The man was strong, very strong. The former Seal had been well-trained in armed and unarmed combat and, in spite of the years, was still in excellent shape, which told him that this man was also highly trained and probably at least fifteen years younger. The next thing Jim saw was a boot flying past his face. Then the shooter’s head snapped backward, blood spurting from his broken nose. Another kick left the young man reeling in semi-consciousness as Jim ripped the pistol from his hands. Several males from the crowd had surrounded the shooter, kicking him in the head and chest.
As the beating continued, Jim raced to Holly who was now cradled in her mother’s arms, blood streaming down the side of her head.
“Oh my God,” he said, as he fell to his knees beside his daughter. Sally was still yelling for a doctor as the first sounds of sirens were heard in the distance. Two armed security guards from the museum had appeared, guns drawn, and were talking into their radios as Ray ran out of the museum carrying a first aid kit. Medics pushed through crowd but had paused next to the shooter when captain Davis grabbed the arms of one and propelled him toward his granddaughter. The other medic knelt by the young boy who was clearly beyond help.
“Can you hear me, baby?” said Ray, kneeling beside his wife, holding a gauze pad against the side of her head. There was no response. Some in the crowd had fled when shots rang out, but others milled about wringing their hands, faces streaked with grief.
The medic kneeling beside Holly saw that the gauze pad had temporarily staunched the bleeding. The other medic arrived next to him and together they prepped her for transport. All they would say was that she was still alive. She was soon in an ambulance and on the way to a Paris hospital.
The crowd had been so incensed by the attack on the young woman that they continued to launch vicious kicks at the shooter’s unconscious body until police pulled them away, by which time he was a bloody pulp. He would later be pronounced dead at the hospital and with no identification on his person, authorities could only hope that his finger prints or the gun would yield something. All that was certain was that he would not be talking to anyone.
When the first news reports reached the United States, most Americans were appalled. Even the normally venomous left was, at least for now, silent and not gloating over the tragedy. Those who truly understood the peril of the economy wondered if their last hope had been silenced.
Once Holly had been stabilized in the emergency room, the trauma surgeon carefully removed the blood-soaked gauze pad. The wound, while bloody, showed no indication that the skull had been penetrated. The bullet had struck a glancing blow, enough to knock Holly out but not enough induce swelling of the brain or other serious trauma. As her worried family stood at the foot of her bed, the spunky young lady opened her eyes for the first time. Her puzzled gaze quickly gave way to a weak smile as she saw her family gathered around her.
“Guess they didn’t like my speech, huh?” she said in a soft voice. With those words, the fear and tension that marked their faces melted into smiles streaked with tears. Holly would spend the next two days at the hospital, the doctors needing to be cautious in case some unseen trauma had gone undetected. But when she was finally released, a white bandage on the side of her head was the only visible evidence of what had happened.
The family was ready to leave for home as soon as they could find a flight, feeling rightly that nearly losing Holly twice was twice too many. It was time for someone else to pick up the torch. As they sat at the phone back at the hotel, asking the owners of the Gulfstream to take them home, Holly made a sudden announcement.
“I’m not going,” she said. Her mother’s face was a mask of incredulity as she turned to face her daughter.
“You’re what?” she said.
“I’m not going,” Holly repeated, enunciating each word.
No sound escaped the lips of anyone in the room for more than a minute. The next words came from her grandfather, the soft lines of his face expressing a calm understanding of the inevitable.
“She means she’s got some unfinished business to tend to,” he said simply.
Jim and Sally badly wanted to drag their daughter out of the room and into a taxi for the airport, but they had been down that path before. Once Holly’s mind was made up, neither handcuffs nor straight jacket could restrain her.
“I nearly died . . . twice. It’s got to be for a reason and not wasted,” Holly said softly, “When I was unconscious, I could see my words as if they were objects. As I spoke to those people, the words fell upon them like a gentle rain, the drops not running down their faces onto the ground, but soaking in. I can’t describe the feeling but somehow I knew they understood. I need to make others understand. There’s no one else. It has to be me.”
