concessions have made them see the light.”
“China, I take it. What are they doing now, persecuting more Vietnamese citizens?”
“Better — or worse, depending on your point of view,” he added hastily. “Seems China has been demanding air overflight rights, as well as landing and refueling privileges. Vietnam has gone along with it for now. Understandable — they have to live with China; we don’t.”
“And now?” she prompted, wishing he’d get to the point.
“Vietnam is wondering whether or not we might like some additional information on the explosions in the South China Sea. It’s one thing to try to placate China, and another thing entirely to let them kill your patrol boats.”
“Kill patrol — of course,” she breathed. “One of those incidents in the Spratly Islands. They’ve got proof China was behind it?”
“Proof, and more. They’re not so bad at snooping around, you know. After the conflicts between the two countries during the Cold War, Vietnam has developed a fairly extensive intelligence network in the region. And seeing as how it might be to their advantage right now, with the U.S. normalizing relationships with Vietnam — and, potentially, China — they’d like to share a little information with us.”
“About what?” she asked.
“He didn’t want to go into it over the telephone, but I was fairly sure you’d be interested. That a good enough reason to skip Roberto?”
She smiled and stood. “Remind me not to notice the next time you do something stupid, Armand. You’ve just earned yourself a real big brownie point.”
Ambassador Wexler went back to her office, smiling. In the intricate plotting and scheming that defined the relations between nations in the UN, information was golden. It looked like Vietnam had just decided to make a goodwill deposit in the American bank.
Two hours later, the ambassador from Vietnam arrived.
“An interesting opportunity you offer,” Ambassador Wexler said, eyeing the Vietnamese ambassador seated across from her. Ngyugen seemed his usual unflappable self. She could pick up no hint as to the reason for his visit.
“An opportunity for both sides,” he acknowledged, taking a sip of tea from the delicate bone-china cup. “One that could work to our mutual benefit.”
“Let me make sure I understand this. China has amassed a considerable force of fighters in your country, correct? Ones that they’re not willing to move anytime soon. Your government is concerned that the United States understand your opposition to this, while of course you feel somewhat limited in your ability to insist on withdrawal. Is that it?”
He nodded. “I’d feared it would be difficult for you, understanding the delicate position we stand in with regard to China. But, yes, that’s the situation exactly.”
“And you’re sure about this information?” she asked. “Careers are going to fall over this one, you know.”
“The source is trustworthy, I assure you. As trustworthy as any spy ever is, at least.”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “We are, of course, most grateful for the information. It will cause some problems, naturally, but not as many as allowing the situation to continue.”
“Yes. We thought as much. As it would for us, should the source of your information be discovered.”
“I’ll do my best to protect you on this, but you understand the difficulties.”
“We have fewer such problems in Vietnam. Perhaps you should consider implementing more control over your press, as we have done.”
She laughed. “As much as I’d welcome the idea at times, it really wouldn’t work here, you know.”
“Of course not. Still, it must be an attractive idea at times.”
“On occasion. But there are strengths to every weakness, Ambassador, just as every strength is weak at some point.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Odd. You sound very Asian, Madam Ambassador.”
“And in exchange for our understanding, and for the U.S. not insisting on Vietnam taking action, you’re prepared to offer us information?”
“More than information. Cooperation, where possible. You know, of course, that we’re a bit short on fighters ourselves. The bases they’re using in the south were all built by American forces, I believe.”
“The one thing you haven’t made entirely clear is exactly what this cooperation consists of. Or perhaps you have, and I’ve just failed to see the subtleties in the situation.”
“Perhaps this will assist you,” he said as he set his cup and saucer down on the coffee table. He opened his attache case, pulled out a brown folder, and handed it to her. “All their operational traffic and operations plans for the last week.”
She suppressed a sudden intake of breath. A treasure trove of intelligence! “Could I impose on you for the salient points of your analysis?” she asked, not yet wanting to leaf through the messages and bits of paper crammed into the folder.
“Of course. China has been conducting a rather delicate campaign of misinformation and deception. You’ve deduced, of course, that she herself is behind the explosions on the Spratly Island camps.” He paused for a moment. “As well as the attack on our own naval forces,” he continued grimly. The change in his expression made him look less the well-groomed and urbane ambassador she’d known for two years and more of a warrior. He had, she recalled, fought with American forces during the Vietnam conflict. He now looked more like the combat-blooded veteran he was.
“There is a source inside your satellite monitoring facilities,” he continued. “We haven’t been able to determine exactly who it is, but there is no doubt that there is one. It influences their planning immensely, although I cannot say what effect it has on their mainland. They’re trying to blame it on you, in an effort to unify Southeast Asia against the United States.”
“We’d started to suspect that,” she commented, still holding the folder gingerly.
“We know,” he replied, and allowed a slight trace of amusement to cross his face. “At any rate, you can expect a major incident sometime very soon, one that China hopes will justify in the eyes of the world their attacking your battle group. They plan to launch their strike from our soil. If that happens, we will lose any chance of continuing the normalization of relationships. This must not occur.”
“And the cooperation?” she nudged gently.
“I think you might like that part best of all.” For the next five minutes, he laid out a plan that rivaled China’s.
She listened for several minutes. Grim amusement crept into her expression. “Oh, yes,” she said finally. “I like this very much. And I think that Navy admiral in the South China Sea is going to like it even better.”
CHAPTER 23
Bien ran his hands over his face, trying to erase the tiredness he was sure showed there. Mein Low’s comments had kept him tossing half the night. Participating in the Chinese strike on the American battle group was unacceptable, yet the plan he’d presented to the American ambassador was almost as risky. He’d awoken at 0400 and finally decided to go to the Operations Center. It was better than lying in bed worrying.
After two hours of paperwork and staring at charts, he’d heard Mein Low’s grating voice in the hallway outside his office. Seconds later, the Chinese commander had entered his office without knocking, and was now helping himself to tea from the hot plate on Bien’s credenza. And using Bien’s own mug. Now, settled into a chair on the other side of the room, Mein Low fixed his Vietnamese counterpart with a cold glare.
“You have two choices,” Mein Low said. His voice carried no inflection to betray the least bit of emotion or weakness. “You may either execute this plan as I have given it to you, or I will have you shot. I will proceed thusly
