Enemy Contact

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Enemy Contact Page 24

by Mike Maden


  But if CHIBI could help crack this case, it would save Chen’s career—and, more important, his life.

  49

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  AMERICAN POLICY AND SECURITY INSTITUTE (APSI)

  Senator Dixon rose to a round of enthusiastic applause and approached the podium, flanked by teleprompters.

  She shook hands with a beaming Senator Blair, the retired former chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee. His impassioned introduction of her—some would call it a hagiography—was his blatant and rather ham-fisted attempt at securing the directorship of the ODNI in her administration after she was elected President.

  Fat chance, she told herself. But let him dream.

  The smiling faces of the American Policy and Security Institute board members in the front row were equally committed to a Dixon presidency, though for different reasons. Over the last three years, she had elevated the status and reputation of the think tank, opening doors to Chinese military, political, and ministerial elites that few others could enter. Because of this access, APSI now held private meetings with the most important players in Congress, in the Pentagon, and on Wall Street.

  Thanks to its pivot from European to Asian security and economic matters, APSI was now the most influential think tank in D.C.

  Best of all, they were exceedingly well funded. The Center for East-West Progress and Advancement (CEWPA), a Hong Kong nonprofit, had selflessly underwritten all of the institute’s administrative and personnel costs, provided generous salary increases for senior fellows, added five new administrative staff positions, and fully funded two additional endowed chairs for the study of Chinese-American relations and East-West peace studies. The director of CEWPA, Dr. Lixia Yang, was in attendance tonight, along with her husband and two beautiful daughters.

  Senator Dixon’s speech tonight would further solidify the institute’s reputation when she announced her presidential campaign. It would also burnish Dr. Yang’s status with CEWPA’s board of directors and, more important, with the head of the United Front Work Department, an organ of the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party, which secretly funded CEWPA’s operations.

  * * *

  —

  Ladies and gentlemen,” Dixon began, “I want to thank you for your warm welcome, and especially to Dr. Lixia Yang and CEWPA for your friendship and generosity, and in particular to Senator Blair for his years of service to our great nation and his kind introduction.

  “It has been my pleasure and privilege to work with APSI over the last several years, and I’ve come to rely on both the brilliant scholarship and the practical insights of its incomparable contributors and fellows.

  “More important, ASPI’s commitment to the safety, peace, prosperity, and progress of our great republic is unquestioned and unfailing. It takes a special kind of moral and intellectual courage to stand against the tide of popular trends, rooted in familiar ideas and old habits.”

  Dixon paused for effect.

  “But as all of us who are gathered here tonight know, what is popular isn’t always right, and what’s right isn’t always popular.”

  Applause rippled throughout the packed auditorium.

  “NATO was formed in the aftermath of World War Two, when Europe was in ruins and a vast Soviet Army stood poised to sweep across the Continent. NATO was designed to be a bulwark against the Soviet empire and its stated desire to spread Soviet-style Communism across the globe. NATO’s mission was right, noble, and good. Best of all, it worked. Containing Soviet expansion not only saved the world from Soviet domination, it amplified the fatally flawed contradictions of its command economy, leading to its collapse from within.

  “But containing Soviet aggression also bought enough time for Western Europe to recover from the devastation of the war. The European Union is now the largest economic entity on the planet, larger even than the United States, let alone China, Russia, or Japan.

  “In short, NATO won the Cold War, and the Cold War is over because the Soviet Union no longer exists. The purpose of NATO died with the death of the Soviet Union. Now, does that mean Russia is no longer a threat? Hardly. Russian aggression is real. I would even argue that Russian aggression is still pointed west. The question now is, how do we address it?

  “The purpose of NATO is to defend Europe, and we defend Europe not by fighting wars, but by preventing them. But in the last few years under the Ryan administration, we have fought not once but twice with the Russians. Clearly, the Ryan administration has failed to prevent war.

