Edge of War

two checkpoints along the highway. If you detour east at your next macadam road, you’ll miss them completely.”

“Thanks.”

“They’re sending random patrols farther south. I’d like to call you to warn you if I see something.”

“I don’t trust leaving the phone on,” said Mara.

“Well now, darlin’, you’re going to have to trust something.”

“Where are the Chinese?”

“They don’t know you exist.”

“Says you.”

“True. The nearest Chinese units are stalled at the reservoir west of Hanoi. They look as if they’re going to try making an end run through Laos and Cambodia. Or maybe wait for a beach invasion to the east. In any event, you have nothing to worry about from them.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident.”

“The Vietnamese can’t track your phone, Mara. You can leave it on. The Chinese know we have people in country, and they’re not going to come for you. You don’t have to worry.”

“You’re not paranoid enough, Jesse.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. Mara knew that he was simply trying to be as encouraging as possible, even if that meant overselling how safe they were.

“What’s going on at Langley?” asked Mara.

“I would use very strong words if I were not on the phone with a woman.”

Mara laughed. She could see DeBiase smiling as well. He loved playing the old-school southern gentleman, the pontificator and professor. He also loved to complain about a dozen different things, starting with a hernia he always claimed he was going to get fixed. But he also had a great deal of experience, and she knew he could be counted on in a crisis.

“You’ll be better off with the phone on,” said DeBiase. “I can’t help you if I can’t talk to you.”

“All right,” she told him. “I’ll leave it on.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re going to need a doctor in Saigon,” Mara added. “Josh is sick.”

“What’s he got?”

“A fever. Stomach trouble. It hurts when he pees.”

“I hope it’s not catching,” said DeBiase.

“I think it’s something he ate. Uncle Ho’s revenge.”

DeBiase wasn’t put off so lightly. “When did he get sick?”

“This morning it started coming on.”

“Did you tell Peter?”

“I didn’t talk to Peter. I talked to a communications specialist and I wasn’t about to unload.”

“Communications specialist. Hmmm.”

“Hmmm, what?”

“Just hmmm.”

“There’re no curse words with that?”

“Too many to report.” DeBiase laughed. Mara sensed that the fact she’d spoken to a low-level operator rather than a supervisor troubled him, even though it was far from unusual. But all he did was change the subject. “Are those SEALs treating you right?”

Mara knew she had to tell someone about what had happened on the train. But this wasn’t the time or the place. And besides, she already knew what DeBiase would say… something along the lines of, for every omelet, a few eggs get broken.

Which, ultimately, was probably the right response. But she had to think about it first.

“They’re good.”

“Shoot ‘em if they get fresh. Remember what I said about keeping the phone on.”

16

Hanoi

The Chinese had sent their two aircraft carriers into the Gulf of Bac Bo, ostensibly to blockade the northern ports of Vietnam; additional ships, mostly destroyers and a single cruiser, were working their way south to complete the blockade. As Zeus saw it, though, the primary purpose of the fleet was to secure a path for an invasion force, which U.S. satellites showed had been gathered on the large island of Hainan, which on the map looked like a fist about to punch northern Vietnam. The bulk of the force was located at Sanya, a civilian port and tourist city at the southern end of the island. The military facilities to the east of the city center — ordinarily used only by ballistic-missile submarines — were so crowded that ships were docked temporarily outside them.

They would be an easy target from the air, but Vietnam’s air force, ragged to begin with, was now essentially wiped out. And a sea attack seemed suicidal. The Chinese had plenty of air bases on the island, so that even without the aircraft carriers and their escorts nearby, the attackers would be in mortal danger. The shallow waters around the island made a mass submarine attack less than attractive as well — and since Vietnam didn’t have any submarines, it wasn’t even a possibility.

Actually, Vietnam did have two submarines — ancient North Korean death traps masquerading as midget submarines, so decrepit that they would surely sink if their lines were cut from the Hai Phong dock where they were berthed.

Which gave Zeus an idea. An incredibly risky, unorthodox, outrageous, and even ridiculous idea — but one he thought might work.

Albeit, with a great deal of luck.

“See, the thing is, the Chinese don’t think the Vietnamese pose any threat to the invasion force. Zero threat. Nada. Look at how these ships are aligned.” Zeus went over to the wall of the command bunker, where the images from his laptop were being projected onto the whitewashed cement. There were a dozen Vietnamese generals gathered around the conference table, but he was really talking to only one man: General Minh Trung, the head of the army.

Trung was the oldest person in the room. Zeus wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but he would not have been surprised to learn that Trung had fought against the Japanese during World War II.

“The Chinese plan rests entirely on the belief that they cannot be harmed,” continued Zeus. “It’s more than a feeling of superiority. It’s like the belief in gravity. Everything is based on the invincibility of the force at Hainan. So if we do something to disrupt that belief, they’ll have to change their plans. Or at least postpone them,” added Zeus. “And every day we can get them to delay is another day we have to prepare.”

For the inevitable defeat, probably, but Zeus didn’t say that.

“So how do we fool them?” continued Zeus, now in full lecture mode. “We attack them at their base, and in the process, make them think Vietnam has a large force they don’t know about. It’s a classic commando raid. Except we make it look like something else.”

The first step was to make sure the Chinese saw the midget submarines — and a lot of them. Then they’d have to disappear. Then there would be a SpecOp attack on the ports that would look as if it had been launched by the submarines.

“The Chinese will put two and two together and come up with four,” said Zeus. “Or better yet, four hundred.”

He looked at the translator, who stared blankly at him.

“It’s a joke,” Zeus told him.

The translator explained. The Vietnamese generals didn’t seem to know what to make of it. They looked at one another, but said nothing. Finally, Trung got to his feet. He walked to the projection of the island on the wall, studying the satellite image.