by Mike Maden
“It’s a bloody business, all the way around,” Pearce said into his cup. “Better them than our guys.”
“Agreed,” Myers finally admitted. She studied Pearce’s face. The lines around his eyes had deepened.
“By appearing to have knocked out their own aircraft carrier, the Chinese military is now discredited with the Politburo, and so is their adventurism. Feng’s, too, for that matter. And the North Koreans can’t be feeling very confident about their old ally. They’ve already withdrawn their MIRV from the launching pad and put it back in storage.”
“The Chinese don’t know we did it?” Myers frowned with disbelief.
“I reminded President Sun that the Liaoning was an old Ukrainian design and that the same government that built the Chernobyl nuclear power plant built his carrier. Maybe the turbines were defective. Maybe they caused a fire that led to a catastrophic munitions explosion. It’s happened before.”
“And he believed you?” Myers asked.
Lane smiled. “President Sun was quick to accept that explanation—a way to save face. But he asked us not to report it. I agreed. So has Prime Minister Ito. Officially, the sinking never happened. Informally, we all agreed the loss of the Liaoning was an unfortunate tragedy and a national embarrassment that President Sun would rather not discuss.”
“But he doesn’t really believe your story, does he?”
Lane shrugged. “Sun suspects we did it, I’m sure, or the Japanese. Possibly even the Taiwanese. But what incentive does he have to point a finger at anybody? We’ve done him a huge favor by taking out his two biggest political opponents. And the last thing he needs is a full-scale shooting war with us. Officially, we’ve denied any involvement. He also knows we immediately launched rescue operations, along with the Japanese, and made emergency arrangements for Chinese aircraft to land at Japanese and Taiwanese bases. A gesture of goodwill and, I believe, the beginning of a new strategic partnership. I’m flying out to Beijing in five days for an official state visit, just as soon as Gaby and her team can make all the arrangements.”
“Politics,” Pearce grunted.
“Yes, politics,” Lane said. “Feng and Ji were Sun’s two biggest political threats, but not anymore. Now they’re at the bottom of the East China Sea or in chains on their way to a secret prison somewhere, along with a half dozen other senior conspirators. And the other CMC vice chairman, General Chen, put a bullet in his brain last night. We’ve just handed President Sun a clear path to the military and anticorruption reforms he so desperately wanted.”
“At the cost of thousands of Chinese sailors’ lives,” Myers said.
“The Chinese shot the bullet; we just moved the target,” Pearce said.
“If Ji hadn’t launched the Wu-14, those Chinese sailors would still be alive—unless he would’ve pressed his luck and forced us to attack. Then a lot more people on both sides would’ve died,” Lane said. “Sun could’ve stopped Ji and Feng before they set out to sea. If anybody else is to blame for this, it’s him, not us, and he knows it. That’s why he won’t make too big of a stink about all of this, no matter his personal suspicions. Otherwise, he hands his political enemies the club they need to beat him to death with.”
Myers sighed, still on the fence. She wasn’t certain she would’ve made the same call Lane did had she been in his shoes. But then again, she’d never been in combat. Men like Lane and Pearce survived by making life-and-death decisions in the blink of an eye. Even if she couldn’t fully understand his decision, she knew he made it because he thought it was in the best interests of his country and the uniformed men and women who served it. Lane would always put his country before his own political career or even his reputation. That’s why she had backed him in his bid for the presidency to begin with. It was a tough call in a split second and he made it for the right reasons. In the end, that was good enough for her.
“What’s the purpose of the state visit, if I may ask?” Myers said.
“In exchange for deep cuts in his military spending, we’re prepared to make new security arrangements in the region. Joint naval cooperation to keep the sea-lanes open, that sort of thing. Of course, pushing through Sun’s anticorruption reforms is even more important. China’s long-term viability as a stable growing democracy is in our vital strategic interest.”
“What about Mao Island?”
“Ito says they can keep it, so long as all revenues from the drilling operations are evenly divided. He’ll be joining us in Beijing, too. We have a few surprises.” Lane leaned forward. “It would be great if the two of you could join us. None of this would’ve been possible without both of you.”
Myers glanced at Pearce. He seemed lost somewhere. Maybe a memory. Or a regret.
“Yes, of course,” Myers said. “Whatever you need.”
“Troy, how about you? I’d like you to see the fruits of your labor. We’re going to make history.”
Pearce set his empty coffee cup down. “I have some business to take care of first, and I’m not sure how long it will take. But if it’s at all possible, I’ll be there.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Lane asked.
Pearce shook his head. “I’ve got it under control, but thanks.”
“Again, congratulations to you both on a job well done. Your country owes you a debt it can’t repay.”
“Duty doesn’t incur any debts, Mr. President. We’re glad we could be of service,” Myers said.
Pearce nodded, but his mind was already on the next task at hand, sharpening an old knife deep inside of him, a ruthless blade with an endless, ragged edge.
