by Steve Lewis
‘As you taught me, sir. The assassin’s mace. A smaller force can wound a larger enemy if it is more nimble: with its weapons or its wit.’
‘And the world will be watching. The most important weapon on this mission is the television crew. Is it on board?’
‘It is, Admiral.’
‘Make sure they get pictures of the planes taking off and landing.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Good. Heng, America’s retreat across the Pacific begins today.’
Taiwan Strait
Frank Vinson had changed into khakis. The only sign of his rank was a single silver star on his collar.
The flag bridge was a scene of ordered apprehension as senior staff monitored intelligence and kept watch over a carrier battle group that stretched across more than a hundred miles of sky and sea.
From the first deck of the ship’s island, Vinson commanded the nerve centre of the fleet.
Jane Marsh, a naval intelligence officer, traced several lines of intel on her monitor, reading it twice before reporting to Vinson. ‘Sir, the Liaoning has put to sea and is heading north. Into the Taiwan Strait. If it maintains its course, we will see her in less than five hours.’
The room fell silent around Vinson as his senior staff weighed the significance of the news.
‘That ship is hardly fit to sail.’ Marsh was incredulous. ‘All our intelligence shows it is nowhere near ready to fight.’
The news confirmed Vinson’s worst fears. His force was being drawn into a historic and extremely dangerous confrontation.
‘That ship doesn’t have to be able to fight. We’re off mainland China. There is more than enough muscle to starboard and under us to overwhelm this strike group.’
‘So why put the Liaoning to sea?’
The admiral turned to the sloping glass of the flag bridge, staring to the horizon.
‘It’s their flagship. It’s the David and Goliath image they want. China is making a statement that it is now powerful enough to stare down the world’s only superpower. If we sail on we had better be ready to fight. That could end in war. If we retreat the US will be humiliated.’
‘So what will we do?’ Marsh spoke for the group.
Vinson looked down at a screen that showed their position in the strait and weighed his options.
‘I intend to complete my mission. But no one said how fast we have to travel. Alert the group, we’re going to slow this operation right down. I hope the Liaoning commander has the sense to do the same thing. Get me PACOM. The President has to decide how he wants this to end.’
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Canberra
The Cardinals had been sent out early. Catriona Bailey’s damaged vocal cords restricted her public appearances, so the new prime minister’s chorus of allies – all promised plum ministerial jobs – was out in force.
As one they trumpeted regime change and the promise of a turnaround in Labor’s fortunes. The ‘Bailey bounce’ was already resonating with the television breakfast programs that had seized on suspect polling showing Bailey led the featureless Landry 55 to 15 per cent as preferred prime minister. The rest still liked Elizabeth Scott.
For the last twenty-four hours, the press gallery had been grinding out an endless supply of copy to feed voracious media platforms.
The federation had never witnessed such political carnage: a prime minister and Opposition leader both fed to the sharks within hours of each other.
But the drama in Canberra was dwarfed by the first flashes of a showdown in the Taiwan Strait. The world’s superpower was on a collision course with the rising titan of China.
Amid this maelstrom of news, Bruce Paxton decided he would hold a press conference.
Just a few journalists gathered in the Senate courtyard, more out of duty than interest. Several defence correspondents tagged along to see if they could snag a decent quote on China to pad out their copy.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming. As a former Defence Minister, I know better than most that defending this country is the primary job of any government. I have grave fears about Catriona Bailey’s capacity to do that job.
‘It was Ms Bailey who green-lighted the new Chinese embassy down by the lake. I now have information that shows that building is a direct threat to national security.
‘A month ago a Chinese national died as he tried to defect. Two other men have been murdered as part of a cover-up.’
Paxton’s face was glistening red.
‘I also hold grave fears for the Chinese Ambassador’s wife. She was planning to defect last night and she never made it.’
The West Australian’s defence writer, Nick Butterly, broke the stunned silence.
‘How do you know the Ambassador’s wife was planning to defect?’
‘Because, Nick, she was meant to be meeting me as part of that process.’
‘How do you know her?’
Paxton stalled. His mouth was parched. He fiddled with his tie.
‘We are . . . friends. A relationship was forged many years ago. We have warm feelings for each other.’
‘Hang on, Mr Paxton, were these “warm” feelings going on when you were Defence Minister?’ Butterly probed.
‘Yes. But we shared no more than a genuine friendship.’
Nic Stuart from the Canberra Times had never trusted Paxton.
‘Sorry, what evidence do you have that two men have been murdered?’ he asked.
‘Ms Weng told me. And I believe her.’
Stuart was sceptical. ‘That’s it? How can you back up your claim that Bailey has any link to this?’
‘Well, Nic, for that you will have to wait. I will be making a full statement to the Parliament in the next session.’
Butterly stepped in. ‘Mr Paxton, you can’t drop a bombshell like this without offering a shred of evidence. If you have anything hard, you should declare it now.’
The MP made moves to abruptly end the press conference. ‘That’s it for now. I’ll have more to say in the next few weeks. But I do call on the police and Foreign Affairs to investigate the murders at the embassy. And I plead with them to find Weng Meihui.’
