Mischief Island

by Robert Lance

  Fremd said, “They stood down due to a lack of fuel. The problem is fixed.”

  “We need to find those damned nukes. How soon can we get a satellite over the area?”

  Fremd said, “I’ll give the order.”

  “Do that. Derek, you need to schedule a haircut, and buy a new suit.”

  CNN was on the air before the hour was up. Eddie Matlock had found the spin he was looking for. The parrots were babbling like magpies, and the leaks from the NSC covered a wide spectrum of opinion. What would Fox news have to say? His competitor was in the president’s pocket and would spin it like a top in his favor. He’d thump them badly by getting the opposite view in front of the American public. He sat back to watch America’s favorite news celeb, Jane Harlow.

  CNN has just received news from a reliable source close to the president that the China debacle in the South China Sea will be shuffled to the UN for resolution. The president is quoted as being irresolute and somewhat confused about the incident that has resulted in the death of nine American citizens, hundreds of Russians, Filipino, Indonesian, and Vietnamese citizens. The source reported that the president seemed above it all and casual in his remarks. It appears China will get a stern warning from the United States, despite sinking a Philippine Navy cruiser earlier in the month. The president has recalled China’s ambassador for future consultations. The Secretary of State is said to be preparing a statement and will deliver it to the Chinese ambassador on arrival.

  This clouds the president’s seeming lack of experience, diplomatic finesse, and statesmanship, which has recently been in the news. This latest report only strengthens the commentary about the fitness of the president to serve.

  We have just received word that the Russian president has broken off all diplomatic relations with China and is threatening retaliation. More than two hundred fifty of their citizens were aboard the work ferry sunk by China…

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The forward operating base of the special operations project at Palawan was into its second month. The morale of the personnel was dampened by the death of its charismatic leader. Lieutenant Commander Heather Cummins’ position was undermined by the fact that she was a field grade officer without combat experience and a woman. The question looming over her was whether she had the stamina and skill to make command decisions. She had her own doubts. Strong doubts. She needed to restore the confidence that Alamo had destroyed, and she needed help.

  She approached Domino during her watch at the Pentagon. “Domino, I need to set things straight with the intel branch, the SEALs, and the contractors—”

  “It’s not my biz.”

  “You, of anyone, know the history behind me and Alamo. He made sure I was isolated with a dubious reputation of being his whore. How many times have you seen that play out? You know what he would do to me if I didn’t screw him. You know how he stalked me. You know I divorced him.”

  “You want the truth LT? Well here it is. You should have shot him a long time ago. I know in my gut you killed him or drove someone to do it for you. Maybe Perrotte. Alamo abused you, and maybe he had it coming, but don’t act innocent with me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Every woman in the intel branch has a fantasy SEAL pounding their pussy. Ted Perrotte is your fantasy SEAL, and Alamo was mine. You don’t have any idea how angry that made me. I was jealous and frustrated. I hated you and was tempted to beat you myself.”

  “Domino, what did I ever do to you?”

  “You’re beautiful. You’re sweet, kind, and a role model. You’re too perfect, and you drove Alamo crazy. He’d talk about it—some.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  Domino was taken aback. She said nothing until Heather asked again. “Who didn’t?” Domino wiped a ribbon of water spilling from her eyelids. “A long time ago, but it was a mercy fuck and I knew it.”

  “By a long time ago, do you mean while he was married to me?”

  Domino diverted her eyes and nodded. “He loved you. He could never get it in his head that you didn’t love him. He married that bitch Beth on a rebound…to get one up on you…to show you just how much of catch you were missing out on. That backfired big time, and he blamed you for his mistake.”

  “You’re telling me something I’ve figured out a long time ago.”

  “Well you got your whore debut with Ted Perrotte, and you sure picked the wrong time. For all I know, Alamo may have shot himself, but I wasn’t there was I? Alamo is dead because of you, and we both know that.”

  “Domino, I didn’t shoot Alamo. I swear I didn’t.”

  “I know that. You’re way too smart, but that doesn’t mean someone didn’t do it for you. Watching Alamo was a Greek tragedy with a bad ending. He was like a mad dog that needed to be put down. He was fucking up the mission.”

  “That’s on me now.”

  “Sure is. You gotta deal with Perrotte, and I can tell you one thing…he thinks like I do because I saw it on his face at the funeral.”

  “I need your help Domino.”

  “Not gettin’ it from me. I’ve had time to think about that night in the grotto. It’s dawned on me that you wanted Alamo to catch you.”

