitalize on that innovation without the government seizing control of it or having a heavy hand in every aspect of life. You lived in America, Yin—surely you can see the benefit of this economic model and the personal freedoms it would provide.”

  “I don’t dispute the benefits—I question the method by which we would achieve that,” Yang countered. “It wouldn’t just be messy; it could cause the country to collapse into chaos. I would have to maintain a tight grip on the country while it went through this transition period, Larry. This wouldn’t be as easy as you may think. There are a lot of wealthy businessmen who have just as much control of our government as your wealthy businessmen do in your own country.”

  Shaking his head, Yin added, “I never wanted to be placed in this position, Larry. I’m in way over my head right now. I’m a corps commander. I understand tactics and I know how to fight…I was never a politician. I wasn’t trained for managing an entire country’s military, let alone fighting a global war. I just want it to end, but if I don’t do my duty or I screw things up, it’s not just me that will be killed—my entire family is at risk, Larry. This isn’t America…it’s China.”

  “This is why it has to change,” Breedlove asserted. “You’ve been given a unique opportunity to change China, Yin, and in doing so change the world, the future of humanity.”

  He slipped a piece of paper to General Yang. “If you can arrange the meeting, log in to this email. Create a new message with the subject line ‘Valkyrie.’ In the body of the message, state the date, time and location of the meeting. Don’t send the message to anyone—just save the draft and close the email. We’ll check this email at 0900 hours and 2100 hours your local time each day to see if you’ve been able to arrange a meeting. If you’re unable to coordinate all parties to be together, or there’s some other problem, then create an email that explains the issue and just save the draft. We can send a response to your question in a different color and font, using the same draft message. This will be our way of communicating, OK?”

  Yang took the paper. He looked at it for a minute, memorizing the login information and password before taking a couple of puffs on his cigar and then holding the paper up to the hot embers until it caught fire, destroying the information written on it. Then he got up. “I’ll be in touch, Larry,” he said. “Give me at least three days before I can figure something out.” With that, he left.

  The following day of peace talks dragged on with nothing gained. Minister Wang wanted them to meet again to make another attempt at a peace deal. Secretary Landover agreed but said they would have to get back with him as to when.

  In the meantime, the US would not agree to a continued ceasefire. The war would continue until the PRC accepted the Allied terms.

  Chapter 28

  Operation Valkyrie

  Beijing, China

  August First Building

  Ministry of National Defense HQ

  Barely two days had gone by since Yang had returned to Beijing, and the Americans had already resumed hostilities. Even now, the Allies were launching a massive offensive aimed at the Beijing capital region. Thus far, the Allies had been held at the outer perimeter, but that wouldn’t last for long. They were less than eighty kilometers from the August First Building—a sobering thought.

  The sense among the people at large was one of anger at their government for having gotten them into this position and despair that there was nothing they could do about it. Three years ago, the average Chinese citizen had had money in their pocket, food in their belly and a roof over their head. Now, the Chinese economy was in freefall, inflation was starting to run rampant, fuel and other supplies were in great shortage, and many people, if not everyone, either had a member of their family serving in the military or had a family member killed while serving in the military.

  The previous night’s Allied bombing raid on the industrial centers in the city of Tianjin had resulted in the death of nearly five thousand civilians. It had also killed more than three thousand soldiers and destroyed yet one more of Yang’s desperately needed armor brigades. He had been moving some of their strategic-level units such as heavy armor and mechanized units into heavily populated areas and industrial centers, in hopes that the Allies would not risk killing civilians in an effort to destroy his most prized units. That clearly had not worked.

  *******

  A few minutes went by as the other generals and staff officers waited for President Xi to arrive. One of the colonels stuck his head in the doorway, signaling that the President had arrived before he went back to his duties. The others in the room squirmed a bit in their chairs as they waited for Xi. The last forty-eight hours had been a disaster, and they knew the President would not be pleased.

