Overwhelming Force

by Andrew Watts

  “The one bright spot in the WestPac battles were the complete domination of all US submarine battles. We believe that gave us some leverage in the cease-fire agreement. We estimate that US Navy submarines have sunk over twenty-five Chinese warships and eight submarines. We were able to deny large areas of water to the Chinese fleet.”

  The chief of staff, who wore the gold dolphins insignia of a submarine officer on his chest, smiled broadly. “If the fighting starts back up, it will all be over in a few weeks, gentlemen.”

  The admiral observed nods of approval at the rare bit of good news.

  “Where are the Chinese carrier groups?”

  The intelligence officer turned his laptop around and flipped to a specific slide. “Sir, the Chinese have divided their naval forces into two main groups. The first is a two-carrier group near the Sea of Japan. It has been hugging the territorial waters of coastal China. One of our LA-class boats was trailing them as of this morning. The second group is a single-carrier fleet located near the Philippines. The carrier is the Liaoning. This was the one that launched the failed air attack on Guam.”

  “Is she being trailed?”

  “She just went through a delousing process, sir. They’ve set up a very large sonobuoys field with their maritime patrol aircraft as she travels west, back towards China.”

  “West?”

  “Yes, sir. We believe the Liaoning is taking aboard new squadrons of aircraft. Our intelligence reports say she may be going into port. Although…” The intelligence officer demurred.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, there is some disagreement at ONI about whether or not the Liaoning is actually going into port. She’s headed that way, but they don’t seem to be making the normal preparations in port for her arrival.”

  The CAG said, “So we’re not sure what her intentions are, and we don’t have an exact position on the carrier. Is that right?”

  The officer’s eyes shifted around nervously. “Yes, sir.”

  The CAG rolled his eyes. “We need to know where the enemy is, and what they’re up to.”

  “Yes, sir.” The intelligence officer cleared his throat. “Separately, we have recent reports that a very large group of ships are about to depart their commercial shipping centers, and those groups may include some naval vessels that were docked there.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Admiral Manning tapped his desk. “Thank you. You may leave.” The intelligence officer scurried out of the admiral’s stateroom.

  “Gentlemen, we must be prepared for what comes next. We must be prepared to strike back.”

  The submariner chief of staff smiled again. “The element of surprise is gone now. If the fighting starts up again, we’ll crush them. It’ll be over before you know it, sir.”

  Admiral Manning frowned. He had always thought his COS an intelligent man. How many wars had begun with otherwise intelligent men uttering those words?

  13

  Lena Chou traveled through Beijing in a convoy of government sedans. Her hair was in a tight bun, and she wore a hooded sweatshirt that kept her warm and hid the scars on the left side of her face.

  She had been in the city just a few weeks ago, but already much had changed. The pattern of life was different. The looks on people’s faces were different. The people themselves were different.

  Digital billboard signs that had been advertising nail polish or dish soap now displayed a call to arms.

  FIGHT FOR CHINA, read one of them. It showed a picture of a handsome young man holding a rifle aimed towards the sea, his family behind him, huddling together.

  MAKE A DIFFERENCE. SERVE YOUR NATION, read another. This advertisement showed three women standing side-by-side. They were all very pretty. One was dressed in a flight suit, holding her helmet by her side. Another wore green camouflage. The third wore the white-and-black dress uniform of the Navy, complete with black tie and shoulder boards. The women looked determined and proud.

  Lena’s vehicle turned down a busy street. She saw that similar government propaganda had been plastered on every storefront. At the street corner, a line of young men waited outside a recruiting center. The line went around the block, with most of the boys looking at their phones.

  She expected that they were reading carefully curated articles designed to enflame their spirits. The digital ads and articles, social media posts and images…they all blended together now, serving one purpose: transform China into a wartime state.

  Their convoy slowed at a traffic jam, and the driver flipped a switch on the dash. An overhead light began shining red, and a siren sounded. The tone was different from what she’d grown accustomed to in America. The sea of cars parted, and Lena’s convoy zoomed on through.

  A few minutes later, she pulled into a small gated army base in the center of the city. A PLA helicopter was spinning on the pad. Lena was escorted into the cabin of the aircraft and the door slid shut. They took off, and she could see the contrast of different parts of the city. The wealthy and modern parts, with their bright LED screens and marvelous skyscrapers, and the impoverished working-class sections, with drab one-bedroom homes covered with sheet metal. But all of the neighborhoods were crowded with volunteers, headed to fulfill their national duty. Cheng Jinshan’s dynasty was beating the drums of war.

  For an hour, the aircraft traveled over mountainous terrain covered by an endless evergreen forest. The aircraft set down on a square concrete landing pad hidden among tall pines. The door slid open and one of the aircrewmen escorted her out of the spinning rotor arc.

  A military escort led her into an army vehicle, which drove fifty meters before coming to a full stop at the base of a rock wall. Security guards inspected her and then went into their camouflaged guard house.

  In front of the vehicle, the mountain moved.

