Flash Point

by Kenneth Andrus

  “The Foreign Ministry has also denounced U.S. support and arms sales to Taiwan as a gross interference in Chinese affairs,” Payne added.

  “I have more on that, Mr. President.”

  “Yes, Richard?”

  “A Foreign Ministry spokesman quoted Zhu as saying the Chinese people would do their utmost to strive for the peaceful resolution of this crisis. He went on to say the People’s Republic of China would not permit the continued sponsorship by the illegal government in Taipei of terrorists targeting innocent fishermen and ended by saying that to ensure the security of the homeland, the People’s Liberation Army would immediately conduct defensive maneuvers.’”

  Stuart shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Zhu. Was there anything else?”

  “Yes, the rest of the statement read:

  ‘We are a threat to no nation. Our military is defensive and we have no history of invading other countries, but let me be very clear on one point. China is prepared to respond with various levels of force if our level of tolerance is exceeded.’”

  “Hold up.”

  “Sir?”

  “This is being driven by Xiao.”

  Brown tossed his notebook on the coffee table. “I suspect there’re any number of Beijing’s neighbors who would beg to differ on the first part of that statement. Sheldon, correct me if I’m wrong, but the PLA has conducted offensive operations against Korea in ’52, India in ’62, Vietnam in ’75, and India again in ’79 and ’20.”

  “You missed one, Justin. They also fought the Russians along the Assuri River in ’69. I would also point out Zhu’s—”

  “Or Xiao’s,” Stuart said.

  “Or Xiao’s choice of the word ‘nation’ in his comments is worth noting. Beijing does not recognize Taiwan as a nation.”

  “The wording isn’t accidental,” Valardi acknowledged. “Something’s happened.”

  “Richard, contact the embassy and find out what’s going on in Beijing. This situation is spinning out of control. We must presume the PLA is using their defensive maneuvers to mask final preparations for an assault.”

  “We believe that’s their intent,” Lawson confirmed.

  “Will they push beyond Itu Aba?”

  “There’s a high degree of probability they’ll attack the Pescadors, Mr. President.”

  “Any others?”

  “We can’t dismiss Pagasa. We’ll have something more definitive by this afternoon.”

  “Bob, is that island north of Mischief Reef at risk?”

  “Nanshan? If Beijing has made the decision to occupy Itu Aba, it would make sense for them to complete their occupation of the Spratlys. We have confirmation that elements of the Chinese Marine’s First Brigade were transported to Hainan Island and are preparing to embark on amphibious ships of their Independent Landing Ship Regiment.”

  “Can we get the AFP on board?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have Admiral Cortez get on the horn and explain the situation to their Chief of Staff.”

  “What about Montalvo?” Valardi asked.

  Stuart paused, massaging his chin in thought before replying. “I just don’t know where he’d come down. In any event, this is moving too fast. We have to move without him.”

  “We already have components of Expeditionary Strike Group Five engaged in training exercises with the Filipinos,” Payne said before Valardi could respond.

  “Who’s it built around?”

  “Boxer and the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit. PHIBRON 8 is the command element. We could provide an immediate assist to Manila under the guise of supporting the Philippine Navy.”

  “What’s our cover?” Stuart probed.

  “We’ve caught a break. The AFP already put out a press release saying that elements of their Special Ops team would be integrated with the Marines and conduct a mock raid on an island west of Palawan province.”

  “I want Marines on that island within twenty-four hours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stuart felt good about the decision but wanted to hedge his bets. “Bob, what else can we do?”

  “We can offer the AFP our amphib assets to transport their 3rd Marine Brigade and 2nd Scout Ranger Battalion to Pagasa.”

  “Alert PACOM. If the Chinese are intent on tangling with the Nationalists, I want to limit the collateral damage by sending a message that we also have a level of tolerance that should not be tested.”

  “Mr. President.”

  Valardi’s voice had a pitch that set Stuart on edge. “Yes?”

  “Listen to us. Are we seriously discussing war with China? There can’t possibly be any good outcomes.”