  Without any preamble, Foreign Minister Wang walked into the room, quickly followed by several other ministers and then the President. Yang had to admit he didn’t know who half of the other ministers were at this point. Xi had been purging anyone he felt had failed him or the State these past few months. Between his purges and the Allies’ assassination bombings, there had been a lot of turnover in senior-level positions.

  Taking his seat at the center of the table, President Xi surveyed the faces of the men before him. After a moment, he settled his gaze on the two men sitting opposite him, General Yang Yin and Foreign Minister Wang Yi.

  “Gentlemen, you’ve been back from your peace talks with the Americans and their Allies for less than forty-eight hours, and in that timeframe, the Allies have launched a series of new offensives and even now threaten the outskirts of this very city. Account for yourselves!” he demanded. He fixed each of them with a death stare.

  Minister Wang fumbled for a few words as he sought to make sure Xi knew he had done everything in his power to convince the Allies that they had to agree to the terms he’d presented. The others at the table remained silent, almost stoic, as they listened to Wang describe how he had presented the facts to the Allies—that if they didn’t agree to Xi’s generous terms to end the war, China would pursue a hundred-year insurgency strategy, ensuring there would never be peace in China.

  For his part, Xi seemed utterly unconvinced by Wang’s assurances. Once the foreign minister had run out of steam, Xi nodded and then turned to General Yang.

  “What’s your assessment, General? Are future peace talks with the Allies worth it? Will the Allies accept the terms Minister Wang presented?”

  Yang thought about his response for a moment. He knew what Xi wanted to hear, but he also knew the truth. He sighed. “Sir, I believe it would be best if I spoke with you in private about my assessment of the meeting.”

  This response caught the others in the room by surprise. They were probably aware that General Yang’s assessment of the meeting would be the more realistic one, given his history of candor. After sitting through Minister Wang’s blundering recap, they had expected him to say something.

  President Xi smiled. “Clear the room,” he ordered. “Everyone out but General Yang.”

  Though no one’s comments were loud enough to trace back to any individual, there was a general murmur that swept over the room. All the ministers gathered their papers and got up as directed, though several of them had very sour expressions. They were obviously unhappy with being excluded.

  “The general doesn’t want to deliver the bad news in front of the others. Good, at least he has the sense to keep the truth to himself and those who actually need it.”

  Once the room had been cleared, Xi returned his gaze to General Yang. “I’ve always appreciated your forthrightness, General, but in this instance, I find myself grateful for your discretion. If the rest of those fools knew what bad sh
ape we were in, they’d probably be plotting my demise.”

  Yang bowed slightly.

  “Well, it’s just the two of us left,” said Xi. “I take it the meeting did not go well?”

  Yang tried to appear composed, but he knew the end for the PLA was near. He wondered if this was what the German generals had felt like during the last days of World War II, when the Russians were closing in on Berlin.

  “No, Mr. President,” he responded. “The Americans would not budge. From their perspective, they are winning. They see no reason to agree to the terms you told Wang to present.”

  Xi swore a few times as his temper got the better of him. Once he’d managed to calm himself a bit, he asked, “What parts of the proposal would they agree to?”

  “In principle, they agreed to our Greater China territorial claims, with a couple of exceptions. They insisted that Singapore and Thailand be returned to their people and that Formosa be allowed to officially declare its independence. They also insist on us denuclearizing,” he said, adding that last part almost as an afterthought.

  “They want us to yield our nuclear weapons? Why would they think we’d ever give them up?” Xi shot back.

  “Because we’ll never use them, and because we provided the North Koreans with the missiles that hit them,” Yang countered. Had there been anyone else in the room with them, he never would have said that to Xi.

  President Xi snorted. “I don’t know about never using them,” he retorted. “We just haven’t thought up a good enough plan for how to make them count.”

  Smiling at the comment, General Yang knew he had gotten Xi to walk into the trap he’d baited. “Sir, I believe I have an idea about how we can use them to our advantage, and perhaps end the war, once and for all.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, Xi asked, “How would we do that? And I thought you were dead set against using nuclear weapons.”

 

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