by Andrew Watts
At that comment, Jinshan paused and made eye contact with several of the politicians and military members on the judicial panel next to Zhang.
Zhang slowly looked to his right and left, feeling uneasy as he saw the appreciative nods of at least half of his panel.
“But there are some among us who are so entrenched in this world of backroom deals and conspiracy that even I wasn’t able to stop them. As we all saw on the news recently, our beloved president and his family were the victims of a religiously motivated attack. Hard-right-wing religious zealots. We have suffered before at the hands of religious terrorists. But this is something different, I am afraid. This rash of religious extremism is a new pattern in the world. A global realignment, led by the West. These conservative religious groups come from all over. And not just one religion, as we saw when our president was so brutally murdered. While we once concerned ourselves primarily with Muslim terrorism, now radical Christian groups are infiltrating China.”
Murmurs from the audience of bureaucrats and politicians.
“And now—Chinese politics. So let me ask you, Secretary Zhang, why am I really on trial today? Is it because I have worked with our brave military members to protect our country? Or is it because you are motivated by extremist religious views?”
The audience began to chatter louder.
“How many of you here know that Secretary Zhang once attended a nonsanctioned Christian church? It is true. And in my investigations, I have uncovered evidence that he has even met with American Christian groups.”
Zhang threw up his arms and yelled for someone to silence Jinshan. But with his microphone off, his voice was barely heard. Zhang signaled the security guards to stop Jinshan from speaking. They looked up to the military general on the panel for guidance. The general next to Zhang shook his head in response.
“What are you doing?” Zhang shouted at the general.
“Please, Mr. Secretary,” replied the general.
Jinshan’s voice was raised now. “These religious extremists—led by America—will be our country’s downfall. They have attacked us. Attacked our leaders. Attacked our children. They assault the very values that we hold dear. My fellow citizens, we must rise up and fight back.”
The crowd was boisterous now. Cheers of approval. What was going on?
“I hereby call upon all members of the Chinese Communist Party to denounce Secretary Zhang and his extremist religious views. I call upon the panel to expel him from the Communist Party immediately, and to appoint someone who is not associated with these anti-Chinese groups as our new president.”
People were smacking their seats and clapping. The audience was with Jinshan. This was ludicrous. This was supposed to be his trial.
Jinshan looked at the woman standing just off the stage and nodded. The general sitting next to Zhang spoke first.
“While I understand that Mr. Jinshan may have not followed protocol in his actions, I share his concerns about the direction of our country.” He looked at Zhang. “Secretary Zhang, I am horrified to hear of your connections to these radical religious groups. I cannot support leadership that is influenced by our enemies. I motion that Secretary Zhang be expelled from the Communist Party of China, and that he be taken into custody until further notice.”
Immediately, several voices on the panel next to him spoke into their microphones, giving their support.
The audience was cheering.
Zhang said, “This is preposterous. Ludicrous. Surely you can’t—”
The general continued, “And I call for the immediate release of Mr. Cheng Jinshan and Admiral Song, and a full reinstatement of their titles and duties.”
More shouts of approval.
The tall woman with long hair stood behind him. Where had she come from? Zhang hadn’t even seen her approach. He noticed that she was incredibly strong as she seized Zhang by the shoulders and lifted him up out of his seat, prodding him to walk off the stage, where military police were waiting.
Zhang was dumbfounded.
Everyone was looking at him like he was the traitor. What had just happened? Didn’t they see? Didn’t they understand that he was the only one who was looking out for what was right?
As he was taken away, he saw Cheng Jinshan speaking to the woman. They were on stage, speaking with the general and other members of the panel. Zhang passed by the auditorium director. He pointed his finger at one of his workers and said, “Cut camera feed and audio. Mr. Jinshan wants to see all the footage before it gets circulated.”
“Yes, sir.”
14
Two days later, Jinshan walked into the conference room and looked around the table. Dedicated eyes stared back at him. Politburo mostly, but some military men as well. Senior generals and admirals. Some were Politburo Central Committee members. The head of the Ministry of State Security was present. All were loyal to Cheng Jinshan.
The others had been purged.
Shortly after Jinshan and Song had been acquitted of all charges and Secretary Zhang removed, the Central Committee had held a vote on who was to be their next general secretary. The vote for Jinshan had been unanimous, and the subsequent consolidation of power had been swift.
Jinshan sat down at the head of the table. Everyone was quiet, waiting for Jinshan to speak.
“How much has changed with our military readiness over the past few weeks?”
The question was understood by the occupants of the room: how much progress had been lost because of his unplanned incarceration?
General Chen spoke first, which was only appropriate. He was now the senior military officer in all of China. Jinshan had asked his predecessor to retire a few days earlier.
“Mr. Jinshan, very little has changed. We have continued to train and prepare our army, navy, and air force for the next stages. While China’s official response has been to apologize for the recent hostilities, we were able to convince the former president that we needed to maintain a high level of alert in case of a retaliatory response from the Americans. A separate order chain was used to keep up pretenses prior to…”
Jinshan smiled. “Prior to my public proclamation of my innocence?”