Rome was next.
6 0
Molly grabbed Virgil’s arm so tightly that his head snapped around. They were walking through an electronics store when every television erupted simultaneously with an image that froze them in place. A loud crack sounded near an unseen cameraman and the subject in his viewfinder crumpled. It was unmistakable. It was Holly. They stood unspeaking as dozens of screens continued to mimic each other’s horror. Finding a remote, they moved in front of the largest screen to listen for what they hoped not to hear. Nothing was known that wasn’t already visible.
Knowing that Ping might have the television on, they headed for the parking lot. The car radio had only what they had already seen; the information they dreaded but desperately needed was not yet available. They resolved that if the TV wasn’t already on at home, they would keep it off for the time being. Ping must be protected.
When they opened the front door, the only sound was a faint humming coming from her room upstairs. Ping loved to knit and would accompany her knitting with the sing-song melodies of her youth.
“We’re home,” they announced loudly enough to be heard upstairs.
“Tahnk you,” came the accented reply. Ping’s English was gradually improving, but she had managed to tangle up certain phrases that actually seemed to make more sense her way. For example, instead of ‘mow the lawn,’ she would say ‘lower the mawn.’ It was really very cute and only endeared her to them more.
Virgil went into his study and turned on the computer. Molly stood behind him hoping they would not find what they dreaded. Finally they came across a BBC report. It said what they already knew, that Holly had been shot, but it did not say that she had died. It was scant but uncertain relief. Virgil called his office to see if any of his aides were still there. Predictably, his indefatigable chief of staff was still working. Virgil asked him to try to get in touch with someone in Paris who knew what had happened and get back with him. Then he called his contact at the company that provided the Gulfstream to see if they had any info. It was simply too soon.
Molly and Virgil tried to read for awhile, but it was futile. Finally about 10:00 pm, his aide called to tell them that Holly was expected to live. There was still no information as to the identity of the shooter or the reason. That Holly was alive was all they needed. The morning news programs would have more. They tiptoed past Ping’s room, hoping she was still awake, but a buzzing rather that a humming told them she was not.
******
With the first smell of morning coffee from the kitchen, they turned on the bedroom TV. There were still few details other than the only one that mattered: Holly had been wounded and would be out of the Paris hospital in a couple of days. Virgil wrapped a robe around himself and went down to see if Ping was up yet. He found her standing in front of the television in the kitchen, tears streaming down her cheeks. The gentle touch on her shoulder reminded her that she had someone who cared. She turned and let him wrap his arms around her.
“She’s all right, Ping, she’s all right. They hurt her but not badly; she’s going to live.”
Like sorrow cleansed by a miracle, the shadow of grief passed from Ping’s face as she looked up into his eyes.
“My baby OK?” she said.
“Yes, Ping, she’ll be fine.”
Another pair of arms gently wrapped themselves around Ping and Virgil.
******
The aide who never slept was already in the office when Virgil arrived. He had just spoken with Holly’s parents. Incredibly, Holly intended to soldier on.
“I’d give her the Medal of Honor if it were in my power to do so,” said the senator, “she has to be the bravest young lady I have ever known.”
What had been captured by an unseen cameraman played over and over on morning news shows across the country and in Europe. Within days, that grim footage was replaced with the image of Holly’s bandaged head as she stood before ever growing crowds, speaking in a voice that had found its way into the hearts of people on every continent. Like a modern Joan of Arc, the spunky little lady was conquering Europe.
In what seemed impossible, people in stores were turning items upside down, pulling labels out of clothing and refusing to buy: Made in China. Even cheapskates who would drive a mile to save a buck were passing on the lowest prices. While there were adverse and unfortunate consequences for those in the ancillary businesses connected to the China trade, the boycott overall was proving more effective than anyone had ever dreamed.