  Heather assembled her support team on the pool patio. She comported herself to deal with the situation at hand. She needed to speak forcefully, without a hint of contrition. The mission needed clear thinking and the appearance of competent leadership. She scanned her audience, and saw the expectation. She addressed them. “Alamo always wanted informality, and I’ll continue the tradition. Refer to me as LT, or Heather, or Cummins, or Mata Hari. I won’t dwell on Alamo’s passing, and I’m asking you not to because we have a lot to do. The president has put a train of low orbit spy satellites over the area, giving us full coverage, day and night, of Chinese activities. The data is coming in as we speak, and it’s less than conclusive. The Chinese have masked their military hardware from SAT detection, but we have proof to the contrary. Our mission is to locate the missiles and warheads. Once we find them, we’ll disarm them.”

  An arm in the audience went up. “What is it, Master Chief Perrotte?”

  “It would be easier to steal them.”

  Her head snapped back. “Steal the war heads? We never thought about that. Steal the war heads? That’s brilliant, Ted.”

  “No. Steal the missiles. You’re making it too complicated. We can spend a month looking for launch sites and another month searching for the missiles. The Chinese will lead us right to them.”

  “Before I ask another question, we need to secure compartmental Intel. Call it, Ted.

  “I need Willer; Domino; Carole; Hartman; and the team. Everyone else gets a day at the beach.”

  After the non-essential personnel scattered, Heather smiled and said, “Ted, I’d like a private moment. We should kite fly this idea before we get in over our heads.”

  “We’re going for breakfast.”

  “Can I join you?” Heather asked.

  “No, Mata Hari. I want to be able to enjoy a good meal and keep it down.” Ted turned to walk off and waved for his men to join him.

  Heather went through the Chow line by herself. Ramon, always chatty, said. “It is good to have you as our guest, Mrs. Alamo.”

  Heather hissed. “I’m not Mrs. Alamo. Stop calling me that.”

  “Ah yes, I see. We are all mournful for your loss. We remember the good days, always. Again, my sorrow for a widow’s grief. Have you settled into your new quarters? Roberto asks, and wishes to be of help.”

  “I have. Ramon, Mr. Alamo and I divorced many years ago. Thanks for the offer, but I can manage.”

  Ramon looked confused, then seemed to understand. “Roberto has a message for you that is to be private. I will cook you Ramon’s famous omelets first.” He bowed and his chef hat thumped Heather’s nose. “Sorry Mrs.…Miss Cummins.

  “Would it be too much to ask Robert to serve my breakfast in my room?”

  Ramon bobbed his head, bumping Heather again. “So sorry M
rs.…Miss Cummins. I will send for him now.”

  Heather stepped away from the buffet and stole a glance at the SEALs. They were hunched over as though plotting her murder. It hurt her to see such open scorn. She walked away feeling maligned.

  She sat on her bed waiting for Roberto, and mulling over how she’d handle Ted later. She also knew that Roberto worked for Admiral Salinas. What message did Roberto have that required privacy?

  There was a knock on the door, and without a thought she opened the door for Roberto. She was looking at a short Filipino with a monkey jaw, furtively looking into her room. She hadn’t seen him before, and it alerted her to shut the door in his face, but he put a foot through the door and announced himself. “I’m Admiral Salinas, we’ve met before.”

  She remembered several occasions in a different environment. “Of Course. My apology, Admiral. Come in.”

  The little man looked around before entering her room. Heather closed the door behind him. He slumped into a rattan chair, and his attitude changed. “I am aware of Commander Jones’ passing, but the circumstances are troubling.”

  “He was killed in an attempted hijacking of our fuel truck.”

  “You mean my attempted hijacking?”

  “Sorry, I misheard you.”

  “Alamo arranged it before he died. He wanted plausible denial to conduct a mission on the same day China attacked Vietnam. It’s conceivable that Alamo’s intention was to mislead everyone, including me, and your White House.”

  Heather put it together. She remembered the fuel shortage message sent to the SECDEF. The fake ambush corroborated the lie. “She said, “I’m still confused. I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “Yes you do. Matters have gone from bad to worse. My government is on a war footing and has no desire to fight China alone. Your president is waffling. Alamo promised to remove the nuclear threat we are under and there is no evidence of it.”

  She had a hunch where the Admiral was headed. “There is evidence and proof. Did you not get a confirmation of our discovery of Dong Feng 21-D missile launchers on Mischief Island?”

  The little man’s eye popped. “This is the first I am hearing of it! Truly, you have proof?”

  “We do, and I will show it to you.”

  “No matter. The Philippines has no wish to press the UN resolution in our favor. If what you say is true, then the issue is moot. I’ve read the Alamo plan, and there is no reason to press forward. Without Alamo, your ambitious plan is at an end. I’m here to tell you that I’m expelling your contingent from Palawan.”

  “The president’s waffling is to give us time to discover the warheads and neutralize them. He is soft peddling China until we’ve done that.”

  “You’re wasting time. It’s been a month. You may know that China is threatening to shoot down your spy satellites. You have two days to quietly evacuate the Philippines. We do not need the embarrassment of your presence.”