“Yes, sir.” Uneasy smiling. Ambition and fear of retribution coated every one of their faces. But a culture of strong central control was needed during wartime.
Jinshan nodded. “Good. I am pleased to hear that our military forces are making progress. They should be ready to execute with little to no notice. Am I clear, General?” Cheng Jinshan’s appointment as the general secretary also made him the chairman of the Central Military Commission.
“Of course, sir.”
“The Americans will likely be unnerved by my freedom and newfound power. We will need to ease their worries, and distract them from seeing us as their primary threat.” He looked across the room. Lena and Natesh sat in chairs along the wall. “How has the response been, domestically?”
Lena looked at Natesh, who was standing in the back of the room. He didn’t speak Mandarin. She quickly relayed the question to him in English. Natesh cleared his throat. “Yes, Mr. Jinshan. The video of your…speech…is getting extremely high views on all Chinese social media. Our bots are amplifying the positive response. The message that Chinese citizens are receiving is that you were unjustly imprisoned for standing up to religious activists and wanting to defend China’s military. Polls show most citizens believe that you desire our nation to grow stronger and stand up to oppressive Western regimes.”
“Are the people with us, Natesh?”
“Yes, Mr. Jinshan. The data that my team has been looking at shows that the overwhelming majority of Chinese people fully support you and your agenda. They see China as being attacked by outside meddlers, and they see you as a savior, sir.” Natesh’s eyes darted around as he said it.
Jinshan held his gaze for a beat longer than normal, then turned to his generals. “We will need to act swiftly. The American military and intelligence community will understand wha
t this means. They will be increasing their readiness levels. They will be making their own preparations.”
Nods around the table.
“We have prepared for years. Soon we will act. A few more weeks at the most. Everyone must be prepared to execute our plans immediately, when the order is given.”
As the generals and politicians were leaving, Jinshan said, “Natesh, Lena—please stay for a moment.”
They gathered near him and Admiral Song. Jinshan waited for everyone else to leave before speaking.
“I thank you for the great work that you have done thus far. I fear that there will be much more to do before we are finished.”
Neither of them spoke.
“Natesh, you seem concerned.”
Natesh glanced at Lena and then said, “Our loss-of-life estimates have increased.”
“Have they?” The old man sat back down in his chair. Natesh thought he looked awful. Tired eyes and sallow skin. More wrinkles and spots on his face than the last time Natesh had seen him.
Lena said, “Natesh, we don’t need to bother Mr. Jinshan about this.”
Jinshan held up his hand. “It is alright, Lena. Too often, I am only told good news. Perhaps if more people around me were brave enough to tell me the truth, I wouldn’t have spent the last few weeks in a prison.” He looked out the door as he said that, in the direction of the Chinese military generals and politicians he was working with.
Natesh said, “It’s just that—none of this was expected. Our plans would have been much more effective if they had been executed all at once. But we aren’t doing that. The GPS satellites were taken out a month ago, but the Americans are making progress towards fixing that. Their military readiness has increased dramatically in the past few weeks. We still don’t have an active supply chain in Latin America. And we haven’t even started our Canadian—”
Jinshan looked up at Lena. “But as you have said, the people are with us.”
“From what I’ve seen, yes, Mr. Jinshan.”
“Then we can overcome schedule setbacks, as long as our people are motivated.”
Natesh said, “Those people are going to find out eventually.”
“Find out what?” Jinshan’s eyes grew dark.
Natesh hesitated. “That none of this was about religion. I understand the need to motivate them. But I worry that by not telling them the truth, we hurt ourselves in the long run.”
Jinshan and Lena shared a look.
“Natesh, truth can be a dangerous thing.”
“A moment ago, you told me that you wished more people told you the truth.”
Jinshan’s fatigue was gone now. He raised his voice. Just a bit, but enough that Natesh was taken aback. “Mr. Chaudry, nothing has changed since the moment when we met in San Francisco. Our objectives have not changed. Our methods have not changed. The only thing that is new for you is that you are witnessing with your own eyes what sacrifice truly means. Bloodshed. Death. Lies. All of these things will be necessary. If you can’t stomach it, please let us know. Did you really think that a world war would be won in a few weeks? Did you think that a few blackouts in the United States would allow the Chinese army to stroll in and plant a flag in Washington? Ninety-day wars are campaign slogans. There is no such thing as a quick and easy war—not when you take into account the occupation and transformation of the populace. I hired you because this was a complicated, challenging task, and you were a worthy contributor.”
Jinshan’s flash of anger sent a chill down Natesh’s spine. “I’m sorry…”
Jinshan recomposed himself, speaking in a softer tone. “There can be no second-guessing now, Natesh. You have committed yourself to this. Soon, my generals will give orders for a military strike the likes of which the world has never seen. After this order is given, much of the globe will be in darkness.”
Lena said, “Mr. Jinshan, perhaps there is a way that Natesh can support us that is less—how shall I say—involved in the kinetic aspect of our plans?”