  “Explain that to Beijing,” Payne said.

  “We shouldn’t suffer from any delusions about our capacity to predict the ultimate outcome of such an action.”

  “I don’t see how we’re complicit.”

  “I understand that, Sheldon,” Valardi countered. “Do you have an alternative?”

  “I spoke with Taipei’s Defense Minister yesterday,” Payne said. “I told him he’d be well served to suspend his war games, and if he didn’t, he’d have to deal with the consequences.”

  Valardi recovered. “How’d he respond?”

  “Said that his government would consider our request.”

  “Are you sure he understands I have no intention of intervening militarily short of an all-out invasion of the main islands?” Stuart said.

  “I emphasized that point.”

  A clicking noise prompted Stuart to look at Valardi. He was fidgeting with his pen. “Richard?”

  “Taipei’s Foreign Minister informed me the Chinese have not acknowledged their apology over the loss of life, or their overtures to discuss any misunderstanding.”

  “Preconditions?”

  Beijing hasn’t said anything.”

  Stuart threw up his hands. “Why shouldn’t I be surprised? That’s keeping to form. The last time I spoke with Zhu, he wasn’t interested in discussing my point of view either.”

  Valardi grimaced. “Do you think he heard you?”

  “If he’s out of the picture, what he thinks is irrelevant,” Stuart answered.

  “There is one point we shouldn’t overlook,” Brown said

  “What’s that, Justin?”

  “Aside from pushing a sequence of moves calculated to rattle the governments in the region, the PLA hasn’t attacked anyone.”

  “Yet,” Payne observed.

  “Perhaps Xiao is just playing a calculated game of chicken and wants to see how we respond?” Valardi replied.

  “That’s unacceptable. We’ve been down that road before.”

  “True,” Valardi acknowledged, “but the stakes haven’t been this high. I don’t think we should be operating under any allusions as to what the Chinese want. Beijing has been very clear on this point. We can choose to ignore their words at our own peril.”

  Stuart relented, admitting Valardi’s point. It would be foolish to abandon the possibility of a diplomatic solution. “Can we get them to the table?”

  “Not very likely if Xiao is behind this,” Payne responded.

  Valardi snapped the cover back on his pen. “That’s our problem. Beijing isn’t interested in talking.”

  “We may have caught a break,” Payne said.

  Stuart wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “A break?”

  “There’s been a lot in the media about Japan’s reaction to the Chinese nuclear sub,” Payne replied, “but no one seems to have the slightest clue about what’s going on out there.”

  “True,” Lawson said, “nobody appears to have connected the dots.”

  “What’s your point, Bob?”

  “If we have to resort to the use of force, we may be able to apply it in such a way that only impacts the PLA.”

  “And?”

  “If they don’t talk and we don’t have a leak, no one will be the wiser.”

  “Is that possible?”

  Valardi h
ad no idea what they were talking about. “I’d appreciate knowing what Sheldon’s working on.”

  “Okay, but briefly.”

  “We have a number of contingency plans Admiral Cortez has been working at PACOM. One of those involves the use of our special op forces. If called on, they would execute a low visibility mission to strike selected strategic targets to inflict maximum damage to their command and control infrastructure.”

  “My God, Sheldon. Are you talking about a pre-emptive strike?”

  Stuart clenched his fist. “No, he isn’t.”

  “It would be prudent to consult our allies,” Valardi said.

  “No. It’s my decision. I don’t want this, but if we’re forced to act, we’re damned well going to win. The Pacific will not be lost on my watch. Is that understood?”

  Valardi began to object, but had run out of things to say. “I understand, Mr. President.”

  “Richard, find out what’s happened to Zhu. If he’s no longer in control, a diplomatic solution to this crisis may well be off the table. And Bob, I want somebody I can trust to keep an eye on the Nanshan Island mission.”

  Lawson went through the list of possibilities in his mind, settling on one. “If we can get that SEAL who led the mission on Drummond Island, I’d send him.”

  “Rohrbaugh, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “See what you can do.”

