Edge of War

“They’ve used the bay as an overflow area for landing craft. I don’t think they would if the subs were there.”

“Hmmm.”

“The subs would add to their alarm,” said Zeus. “Just make them more nervous.”

“Maybe.”

Zeus fidgeted. He hadn’t been able to get the Navy to give him information on the precise whereabouts of the submarines — it was too closely guarded — but earlier alerts had indicated that the two boomers generally stationed there had put out to sea. Chinese doctrine called for them to be deepwater, within range of their American targets, during times of attack.

On the other hand, the harbor facilities were generally considered capable of hiding up to twenty submarines. There could easily be more there.

“You don’t have to go,” said Perry abruptly.

“I know that.”

“I’m serious. You’re pretty damn valuable — I should have vetoed it. I should have told the president no. It’s not too late,” added Perry. “I’ll take the heat. None of it will come back on you.”

“I think I can do it, General.”

Zeus almost said that he wanted, to do it — that he was dying to do it. His small tastes of action in the aircraft bombing the dam and then later driving the truck behind the lines to help get the SEALs and Josh MacArthur had fired him up. Accepting his promotion to major had meant leaving the Special Forces unit. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until the first few shots had whizzed over his head.

That part he didn’t miss. Escaping them, the exhilaration of beating an enemy — that was the good part. That was the part to live for.

Not that he could say that out loud. Saying it out loud would make him seem like a mindless bozo. It was one thing to be dedicated, and another to be dedicated to the point of recklessness. Perry saw the mission as reckless. Zeus didn’t: he saw it as difficult, not reckless. But recklessness was in the eye of the general.

“Hmmph.” Perry walked to the window. Despite the bombings, the hotel windows had not been broken. In fact, none of the large foreign hotels in the area had been hit. The Chinese seemed to be making at least a token effort to avoid hitting areas where tourists and business-people were concentrated.

“What do you think about taking Win with you?” asked Perry, gazing toward the river. The top of a Vietnamese gunboat, struck a few hours before by Chinese warplanes in broad daylight, was just visible. About three-quarters of the ship was underwater, the hull resting in the shallows where the captain had beached the craft to make recovery operations easier.

“You want me to take Win?” said Zeus.

“Actually I don’t.” The window reflected Perry’s grin. “But the major asked me to ask you. And whether I think it’s a good idea or not, I feel obliged to follow through on the request. Just as I would for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s not an order, Zeus.” Perry went over to the couch and sat back down. “I know you and he don’t exactly get along.”

“We don’t have to be friends to do our jobs, sir.”

“It can help, though. Win does have some talents,” added Perry. “He does speak some Chinese.”

Just enough to read off a menu, thought Zeus.

“I expect he was quite a pill at the Point,” said Perry.

“Top in the class,” said Zeus. It was a double entendre — Christian had been both the valedictorian and the biggest jackass.

“He is handicapped,” said Perry gravely. “That ego must make it hard to get in and out of doors.”

Zeus guffawed, utterly surprised by Perry’s remark. Generals never spoke of their underlings so candidly. Or at least this one never had.

“But as you say, you don’t have to like someone to work with him,” continued Perry, going back over to the Scotch. “Sometimes you can influence people the way gravity influences them. Push them in certain directions by exposing them to different things. Sometimes that breaks people. But sometimes, if you have the right person, it can help them overcome their flaws.”

Perry had just given Zeus the reason he had put Christian on his staff. He recognized that the major was headed for the very high ranks, and wanted to help him become a better officer. Maybe it would work — maybe Christian was becoming more human, less of a jerk.

But was he becoming more of a soldier? Soldiers couldn’t go around with sticks up their butt, or complain when a foreign army officer didn’t give a by-the-book salute. Or bitch because the seat in the helicopter had no padding.

“He did good work with the decoys,” said Perry. “That may be useful on the island. And he claims to know a bit about explosives.”

Not nearly as much as I do, thought Zeus.

“Your call,” said Perry.

“He does know some Chinese,” said Zeus. “So maybe he would be useful. If he can swim.”

* * *

Christian did know how to swim, though he couldn’t figure out why Zeus was asking.

“Because if we run out of fuel, we’re going to swim to shore,” Zeus told him.

“Running out of fuel is not an option,” said Christian.

“It’s not a planned option, no shit,” said Zeus. “Which is why I’m asking you again, can you swim?”

“Shit yeah.”

“Then you’re in.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t jump up and down.”

“I’m not.”

Be nice to the handicapped, Zeus told himself, even if the handicap is only an irony deficiency.

He laid out the basic game plan, which called for eight Zodiacs to rush across the Gulf of Bac Bo as soon as night fell. They’d have only sixteen Vietnamese soldiers, along with two spies; the rest of the space in the boats would be taken up by the engineered debris. At the same time, a pair of gunboats and the two real submarines that Vietnam had would leave port, trying to attract the attention of the Chinese ships offshore. The diversion would both help the Zodiacs cross and plant the idea that the submarines were responsible for part of the attack.

Once across the gulf, they’d land on Hainan near a fish-farming operation about twenty-five miles southwest of Ledong Lizu. There they would steal a pair of boats and take them around the southern end of the island, arriving at the target area by first light. They’d scout the harbor, find the easiest targets to plant their charges on, then go to work again at nightfall, setting charges and debris to make it look as if the ships had been hit by torpedoes from the minisubs. Charges would be planted in the boats they stole to make them look as if they’d been hit by torpedoes as well. They’d aim to coordinate with a 3 a.m. attack from the missiles on the tenders.

“Then what happens?” asked Christian.

“Then we go home.”

“How?”

“We steal a truck and drive back to the Zodiacs.”

“And if the Zodiacs have been discovered?”

“Then we steal a boat,” said Zeus. “But I’d rather take the Zodiacs. They’re faster, and the Chinese won’t be patrolling that far north. But we can take another boat from the fish farm area if we have to.”

“I think we ought to land farther north to begin with,” said Christian. “Steal something from up there. Then hit the fisheries on the way back. Once we take something from one place, they’ll be on guard there. If we switch it around a bit, there’ll be less chance of being caught.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, even if it was Christian’s.

“Okay,” said Zeus. “That’s what we’ll do.”