by Andrew Watts
The first politician said, “Can you explain what you mean by that?”
Jinshan sipped his tea, and his face looked grave. “Over the past two decades, China has been strengthening its military might. We have been closing the military capability gap between us and America. We have built dozens of submarines, stealth jets, military satellites, and…”—he paused for effect—“most importantly, cyberweapons. We hold some advantages today. But I can’t promise that we will hold those advantages in five years. And I can almost guarantee that with our budgetary constraints, we will begin to fall behind our foes in the strength and modernity of our conventional weapons systems.”
A new picture appeared on the screen, illustrating how Internet-based computer attacks could be used against a foreign enemy.
Jinshan continued, “We have reached a new level of sophistication with our cyberweapons technology. The recent cyberattacks on the United States—what they have been referring to as the Blackout Attacks—have greatly reduced their satellite communications ability and completely destroyed their organic GPS satellite network. They are attempting to switch over to European-owned GPS networks, but that is no easy task.”
“And the Americans are calling for our heads on stakes. For one of our heads in particular,” commented one of the politicians.
Jinshan nodded. “I understand your frustration, given the current political climate. But that will be addressed. Please allow me to finish.” There was a hardness to his tone.
The politician held out his hand. “My apologies. Please continue.”
“We have the capability to strike American communications and utilities infrastructure and make the previous cyberattack look minor in comparison. We have implanted software into several key utilities in their country that allow us to disrupt the vast majority of their electrical grids, oil pipelines, and water pumps. Many of the key nodes to these networks cannot be disabled through software alone. So I have emplaced human resources at our disposal, assigned to destroy them if need be. In essence, we can turn off the communications and electrical grids of the United States—a country that is completely dependent on technology.
“Logistical supply lines for food, water, oil, and gas—lines that have become too reliant on technology—would crawl to a standstill. We estimate that their grocery stores would be bare within the first forty-eight hours of our strike. Cold winters and hot summers would turn deadly. The civilian population within the United States would begin looting and rioting in the streets, and law enforcement and hospitals would be overwhelmed. We estimate that it could be months before they would be able to get their systems back up and operational. If they are even able to recover.”
The next picture was a rendering of the United States at night, the dense cities illuminated by masses of lights.
“As discussed, most of America’s GPS and communication satellites—both military and commercial—have been impacted by the cyberattacks of last month. But there are several weapons that have yet to be used. The most important of which are our highly advanced EMP weapons.”
Jinshan clicked and several red circles appeared, spread out across the map of the US. The lights began to go out on the map, simulating the effect of the EMP weapons on the US electrical grid. “These EMP weapons would further amplify our attack on utilities and communications infrastructure.”
“This capability is very impressive,” the first politician said.
“Gentlemen, we have reached possibly the only point in our lifetime when three things will be true simultaneously. We have a distinct military advantage over our main adversary, a distinct economic advantage over our main adversary, and the people’s support of our capable political leaders. You see, gentlemen, I study trends. And the trends indicate rapidly approaching changes in our national health. If nothing is done, our unemployment will go up. Our per capita income, adjusted for inflation, will go down. And we will lose the support of our people. The Chinese citizen will demand change. After that occurs, history tells us that violent revolution will soon follow.”
The politicians squirmed in their seats. “Is it really that bad?”
Jinshan nodded. “I liken the world of international relations to the jungle. As the saying goes, it is kill or be killed. Our leaders must show strength and choose aggression when that is the best option for our survival. China needs a change in strategy.”
Jinshan read their faces carefully. The politicians looked alarmed, but attentive.
“Do either of you play Xiangqi?” Pronounced Shyahng chi, it was sometimes referred to as Chinese chess.
“Of course. I used to play a lot when I was in school,” one of the men offered. The other politician, and the general, stayed quiet, waiting to hear Jinshan’s point.
“I played when I was young as well. I enjoy it very much. It hones one’s strategic skill. Do you know what the Western translation is? I will tell you. They translate Xiangqi into ‘the Elephant Game.’ Partly—for obvious reasons—because the first character for the word means elephant. And partly because the original pieces were carved from ivory. Taken from creatures of the jungle, who knew how to survive in the wild.”
He paused for effect.
“But when explaining the game to Americans, I have always called it Chinese chess.” He shook his head. “I think that explanation doesn’t do the game justice. The Elephant Game is so much more nuanced than a simple game of chess. I bring up the Elephant Game because it mimics our own situation. In the game, soldiers normally do not support each other in the beginning. Because at that point, they are vulnerable. But as the game progresses, it becomes advantageous to form new alliances.”
He met their eyes.
“We have always been your close friends, Jinshan,” said the first politician.
“I know you have. But now, our bonds must become stronger still. Let me ask you a question. What do you think will happen in ten years, when our inflation is twenty percent and our GDP is negative four, as indicated by the chart earlier? More importantly, what will happen to your sons?”