  What had appeared to be a dark stone facing was a carefully painted door. The door slid to one side, revealing a long, well-lit tunnel that dove into the earth at a steep grade. The drive took approximately five minutes, and then she was dropped off at a loading dock.

  Her escort was female. A pretty young officer in the PLA. Probably one of the ones from the recruiting poster, Lena mused. The woman was all business. She didn’t break the silence as they marched through several sterile hallways and up two flights of stairs. Lena wondered how the woman had ended up here. Would this have been her own path, had she not been recruited as a teenager by Jinshan?

  They walked up another flight of stairs and through a maze of hallways, each busy with uniformed men and women scurrying about. Every face looked exhausted and intense.

  Lena’s escort stopped outside a door and knocked. A red nameplate on the door had five stars below a familiar name. Lena’s eyes widened slightly as she read it. She looked at the woman escorting her, who nodded politely, but there was no hint of recognition at the significance.

  Lena’s escort was not aware that Lena’s father’s name was on the door. A man she hadn’t seen in twenty years. A man who had agreed never to see his daughter again. To give her up to China, so that she could be used as a sleeper agent.

  And that man had apparently risen to be the highest-ranking general in all of China. Quite a step up from where he had been when she had left her home without so much as a goodbye.

  The door cracked open. A balding colonel showed his face. “She may enter,” he said, looking at Lena. The escort bowed and departed, never uttering a word.

  Lena had many natural gifts. These capabilities, both physical and mental, had given her an enormous sense of confidence. She had always been so sure of herself.

  But her knees felt weak as she walked into General Chen’s office and saw him sitting behind his desk. The general looked proud as he watched her enter.

  “Have a seat.”

  The general indicated one of the chairs across from his desk. His aides left the room, leaving father and daughter alone in silence.

 
“Would you care for some tea?” He gestured to a tray that had been set out next to his desk.

  Lena hesitated, and the general said, “Make us both a cup.”

  “Yes, General.” The first words spoken to her biological father in over twenty years.

  Lena rose from her seat and began preparing two cups of tea. Her father studied her as she poured hot water over dried tea leaves. A woody aroma filled her nostrils as steam rose up from the cups.

  General Chen said, “It must come as a surprise to you, being brought here like this after all of this time.”

  Lena interpreted the statement as an attempt to change the subject to her years spent in America. She was about to answer when the general continued. “Seeing me like this, I mean. In charge of the entire People’s Liberation Army.”

  She paused, studying him. Then she nodded and continued stirring the tea. “You honor me with your accomplishments, Father.” She made sure to keep her tone respectful, despite the emotion she felt.

  Long-forgotten memories of her childhood flooded her mind. She had served her father tea many times as a young woman. But she was a different person now.

  “Inviting you here is my pleasure.”

  The tone he used suggested that he considered this meeting something Lena should be grateful for. “After all, you are my daughter.” She paused again, and their eyes met briefly. Then she continued stirring.

  Lena remembered from her upbringing that there were many underlying meanings wrapped into Chinese tea culture. Serving tea to her father was a sign of respect. Serving tea could also be a way to refresh a family bond. Or to apologize.

  No. This was none of those things.

  Lena sensed that there was no regret or sorrow in this man’s heart. His suggestion that she serve him should be interpreted as an assertion of dominance. As a reminder of his position. Why?

  She set a cup down on his desk and then took her own cup from the tray. As she stepped away, Lena watched for the general to tap a few fingers on the table next to his cup. This was the traditional Cantonese gesture of gratitude. It never came.

  He sipped his tea. “I understand you have served China well over the years.”

  “I have tried to serve honorably, General.”

  “The chairman speaks highly of you.”

  The chairman. Of course. He was the reason her father was interested in her. And the reason he feared her, even if he didn’t realize it himself. She immediately felt her confidence return, her power over him evident in her mind.

  “I am humbled that this is so.”

  “Do you have any questions for me? Anything you require?”

  Lena thought for a moment and then said, “How is my mother?”

  The general’s face tightened. “She is well.”

  They continued to speak like this for a few moments more, in uncomfortable, forced bursts of conversation.

  She kept her gaze low, observing her father only out of the corner of her eye. Lena was intentionally carrying herself with a manner of subservience. This was uncharacteristic of her personality, but she had a keen instinct for danger.

  While the military battles might be raging thousands of miles from these mountain bunkers, this was not a safe place. It wasn’t an American attack she should fear. Lena now resided in the lion’s den. Each flag officer and each elder statesman would be posturing for future position. To them, Lena was either a pawn or an obstacle. Even to her father.

  General Chen seemed much more comfortable when speaking about himself and his achievements, which, according to him, were many and great. He also seemed interested to hear what Lena had to say about Jinshan, which she kept to a minimum.

  “Has he promised you anything?”

  Lena cocked her head. “Promised me anything? Like what, General?”

  “Title. Position?”

  “Jinshan knows that these are things I do not seek.”

  The general’s eyes narrowed. “Of course not.”

  A knock at the door. The general ignored it. He said, “Why has he summoned you here?”

  Lena kept her mask on. “I have not yet been informed of the reason.”

  Another knock at the door.

  “Come in!” the general shouted, a hint of frustration in his voice.