  “To be fair, I give him credit for standing up to the Russians once hostilities began. But to be equally candid, I also fault him for allowing it to happen in the first place. And why did it happen? There are three answers to this question.

  “First, the largest European NATO members—France and Germany, to be specific—have not lived up to their treaty commitments to NATO, particularly in regard to finances. We have footed the bill for NATO far too long.

  “Second, NATO is supposed to be a defensive organization. But NATO keeps expanding its membership to include members of the former Communist bloc. NATO continues advancing eastward toward the Russian border. It’s understandable how even a reasonable Russian administration might view this as an aggressive posture. But more to the point: How is NATO better defended by making treaty commitments to go to war on behalf of Montenegro, Latvia, or Iceland?

  “The recent attempt by the Ryan administration to unilaterally commit the United States to a permanent forward base in Poland was the height of folly. Such a base would prove to be an unnecessary provocation of the Russians, and that is why I opposed it.”

  This elicited a strong round of applause.

  “Third, the United States itself, for all of its inflated defense spending—equal to the spending of the next eight countries combined—is still woefully unprepared to actually defend the European continent. We need at least twenty brigade combat teams to fight and win a war in Europe; we currently only have fifteen in total for all of our global defense commitments, and only three of those BCTs are in Europe. But of the fifteen we have, only five are in full readiness. How can this be? In a different administration . . .”

  She paused, a wide smile brightening her handsome face.

  “Or should I say in a Dixon administration, this would not stand.”

  Thunderous applause erupted around the room. It quickly rose to a standing ovation. Dixon beamed, obviously pleased. She let it ride for a while, finally lifting one well-manicured hand to quiet the crowd.

  “My legislative record regarding national security is without peer on Capitol Hill. I believe in a strong and vigorous national defense, with the latest weapons and best-trained soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines. I have also supported our strategic alliances around the globe. But I also believe in everyone paying their fair share. After seventy years of American leadership, American treasure, and, yes, American blood, isn’t it time for Europe to defend itself?”

  She paused again. Another explosion of approval.

  “Let us remind ourselves: NATO is a mutual defense pact, and Article Five of the NATO treaty states that an attack on one member state shall be treated as if an attack has been made against all. In the age of nuclear weapons, the next world war may well prove to be a holocaust. If the Russians decide to invade Montenegro or Iceland or Poland, we are legally bound to declare war against the Russians. I, for one, am not willing to shed one American life for the sake of Montenegro—let alone risk the destruction of our entire nation because of an antiquated and outmoded treaty obligation from seventy years ago. If Europeans won’t fight and die to defend Europe, why should Americans?”

  This was the question. The one that would differentiate her from Ryan and the neocons in his administration, who would throw their weight behind another candidate who fell in line with them, including some people sitting in this room tonight.
She had to make her point.

  “Some might argue that we have to defend Europe even if Europe won’t do the job because it’s in our national interest. It reminds me of the Domino Theory. Remember? Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson all told us we had to fight in Vietnam to prevent the rest of Southeast Asia from falling to Communism. And fight we did! American armed forces fought valiantly and brilliantly against the North and South Vietnamese Communists. We never lost a single battle. And yet, having won every battle, we lost the war, at the cost of over fifty thousand American lives.

  “What was the result? Southeast Asia—Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia—all fell to the Communists. Was our country subsequently threatened by these events? Did our way of life change? No. In fact, all of those countries are now falling all over themselves to do business with us. The Domino Theory was right—and it didn’t matter.

  “As I said before, what is right isn’t always popular. NATO was a brilliant success, but its time has passed. The purpose of American foreign policy should be to serve the interests of the American people, not the interests of the Europeans.

  “We need new partnerships, new alliances, new ways of thinking. The Ryan doctrine of expanding our military commitments in Europe has turned NATO into a mutual suicide pact. We need a new kind of leadership. We need a new kind of world that guarantees peace and freedom for the United States through strength and cooperation. China is the natural bulwark against Russian expansion into Europe. The future belongs to America and China, the two strongest national economies and the two strongest militaries on the planet.