Jinshan did not wait for an answer. “Do you think our political system will survive if unemployment increases to more than one in four? And if wages decrease by more than half? This is what we project in less than ten years. You will not hear these figures uttered in the halls of parliament. But I assure you, they are accurate. As a businessman, it is my profession to study these figures, for the benefit of my company. But as a servant of China, it is my duty to recommend action based on these figures, for the well-being of our country.”
The politicians took in what they were hearing. Both looked concerned.
Jinshan spoke gently now. His eyes seemed to pierce those of his audience. “Our nation needs direction. We have the greatest country on earth, filled with peace-loving people. But our population needs more resources in order to sustain its growing prosperity. The United States clumsily throws its military around the world, killing civilians in the name of peace. Its citizens, too, yearn for direction. Chinese policy and law have transformed our nation into a dominating force. Today we have the ability, gentlemen, to transform the entire world into a unified and prosperous planet. Imagine a world without borders, without the threat of war, without the need to build up stockpiles of weapons and worry about whether our financial burden will support our potential ability to kill. Have you ever wondered what a united world would look like? It could look like China…” His voice was just a whisper now.
It wasn’t just an act. Jinshan felt pride and excitement at the great things they could accomplish with one set of laws around the globe. He wanted to cement his legacy before it was too late. Before his sickness took him to his grave. This was the one choice that China had if it was to continue prospering. And it would cure not only China, but the world as well. Jinshan knew that they must act now to secure China’s future with bold action, or they would slowly go down on a sinking ship.
Jinshan used altruism as his reason for action. He did thi
s not because politicians were altruistically motivated, but because they wanted altruistic reasons to be seen as their primary motivation. Even in this small group, he knew that it was the best way to manipulate them. When he finished listing off how China’s global “spreading” would better the world, Jinshan switched to his true pitch: appealing to their vanity and ambition.
“Each of our new Chinese states would need Chinese governance. And a new global Chinese government would need new and more powerful leadership—capable leaders with the foresight to plan for all contingencies. These leaders would no doubt be the same ones who had the foresight to take bold steps when others were happy with the status quo. You see, gentlemen, as we realize the dramatic shift in strategy our nation must make to ensure our prosperity, we also realize the internal reorganization that must take place—so it is not only your support that we seek, but your leadership as well.”
Now they were both starry-eyed as they imagined their personal futures. A knock at the door snapped the four men back to the present. The general pressed a button on his remote and the screen went blank. He walked over to the door and let in a pair of servants with roller carts. Lunch was being served.
Jinshan spoke again. “Let us eat, gentlemen. We can discuss this more after lunch.”
He was pleased.
He saw General Chen looking back at him, a knowing grin on his face. With these two, the rest will go, Jinshan had told the general on the phone. Jinshan sat back in his chair and refilled his teacup. They had done it. Over tea, they had just overthrown the Chinese government and cemented the start of a world war.
The meetings continued for the next hour. Then the Chinese politicians and military advisors departed. Jinshan looked to his assistant and nodded to bring his next guests in.
The Russians were only too eager to put the screws to the Americans. Jinshan’s conversation with them had been ongoing for more than a year through back channels.
The Russian ambassador actually had a prepared message from his own president, which offered military cooperation with China in the Pacific. But that was not part of Jinshan’s strategy. He needed the bulk of Russian military assets to remain near Europe. There, the Russians would force the Americans to keep valuable assets in the European and Middle Eastern regions. Jinshan needed the Russians to serve as a deterrent.
Russia had a fraction of the military power that the USSR had once held. But it still owned more nuclear warheads than any other nation on earth. And even today, its military was quite formidable compared to most of the West.
“Good day, Mr. Ambassador.”
The Russian ambassador to China was all smiles. He walked up to Jinshan’s desk and shook his hand, commenting on the strength of the proposed military plans. Jinshan preferred never to show his hand. But he knew of the Russian president’s obsession with military and intelligence details, and he needed him to get on board. So he had given them a glimpse.
“Moscow is very impressed. And our leadership wishes to extend to you once again our warmest regards. Russia and China are strong strategic partners, and we want to continue this prosperous relationship in the future.”
“Of course.” Jinshan sipped his tea. It was cold now, but his voice was growing hoarse from talking. “That is why I have invited you here. I can’t trust this message to a phone call or the written word. I need you to travel back to Moscow and deliver this directly to your president.”
“What shall I tell him?”
“I need Russia to contact all the countries in the European Union and the Middle East. I would like your president to express his neutrality in this war, once it begins in earnest. But I also want him to pose to these nations an ultimatum. If they enter the war, or pledge allegiance to the United States, Russia shall do the same with China. And Europe shall be Russia’s prize.”
The ambassador listened happily, his jowls jiggling as he nodded. “I understand. You wish to keep this between the United States and China. And you want Russia to be the neutral deterrent. Standing by in case any of the European nations join the fight. Do I have that right?”
