by Robert Lance
Anna was even quicker. “There are nine species of bats in the park. None of them bite, but two are vampire specie. The Desmodus Rotundus is the most common and feeds entirely on blood. Their colonies can run into the hundreds and they feed at night. None of the bats found here are endangered. So why are you really here?”
Perrotte had his antennae up. “Why are you asking?” he said.
Her green eyes flashed, and the pearl whites of her teeth sparkled. “Curious. I enjoy impromptu adventures.”
Was that a double entendre or an out right proposition? “We’re part of an exploration team to survey undiscovered parts of the underground river,” he said. Nothing very exciting, and frankly, it’s a dirty job.”
She batted her eyes innocently. “It sounds exciting to me. What I wouldn’t give to have a seat in your work boat.”
Perry said, “Sorry ma’am, we don’t allow civilians on the work boat. It’s too dangerous.”
She cocked her head. “It’s an odd turn of phrase, Jack.”
He asked, “What? It is dangerous work.”
“It’s odd that you use the term civilian.”
The team had been made as easy as the bearded lady at the fair. The aggressive inquiry of the nun didn’t comport to a meek soul decked out in a habit. The expensive camera wasn’t a nun’s accessory. She didn’t have rosary beads either. Anna Marie Benton, three inches short of being naked, was no nun. Perrotte scrutinized her from an all together different perspective.
She suddenly became a shy waif. She tucked her head and whispered. “I have a confession. My motives are less than pure.”
Gates said, “I’ll bet you can’t recite the act of contrition, and you don’t have a rosary to say penance.”
She laughed and nodded. Then she looked over her shoulder and shivered. There was an anguished plea in her voice as she spoke. “I can’t take another night at the Blue Moon. My accommodation there is unbearable. I was hoping I could prevail upon you to have a word with the manager here and open up a room.”
Perrotte said, “He’s not going to buy your story about being a nun, either.”
She lingered to see the disapproving smirk on Perrotte’s face. “It would seem I’ve found myself in the company of ‘Doubting Thomas.’ Thank you for the beer and nice meeting you.” She handed her bottle to Perry and hurried in the direction from which she came.
Four sets of eyes were riveted to the splendid figure strolling into a setting sun. When Sister Anna was out of earshot, Fitz said, “Nice move, Ted. I was getting into being a pest eradicator while pretending Sister Anna is a dirty minded nun.”
Perry said, “You blew that, Ted. The poor woman is having a housing crisis, and I think she had plans…you know what I mean? When was the last time you had your ashes haul?”
Perrotte paid no attention to his tormentors as he stared at the figure growing smaller on the beach. He finally said, more to himself than to the others, “She’ll be back.”
Gates said “Don’t think so, sport. You gave her a good splashing of holy water, so if she is a nun, she’ll go into sequestration for life.”
Perrotte said, “She left her camera.” He bent down and lifted the camera from the towel where she sat.
Perry reached for it, but Perrotte pulled back.
Perry said, “Give it to me. I can catch up to her.”
Perrotte said, “I think we’ll know more about Sister Anna once we take a look at what her photography interests are.”
Chapter Three
The president sat in the situation room glaring at his top advisors. He nodded occasionally as each took their turns briefing him on the China Sea incident. The Hamilton class cruiser of the Philippine Navy, with a crew of eighty-five men had been deliberately attacked by the Chinese. The Captain and sixty-one crewmen were killed or missing. None of the survivors knew whether the attack was airborne, surface launched missiles, a torpedo, or a mine. If the Philippine government knew, they weren’t releasing the information. Presumably, the Chinese were exercising their threat to occupy the Spratly Islands, one hundred thirty miles off the Philippine shores, and five hundred miles from China.