  “What NATO did for Europe in the last century, a Sino-American partnership will do for the entire world this century and the one to come. Thank you, and good night.”

  50

  FRENCH GUIANA

  CENTRE SPATIAL GUYANAIS (CSG)

  The SpaceServe heavy-payload G-series (“Goddard”) rocket stood on the recently constructed SS-1 launchpad. The scheduled night launch would put not one but three of the latest Malaysian MEASAT communications satellite payloads into a geosynchronous transfer orbit (GTO) at 91.5 degrees east. Launch was just thirty seconds away.

  Tonight’s G-series launch was the first at the Centre Spatial Guyanais facility. The first had been fired at Cape Canaveral eight months ago, successfully placing the Azerbaijani Intelsat 39 into orbit at 45 degrees east.

  The second G-rocket launched out of Vandenberg AFB two months later and successfully placed one of the new Advanced Extremely High Frequency (AEHF) communications satellites into orbit for the Air Force. The satellite also carried a secret CIA comms package operated by the National Reconnaissance Office and tied into the IC Cloud.

  Tonight’s launch was critical. The Malaysian government had committed to four more launches if tonight’s proved successful. Singapore and Thailand were equally interested in this highly successful second generation of SpaceServe rockets. SpaceServe’s smaller N-series (“Newton”) had been successful, but far too many private and public contractors were nailing the low-to-mid-payload range, often with tax-subsidized funding. SpaceServe’s future depended entirely on the G-series heavy-lifters.

  The G-series was currently the most powerful rocket deployed in the world. The first stage, comprising two boosters and a central core, deployed thirty engines that generated well over five million pounds of thrust at launch—the equivalent of sixteen Airbus A380 aircraft.

  Its nearest competitor was the future European Ariane 6 A64 heavy-lift rocket, but it was experiencing severe development delays and wouldn’t be available for launch for at least two more years.

  The best news of all, though, was the phone call Elias Dahm received from the head of NASA yesterday. The Ryan administration was actively seeking alternatives to the ultradependable Atlas V rocket because of its reliance upon the Russian RD-180 main engine. The American-built G-series was the obvious first choice for a replacement. Dahm hated the Ryan administration’s policies, but he was happy to cash their checks.

  Many governments were watching tonight’s launch. Billions in future contracts for SpaceServe, including ones with the U.S. government, were at stake. Tonight’s successful launch would secure them all.

  SpaceServe, a subsidiary of CloudServe, was Elias Dahm’s greatest dream: a platform that would allow him to build a rocket fleet to rival those of the spacefaring nations and their private contractors. His goal was to put the first manned rocket on Mars and inaugurate the colonization of the Red Planet. Unknown to most, Dahm had founded CloudServe only as a means to achieve his SpaceServe vision.

  The G-series was designed for heavy payloads and, ultimately, manned spaceflight. He had staked CloudServe’s future on SpaceServe and the G-series in particular, borrowing heavily against CloudServe assets to finance the capital-intensive operations. SpaceServe had invested more than $1 billion developing the new SS-1 integration and launch facilities at CSG, and designing the “SpaceCloud” for all CSG operations.

  The CSG facility location in French Guiana was ideal for tonight’s launch. Established in 1964 by the French space agency (CNES), it had been continuously upgraded by the French, European, and even Russian space agencies for a variety of commercial, scientific, and military satellite launches. Because it was closer to the equator than any American spaceport at 5.3 degrees north latitude, less energy and fuel were required to place a satellite into geostationary equatorial orbit than a pad located in California or Florida. An infantry regiment of the French Foreign Legion provided base security.

