by Dale Brown
on this planet. Nearly a billion customers, many of whom are
still living in tum-of-the-century conditions. Think of the in-
vestment needed to bring those people up to Western living
standards."
"So you're concerned about the money aspect of a conflict
with China," the President said.
"Of course I'm concerned about the financial aspect, and
so are you," Finegold said, stepping a bit closer to Martindale
as she spoke, letting the language of her body speak to the
most powerful man on planet Earth as much as her words.
"We're concerned with whatever it takes to make America
grow and prosper, and one of the largest untapped resources
in the world that we need to exploit is China, especially a
strong, capitalist-leaning China united with Hong Kong, Ma-
cau, and Taiwan.
"Mr. President, you know, and I know, that China will be-
come the next United States of America in terms of its eco-
nomic and industrial strength," Finegold went on. "China is
where America was three generations ago-mostly agrarian
but becoming more urban, isolationalist, suspicious of all for-
eigners, but expanding rapidly and embracing change, as in-
novation and new ideas sweep across the frontier. China will
not be ruled by warlords forever. We must stake our position
to steer China in a direction that's right for them and right for
America. You want to be instrumental in shaping China to meet
America's needs. We cannot allow China to become isolated."
"Barbara, I agree with your sentiment. . ." the President
began.
"Then stop this saber-rattling," Finegold said, her bright
eyes locking tightly onto his. "Be the peacemaker, be the vi-
sionary. Let us join forces, Kevin. You and me. We can take
control of this situation together." She knew she had far over-
stepped her bounds by calling the President by his first name,
but her powers of personal seduction were one of her formi-
dable strengths, and she was determined to use them-even
here, in the Oval Office, with her adversary surrounded by his
generals and chiefs, a place where she had almost no leverage
at all.
"First, keep the carriers and the fighters away from China,"
Finegold went on. "Their very presence is destabilizing and a
direct threat to China. Besides, we've proven that we can't
FATAL TERRAIN 409
keep our carriers safe from saboteurs. If the carriers aren't
within striking distance, China won't feel as if they need to
use nuclear weapons to counterbalance the threat."
"I've already ordered that the George Washington and the
Carl Vinson stay in the Pacific for the time being," the Pres-
ident said. "Our fighters based in South Korea, Japan, and
Alaska are committed to the defense of South Korea right now.
They're not a threat to China."
"Very good," Finegold said. "Second, keep the long-range
bombers out of the fight. Admiral Balboa has explained to me
that the bombers are all on nuclear ground alert. I don't agree
with the decision to put nuclear weapons on them, but keeping
them on the ground in the United States is the best option."
The President merely nodded, casting an irritated glance at
Balboa. So he had continued to talk with Finegold, he thought.
"Thirdly, agree to make a statement saying that we support
eventual reunification. You don't have to mention or reverse
your statement supporting Chinese Taipei's independence-
the press reports say that Lee Teng-hui's government won't
survive for long anyway, that they've all fled the country. If
the Nationalists can't survive, how can you be expected to
support them?"
"The facts don't agree with your sentiment, Senator," the
President said firmly. "First of all, we have no independent
confirmation that President Lee has fled the country and his
government has collapsed, and I am not going to abandon him
at his greatest hour of need." Finegold heard how Martindale
said the word "Senator" instead of "Barbara," and she could
feel their intimate connection breaking down-she realized
that the President was made of sterner stuff than she had ever
given him credit for. He stepped back from her, reincluding
the others in their conversation as he went on: "Second, it's
obvious that China is not willing to peaceably wait a hundred
years for Taiwan to join them-they are not willing to wait a
hundred days, or even a hundred hours. Their uninhibited use
of nuclear weapons proves that."
"China pledges to cease all military attacks and withdraw
its troops from disputed territory.-
"That's not what Foreign Minister Qian said, Senator,"
Secretary of State Hartman said. "China promised to stop all
nuclear attacks and withdraw troops as soon as it is safe to do
so. That's not the same as a military withdrawal."
410 DALE BROWN
"You're mincing words, Mr. Secretary," Finegold said. She
watched the President relax, allowing his advisor's words to
surround him like a stone wall. The spell was now broken,
Finegold realized-they were back to being adversaries again.
So be it. "What it means to me is that we'll stop the nuclear
threat, and that's what's important here." She turned to the
President again. She had tried to use reason and logic, tried to
use a little vainglory, and tried a little sweetness-and failed.