  Chapter 47

  U.S.S. BOXER LHD-4

  NANSHAN ISLAND

  06:35 SUNDAY 27 JULY

  Mike Rohrbaugh navigated his way through the passageways leading from the command center of the Expeditionary Strike Group to the well deck of the USS Boxer. He had just reviewed his orders with the other officers at the confirmation brief, providing them an explanation for the sudden change in their exercise. They had given him the call sign ‘Eyes One’ in recognition of his new role.

  The Certification Exercise had been scripted to be a combined training evolution with the Philippine Special Forces, but the script changed. The grunts of Kilo and Lima Companies, 3rd Battalion 4th Marines he encountered on the well deck were pushing 5.56mm rounds into their magazines. Not a normal procedure for a practice assault. Bathed in diffused red light, they appeared to be indifferent to the dull rumbling of their landing crafts’ idling engines in the cavernous space.

  The younger Marines clustered together making small talk, an action betraying their nervousness. Their NCOs were more circumspect. Most had at least one combat tour in Afghanistan and wondered what was up. They had hit their racks expecting to wake up and spend the day crossing off another block on their exercise. The day’s schedule hadn’t included live fire.

  “Gear up, Marines,” the company Gunny bellowed. “Get your lazy butts off the deck and form up over here. The Captain’s got something to say.”

  Rohrbaugh smiled and wove his way through the mass of men on his way to the flight deck. The Marines were in for a big surprise. He’d been surprised when he learned what they were to do.

  He encountered the watertight door leading to the deck and gave an upward heave to the lever arm. He swung the door open and stepped into the morning light. The sun backlit the four CH-53E heavy lift helicopters of HMH-463 that would transport the initial assault force to Nanshan Island.

  A pair of Super Cobra helicopter gunships spotted on the flight deck just forward of the 53s would serve as their escorts. Rohrbaugh was thankful he’d never have to be on the receiving end of their fire. The air detachment personnel had things well in hand. His thoughts turned to the person who greased the skids for his orders.

  He’d barely stepped foot on O’ahu when he was handed a one-way ticket on a civilian airliner headed for the Philippines. Landing in Manila, he was whisked to a two-engine military plane that flew him to an isolated airfield on Palawan Island. There, a waiting Navy helicopter ferried him to the Boxer. Whomever wanted his eyes on the ground wielded a considerable amount of clout.

  “Impressive, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are,” Rohrbaugh replied without looking at the speaker who’d appeared at his side. He fixed his eyes on the other two amphibious ships of the Expeditionary Strike Group. The Fort Fisher and the Denver carried the other elements of Three-Four’s combat and support elements that would follow the assault wave. “I see you found your way to daylight.”

  Lieutenant Angelo Torres, Philippine Navy Special Forces, didn’t skip a beat. “Part of my escape and evade training.”

  Rohrbaugh relented and extended his hand. Torres’ grip was strong, assured. “I was briefed on your rescue mission. Strong piece of work. Welcome aboard.”

  “This time around, I hope our reception won’t be so exciting,” Torres yelled over the mounting noise of the helicopters’ engines.

  “Roger that,” Rohrbaugh replied.

  The two men stood apart keeping their own council until Kilo company’s Marines poured out of the superstructure and began to form up on the deck.

  Rohrbaugh slung his rifle and pointed to one of the helicopters. “Time to mount up. Empire One, Kilo’s company commander, is in the first bird. We’re riding in that one, Dash Two.”

  Torres spun his forefinger over his head mimicking a rotating propeller to alert his men. “Saddle up.”

  The assault force gave a wide berth to the whirling blades of the tail rotors and filed up the ramp of their helicopters. The noise was deafening.

  Rohrbaugh’s 53 crew chief pointed to the canvas benches lining each side of the aircraft, then handed him a handset plugged into the helicopter’s internal communication system. He stepped aside to watch the twenty Marines of Second platoon, Kilo Company, fill the remaining seats.

