before by the president himself.
“The United States denounces the action by the People’s Republic of China in the strongest possible terms. If China wants the world’s respect, it should condemn Iran’s nuclear program, not support it. Most important, China must understand that the United States will hold it accountable if Iran deploys a nuclear weapon.”
The statement was short and to the point, as Young had recommended. “That’s all. I’m sure you have questions.” A dozen hands went up. “Jackson? My hometown favorite.”
Jackson Smith, from
An easy one, Young thought. Smith was smart but predictable. “That’s three questions, but they all have the same answer. At this time, we’re reviewing our options, both economic and diplomatic.”
“But nothing planned at this time?”
“We’re not going to be hasty, Jackson. Next.” He pointed to Lia Michaels, from NBC. They’d had a brief fling a few years back, when he was a congressional aide and she was at CNN. They were both married now and never mentioned their history, but he always made sure to call on her and she always smiled at him when he did.
“The Pentagon has announced that the United States is deploying three aircraft carriers to the South China Sea. Why? Do we plan any military action?”
Young took a moment to get the answer exactly right. He’d worked this phrasing out with the president’s chief of staff and he didn’t want to miss a word. “The announcement today is only the most recent in a series of provocative actions by the People’s Republic. China must be aware that its actions have consequences. Next?”
But Lia wasn’t finished yet. “You said the United States will hold China accountable if Iran uses a nuclear weapon. Does that threat include a nuclear strike against China?”
“It’s not a threat. And we never discuss military contingencies. Next?”
Anne Ryuchi, the new CNN correspondent, caught his eye. “There have been rumors about this agreement for a couple of weeks. Did you try to warn China off?”
“We did attempt to express our concerns. Obviously the Chinese weren’t interested in hearing them. Next.”
Dan Spiegel, from
“You mentioned a series of provocative actions. Does the United States have a theory as to why China is being so aggressive?”
“You’d better ask them.” Young enjoyed snapping Spiegel off.
“To follow up. Aside from their deal with Iran, what other actions have the Chinese taken that the United States classifies as provocative?”
“Their recent missile tests, and their saber-rattling toward Taiwan. Taiwan is a democracy and an ally of the United States.”
“But didn’t the Taiwanese start this controversy with their discussion of a possible independence vote? ”
Spiegel loved to hear his own voice. Like so many reporters, he believed mistakenly that he was as important as the people he wrote about.
“The people of Taiwan must be allowed to express their opinions without fear of Chinese reprisal,” Young said. Time to give them something new to chew on. “Also, while I can’t provide specifics, we have learned that the Chinese government has damaged a classified program critical to the national security of the United States.”
“Can you tell us more?”
“Unfortunately not.”
THE CONFERENCE WENT ON forty-five minutes more, until almost 3:00 P.M. Eastern. In Beijing, twelve hours ahead, Li Ping watched in his office, sipping tea as a colonel on his staff translated. Cao Se watched alongside him, filling a pad with notes. When the conference ended, Li flicked off the television and dismissed the colonel.
“What did you think?”
Cao flipped through his pad. “They’re very angry, General.”
Li wasn’t disturbed. “Furious words, but no action. As I expected.”
Cao clasped his hands together. He seemed uncomfortable, Li thought. “I respect you greatly, Li. You’re a great leader.”
Li found himself unexpectedly irritated. He was used to having junior officers suck up this way, but he expected more from Cao.
“General,” Li said, emphasizing the word, reminding Cao of his seniority, “don’t waste your breath flattering me. It’s very late. Now go on.”
“Sir—” Cao stopped, twisted his hands. “Fate is a strange beast. Even the most perfect plan can fail.”
Now Li understood. Cao feared the United States. “The Americans won’t fight us, Cao.” Li had studied the flash points of the Cold War — the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Berlin Blockade, the Soviet destruction of KAL 007, a Korean passenger jet that strayed over Russian territory in 1983. Each time, after threats of war, the two sides found a way to defuse the crisis. Nuclear-armed powers didn’t fight each other. China and the United States would find a way out too — but only after Li had taken power.
“But what if the Americans miscalculate?”
“There’s no reason to worry. We control the situation.” Even Cao didn’t know all the levers Li had at his disposal. He hadn’t only negotiated the agreement with Iran and given up the Drafter. He was behind the independence crisis in Taiwan as well.
Over the years, the People’s Liberation Army had built a huge network of agents in Taiwan, including one of its most senior politicians, Herbert Sen. Now, on Li’s orders, Sen had called for the island to declare its independence from China. In doing so, Sen had put the United States in a miserable position. Since 1949, when the Nationalists fled Mainland China and established their new headquarters on Taiwan, the People’s Republic had viewed Taiwan as a renegade province. In fact, the island was effectively independent from China, with its own government, currency, and military. America helped guarantee that security. In turn, Taiwan wasn’t supposed to rattle China’s cage by officially declaring its independence. A Taiwanese move to break that bargain would give China an excuse to invade — and leave the United States with two bad options. Let China attack Taiwan, its democratic ally, or go to war over a crisis that the Taiwanese themselves had started.
Of course, Li didn’t want to invade Taiwan. An attack would be worse than messy, even if the United States didn’t get involved. Taiwan was extremely well defended. But Li knew better than anyone else that the independence movement wouldn’t get far. Soon enough — on his orders — Herbert Sen would have a change of heart. In the meantime, Sen’s demand had increased the pressure on the Americans.
“Think of it this way, Cao. We’ve created a storm the Americans didn’t expect. Now they’ll try to frighten us. They’ll bring up their navy. They’ll reach too far. Then all of China will unite against them”—behind me, Li thought—“and they’ll see they have no choice but to ask for peace. When they do, we’ll give them what they want. The skies will clear. And America will have a new respect for China.”
“And with your new power, you’ll make sure that the peasants are treated fairly.”
“No more riots like the one in Guangzhou. No more stealing at the top of the Party. A new China, where everyone shares in the blessings of the economy. The people have waited too long for honest rulers.”
Li had never before spoken his plan aloud, not even when he was alone. His heart quickened. In a few weeks, the world would see him as he was, Mao’s rightful heir.
“The people will thank us, Cao,” he said. “I’m certain of it.”
THE MEETING OF THE STANDING COMMITTEE began precisely at 2:00 P.M. the next afternoon. The foreign minister discussed the world’s reaction to the deal with Iran. Aside from the United States, most countries had hardly blinked. Some had even quietly told Beijing that they supported the Chinese and Iranian efforts to counter American power.
Then Li reviewed America’s military maneuvers. As it had promised, the United States was moving three carrier battle groups toward the Chinese coast — a formidable fleet, with hundreds of jets and several dozen