  Elias Dahm stood in the SpaceServe remote mission control center in Fremont, California, which was jointly monitoring the liftoff with the CSG launch control facility. His eyes were fixed on the eighty-five-inch monitor with a live feed from the Guiana SS-1 launchpad and the 232-foot rocket standing on it. Forty-five smaller displays at the fifteen stations around him in Fremont monitored every technical aspect of the launch, from hardware to software. Live audio from French Guiana launch control was full of chatter from the mission management team, including the range control officer and finally the launch director, who each gave their “go for launch” commands.

  Flight computers had already taken control of the launch sequence. The countdown advanced by digital numbers on the screen and also in audio: a woman’s voice speaking in heavily accented English. The audio countdown was pure PR for the live Internet feed, a nod to the melodramatics of Fritz Lang’s 1929 film Woman in the Moon.

  “Three, two, one, zero, ignition . . .”

  Thirty roaring launch engines fired, lighting up the night sky. The vehicle rose majestically as the hold-down arms and the service structure umbilicals fell away.

  The two launch centers erupted with cheers and applause. Dahm high-fived the technicians seated around him, a victorious grin plastered on his handsome face.

  A graphic superimposed on the video image displayed telemetry stats of speed and distance. Seventy seconds into the flight, the G-rocket reached a height of 10.5 kilometers and a speed of 1,234.8 kilometers per hour—the speed of sound.

  With applause still ringing in his ears, Dahm watched a ball of flame erupt from one of the booster nozzles, and in less than a second the entire second stage was enveloped in explosive fire.

  The room quieted, as if a volume knob had been turned down.

  The range safety officer calmly announced he was initiating the remote destruct sequence.

  A moment later, the night sky erupted with the resulting supernova of burning liquid oxygen and RP-1 rocket fuel propellant. Most of the rocket’s fiery wreckage rained down harmlessly over the Atlantic Ocean, while some engine components crashed on infamous Devil’s Island, evacuated during each launch in case of just such an occasion.

  An explosion of technical and emergency chatter flooded the audio and the room Dahm stood in. No one dared look at him. Everybody involved understood the magnitude of this catastrophe, none better than Dahm.

>   He stared ashen-faced at the image on the widescreen.

  Flaming embers trailed through the night sky like falling stars, dying out as they splashed into the cold, dark Atlantic.

  51

  THIRTY KILOMETERS NORTH OF BEYNEU, KAZAKHSTAN

  Cluzet’s three-truck convoy of blood-red JAC tractor-trailer rigs had been rolling along at a good speed since descending from the jagged, snowcapped mountains of Afghanistan down into the verdant greenery of Tajikistan. But the farther north and west they drove, the drier it got, finally hitting the desiccated edges of the borderless Kyzylkum Desert, a wild, hellish expanse of dehydrated moonscape stretching from Uzbekistan through Kazakhstan along the E40. As they traveled at night, it felt like they were moving through the belly of the sea, surrounded on all sides by the suffocating dark.

  The convoy had fueled up at Beyneu and was making good time. They were on a tight schedule to arrive in just under forty-eight hours. Part of the payment bonus to his crew depended on arriving on time; earlier was better, but certainly not possible at this point. Late would prove difficult. Too late would prove fatal.

  The endless miles, the constant thrumming of the big diesel engines, and the warmth of the cab lulled the former paratrooper into a waking dream of a Senegalese woman he once knew. The Chinese driver was similarly hypnotized, apparently. Neither man saw the spike strip draped across the narrow two-lane asphalt, but they sure as hell heard it when the big front tires first blew, followed by the next six. The driver stomped on the air brakes instinctively when the front tires erupted on the sharpened steel. The trailer fishtailed behind him as the entire rig skidded to a thundering halt.

  Shouts from his men in the two other trucks crackled in his earpiece, asking what happened.

  Before Cluzet could speak, a bar of bright lights flashed on a quarter-mile ahead.

  Cluzet lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes. Through the blinding glare of the lights he made out what appeared to be the outline of a “technical”—a small pickup truck with a machine gun mounted in the open bed. He assumed at least one man on the machine gun and one driving, and likely a third in the vehicle.

 

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