  A moment later, Rohrbaugh felt the rotor blades’ torque rock the aircraft. He turned and gave Torres a thumbs-up as the aircraft lifted off the deck. They would be over Nanshan Island in a matter of minutes.

  “Pegasus flight! Break Right! Tracers 3 o’clock! Break right!”

  Rohrbaugh braced at the warning transmitted through his headset. A number of Marines on his side of the aircraft weren’t so fortunate, and tumbled out of their seats.

  “Deuce’s losing power. Smoke’s coming from his starboard engine,” the pilot shouted. “Shit, they’ve taken rounds. He’s trying for that clearing on the far side of the runway.”

  Rohrbaugh did a quick assessment and yelled back. “Can you patch me through to Empire One?”

  The pilot pointed at Rohrbaugh’s handset.

  “Empire One. Empire One. Eyes One.” Rohrbaugh repeated the call. “Empire One. Eyes One.”

  “Copy, Eyes One.”

  “Empire One. We will take the hostiles.”

  “Copy that, Eyes One. You’re engaging the hostiles.”

  Rohrbaugh keyed his handset to alert the pilot. “Did you spot them?”

  “Concealed position to the right of that concrete building.”

  “Can you set down?”

  “Affirm,” the pilot said swinging the 53 around so his right door gunner had a clear field of fire. The gunner didn’t need to be prompted. A stream of spent .50 caliber shell casings rained down on the floor as the heavy machine gun’s rounds swept the area.

  “Deuce is down,” the pilot yelled. “I’ve got Marines egressing the aircraft.”

  “Roger that,” Rohrbaugh acknowledged over the words of his pilots verifying there were no obstructions in their landing site; ‘Clear right. Clear left.’

  The 53 settled firmly on the ground in a cloud of dust and flying debris. Rohrbaugh grabbed the shoulder of the Marine platoon commander.

  “Join up with your skipper. Torres and I will engage the hostiles.”

  The Marine darted a quizzical look.

  “We don’t want Marines killing Chinese. This exercise is going to shit. It’s going to be easier to explain if the Filipinos are defending themselves.”

  Rohrbaugh thought they might have a chance to contain the situation until he saw one of the Cobra gunships unle
ash a torrent of 20mm cannon fire at the anti-aircraft gun site. The gun emplacement vanished in the hail of fire. Hovering over Deuce’s helicopter, the other Cobra’s nose turret traversed to the same target.

  “Go, go, go,” Rohrbaugh yelled pushing the platoon commander toward the 53’s rear ramp.

  “Everyone dial in,” Rohrbaugh screamed over the mounting noise. “We gotta move.”

  The Marines poured over the ramp, deploying in an assault formation. The eleventh man out screamed, staggered forward several steps, and fell to the ground.

  “Man down.”

  The platoon’s corpsman dropped next to the fallen Marine, tore a tourniquet from his Unit One and tightened it around the Marine’s thigh.

  Muzzle flashes twinkled from the tree line. Rohrbaugh dodged around the two men and sprinted toward his objective giving them only a glance. It was obvious the Navy corpsman had done this before.

  Rohrbaugh swiveled his head and spotted Torres. “We’re going to take down that position.”

  A rocket propelled grenade exploded, showering them both with dirt and a spray of shrapnel. Torres leveled his rifle, emptied one magazine, and slammed in another.

  A second grenade detonated with a thunderous boom. The shockwave slammed into their chests, knocking them both off their feet. Dirty-brown smoke from the round’s impact hung suspended in the air.

  Torres reacted first. “Contact right. Counter fire.” Coming to a knee, he tore a grenade from his web-belt. He lobbed it at the concealed gun position and charged.

  Rohrbaugh shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. He pulled himself up and took off after him. Crazy son of a bitch.

  One of Torres’ men spun, clutched his abdomen, and went down writhing in pain. Rohrbaugh slowed, grabbed the soldier’s leg, and dragged him out of the line of fire. Sliding down next to Torres, he turned the soldier on his back to apply pressure to the wound. “Hang in there. You’re going to make it.”

  Torres opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the structure in front of them erupted in a ball of fire.