the Vietnamese army.
“All is ready, Captain,” his phone talker said, relaying the words he received from the other talker on the fantail.
“Very well. Just a little more light, and we will make our approach.” Getting close enough to unload the men and equipment into the small boat that would take them to the rock would be tricky. While the waters were well charted, and his GPS equipment gave him an accurate fix on his own location, too much could always go wrong. Navigating around rocks and shoals in his thin-hulled patrol craft would be safer when his lookouts could see what some lazy cartographer might have overlooked.
Ten minutes later, his forward lookout reported that visibility was clearing. The lieutenant moved back inside the pilot house.
“Take us in, Ensign,” he ordered. The younger officer nodded.
“Engine ahead one-third,” he said firmly.
The lee helmsman echoed the command, and the steel deck began thrumming as the powerful diesel engines that drove the two propellers increased speed.
“Come right, steer course 005,” the ensign ordered. The small craft heeled slightly to the right.
A few minutes later, the ensign said, “There it is, sir.” He pointed to a barely visible rock projecting from the sea.
“Very well. Let’s get on with it.”
In response to the ensign’s orders, the men on the fantail moved over the side into the Rigid-Hull Inflatable boat tethered to the ship. The RHIB, pronounced “rib,” was a mainstay of many naval services. Since it could be deflated, it saved on precious storage space. The outboard motor could drive it through the ocean at far greater speeds than the hull could withstand, so it took careful handling to avoid overturning it.
The young captain of the patrol boat, preoccupied with off-loading his passengers and their equipment, had even less warning than the tank commander had. He saw motion on the horizon and reached for his binoculars. Seconds later, the missile slammed into the patrol boat, impacting amidships at the waterline after cutting through the RHIB and her crew.
The missile penetrated completely through the patrol boat before it exploded. The blast disintegrated the entire midsection of the boat, driving a rain of steel fragments through every other part of the interior. Metal shredded flesh, killing most of the crew instantly. The explosion cracked the hull in half, broke the keel, and peeled the weather decks away from the supporting framework of stanchions and strakes. The warm sea poured in The fire had just enough time to ignite the small arms ammunition and the Stinger missiles before the sea claimed the boat and crew.
The two men were alone in the conference room, as alone as possible in the former Communist country. “What are the Americans thinking?” Ngyugen hissed. “To invade our waters, destroy our islands — it is war!” The Vietnamese ambassador to the United Nations seemed to swell up with indignation, which was part of his standard repertoire when talking about the Americans.
“Be calm for a moment and let me think,” Bien ordered. “There are matters that must be decided, and anger will not help us.”
“You would see them ashore in our country again? Burning, raping, destroying in the name of their democracy?”
“Come now. They have hardly landed on our shores. There is not even an amphibious vessel with the ships. No marines, no army.”
“Guns and aircraft alone can do enough damage,” Ngyugen muttered darkly.
“So can foolish talk!” Bien snapped. “Think for a minute! Do you really believe that the Americans have destroyed both of those islands?”
Ngyugen shot him an uncertain look that gradually solidified into outrage. For a general to talk so to him — it was unacceptable. But to have said those words, Bien undoubtedly possessed some key bit of information that he believed exempted him from the respect due to the older man. Still, the facts were obvious. “Of course. Their aircraft were above both locations as the explosions took place. What other purpose could there be for the ships being in our waters? And Colonel Mein Low assures me that the Chinese intelligence and satellite reports-“
“-say exactly what the army wants them to,” Bien finished.
“Are you implying that I have been misled?” Ngyugen’s face darkened as he considered the possibility. If it were so, then Bien indeed did have knowledge that would prove exceedingly useful. Perhaps it would be better to overlook the earlier disrespect, at least until Ngyugen could determine what secrets the general held.
“I imply nothing. Ambassador, you must remember that you are a prime target for Chinese manipulation and deceit. They understand how important you are to your country, and have chosen to try out their scheme first on you,” Bien said soothingly. “Luckily, I can tell from your comments that their plan will not succeed.”
Ngyugen recognized the attempt to placate him and allowed himself to be calmed. Bien might think him a fool, but Ngyugen was a critical part of Bien’s source of power, and the military commander knew better than to alienate his political connections. At least not until Bien could replace Ngyugen with someone more useful. Ngyugen watched Bien smile ingratiatingly at him.
“They do know of my army career,” Ngyugen said meaningfully, as the possibility that Bien might be right began to make sense.
“Of course they do. How could anyone overlook your two years of military service? Undoubtedly why they chose you as the key test of how believable their story is,” Bien said calmly. “Their foolishness is our gain. Very few members of the delegation could have hidden their insights so well. I am pleased that you chose me as the test of your facade. You must remember, I know you far better than most, yet I was deceived by your reaction for almost five minutes.” Bien forced a chuckle. “I almost believed that you believed their story. My apologies.”
“Accepted,” said Ngyugen, since nothing else in Bien’s entire conversation made sense to him.
“So you see the truth to this, of course. It is not the Americans who are behind this, if for no other reason than because the Chinese claim that they are. There are other facts, certainly. The fact that the Americans rarely intervene anywhere anymore without a United Nations resolution to validate their meddling. That they were here for a month before the bombings began, and have followed a routine pattern of operations and deployments for the South China Sea.” Bien shook his head. “Clearly the Chinese will have a difficult time convincing anyone of their deception, much less the more astute political observers such as yourself.”
“We must expose this sham to the world!” Ngyugen declared.
“Perhaps — in time,” Bien said musingly. “But I think there are other ways that it can be used to our advantage at this time.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That regardless of which country is behind the destruction — or even if it is a renegade group of terrorists acting alone — the Americans are taking entirely too much for granted in our area of the world. Withholding normalization of relations with our country, dictating trade terms to our neighbors — no, it would be extremely useful to all of us if the Americans perceived a united Pacific Rim standing against them. Then they would be desperate to gain a toehold in this area, which could only help us gain valuable trade concessions.”
“So we unite the region against both the Americans and China!”
“Not just yet. Remember, even after the Americans leave, we will still have to live with China. Better, perhaps, to pretend to believe China’s story for now. Place them in debt to us for our cooperation, assist them in persuading the others. That could be more useful to us in the long run.”
“But the Spratly Islands! The oil! That is our property, Bien! You suggest we just sit idly by while America and China apportion out our rights?”
“No, of course not. But another approach might work just as well.”
Bien talked for another fifteen minutes, explaining a plan that his eight-year-old son would have understood in five minutes. Finally, Ngyugen started nodding.