The president was more interested in the legal rights of the Chinese territorial claim to the islands. The Secretary of State told him the claim was at best tenuous. The Chinese based their claim on an ancient document going back to 2BC. Since the islands didn’t have an indigenous population, and the Chinese had not settled or made any attempts to make improvements to justify a sovereign claim, the islands were declared uninhabited property in international waters. All but a few of the islands were underwater at high tide, making them nothing more than maritime speed bumps to be avoided. Those that were above sea level did not have the ability to sustain any human habitat.
The claim by the Philippine Government to the islands was based on geography, national defense, and the exclusive economic zone of interest to the Philippines. The United Nations Convention of Laws on the Seas had tentatively supported the Philippine claim, and China had signed off on the findings. However, China had reneged, and was attempting to subvert the law by invoking squatter’s rights to the island group, by artificially dredging and building supportable islands.
The Secretary of Defense, Derek Fremd, said, “If China prevails unchallenged, China will be able to make a case for sovereignty, and therefore, have complete control of the South China Sea.”
The president sat through the long winded legal dogfight over who had claim, rights, or jurisdiction. He stopped the secretary in mid-sentence. He said, “It’s not going to happen. We cannot allow the Chinese to bully the weak nations who have legitimate claims. The United States will not allow any nation to restrict the free passage of the high seas. It stops today.”
The secretary continued. “The economic ramifications are huge, Mr. President. The Spratly Island chain has an estimated oil and natural gas reserve larger than Kuwait. The fishing rights alone are worth going to war over.”
The president said, “It looks like China has done just that. What can we expect from the Philippine response?”
“Not much. Past administrations have allowed the Philippines to slip into China’s sphere of influence. Our lack of commitment and leadership has given China a free hand to dribble the Philippines up and down the court. The ugly underside of it is, China is contracting U.S. and other foreign companies to explore and drill for oil in the area. If you are thinking about intervening, you won’t have any allies, and the court of public opinion will murder you as an adventurous imperial tyrant.”
The president smirked. “The timing is convenient. We’re in trade and monetary negotiations with the Chinese as we speak. We’re going to break their backs, I guarantee you.” He turned his gaze on the CIA Director. “Do you think this incursion into the China Sea is a ploy to undermine our negotiating position?”
“Yes and no.” said the director. “In 2014 the Chinese began stepping up military preparations to permanently occupy the islands. They’ve been dredging for years, and the fortification of the islands came to light under the Obama administration. We belly punched the Philippines by doing nothing. In fact, our inaction in the region is seen as a capitulation by WESTPAC nations. The sinking of the Philippine cruiser is a direct challenge to you personally. You’re being called out on your hard-line position across the board. It’s the move the Chinese have been waiting for. Any response will justify the Chinese walking away from the trade negotiations. On the other hand, they retaliate by staking their claims to the Spratly Islands. It’s a damned if you do, and damned if you don’t proposition.”
The president steepled his hands and tapped his nose, as though lost in thought. The room remained silent until the man had made up his mind. “What’s the military implications? What do we have available, and what options do we have? More to the point, what can the Chinese do...militarily?”
The Secretary of Defense (SECDEF) spoke on behalf of all the intelligence directors. “At present we ha
ve a Navy Carrier Group in the western Pacific that could knock down the Chinese wall of sand in a day. We would have to strike quickly, before the Chinese reinforce the three major fortified islands.”
“That sounds like a Chinese Pearl Harbor.”
“It’s what they want. China has the second largest navy, and whatever our response is, it will give them an excuse to deploy their navy into the Spratly Islands. In that scenario, we’d be faced with a pitched naval battle that would seriously damage our military capabilities. We believe the Chinese will be willing to sacrifice its entire fleet to secure the South China Sea. We could prevail militarily, but the political consequences would be horrendous for us and the Philippines.”
“That’s not an option. I have no intentions of going to war with China. The economic consequences are a risk to global stability. At the same time, I can’t allow them running room to make vassal states of one forth of the planet. The gloves are off and we need a knockout punch.”