As Paxton set off he was pursued by the pack, nearly tripping up a TV cameraman who was giving chase. He ignored the flurry of questions.
But as he slipped into the supposed safety of the parliamentary building, news.com’s Lanai Scarr stepped in close. ‘Mr Paxton, were you having an affair with the Chinese ambassador’s wife?’
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Washington
‘Mr President, two minutes to broadcast.’
Earle Jackson scanned the hard copy a final time. He’d already run through the autocue twice.
The US President was preparing to address the nation and every syllable had to be perfect. It was 8pm, primetime on America’s east coast. A woman dabbed powder on his face, eliminating a trace of sweat.
‘Water, sir?’
‘Please.’
His throat was dry. The reality of the fire that he’d fanned was dawning on him. But he could see no way out without a massive loss of face. He had to stare down the Chinese.
‘My fellow Americans, as I speak to you tonight the USS George Washington is on a peaceful mission in international waters in the Taiwan Strait.
‘For nearly seventy years our nation has stood guard over peace in the Pacific, allowing all to prosper.
‘America is the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world and no one will keep that light from shining.
‘The Chinese Government is moving to prevent our peaceful mission by effectively blockading the strait, a crucial trade route.
‘Make no mistake. If the George Washington is forced to turn back, then it will mark a new and dangerous chapter in world affairs. As your President, I will not allow that to happen.
‘This is not the first aggressive act by the Chinese. Since the end of last year it has been increasingly pushing the boundaries of its power. Peacefu
l nations like Japan and South Korea are in dispute with Beijing in the East China Sea. China claims Taiwan. And to its south, China demands waters owned by the Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia and Vietnam.
‘These are not the acts of a nation that claims its rise to power does not threaten global peace. If the twentieth century teaches us anything, it is that those who stand silent when the first signs of aggression appear are condemned by history.’
The word PAUSE loomed on the autocue and Jackson took a breath before emphasising the next sentence
‘The United States will not stand silent.
‘I call on President Meng to revoke China’s ill-considered air-defence zone over the Senkaku Islands and to withdraw the fishermen who are occupying the main islands with his blessing.
‘I call on him to talk to his neighbours, not bully them.
‘And I call on him to let the George Washington sail unimpeded, as a sign that China genuinely believes in the right of civilised nations to freely navigate the world’s waters.
‘Good night. God bless you and God bless America.’
Beijing
The wash of applause from three thousand carefully chosen citizens rippled through the Great Hall of the People as Meng Tao strode onto its stage.
In just four hours the Communist Party had hastily gathered this crowd as a backdrop to the President’s speech. It was another sign of the party’s control over the people.
Behind a lectern decorated with a garland of flowers and bearing China’s distinctive red-and-gold seal, Meng adjusted his glasses, coughed once, and spoke.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, friends and comrades, these are dark and dangerous hours.
‘The United States has sent a nuclear warship into waters just one hundred kilometres off the Chinese mainland.
‘I ask the world to consider how President Jackson would react if he was in my position.
‘But we do not have to guess. We know.
‘In 1963 when the Soviet Union moved to station weapons on Cuba, one hundred and forty kilometres from America, President Kennedy said this:
The 1930s taught us a clear lesson: aggressive conduct, if allowed to go unchecked and unchallenged, ultimately leads to war. This nation is opposed to war. We are also true to our word. Our unswerving objective, therefore, must be to prevent the use of these missiles against this or any other country, and to secure their withdrawal or elimination.
Our policy has been one of patience and restraint.
‘Wise words from a wise president. I agree with every one of them. We are not the aggressors here. But we will not be bullied anymore.
‘As a sign of goodwill I have ordered the Liaoning to hold its position in the south of the Taiwan Strait. It will not advance but it will not allow the American carrier to pass.
‘America now has time to consider the wisdom of its actions.
‘I call on President Jackson to order the USS George Washington to turn around and to go back the way it came.
‘Today, like President Kennedy, I am drawing a line in the water.’
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
Canberra
Two Australian flags stood regally either side of a long low desk. A row of cameras crowded a small riser. Photographers jostled for a prime position. Journalists packed into every chair and advisers lined the Blue Room, just thirty paces from the Prime Minister’s office and the exclusive preserve of the government.
It was 3.15pm. Catriona Bailey, fresh from a visit to the Governor-General, had scheduled her first press conference as the nation’s leader.
This was a make-or-break moment.
The PM had to prove that Labor was no longer a rabble but was back in business.
She had to contend with the threat of a war in the Pacific.
Above all, she had to convince a sceptical media pack that she was physically and mentally up to the job.
Flanked by Defence chief, Jack Webster, Bailey scanned the packed room, her wheelchair positioned dead centre.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s good to be back. Last night I told my colleagues that Labor could win the next election. I firmly believe, that with the right leadership, we can.
‘These are dangerous times. They demand firm resolve, a steady hand and deep experience. I am the woman for this hour.’