Jinshan looked at Lena, admiration in his eyes. “What would you propose, Lena?”
“We have an office in Japan. Your logistics supplier is out of there. The one who manages our shipping containers. Natesh’s talents are best put to use in operations management. With his knowledge of our ultimate objectives, he would be quite valuable as an embedded advocate in Japan, would he not?”
Jinshan looked thoughtful. “He could join our Tokyo embassy personnel as soon as the war begins. To ensure his safety.”
Natesh was looking between Lena and Jinshan, not sure if this was a good thing or not.
Finally, Jinshan said, “Go to Japan. Do our work where no one will be looking for you. We will get you a special military assistant. They will make sure that anything you need is done. I want you to continue to improve our logistics. The container ships must begin their journey across the Pacific soon. Convoys will need to start as soon as the EMPs detonate.”
“Yes, Mr. Jinshan.” His voice sounded shell-shocked.
“Now go. Both of you have a lot of work to do.”
Jinshan’s first order of business was to solidify alliances. To reassure worried leaders that he would look out for them. He would meet the Russians again in Beijing. Their proxies could be trusted. But North Korea was another matter. There was only one decision maker there. And while Jinshan preferred not to step foot in the Hermit Nation, it was a necessary evil. Flattery went a long way with that one.
The jet landed in Pyongyang at night. Thankfully, he was met at the airport. As requested, the North Koreans did not have any sort of welcome party waiting. Only a seven-vehicle column of military jeeps and the Great Leader’s personal limousines. Jinshan knew that one of the two limousines carried a body double, a man whose sole job it was to walk around and test the air for an assassin’s bullet. He smiled at that. What a life.
The door to the second limousine opened up, and Jinshan was asked to walk over. He bristled at that, but obliged. Two of his bodyguards and a translator followed. They were searched, and then Jinshan and his translator sat inside the vehicle. Across the cabin sat the North Korean leader.
The conversation was interrupted every few seconds with rapid translations.
“So you’ve done it, Mr. Jinshan. Or shall I say President Jinshan. I congratulate you.”
“Yes, I have. And thank you.”
“And now you are here to make sure that I stick to our agreement?”
Throughout his career, Jinshan had conducted many a business meeting with high-level foreign executives, often using translators. It had always amused him when he watched the other executives carefully crafting their questions and answers in their native tongue, only to have those carefully chosen words butchered in the translation. Better to keep it simple.
“Yes. I have come to make sure that you are still committed to our arrangement.”
“When do you intend for the first shots to be fired?”
Jinshan said, “That will come soon. But I would ask that you help me with something else first. A preliminary demonstration of power. Similar to what you are already doing.”
The North Korean leader looked surprised. He leaned forward, his double chin becoming more pronounced. He nodded vigorously, a look of intrigue appearing on his face.
One of the North Korean generals—looking tiny in his oversized uniform—misdiagnosed the Great Leader’s facial expression. One could never go wrong sticking up for the Great Leader, so the general began raising his voice in a high-pitched protest, directed at Jinshan. The North Korean leader looked at him, annoyed, and yelled for the general to shut up. While the scene was amusing, if not insulting, Jinshan remained quiet. One always found oneself walking on pins and needles in the Hermit Nation.
“Could you provide me with the details?”
“Of course. I propose that I leave a team of ballistic missile specialists here to help your men with the technical setup. Is that acceptable to you?”
“This will be accepta
ble.” China had been providing materials and expertise to the North Korean missile program for decades.
“Excellent. With regard to South Korea, you should expect further word on timing within a few weeks.”
“You will provide me with a target list?”
Jinshan shook his head. “I am sure that you already have military plans for such an attack on the South. I ask only that you execute the plans you already have. We will do the rest.”
The large round-faced man nodded, a proud look displayed for his generals. “I will lay waste to the South. It will be turned to ash.”
Jinshan could see through the act. But he wouldn’t dare to challenge the young man. If an unstable man was doing what you wanted him to do, it was best not to introduce any new variables into his calculations.
“And after the war is won? Our terms remain the same?”
“Yes. You will have Korea. All of it.”
15
Tokyo
Tetsuo watched the woman at the other end of the bar. She was all dolled up. Carefully plucked eyebrows, lots of makeup, and full breasts pressed together by her tight-fitting black shirt, a hint of a bright purple bra showing underneath. High-heeled leather boots. She looked like she had a mix of Japanese and Caucasian blood, if he were to guess.
She laughed a little too loud and placed her hand on the shoulder of the white man next to her. There were a group of them, obviously American service members by their haircuts and loud mannerisms. Each of them stole glances at her bosom as they drank, just happy to be off base. If they only knew who she worked for.
This part of town was filled with bars that catered to the Americans. It could get rowdy, especially in the evenings and on weekends. Curfews were an on-again, off-again affair, the base commanders reacting to the latest incidents. But women like her would always be around, regardless of the military rear echelon’s attempt to instill good behavior among the troops during their off-duty time. Hers was the oldest profession, after all.
