ASEAN…”
“Well, sending in a second carrier battle group and a Marine Expeditionary Unit seems pretty provocative to me, Cesare said. “I think that action can be fully justified in the context of a nuclear-armed Chinese naval group that has moved into the South China Sea. I mean it’s right in the heart of ASEAN, ” Curtis replied. “So would sending in the Air Battle force for support “I don’t want to send in the damned B-52 bombers, ” the President grumbled. “Sending them in would be tantamount to saying we want a nuclear exchange. Christ, Curtis. “Sir, the biggest threat facing our carrier battle group in the South China Sea is not sea-based threats, but land-based threats, ” Curtis argued. “Heavy bombers and large antiship weapons launched from shore could devastate the fleet . “You said that already.”
“The same argument applies to the Chinese, sir. Even a small squadron of Harpoon-equipped B-52s could devastate a Chinese surface action group-each bomber could destroy two to four vessels, with minimal risk to themselves.” The point, however grudgingly, was made on the President. “So what can the Air Force do?” the President asked after a brief pause. “We don’t have bases in the Philippines . “We’d operate out of Guam, sir, just like STRATFOR is doing, ” Curtis replied. “We’d deploy the First Air Battle Wing and have the manpower and equipment out there on hand for both fleet defense, sea interdiction, and ground attack. I’m not asking for permission to send the entire Air Battle Wing, sir, ” Curtis concluded. “We’ll need time to set up-at least five to six days. But General Elliott of HAWC has devised a special combat-information exchange system aboard several of his aircraft-including several modified B-52s and a B-2 stealth bomber-that could be extremely valuable to us if the shooting starts. I’m requesting permission to send Elliott and one aircraft, the stealth bomber, to Guam-under absolute secrecyto help get things set up.”
“Elliott?” the President asked, rolling his eyes. “Brad Elliott? He’s involved in this… already?” Curtis went slowly, calmly, trying not to inflame the President any further. “It was his Center’s satellite system-PACER SKY-that got the photos of the Chinese ship launching the nuclear missile at the Philippine Navy. We want to expand that same satellite system on all the Air Battle Force aircraft. “But why send a B-2?” the President asked. “The B-2 is a part of the Air Battle Force now, sir, ” General Curtis explained. “It requires a lot more security and a bit more ground-support pre-planning. In addition, this particular B-2 was General Elliott’s prototype with the full PACER SKY satellite system installed. It also has greatly enhanced reconnaissance and surveillance capabilities that we will need immediately if the Air Battle Force is activated.” The President thought about the proposal a bit, then, with a weary and exasperated sigh shook his head. “Listen, Wilbur, I can’t decide on any of that now. Continue with current directives and keep me advised. I’ve got some thinking to do.”
“Sir, may I?” “Save it, Wilbur. Thank you.” The meeting was definitely over. RESIDENCE OF THE PREMIER, BAIYUNGUAN TERRACE BEIJING, REPUBLIC OF CHINA THURSDAY, 29 SEPTEMBER 1994, 0602 HOURS LOCAL (WEDNESDAY, 28 SEPTEMBER, 1702 HOURS WASHINGTON TIME) The streets were still relatively empty as the small motorcade of dark, unmarked cars raced down Shilibao Avenue westward past Tian’anmen Square, then north past Yuyan Tan People’s Park toward the Premier’s residence in Baiyunguan Terrace, a complex of residences, green rolling hills, parks, and temples built especially for the Communist government leaders. Outer security at the twisting single-lane entrance was provided by a single unarmed guard who would politely point and describe the complex to tourists and children and even offer to take pictures for visitors; inside the narrow portal, however, was a detail of three thousand heavily armed soldiers, hand-picked by Premier Cheung Yat Sing himself, that guarded the sixtyacre complex. Once inside the complex, the motorcade sped past willowlined streets and meticulously tended sidewalks as they curved upward toward the center cluster of buildings, the private residence of Premier Cheung. The motorcade came to a sudden halt underneath a long breezeway, and the limousine’s occupants hurried inside the reception hall. If they had paused to look, they could have seen one of the grandest vistas in all Beijing-Yuyan Tan Lake to the west, the expansive Peking Zoo to the north, and the massive brick monuments of the Imperial Palace and Tian’anmen Square to the east, now glowing fiery crimson in the rising sun. But the limousine’s occupants were hustled directly inside and to the immediate meeting with the Premier himself in his private office. Leing Yee Tak, ambassador to China from the Republic of Vietnam, hardly had time to remove his shoes before none other than Premier Cheung himself entered the office, along with members of his Cabinet. This was highly unusual: the Premier never met with lowly ambassadors, only heads of state or occasionally minister- or Cabinet- level officials. Leing waited until the Premier had taken his seat at the center of a long dark granite table, then bowed deeply and approached the table. Cheung immediately offered him a seat with a