The Director of the Defense Intelligence Agency spoke for the first time. “Sir, if I may. I have secure compartmental intelligence (SCI) for your eyes only. Everyone present has clearance, but I’ll leave that to your discretion.” He watched the president read the decrypted classified document. The president’s eyes grew as he consumed the information. When he finished, he closed his eyes and sucked in a couple lungs full of air. He spoke in a slow and measured voice. “How reliable is the source?”
“It’s speculative in nature, but a detailed analysis points to a better than even chance that the supposition of the document is correct.”
The president puffed up. “Are you telling me that the Chinese have militarized the Spratly Islands with tactical nuclear warheads, and we did nothing to verify actionable intelligence?”
The room hummed with rumbling angry murmurs. The president’s question was unanswered, and he exploded. “The people who let this happen should be hung from the front fence of the rose garden. Damned that moron.” His fist crashed on the document. “Someone tell me how the Commander in Chief would not have had this information?”
The secretary’s voice was barely audible. “The former president was briefed. The intelligence estimate, along with countermeasures, was shelved with no action taken. At the time, the administration had no interest in a possible confrontation with the Chinese over their claim to the Spratly Islands. The administration was absorbed with wishful thinking and canceled an intelligence operation to verify even the smallest allegation.” The secretary cleared his throat. “Materially, we have all the elements to support the document, but we don’t have physical proof that the Chinese have nukes on any of the Spratly Islands.”
“We can’t possibly flatten those islands, which is what I’d really like to do, but that’s not in play because of a potential nuclear disaster. Hell, I can’t even negotiate with them.”
“Sir, the SCI has amended counter-measures. We would need your authority to exercise the plan.”
The president squinted his eyes and thrust his jaw out. “I’m listening, Pete. What do you have in mind?”
“We’ve taken the precaution of sending an advance team to Puerto Princesa on the Philippine island of Palawan to set up a covert operating base. It’s called the ‘Alamo Project.’”
“I already don’t like the sound of it.”
The director laughed. and said, “It’s named after the lieutenant commander who wrote the project at the Naval War College.” The director proceeded to outline the essentials of the project. He summarized and said, “If we are successful, the Chinese will be stuttering morons with red faces standing in quick sand.”
The president’s jaw extended and his lips turned down. It was as if he were making a thorough escape plan if things went wrong. He bobbed his head for several moments of contemplation. He said, “Do it, Pete. Keep us in the loop, but under no circumstances do I want this to go beyond this room.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ZAMBOANGA PHILIPPINES. The United States Naval Special Operations Center was located in an abandoned ammunition bunker, staffed by a few marine and navy technicians. Alamo Jones’ six foot presence made him ten feet tall. He had the alert eyes of a predator as he scanned the mapping consoles in the planning room. Every twitch of a muscle seemed to have an electric effect, purposefully forced. His hair cut was marine buzzed. and the color was anyone’s guess. His bald eagle eyes were grey with sharp big black pupils. The expression on his face was bland, giving no indication what mood resided within him.
The U.S. Chief of Navy Special Operations, WESTPAC, was sitting at a console with his Filipino counterparts, concentrating on the screen in front of them. Captain Carter Holmes had come up through the intelligence community. His affable style earned him the nickname, “Watson.” His facial features were all too large for his head. Black horn rimed spectacles amplified his large oyster colored eyes. Short and slightly dumpy, he conjured up the image of “Watson.” His eyes lit up and a wide smile gaped when he saw Alamo enter the control center. He quickly dismissed himself and shuffled in Alamo’s direction, trying to avoid attention. He dispensed with formalities with a head shake aimed at the Filipino admiral watching them with a brutal grimace. “You’re going to have to help me out Alamo. We’re on eggshells, and the little bastards would like to fry us.”
Alamo returned a hardened stare at the admiral. His lips barely moved as he spoke. “What’s his choke point?”
“Admiral Salinas is pissed off because the response from the White House for the last three days has been ‘We stand behind our Filipino allies.’ The Philippine government can’t do shit but scream at the UN general assembly. Admiral Salinas would prefer the U.S. to stand in front, preferably, you and me against a wall with a firing squad.”