Now she had to try the direct approach, in none-too-subtle
earnest: "It is very important that you carefully consider this
rtunity to make peace with the Chinese, Mr. President."
oppo
The President turned toward Finegold, both curled locks of
silver hair suddenly, angrily visible now on his forehead. Jer-
rod Hale uncrossed his arms, his body stiff with anticipation;
at that same instant, Philip Freeman shut off and checked his
pen-size pager in his jacket pocket, cleared his throat, and
stood to use the phone on the President's desk. Both men's
actions did nothing to relieve the thick tension that had just
invaded the Oval Office. "Excuse me, Senator, but that
sounded like a threat to me," he said.
"It's not a threat, Mr. President," Barbara Finegold said.
"But there have been ... rumblings, from certain important
government quarters, that cast some doubt on your legal and
ethical motivations in this crisis, beginning with the Persian
Gulf conflict-"
"No doubt bolstered by your Senate hearings and your
statements in the press," Nicholas Gant interjected.
"We are not going to tolerate intimidation or political black-
mail, Senator," Vice President Whiting said angrily. "Your
attacks on the President are nothing more than partisan politics,
taking advantage of the crisis in- Asia to further your own
political agenda. The American people don't buy it."
"My political agenda is not the topic of discussion, Mrs.
Whiting-it's the President's I'm worried about," Finegold
said bitterly. "I'm worried that the Pre
sident will sacrifice the
lives of more brave soldiers and sailors just to try to show
who's the cock of the roost!"
"That is enough, Senator!" Jerrod Hale exploded. "You
are way out of line!"
"Hold on, Jerrod, hold on," the President said after listen-
ing to the message Philip Freeman had just whispered in his
ear. "I've just been informed that an attack is under way
FATAL T ER RAI N 411
against mainland China. An air raid has severely crippled the
Chinese armies that were poised to invade Quemoy Island."
"An attack? Air raids?" Finegold sputtered. "Excuse me,
Mr. President, but we've been sitting here listening to you
explain how you've got things under control, that you're not
trying to stir up a military free-for-all in three different regions
of the world, that the capture of our sub by Iran was nothing
more than a cat-and-mouse game gone awry-and now you
tell us that you've staged a sneak attack on the Chinese
army?"
"You don't understand, Senator-this attack doesn't in-
volve any American military forces," the President said. "I
haven't authorized any air attacks against China."
"But whoever's done it really did a good job," Freeman
added. "Initial estimates say that up to one-tenth of the Chi-
nese invasion force that had amassed in southern Fujian prov-
ince near Xiamen was destroyed or crippled-that could be as
much as fifteen, twenty thousand troops and thousands of ve-
hicles. Components of four infantry divisions have been badly
hit."
"Four divisions?" Secretary of Defense Chastain remarked.
"It must've taken three or four heavy bomb wings to do that
kind of damage."
"You're joking, right?" Senator Barbara Finegold asked,
searching the President's and each of his advisors' faces care-
fully for any signs of playacting. "You're telling me that
someone-you don't know who-has just killed as many as
twenty thousand men, and you don't know who it was?"
"That's right, Senator," the President replied with a sly
smile. "But whoever it is, they probably deserve a medal ...
unless they plunge us into global thermonuclear war in the
next few minutes."
"Jesus Christ. . ." Joseph Crane gasped. "You seem pretty
damn casual about this, Mr. Martindale!"
"There's not a damn thing I can do about what's happening
out there, Mr. Crane," the President said, with his sly grin
again. The only sign of concern on his face were the two silver
locks of hair curling down over his forehead, but both Crane
and Finegold were too stunned to notice. "If you'll excuse us,
we're going to start monitoring this situation." The President
and his advisors did not wait until the members of Congress
412 DALE BROWN
recovered from their surprise before he stepped quickly out of
the Oval Office to his private study.
OVER SOUTH-CENTRAL CHINA
THAT SAME TIME
David Luger counted no fewer than twenty Chinese fighters
buzzing in their area-it was a miracle the EB-52 Megafortress
did not collide with them.
Luger and the crew of the Megafortress were skimming less
than 200 feet above the southwest side of the high, steep
Tienmu Mountains. The area was dotted with dozens of small
mining towns, and it took a lot of course changes to stay away
from them as they headed northbound. McLanahan and Elliott
would have liked their overall cruising altitude to be much
lower-some of the Chinese fighter patrols were going down
as low as 10,000 feet to look for the Megafortress-but that
was impossible in this area. The valley floors were 500 to
1,000 feet above sea level, but would rise to 5,000, 6,000, even
7,000 feet in less than ten miles. The EB-52 was operating at
peak efficiency, but even lightly loaded it could not climb
more than 3,000 feet per minute without ballooning over a
ridge.