gesture, and Leing sat. His interpreter aide remained standing behind him. Cheung was old, incredibly old even for a Chinese politician. The ninety-one-year-old leader of the world’s most populous nation still moved fairly well without assistance, although two burly Chinese Marines were on hand to help him in and out of his chair. His hair was dark, obviously dyed at the insistence of his advisers or from some deep-seated vanity, but his face was deeply etched from age and his fingers gnarled from arthritis. But Leing had been taught from his first days in the Vietnamese Socialist Party and the People’s Foreign Ministry that the eyes were the giveaway-Cheung’s eyes were still gleaming, still quick, still alert. Despite rumors to the contrary, Cheung still appeared to be in charge… But after quickly scanning the faces of the other Cabinet members, perhaps not. The Chinese Foreign Minister, Party Counsel, and Minister of Commerce were present, but the Ministers of Interior, Finance, Defense, and Industry were all replaced by their military counterparts. This was a military tribunal represented here, not a peacetime government. And Leing knew well the Supreme Commander of the People’s Liberation Army, High General Chin Po Zihong. Chin was young for a Chinese government official-sixty-seven, if Leing remembered correctly-but he appeared to be half that age. He was a short, barrel-chested, dark-haired Mongol that instantly reminded one of how the Mongol hordes of centuries past had struck fear into the hearts of soldiers throughout Europe and Asia. Unlike most other high-ranking military officers, Chin wore few accoutrements on his plain, dark grey uniform. He didn’t need ribbons and badges to demonstrate his power and authority to others. Cheung spoke, and afterward his interpreter said, “The Premier extends his government’s greeting to Comrade Leing. The Premier wishes to know if there is anything that would make the ambassador from the Republic of Vietnam more comfortable.”
“Nothing, Comrade Premier, ” Leing replied. “I thank you for your generous offer. I too wish to extend the greetings of the Republic of Vietnam.” Cheung bowed slightly at the neck, and the civilian members of the Cabinet did likewise-the military members did not move. Chin appeared as immobile as stone, unblinking and inscrutable. “The Premier wishes to extend an invitation to the ambassador from Vietnam to attend a briefing on the situation in the Philippines and the South China Sea, ” the interpreter said. “High General Chin will conduct the briefing. We will outline the actions and events that precipitated the current military actions in that nation and explain our objectives and intentions.” Leing could have fallen over backward in surprise. The Chi nese Chief of Staff himself, conducting a briefing on his military actions-for a member of the Vietnamese government? The offer was astounding. China and Vietnam had a long, off-again and on-again relationship over the past fifty years. Both were Communist republics; Vietnam’s government was fashioned as a smaller copy of China’s. Both were military powers in the Pacific, with Vietnam having the world’s fourth-largest army and the world’s eighth-largest small-boat navy. But political relations were based on expediency and short-term interests, and those relations were usually stormy at best and warlike at worst. Currently, relations were at the simmering but nonbelligerent level. The Spratly Islands question, long a point of contention, was at an impasse, with China having the definite edge. Vietnam had countered with its full membership in ASEAN, and with improving its relations with the Soviet Union, the United States, and many other countries. The brief but violent war over the Spratly Islands in the late 1980s was all but forgotten, border skirmishes were rare, and things were tense but bloodless for a few years now. Why would China feel the need to advise Vietnam on its current conflict in the Philippines? “On behalf of my government, I accept your gracious offer, Comrade Premier, ” Leing replied warily. “The incidents of the past few days in the Philippines have caused much concern in my country. “Allow me to assure you, Comrade Ambassador, ” the interpreter said, “that the People’s Republic of China harbors no ill feeling toward Vietnam. Our forces will not threaten any Vietnamese facilities or vessels in the region. You have the word of the Premier.”
“I thank you for your assurances, Comrade Premier, ” Leing said. Leing risked a full glance at General Chin, to perhaps see if Chin, the real power where Chinese foreign intrigue was concerned, would give similar assurances; he did not. His return stare was powerful enough to make Leing silent: “Your assurances are important, since Chinese naval vessels patrol the entire Spratly archipelago, within striking distance of Vietnamese-settled islands. My government will be relieved to hear that these warships mean no harm.” It was General Chin’s turn to speak now, and he did so without waiting for permission. “I give you my assurance that no Chinese vessel will approach any Vietnamese-claimed islands or interfere with Vietnamese naval operations in any way, he said through the interpreter. Leing’s own interpreter gave a slightly different version of Chin’s statement-he said that no Chinese