“Can you blame him? The last time we stepped in, MacArthur got on a U-boat and said ‘see ya around.’ Did you give him the mission overlay?”
“Yeah, in a round-about way, but he sees it as a pinprick to let gas out of the balloon. Talk to him.”
Alamo briskly walked to where the admiral sat and quickly introduced himself. He was deferential for about ten seconds into the conversation. Then he said, “Let’s cut to the chase, Admiral Salinas. Your government can’t win a shooting war with the Chinese, and if our government begins one, you won’t have a country. Your civilian government is half anti-American and the other half are ardent China supporters. I can’t say that I blame either side. The reality is this. The Chinese can take possession of the Spratly Islands and the Scarborough Shoals whenever they wish. They’re churning out heavy cruisers like sausages and building a navy to control the South China Sea.”
“Lieutenant Commander Jones, the Philippine government cannot allow China to sink our ships at will. We must respond to this blatant act of piracy. We must do something or surrender.” The admiral let his shoulders collapse and shook his head in disgust. “My own government wants to move our patrols inside the twelve-mile territorial zone.”
Alamo had a wry grin on his face. “Why did the Chinese fire on your cruiser? It’s a rather desperate gesture that doesn’t make sense. What was your cruiser doing in the area, and skip the bit about being on a routine patrol?”
Salinas clearly had a look of surprise on his face. “We were interdicting a suspicious cargo ship steaming towards Mischief Island. We suspected its cargo was prohibited military hardware.”
“If I may ask, what was the source of your suspicion, sir?”
“Do you have to ask? Your naval intelligence alerted us that the cargo ship’s port of origin was China’s Yulin naval base on Hainan Island.”
Alamo knew that the Yulin naval base was home port to the Chinese carrier group and a nesting facility for its nuclear sub fleet. Building on known facts, it stood to reason that Yulin had a land based defensive ring to protect the fleet in port. That defensive ring would include several batteries of tactical nuclear missile launchers.
Alamo had studied Chinese nuclear doctrine. It was a rather
passive doctrine that limited the use of nuclear weapons to second strike reaction to an attack on China’s sovereign territory. He had written a position paper on the subject. At some point, China would deploy nuclear launchers into the Spratly Islands, prior to moving its carrier fleet to dominate the South China Sea. China possessed over one hundred tactical missiles that could devastate any naval challenge. It was a simple matter of moving the missiles from Yulin to Mischief Island, eighty miles inside the Philippines economic enterprise zone. That’s what Salinas’ cruiser had stumbled across, and why it was sunk.
Alamo said, “The Chinese would not have attacked your ship unless the cargo ship was carrying something on the order of tactical nukes. Your government and mine…has been given a Cuban Missile Crisis.”
“Exactly, Commander. Your government isn’t overly excited by the prospect facing us. A token force of Navy SEALS is a pitiful insult. What can they possibly do?”
“Admiral, we need to find, identify, and expose those launcher sites to the world. It would be helpful to neutralize them. Our secondary mission is to locate and neutralize the tactical nukes wherever they are. This task must be done without tipping off the Chinese. That’s why our president is standing down. If we are successful, China wouldn’t dare move its fleet into the South China Sea, and they would be forced to honor the UNCLOS declaration.”
“What you’re speaking of is something our marines can do.”
“Admiral, there is subtle difference between a battle at sea and a battle on disputed land territory. China would declare war on the Philippines at the drop of a hat, and you would be the odd man out as the aggressor. We need your cooperation for Operation Alamo to proceed.”
Alamo saw that the seed had been planted in the reluctant admiral’s mind. The man had few options, and the ones being forced upon him were disasters in the making. The civilian government was tottering between capitulation and a rush to suicide. Either course of action was a win in the Chinese play book. Salinas understood, but trusting the Americans could make matters much worse and possibly a Chinese occupation of the Philippine Archipelago.