Unfortunately for the president, he continued to focus on all things negative. The man seemed incapable of admitting that he was ever wrong. It was always someone or something else. Had he adapted to the reality of what was happening, he might have been able to resurrect his popularity, but his inflexible ideology was his undoing. Increasingly, those in the media who had carried his water saw their own survival on the line and began to moderate their positions. Even his allies in the Congress were starting to drift. Perhaps his biggest problem was that there simply was no defense for having attempted to aid in a cover up of the undeniably despicable events surrounding Holly and her husband. His position was utterly indefensible.
China’s obstinacy and hubris continued unabated at first. They were well aware that with many products in America’s stores, buying ‘Made in USA’ was simply not possible; there weren’t any. But they failed to realize how quickly countries like Viet Nam, India, South Korea and others would rush to fill the gap with low priced goods of their own. Shipments of everything from kitchen utensils to electronics were being loaded into containers bound for America. Even in the United States smaller companies began to produce what was needed. Their prices were not as low as the Chinese goods they replaced, but jobs meant paychecks and Americans increasingly were earmarking part of their paychecks for ‘Made in USA’ products. In what was perhaps the most powerful result of the boycott, people were feeling good about it; they were pulling together and they were beating up the bully for a change.
Then China miscalculated badly. Believing their own fiction regarding the South China Sea, they decided that their “indisputable sovereignty” over the area permitted them to ‘monitor’ shipping.’ It was an obvious ploy to counter the boycott, but China was not averse to being obvious when they wanted to send a message. Using the pathetically thin pretext of interdicting contraband, they began stopping and inspecting ships bearing goods bound for the United States. Since vessels leaving Vietnam were closest at hand, they started there, boarding two container ships and several smaller freighters. The following day, Vietnam adopted a WWII tactic, setting up convoys and escorting each with a warship. The powder keg was now perilously close to the fire.
Vietnam was neither new to having a navy nor to using it to battle China on the high seas, their first victory over Chinese Southern Han forces having been in the year 938. In 1288 an attack on the Yuan (Mongol) Dynasty killed over 80,000 Yuan sailors and destroyed more than 400 of their ships. In a modern clash over the Spratly Islands in 1988, Vietnam did not fare so well, with over seventy Vietnamese sailors killed. Intermittent clashes had continued since then. But unlike China, who had numerous routes to the open sea, Vietnam’s coast lay along the very area which China now claimed, meaning Vietnam’s economic survival was at stake. She could not back down.
The first Vietnamese convoy was escorted by the Dinh Tien Hoang, a brand new ‘stealth’ frigate of Russian design. While its 76.2 mm main gun was smaller than the 100 mm gun some Chinese warships carried, its complement of Kh-35E anti-ship missiles, 533 mm torpedoes, Osa-M air defense missile system, as well as anti-submarine and point defense systems, made it a very capable platform. It was China’s move.
A Chinese frigate shadowed the convoy. Sailors aboard both warships were at battle stations. Continuing east past the disputed Paracel islands toward the northernmost tip of the Philippines, the convoy passed the point at which Vietnamese land-based anti-ship missiles could no longer reach. Now out from under that protective umbrella, the convoy was at its most vulnerable point.
Suddenly radar aboard the Dinh Tien Hoang painted a flight of four Chinese J-10 fighters taking off from Hainan Island. The J-10’s, first introduced in 2005 carried short and medium range air-to-air missiles as well as YJ-9K anti-ship missiles. It was a modern, capable fighter that some believed equivalent to the American FA-18 Hornet. As they closed on the Vietnamese frigate, its air-defense radar officer programmed the system to lock on to the fighters at a distance his captain had ordered. At the same time a message was sent to his base alerting them of the presence of the Chinese fighters.
The Chinese fighters could see that they were being ‘painted’ by the frigate’s air defense radar. A lock on would be the immediate prelude to engagement. The pilots did not know at what point the Vietnamese would loose their missiles, or indeed if they would even open fire. Likewise, the captain of the Dinh Tien Hoang had no way of knowing if the Chinese fighters had orders to attack or not. It was at this point that the Chinese frigate broadcast a message ordering the cargo ships to heave to for boarding and inspection. The captains of those ships had strict orders to ignore any such demand and they steamed onward without slowing.
