identification portfolio for all three of you. Tell ops to double-time the credentials but do their best work. No one down there goes home until you have what you need. I don’t care if they are here all night, you will get your credos. Catch any flak and have them give me a call.”
Ding stood and shook Sam’s hand. “Thanks.”
Hendley shook the men’s hands and said, “You guys just be careful. Pakistan in January was no cakewalk, I know, but the Chinese are several orders of magnitude more competent and dangerous.”
“Roger that,” said Ding.
SIXTY-TWO
Mr. President?”
Jack Ryan woke to see the night watch officer standing over his bed. He sat up quickly; he was, after all, getting used to this. He followed the Air Force officer out into the hall before Cathy woke.
He joked softly as they walked: “I get more news overnight than during the day.”
The NWO said, “The secretary of state wanted me to wake you. It’s all over television, sir. The Chinese are saying American pilots are flying covert missions in Taiwanese aircraft.”
“Shit,” said Ryan. It was his idea, it was secret, and now it was on the news. “Okay, get the gang together. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
How did they find out?” Ryan asked the table full of his best military and intelligence advisers.
Mary Pat Foley said, “Taiwan is full of Chinese spies. Word leaked somehow. A Marine pilot was shot down and then rescued by a fishing trawler. That one event probably doubled the number of people who knew about the covert operation.”
Jack knew the real world had a habit of intruding on his best schemes.
He thought it over for a moment. “I’m reading the daily reports on our pilots’ activities. They are providing a real benefit to the ROC. Taiwan would have suffered tremendous losses to the Chinese if not for our operation.”
Burgess agreed. “Taiwan is there for the taking. A couple dozen American pilots can’t change that. But if the PLAAF had racked up another twenty-five air-to-air kills, the morale in the ROC would have already hit rock bottom, and there would be a groundswell of Taiwanese ready to throw in the towel. I’m very glad we’ve got our well- trained jet jocks over there giving it back to the Chinese.”
Bob continued, “We neither confirm nor deny the story. We just refuse to comment on China’s allegations. And we keep our guys over there.”
Everyone agreed, though Adler looked worried.
The Commander of the Pacific Fleet, Mark Jorgensen, had excused himself from the videoconference just as Ryan entered the room. Ryan had been around long enough to know that admirals did not usually tell the President they had something more important to deal with unless it was indeed more important.
Now he was back on-screen. His voice was loud, almost angry, as he interrupted the secretary of defense, who had been speaking about the situation in Taiwan. “Mr. President, my apologies. The Chinese have fired more anti-ship cruise missiles against another Taiwanese ship. They struck the
Burgess muttered, “God damn it.”
Jorgensen continued, “Chairman Su has ordered the United States to stay out of the area. He just publicly threatened to launch an anti-ship ballistic missile, apparently the Dong Feng 21, against the USS
There were gasps around the room.
Ryan asked, “What is the range of the DF 21?”
“Nine hundred miles.”
“Jesus Christ! We could move the
“That is correct, sir. And it is a true carrier killer, sir. One DF 21 would sink a
“How many of these weapons do the Chinese have?”
Mary Pat Foley answered this one: “Our best guess is eighty to one hundred.”
“Mobile launchers?”
“Yes, Mr. President. Land-based wheeled mobile launchers, as well as submarines.”
“Okay, what about our subs? We are operating undersea in the strait, yes?”
Jorgensen said, “Yes, sir.”
“Can we help with the Taiwanese destroyer?”
Bob Burgess said, “You mean with the rescue?”
“Yes.”
Burgess looked to Jorgensen. The admiral said, “We can launch cruise missiles against the PLAN if they attack the wounded ship.”
Ryan looked around the room. “That’s open naval warfare.” He drummed his fingers on the table.
“All right. Scott, get Ambassador Li on the line right now. I want him to go to the Chinese foreign ministry this second and tell them that any further attack on the
Scott Adler stood and headed out of the conference room.
Jack Ryan addressed the others: “We are on the verge of open war in the strait now. I want every U.S. asset in the East China Sea, the Yellow Sea, anywhere in the Western Pacific, on the absolute highest state of readiness. If one of our subs attacks a Chinese vessel, then we can expect all hell to break loose.”
Valentin Kovalenko climbed into the passenger seat of Darren Lipton’s Toyota Sienna at six in the morning. The Russian had instructions from Center. As always, he did not know the reason behind the message he was about to deliver, but he was placated in the fact that his Russian colleagues at the embassy had given him the go- ahead to do what he was told, so he did not question his directive.
He said, “You are to make an appointment with your agent immediately.”
Lipton responded with his usual anger. “She’s not a trained pet. She doesn’t come the moment I call. She will be at work, she won’t meet with me until after she gets off.”
“Do it now. Have her come before work. Be persuasive. Tell her to take a taxi to this address, and you will meet her there. You’ll have to convince her it is crucial.”
Lipton took the printed address and looked at it while he drove. “What’s there?”
“I don’t know.”
Lipton looked at Kovalenko for a moment, then put his eyes back on the road.
“What do I tell her when she gets there?”
“Nothing. You will not be waiting for her. Someone else will.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Packard?”
Kovalenko did not respond. He had no idea who Packard was, but Lipton did not need to know this. “I don’t know if it will be Packard or someone else.”
“What’s this all about, Ivan?”
“Just get the woman to the location.”
