U.S.S. Seawolf

“I am honored to write the check in this instance,” said the Navy Chief of Staff, smiling.

“I am also flying in two other Russian sonar engineers in another plane from Gorky leaving tomorrow…and I hope that will be agreeable as well?”

“So long as it’s not a Boeing 747 for two people,” replied Admiral Sang, smiling-again.

“Oh, no. Most certainly not. It’s just a military aircraft of ours, based out on our far western border. It will refuel there, on the way back to us.”

“And the fee to Central Design for the technicians?”

“Er…two million American dollars.”

“Expensive people.”

“Yes, Admiral. But for this we must have the best. Can you believe our good fortune? We stand today on the brink of building underwater ships that can compete with the Americans. In my view, Seawolf has saved us twenty-five years of research, by which time we would still be behind.”

“How long, Admiral Zhang, do we need the submarine?” asked the Political Commissar, Admiral Xue Qing.

“We could make limited progress in two months. We’d need years to make a complete examination and copy.”

“And what do you propose to tell the Americans during that time?”

“Oh, that the submarine sustained very bad damage in the crash, and our wish is to repair it to the point where it can safely leave for California. We’ll tell them we have a major problem with the reactor and have no wish to release it if there is any form of danger.”

“What if the Americans say they’ll come and pick it up, and repair it with their own technicians?”

“Oh, that would not be acceptable to us. That ship has been quarantined because of suspected nuclear activity, and may not leave the jetty until it is safe. I am afraid we would never allow a foreign warship into the Pearl River Delta.”

“In fact, you just wish to fence with them until you are good and ready to release it?”

“Correct. Of course, it will hurry things along if we get some cooperation from the crew.”

“They will tell us nothing.”

“Oh, they might, with some persuasion.”

“And where will you keep the crew during all of this?”

“I have already instigated the reopening of the old jail on Xiachuan Dao, about eighty miles along the coast from Macao. It will hold, if necessary, three hundred people including staff and guards, and I’m hoping to have it functional by Sunday. There’s electricity and water on the island — originally installed by the Japanese, but still working.”

“Do you regard this as a place to hide the Americans?” Admiral Zu Jicai was asking the question.

“Yes, in a sense I do. Because I believe the advantage is with us, so long as Washington does not know where these men are.”

“How long do you think it will take the Americans to find out?”

“With luck, two to three weeks. They’ll organize satellite searches, heat-seeking infrared, and they may finally notice some unusual activity on an island that is virtually deserted, as it has been for centuries. Also, the CIA has a very effective spy system.”

“What will the Americans do if and when they find out where their crew is being detained?”

“Nothing, because they will be too late. I intend to move all the prisoners away from the coast within sixteen days to a new jail deep in the interior, which even the Americans will never find. That buys us another twenty-one days with Seawolf…and then with profound sympathy we will tell them there has been a major nuclear accident on board, such that the whole area has had to be sealed off.”

“And the crew?”

“I am afraid they cannot be permitted to return, either, because by then they will know a great deal too much. We are going to interrogate them, vigorously, under the pressure of time.

“All of their senior operatives will know we are planning to copy Seawolf, and it will not take the Pentagon long to work out that we intend to achieve total domination of our own coastal waters, plus the oil routes of the Middle East to the Far East.”

“But Zhang,” protested Admiral Xue. “We cannot just execute them. There would be a world outcry.”

“We also cannot let them return, because then there would be an even bigger world outcry, perhaps at some of the methods we may be obliged to use in order to recreate that submarine and secure their…cooperation.”

“Then what do you propose to do with them?”

“There will be a military trial, held behind locked doors. Each member of Seawolf’s crew will be charged with treason against the Chinese people, and with bringing illegal nuclear weapons within striking distance of the peace-loving people of this Republic. They will be charged with endangering life on the high seas, and with the reckless operation of a nuclear submarine containing weapons of mass destruction, entirely against the spirit of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty of 1991.”

“But we did not even sign that treaty,” interjected Xue Qing.

“That does not preclude us from understanding it,” replied Zhang, uncharacteristically haughty. “And there may be further charges leveled at the Americans, involving lying to the Chinese military authorities while we struggled to make safe their lethal weapons, in order that the good people of Guangzhou may continue to lead their lives without fear of nuclear radiation in our ancient and historic city. Furthermore, we will charge them with sabotaging the reactor and deliberately causing a major nuclear accident in our port.

“Gentlemen, I would suggest that a prison term of perhaps thirty-five years per man would not be unreasonable for such crimes. And during those years, they will of course quietly disappear. But none of them will ever leave China alive. It is already too late for that.”

Each of the six men in the great room nodded assent to the master plan of the Navy’s Commander-in-Chief. This was unusual for China, because civilized talk and discussion is an art form in that country. But the men involved today were wise and experienced. And each of them was aware that the moment Colonel Lee had conferred on the satellite with Admiral Zhang and taken the American ship prisoner, the die was cast. They had done it. And there could be no going back now.

In 10 minutes, the C-in-C would be in the cell block, informing the Americans of precisely what was expected of them as military prisoners of the Chinese government.

1930.

Cell Block Mao.

Canton Navy Base.

Admiral Zhang Yushu kicked open the door and strode into the dirt corridor in front of the six occupied cells. He wore full dark blue uniform, with sidearms and high black boots. In his right hand he carried a slim wooden officer’s baton. He was accompanied by Commander Li and four guards, all of whom saluted the Navy Guard lieutenant, with three stars on his shoulder, already on duty inside the door.

As Zhang made his entry, the lieutenant stood to attention rigidly, all five feet two inches of him, and literally screamed, in English, “STAND UP NOW! EVERYONE…STAND UP IN THE PRESENCE OF THE MOST EXALTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE PEOPLE’S NAVY!”

The weary Americans dragged themselves up, and the guard screamed again, “YOU WILL SALUTE THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF! YOU WILL SHOW THE UTMOST RESPECT WHILE YOU ARE HERE! STAND UP AND SALUTE! YOU ARE CRIMINALS IN A PEACEFUL COUNTRY!”

“Captain Crocker,” said Admiral Zhang in fluent English. “Remember, there is no one in this world who can help you. You have been caught red-handed, apparently preparing for an act of war in our Chinese waters. There is nothing your country can do for you. Oh, I realize that mighty Uncle Sam could hurl a nuclear missile at the city of Canton and probably obliterate it, killing two million of my innocent countrymen. But it would not concern us overly. We would still have almost one and a quarter billion people left. War has always meant attrition to us. We can stand losses perhaps as no nation has ever done.”

He walked to the end of the line, glaring at each man. And then he walked back, and as he did so he intoned, “In any event, the USA is not going to hit Canton, because they most certainly want their submarine back, and they