Finally, even after all their aggressive maneuvering, there
was no place for them to hide. Northeast of the city of Jing-
dezhen were ten small- to medium-size mining towns-, to the
west was the Poyang Lake floodplain, along with a Chinese
fighter base at Anqing, just fifty miles to the northwest.
"Crew, I'm going to take us between two of those mining
towns to the north," Patrick McLanahan said. "We can't go
any farther west. High terrain is east and northeast; min safe
altitude is five thousand feet on this leg, then six thousand one
hundred on the next leg. We're five minutes to the release
point. I'm setting five-hundred-foot clearance plane for this leg
so we don't balloon over these upcoming ridges."
It was a good plan of action, but the odds were turning
against them.
As soon as the Megafortress climbed to establish the new
clearance plane settings, a large S symbol appeared on Luger's
threat display, which immediately went from blue to yellow
FATAL TERRAIN 413
and then briefly to red. Luger activated the Megafortress's
trackbreakers, designed to "walk" a target-tracking or height-
finder radar away from a solid lock with the bomber, but not
before the radar got a good two- or three-second track on the
bomber. "Search radar, eleven o'clock, momentary height-
finder lock-on-ah, shit, that's why, they got a repeater radar
off at one o'clock, up on a mountain peak," Luger shouted.
"I think they got us. Trackbreakers are active. They'll keep
the height-finder shut down, but we can expect company."
"Looks like we might have to attack a target of opportunity
here," McLanahan said. He quickly expanded his God's-eye
picture on his supercockpit display, then touched the icon for
the Anqing fighter base. Anqing North was a small but active
airfield that sat almost directly on a marshy tributary of the
Chang Jiang River and right at the base of a 2,500-foot peak.
The base had two medium-length runways, forming a T, and
was laid out in typical fashion: the main base was located on
the west, the housing area to the south, and the flight opera-
tions area to the northeast. McLanahan zoomed into the flight
operations' area of the base, which automatically called up re-
cent NIRTSat photoradar satellite reconnaissance data from the
EB-52's downloaded satellite data memory banks.
Although the raw reconnaissance images did not identify
each particular building, Patrick McLanahan knew enough
about the layout of a military air base to identify what he
needed to know: the mass aircraft parking area, where over
fifty J-6, J-7, and J-8 fighters were parked and fueled in prep-
aration for a mission, was concentrated in one spot, in front
of a very large building in the north-central portion of the flight
operations sector of the base; and the big building housed the
fighter wing headquarters, flying squadron headquarters, and
the wing command post and communication center. Mc-
Lanahan immediately programmed one Striker missile for the
tenter of the mass parking ramp, and one missile for the center
of the headquarters building.
"Stand by for pylon Striker launch, crew," he called out.
He hit the voice-command switch: "Launch one pylon Striker
missile on new target zulu."
WARNING, STRIKER LAUNCH COMMIT ORDER.
"Commit Striker launch," McLanahan repeated.
WARNING, STRIKER MISSILE LAUNCH, the attack computer
responded, and the Striker missile in the left-win weapons
9
414 DALE BROWN
pod ignited its first-stage rocket motor and blasted skyward. It
unfolded its large fins seconds after launch, reaching 10,000
feet in just a few seconds. It glided efficiently for about fifteen
miles, dropping down to about 6,000 feet, before firing its
second-stage rocket motor and climbing back up to 15,000
feet, when it began its powered ballistic dive onto its target.
"Second Striker pylon missile launch coming up, crew,"
McLanahan said. "Pilot, give me a slight climb up to six thou-
sand feet so we can get a good datalink signal."
The first Striker missile's terminal guidance sensor activated
just eleven seconds prior to impact, and McLanahan switched
to low-light TV mode. It showed the lights of the city of Anq-
ing to the south and the smaller blotches of light a few miles
north. As the missile closed in, McLanahan could start to make
out the air base itself-the missile was guiding in perfectly.
He could then see sparkles of light around the base-antiair-
craft artillery fire. The missile continued its deadly plunge.
McLanahan's fingers nestled on the steering-control trackball,
but he never had to touch it-because the Striker missile
plowed directly on target, right in the middle of the parking
ramp. He could barely make out the outlines of a half-dozen
blunt-nosed jets and a fuel truck just seconds before the 2,000
pound high-explosive missile hit. McLanahan switched to the
second Striker missile just as its terminal guidance sensor ac-
tivated. Good, the second missile appeared to be going right
on target.
"Bandits, close in, nine o'clock! " Luger shouted. At the
same instant, a loud, fast-pitched deedledeedledeedle tone and