In both Oriental cultures, ‘saving face’ is paramount. The warriors on both sides had devoted their lives to a code of conduct that would never allow them to disgrace either themselves or their governments. That young, possibly hot-headed fighter pilots were now involved made it an even more volatile mix; a single hostile act could start a war that was in no one’s interest.
Aboard the Dinh Tien Hoang, the captain was advised that a contact had been picked up off the port bow, likely a Chinese Song-class submarine, itself a formidable adversary. At the same time his radar picked up a flight of four SU-27 Vietnamese fighters responding to the presence of the Chinese J-10’s. The Vietnamese captain knew that his ship had the best technology and warfare systems that Russia had to offer. With four top line SU-27’s on the way, the fight, if it were to occur, would be relatively evenly matched with training and skill being the likely deciders.
If it came to a battle, the Vietnamese captain had no intention of backing down. His orders specified protecting the cargo carriers but not firing the first shot. If the Chinese frigate were to attempt to board one of the cargo ships, he was to place his warship in between them. But if a Chinese ship or aircraft were to lock on to his ship, he was free to defend himself.
When the Vietnamese SU-27 fighters were within 75 kilometers, they were picked up by the Chinese J-10 fighters’ radar. Their pilots now realized that the Vietnamese had a strong hand and if they played it, some of the Chinese pilots would be unlikely to return to base. In the back of their minds, they were wondering if at this moment more Chinese fighters were being sent to back them up. While that might be comforting, the escalation could prove fatal to all.
In a small clearing in the northernmost jungles of the Philippines, a compact CIA elint (electronic intelligence gathering) unit was ‘watching’ the most tense encounter since the sinking of the Philippine warship. However, this time the danger was far greater since both combatants were far more well-armed and had a long history of belligerence. In what took less than a second, a burst of encrypted data was fire
d from a transmitter cleverly concealed in a rickety pier along the shore to an American military communications satellite overhead, the first step on its journey to the Pentagon and ultimately the White House.
Chinese sensors picked up the energy burst but calculated its transmission point as just off shore rather than along it. Due to this slight miscalculation and their inability to decipher the encryption, they believed that an American submarine had allowed its antenna to rise to the surface to communicate with the 7th Fleet, still in Japanese waters.
The potential involvement of a United States carrier battle group was not new. China had been, in its eyes, shamed by two United States carrier battle groups sailing through the Straits of Taiwan before and ever since had been developing a series of weapons to defeat that threat, including an alleged 6,000 mph carrier-killer missile and an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) weapon. While it was not believed that either of those systems were online, China has a huge arsenal of land-based missiles along its coast as well as hundreds of warplanes. The most dangerous aspect of all these events was the dramatic elevation of the possibility that a critical error by either party could start a war.
As the CIA’s electronic message quickly made its way up the military chain of command, one of the many civilian satellites, some of which had been paying particular attention to the area since things started heating up, noticed the unusual proximity and activities of Chinese and Vietnamese naval assets as well the cargo ships. It was obvious that not only was something afoot, but that when warships of nations which had clashed in the past come together, the outcome could be unpredictable.
******
While the signal emanating from the CIA base reached its destination more quickly, the civilian satellite’s transmission soon found its way to the media. This followed the previous day’s report of China stopping Vietnamese container and cargo ships on the high seas. Questions were directed to the White House and Pentagon and with no answers forthcoming, the media turned to its audience. China’s cavalier and threatening actions, even more off the charts than usual, were generating no small amount of concern around the globe. The uncertainty had driven the price of oil to new highs which jeopardized an already weakened global economy, but rather than dampen enthusiasm for the boycott, it only strengthened it. Not since WWII did America have an enemy that was so universally detested. In the United States, as well as abroad, people were becoming more intransigent. China’s actions surrounding events in Tianjin had felt like a personal insult to many, and once again their extraordinary hubris was inflaming passions like nothing since Pearl Harbor.
Two Peasants and a President Page 28