“Yes, Mr. Ambassador. I would like you to make these conversations happen over the next twenty-four hours, if possible.”
“The people of Russia would like nothing more than for you to succeed, Mr. Jinshan.”
Jinshan nodded. He knew that the Russians would cooperate. Europe was their prize, they had been told. Whether any of the EU nations joined the fight or not.
8
David took a bite of buttered toast and scrolled through the news headlines on his phone.
Coming off their vacation in Florida had been an adjustment. Even if they had only stayed for a few days, it had been great to get away. But now they were back to the grind.
It was dark outside, and the kitchen light was dimmed down all the way. He sat at their round kitchen table across from his wife. She was wearing a worn purple bathrobe. Taylor—their six-month old—lay sleeping in her rocker on the floor, bright-colored plastic shapes dangling over her tiny head. She had just fallen asleep after nursing, a look of pure satisfaction on her face.
Lindsay stole a sip of coffee from David’s cup and whispered, “Between Maddie and this one, I was up five times last night.”
He looked up from his phone. “I’m really sorry.”
“I’m going to be a zombie today.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.”
“So—okay.”
“You men have it so easy.”
David looked at his watch. “I have an early meeting.”
“Get going. Leave your wife. She’ll have a hot meal for you when you return.”
“Hot wife, hot meal. Can’t ask for more than that.” He got up and smooched her on the cheek, which she held out for him.
He grabbed his keys and waved goodbye again, careful to shut the door quietly so as not to wake up either of the two kids. The drive to the CIA headquarters only took about twenty minutes at this time of the morning. It helped that David lived close by.
As he drove along the streets, flashes of the past few weeks rolled through his mind. While he still wasn’t quite sure what a normal week would be like now that he was officially a full-time CIA analyst, he was liking the work so far. The last few weeks had been anything but ordinary.
As a technologist for In-Q-Tel, the CIA’s private equity firm, he had traveled the country evaluating new software and hardware that might have military or intelligence applications. Now, he was evaluating Chinese technology, as well as geopolitical and military intelligence estimates, as part of the SILVERSMITH team.
David passed the security checkpoints in the CIA headquarters and began walking towards his office space. He wasn’t sure if he would see his brother today. Chase, while technically part of the SILVERSMITH team, was a different type of CIA employee. He was one of the special ones.
Chase Manning was a former US Navy SEAL and had entered the CIA two years ago as a member of its elite Special Operations Group. But a few recent high-profile and successful missions had put Chase in very high demand. He wasn’t an operations officer—he didn’t have the training and experience of that world. But he had become a sort of hybrid agent—working with the operations officers and the Special Operations Group. Chase learned fast, and his ability to quickly solve problems and integrate seamlessly with special operations units made him a valuable tool of the SILVERSMITH program.
Alas, his desk was empty. They must have him out on assignment. David expected to receive either an email or an intel report over the next day, letting him know more about his brother’s whereabouts.
“Morning, David.”
“Morning, Susan.”
Susan Collinsworth was pushing fifty years old, with strands of gray starting to overtake her otherwise short brown hair. She had the look of a stern elementary school librarian—she wore rectangular Coach glasses and a cashmere sweater vest over a white button shirt.
As far as David
knew, she had no kids and had never been married. The Agency was her life. She was always in the office before him and worked like a dog.
Susan had taken David under her wing during his brief time here at Langley. In his conversations with her, he had learned a bit about her history. While she was modest in her self-description, David had learned that Susan had made a name for herself early on in her career. In the ’90s, she had been running agents out of various European stations. Several of them had been former KGB operatives, struggling with how best to navigate the transition to the modern Russian spy game.
David was fascinated with that part of the work. While his brother was getting more than his share of it now, it was foreign to David. In his own section of the intelligence world, he was relegated to research and analysis. His little wins came while identifying the technical clues that made the geopolitical puzzle clearer.
Behind closed doors over half a dozen lunches, Susan had regaled him with stories of foreign agents and dead drops on dark city streets. Surveillance operations on diplomats. Hunting moles within their own agency. “In one European city, I was running this girl—a pretty little thing, a secretary—who was sleeping with the Ukrainian ambassador…”
She was careful about how much she gave away, even decades later. But it became clear to David that Susan had been there and done that. From her stories, David learned that the real goldmines weren’t garnered from computer hacking or telescopic lenses. The most fruitful bounties came from long nights of note taking with reliable assets. Assets with inside access to their own national intelligence organization’s knowledge and plans. These bits of information allowed US intelligence to ferret out moles, to protect their own agents, and to continue the flow of valuable information into the hands of the policy makers.
David followed Susan into their meeting room and sat down at the long, glossy conference table. About six others were already sitting at the table. Most were typing on computers and sipping coffee, trying to achieve the proper level of caffeination.