‘Any questions?’
Bailey was assailed by two-dozen voices. She dismissed them all with a single word: ‘Michelle.’
The press gallery doyenne opened with a question that every one of her colleagues wanted answered.
‘Prime Minister, a week ago you lay stricken in hospital. For the past eighteen months you have been kept alive by machines. Are you up to it?’
‘Michelle, I had a condition that kills most people. Almost no one recovers. I did. Am I tough? You work it out.’
Bailey’s minders had briefed journalists that the press conference would be limited to twenty minutes. All desperate for a question, they yelled and gesticulated, hoping to steamroll the other voices into silence. Bailey ignored them, and simply worked her way through a list of names.
‘Mark Simkin.’
‘PM, President Jackson has called on America’s allies to stand by its side during its standoff with China. What role will Australia play?’
Bailey was resolute.
‘War is not inevitable. Neither nation seeks war, so I believe it can be avoided. Australia does have a role to play as a creative middle power. This is what leadership is about.
‘Because of my efforts we now have a seat at the UN Security Council. I have rung Ban Ki-moon and proposed a crisis meeting. He agrees. I will be flying to New York tomorrow to chair it myself.
‘I have also called President Meng. He has warmly welcomed my intervention and invited me to Beijing for talks. Australia has a unique relationship with both the United States and China.
‘I am determined to be an instrument for peace.’
For the first time, Bailey nodded in the direction of the mute and grim-faced Chief of the Defence Force.
‘I have instructed Jack to revoke the order for a squadron of Super Hornets to be stationed in Guam. We treasure our historic alliance with the United States, but I feel that such a move at this time would be seen by the Chinese as provocative. And I’m sure President Jackson will understand.’
David Speers from Sky News called to Webster. ‘CDF, do you agree with this decision?’
Webster shifted in his seat, a click of his tongue betraying a dry mouth.
‘My job is to follow the orders of the government of the day. The Prime Minister has said the planes will not be deployed. That instruction will be followed.’
As the press conference was drawing to a close, one issue remained untouched. Karen Middleton from SBS went for the jugular.
‘Ms Bailey, Bruce Paxton has made some extraordinary claims. That the Chinese Ambassador’s wife was about to defect and has gone missing. That two Chinese nationals have been murdered. And that you, as prime minister, risked national security by allowing the new embassy to be built with only Chinese labour.’
Bailey’s disdain bled through every word of her reply.
‘I literally do not have the breath to waste on this garbage from a disgraced former member of the Labor Party. Every word is a lie. And I note he offered not a shred of evidence to support it.
‘One. The Australian Government was never approached to offer asylum to any Chinese national. Two. The Chinese embassy has issued a statement saying the Ambassador’s wife has returned to Beijing to visit family. Three. They completely deny these absurd claims of murder. And, Karen, neither the Federal Police nor Foreign Affairs say they have any concerns. Four. I did give the go-ahead for an embassy extension that had been on the books for years. And Australia has reciprocal rights in Beijing. Last, there was and is no threat to our security from the new Chinese embassy. Is there, CDF?’
Webster leaned into the microphone. ‘As you know we do not discuss matters of national se
curity. But I can confirm that Mr Paxton’s claims are utterly without foundation.’
‘And with that, folks, we have some serious work to do.’ Bailey closed down the press conference and turned her chair to the door, gliding out to the bellows of scribes and the machine-gun rattle of cameras.
‘How the fuck did this happen?’
Every word was marinated with Jack Webster’s anger. The CDF had just been reduced to a prop in a prime ministerial pantomime. But what really stung was the realisation that the fortress had been stormed. The enemy was in the castle.
Webster’s office, on the fourth floor of Defence HQ, commanded one of Canberra’s best panoramas, looking across the lake to the Parliament and the Brindabellas beyond.
He had ordered two of the nation’s most powerful bureaucrats to join him: the Secretary of Foreign Affairs and the Director-General of ASIO.
And one other. Matthew Whelan, the Director of the Defence Signals Directorate. The 44-year-old public servant had enjoyed an unblemished career. Now he carried an indelible stain.
The Star Chamber was in session.
Whelan had spent a month trying to track down the source of the worst security breach in Australia’s history. He had barely slept in the last forty-eight hours. Finally, they had identified the trail. The news was horrifying, and he feared the messenger was about to be executed.
But the awful truth could not be avoided.
‘The DSD systems have been compromised. All of them.’
Webster picked at the braid on his shoulder. ‘You said that. What I want to know is how the fuck it happened?’
‘The adversary has managed to inject a virus into our system. We’re still analysing it. But it’s the most sophisticated zero-day program we’ve ever seen.’
DFAT’s David Joyce spoke for all of the inquisitors.
‘It’s very important that you explain every detail of this. Clearly. What is a zero-day program?’
‘It exploits existing weakness in a system. Lies dormant until it is commanded to move. The moment it starts operating is zero day. In the very best of these programs the victim never knows there has been a security breach. And, as I said, this is the best we’ve ever seen.’