SEVENTY-ONE
NARITA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
TOKYO, JAPAN
20 MAY 2017
The hearse from the funeral home pulled away as the shipping container containing Yamada’s remains was being carefully lifted into the cargo hold of the Pearce Systems jet.
Pearce’s grim face set the flight crew on edge. Myers, too. He’d been sullen since the president’s video conference at the embassy, no doubt distracted by the reality of his friend’s death and the need to transport the body back home. She was surprised when he asked her to join him at the airport. More so when he asked her to come with him to Hawaii for the interment.
“Of course.”
President Lane would no doubt want to brief them further before the trip to Beijing, but there was still plenty of time for that. Time for her friend Troy to process everything that had transpired in the last few days. For all of his tough talk about killing the enemy—and God alone knew how many of America’s enemies Pearce had sent to hell over the years—she also knew he valued life and that killing, no matter how righteous, took its psychic toll. She couldn’t fix that, but she could stand by his side and walk with him through it, no matter how long or how dark the valley set before him. He’d always been there for her. She would always be there for him.
SEVENTY-TWO
PRIME MINISTER ITO’S PRIVATE OFFICE
THE KANTEI
TOKYO, JAPAN
20 MAY 2017
Ito’s aide opened the door and Tanaka marched in, his stern face frozen in resentment. Ito tapped on a keyboard.
“You summoned me?”
“Yes,” Ito said, without looking up. “Please sit.”
Tanaka sat down stiffly in the chair in front of Ito’s desk, folded his arms across his chest. His clothes reeked of heavy tobacco.
Ito finally finished his e-mail and logged off. He leaned back in his executive chair, relaxed but pensive, his fingers laced. He let the silence fill the room, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.
“We nearly found ourselves trapped in a war between China and the United States. If it had not been averted, we might well have been annihilated by nuclear strikes from either China or North Korea, or both.”
“As I’ve said all along, we need nuclear
weapons.”
“And as I’ve said all along, I disagree. At least, until now.”
Tanaka raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’ve come around to your way of thinking. We need a nuclear deterrent as much as any other country. Maybe more than any other country. And I’m making arrangements for that to happen.”
Tanaka bolted upright in his chair, a smile plastered across his face. “Hai!”
Ito allowed himself a small grin. “I thought you would be pleased. I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
Tanaka frowned. “But the Americans will never agree to this.”
“They already have. With conditions.”
Now Tanaka was really confused. “Why would the Americans suddenly agree to our having nuclear weapons?”
“President Lane and his team are reimagining American national security policy. Like us, he was both surprised and alarmed at how quickly the Mao Island affair spun out of control. He confided in me that several people in his government argued against going to war to honor their treaty obligations to us. Fortunately, President Lane is a man of honor. But he’s also a wise man and is determined to do what’s best for his country in the future. He understands that America will always have to come to our defense if we can’t defend ourselves, including nuclear defense. He said he never wants to be put in a position again where America’s nuclear shield forces him to trade Los Angeles for Shanghai to save Osaka. By giving us nuclear weapons, we can defend ourselves and free up the Americans from an unnecessary obligation.”
“They will give us nuclear weapons?”
Ito nodded. “Yes. We both agreed that we must have them in our possession immediately and then make the announcement to the world. Unlike the West, which refuses to strike preemptively against nuclear proliferators like North Korea and Iran, our enemies would not hesitate to strike us a death blow if we announced we were just beginning to develop a nuclear arsenal.”
Tanaka nodded. “Agreed.” He thought further. “The Chinese will be livid. This will only worsen our relations with them.”
“Perhaps not. President Sun is as eager as President Lane to rethink his security posture in the region. The PLA has become far too strong and too dangerous to his government. Thanks to the Mao Island fiasco, he now has the power to rein them in and start slashing military spending. But his security concerns are valid. In some ways, our vulnerability to North Korea’s nuclear arsenal puts China at some risk, since North Korea is seen as China’s proxy, which is only partly true. If we are allowed to have a nuclear arsenal, North Korea becomes an American and Japanese problem, no longer just a Chinese one.”
“The Chinese people won’t stand for it.”
“The Chinese government has engaged in anti-Japanese propaganda for decades to bolster their own legitimacy. President Sun will not only end that policy, he is also prepared to enter into a new and mutually beneficial relationship with us. He and President Lane believe that these new reforms and the resulting prosperity will better legitimize his regime.”
Tanaka fell back in his chair, thinking. “It’s hard to believe that so much has transpired in just two days.”
“Yes, isn’t it?”
Tanaka bolted back up, pointing his finger at Ito. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
Ito watched the wheels spinning in Tanaka’s fevered eyes.
“This whole affair with the Wu-14 and the Liaoning. The Americans are the ones who sank the carrier, and you knew all about it!”
“Not exactly.” Ito wondered how much he should tell his old friend. Decided it didn’t really matter at this point. “President Lane, President Myers, and Troy Pearce put together a plan to steal the Wu-14 technology a few months ago, and they needed my help. President Myers was the one who actually stole it. The idea was to acquire the Wu-14 software and confirm its operability and then reverse-engineer it to discover the best countermeasures. Once those were found, the Americans would inform the Chinese that the Wu-14 was worthless, and thus force the PLAN back into a defensive posture. But Ji and Feng had other ideas.”