  The woman who had escorted Lena to her father’s office opened the door. She said, “Chairman Jinshan has requested your presence.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

  The woman said, “Yes, General. And so that I may not be misunderstood, he requests both of you be present.” She bowed and left, the door closing behind her.

  General Chen’s face grew a shade redder. Lena forced her gaze to the floor, not wanting to challenge him. She realized that while she had changed, he was the same man from her youth. His flaws were more pronounced to her now. Lena’s years of training kept her intelligence operative’s mind humming away in the background as they spoke. Documenting every word, noting every reaction.

  If General Chen were an American and Lena had come across him in the field, she would have written up a report on him later and sent it to her Chinese handlers. This hypothetical report would have said something like, Top-level PLA flag officer over-indexes in characteristics of pride, ego, arrogance. Believe subject would be susceptible to appeals to his vanity and ambition. Due to his positional authority, subject has access to broad array of information and influence. Recommend immediate development into operational asset.

  General Chen frowned. “So Jinshan has summoned both of us. Well, I suppose we shall both learn why you are here.”

  Jinshan’s quarters were much larger than General Chen’s, but still sparse by his standards. Jinshan, through skill and government connections, had made himself into a multibillion-dollar businessman. This personal journey, Lena knew, had started as a simple cover occupation when he had been a low-level MSS operative. His superiors had had no idea what he was capable of back then.

  Lena was pleased to see him. He greeted her warmly, clasping her hands in his own. “It is good to see you, Ms. Chou.” She noted that he used the name she went by now. The cover name that she had taken in the United States. She wondered how the good general felt about that.

  She offered Jinshan a respectful bow. “Thank you, Chairman Jinshan.”

  Aside from General Chen, there were two others in the room. A PLA Navy admiral by the name of Zhang, and a man that Lena knew was high up in the MSS. The group sat at a table while the MSS man updated them on the day’s findings.

  Lena observed the meeting in silence. Taking in everything. Studying the men around the table. What they said and how they said it. She guessed at their motives, and at their opinions of each other, updating and refining her views as more information came to light.

  She had been correct in her assessment. Each man was posturing. Playing not to win a war, but to earn a title, to seize dominion over the others. Her father, General Chen, seemed obsessed with the invasion of Hawaii. Admiral Zhang, head of the PLA Navy, disagreed that this was their most pressing objective. He wanted to use a new type of ship to attack Guam first, and then move on to Hawaii. But the additional step could add weeks or even months to the timetable.

  General Chen said, “The Americans will reinforce Hawaii during the next few weeks. We cannot afford to wait until—”

  Admiral Zhang said, “Admiral Song is the fleet commander. We should respect his judgment in this. As he has stated, it is imperative that US air power in the western half of the Pacific Ocean be destroyed before bringing our fleet to Hawaii. Guam’s runway has already been refurbished. If Guam is not destroyed—”

  General Chen said, “Then we can split the fleet. We have enough ships.”

  The admiral shook his head. “This is not a good plan. Our sea combat strategy…”

  “Don’t talk to me about strategy, Admiral. I am an expert in military strategy.”

  Lena glanced at Jinshan, whose face remained impassive. Like her, he was a listener.
She noticed how tired and frail he looked. There was a yellow tint to his skin. The cancer, she knew. The Central Committee members must realize that he was failing. If his health grew weak enough, they would begin thinking about what came next. When that happened, he would be in danger, if he wasn’t already.

  She now understood Jinshan’s urgency. Why they had made some moves earlier than planned. Jinshan needed to see the war through. To be sure that no one else—like her bumbling father—screwed it up.

  Admiral Zhang sighed. “We will need the Jiaolong-class ships to win any battles with American carrier groups.”

  General Chen scoffed. “The Chinese Navy should be fully capable of defeating our adversaries in battle. If you cannot lead us to victory, Admiral, perhaps we should find someone else—”

  Jinshan smiled. “That will be enough, General. I suggest that we remember who our enemies are.” He paused in thought and then turned to Lena. “Miss Chou, tell me, what would you have us do?”

  Lena ignored the disapproving eyes of her father as she said, “We must assume the Americans are already reinforcing their military capabilities at both locations. Both locations are important to them, but Guam’s proximity to China makes it unique. If Guam tumbles, our fleet will be able to traverse the Pacific towards Hawaii with impunity. But with the American airfields at Guam operational, they will be able to harass our convoys as they head west, and launch more effective attacks on our sea bases.”

  Jinshan allowed a thin smile to form on his lips. “I concur,” he said. “We will support Admiral Zhang’s recommendation to attack Guam before all else.”

  Lena could see the expression of contempt growing on her father’s face as he looked between her and Jinshan. I have made myself an enemy to my own father, she realized. So be it.

  Lena met General Chen’s gaze. This time she didn’t break her stare. He did. And she could tell that he was fuming inside.

  “General Chen…”

  The silent battle of wills was disrupted as the head of the MSS asked General Chen for input on something. The men conversed a few minutes longer. After a few final details were agreed upon by Jinshan and his military council, he dismissed them.