“So when the Chinese launched the missile, the Americans took control of it?”
“Yes. And President Lane decided on his own to take out the Liaoning. If he would’ve asked me, I would’ve said no, but in hindsight it was a brilliant move.”
Tanaka nodded. “Yes, it was. We should be as bold.”
“How so?”
“Once we acquire the nuclear missiles, we should inform the Chinese that the Americans are the ones who sank their carrier. We can still force them into a war against each other.”
Ito sighed, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Tanaka asked. “You said yourself the Americans will do what’s best for them. So should we.”
“Yes, I agree. We should.”
“Then you do agree with my plan.”
“I don’t, but I do agree we must do what is best for our country. We disagree on what’s best for Japan.”
Tanaka frowned. “What do you think is best?”
“I agree with President Lane that Japan needs nuclear weapons immediately, but as I said before, there are conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“First, that we announce a unilateral nonaggression pact with China and any other nation that wants us to sign it. We will pledge never to use nuclear weapons in a first-strike capacity.”
“I don’t completely agree with that policy, but I understand it. If that’s what it takes to acquire nuclear weapons, we should agree to it. What are the other conditions?”
“Only one, really. Neither the United States nor China want to start World War Three. They believe there are certain elements in our government that want the two of them to go to war against each other. And they won’t allow us to have nuclear weapons unless they’re sure that those elements are silenced.”
Tanaka stiffened. “I’ll never speak again about the American strike on the Liaoning.”
“You have people throughout the government and the JSDF who share your extremist views.”
“I can keep them quiet.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“You have my word, Ito-san.”
“I want their names.”
“No.”
“I wonder which you love more? Your conspiracy or your country?”
Tanaka darkened, torn. Finally, he said, “I’ll send you the list as soon as I get back to my office.”
“No need, because we already have the names. The Naicho and the NSA have been running a joint intelligence operation tracking you and your co-conspirators for months now. I was briefed just this morning on your role in the death of the American scientist Yamada, as well as your other crimes. I should have you arrested.”
Tanaka laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Ito leaned back in his chair, planting his shoes on his desk. “No, I wouldn’t. Your arrest would severely cripple the legitimate cause we’ve both been fighting for all these years. And yet, you remain a serious problem for the Americans and the Chinese, and a grave threat to our nation and our people.”
“A threat? That’s ridiculous.”
“I must provide a guarantee to the Americans and Chinese that you will remain silent on all these matters even as I clean house and root out the ultranationalists who threaten all of us.”
“I’ll retire. You’ll never hear from me again.”
“That’s not good enough for them, I’m afraid.” Ito stood up. “Nor for me.”
“What do you propose?”
Ito crossed around his desk and laid a hand on Tanaka’s firm shoulder. “There is an honorable solution, old friend.”
Tanaka’s eyes hardened, fixing on a distant unseen place. “I understand.”
Ito smiled faintly. “I knew you would.”
“I’ll make all of the necessary arrangements. It will take a few days.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
Tanaka shook his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’ve been preparing for this moment all my life.”
SEVENTY-THREE
MANINIHOLO BAY
KAUAI, HAWAII
21 MAY 2017
The sun knelt beneath the far horizon, bathing the blue ocean in its sweet last orange light. Myers felt the warm waters brush past her knees and the gentle breeze in her hair was heavy with tuberose.
Pearce lit the candle inside the rice-paper bag covered in prayers for Kenji Yamada, written in kanji by the local Shinto priest. Troy even wrote one himself in English.
He set the float carrying the paper lantern down on the water, and the tide began pulling it away toward the bay beyond the cove. Within moments, the flickering lantern raft was beating its way toward the last rays of the setting sun.
“Two years ago, Kenji took me to the Lantern Floating Hawaii ceremony in Oahu,” Pearce said. “It was Memorial Day.”
Myers was startled to hear his voice. Pearce hadn’t said a word since Kenji’s interment next to his parents in the small Japanese graveyard up the road a few hours earlier. Besides the priest, they were the only two in attendance. She knew he’d been to a lot of funerals in his time. He was no stranger to death or to the loss of close friends. Neither was she. But even she was particularly moved by the lonely finality of the small, sad service today. It only added to Pearce’s dark mood that began when he loaded Kenji’s casket into the plane in Japan.
“That ceremony meant a lot to me at the time. Wrote a lot of names down on that lantern that night. Kenji floated one for his parents, too.”
The beach was deserted. She watched Kenji’s flickering light trudge bravely on toward the far horizon. Something in her stirred. The vastness of the ocean, the inevitable night. Even the rhythm of the tide as it whispered on the sand called to her. “It’s all so lovely and forlorn. I feel as if I’m watching a good friend leaving on a journey who knows he’s never coming back.”