  It was a now or never moment. The Alamo plan excluded the Admiral from critical details. There was always concern that Salinas would be forced to cave to pressure. She said, “Exposing the Chinese violation of its international treaties isn’t enough, Admiral. We’ve assessed that should we target and remove the nuclear sites while they are dormant, but we still run the risk of war with China. Without nukes in theatre it would be a very short war. That was the Alamo plan. The plan has changed.”

  “How so?”

  Heather had no idea what she was talking about and said, “We plan to steal them from under their nose. You need to take the tour, and meet the man in charge.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The president was livid. “So much for diplomatic pressure. The dumb bastards just shot down three of our spy satellites. Three billion dollars down the tube, and we’re blind to what’s happening out there. Jesus, three billion dollars.”

  Derek Fremd reluctantly spoke. “Alamo predicted it. They won’t yield to international legal pressure. They’ll use economic leverage to coerce Asian rim nations. They’re stopping commerce in the area as we speak.”

  The Secretary of State said, “We’ve achieved world condemnation of China and acceptance of UN Resolution 605. That’s a start, and we have wiggle room.”

  “China fired the first shot, and I’m expected to respond. Have you seen my ratings? Turn on CNN.”

  The pundits were having a field day. The president slapped his forehead and said, “Listen to this crap. They’re calling for my resignation.”

  CNN: “Well David, what’s it going to take for the president to wake up? This is an act of war. When is he going to stand his ground?”

  The president doesn’t have ground below his feet. Keep in mind the president arbitrarily canceled our neutrality agreement with China, and without prior notice, put satellites over China’s claim. I can see how the Chinese would see that as an act of war.”

  But China is causing chaos in the South China Sea. Shipping companies are rerouting commerce, because China is stopping and searching vessels at random. Insurance companies are dropping fleet insurance on any company sailing into dangerous waters. That’s an act of war.”

  “Interesting you mention that Roger. There is a photograph floating on the internet that shows a missile in flight beyond the Chinese corvette that fired on the Vietnamese oil platform. It could have come from a submarine.”

  “That post has been debunked. Suggesting it was one of ours is ludicrous. China has subs. Don’t try to go conspiracy theory, David. But I’ll go you one better. The Chinese have something to hide or they wouldn’t have shot down our satellites. I’ll admit it’s not worth risking war, but action is demanded.”

  “I don’t disagree with you. It was an amateur stunt to put satellites over the South China Sea. That goes in China’s win column.

  The president clicked off the TV and said, “See what I’m talking about. I’m getting hammered, and I don’t know how much of this I can take. Who do we have in the reception area?”

  “The ambassadors of the Philippines and Vietnam. It’s a good thing we have metal detectors. It wouldn’t take much to start a fist fight,” Secretary Holcomb said.

  Bring them in together. I don’t want my comments to be misconstrued. Put them in wing backs so they can’t see each other without breaking their necks.”

  “Sir, I should remind you the ambassador to China has also arrived,” said Holcomb.

  “Good. Good. Put Ambassador Yuan in the corner and stick a hat on him. I really want him to see the pecking order. Maybe we should throw some pistols in the room, and see who the last man standing is. No, don’t do that.” He gave an eager give-me-come-to-me signal with his hands.

  The ambassadors of both nations entered and exchanged tepid handshakes. When both men were seated, the president began, “For the sake of clarity and openness, I’ve invited both of you here to have an open dialogue. I will begin by saying that the United States recognizes UN Resolution 605, and we will unilaterally back the UNCLOS protocols. The burden of securing your rights to your claims will be observed under the UNCLOS parameters by us. We need an agreement gentlemen. We need to strike a deal. I love deals.”

  The Vietnam Ambassador, Nguyen Tan, said. “We are check-mated. We can’t afford a war with China. Mr. President, our people are demanding war. The bloodshed is just starting. Our Chinese minority are being murdered by gangs. Chinese factories are burning. We are at a flash point, but we cannot face this crisis alone. I have a sense of doom. I remind you Vietnam and America have a vital interest seeing this crisis resolved.”

  The president nodded. “We seek a peaceful resolution, but China has shown that forceful persuasion will be required. To that end, the United States is formulating a plan of action.”

  The Philippine ambassador scoffed. “You have had three satellites shot down by China. The Philippines will not engage in or sponsor any military actions. My instructions are to inform you that all U.S. military personnel will be expelled from our country.�
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  “I’ll remind you that we’ve moved our fleet from your waters, but we will not tolerate China blocking the right of passage of ships of any nation through the South China Sea. I am informing you both that we will not ask permission to take actions within your EEC.

  “China has deployed an additional sixty- four warships to patrol your waters. We will sink those ships on sight. I am taking unilateral actions, which has more to do with commerce than ownership.” He turned to the ambassador of the Philippines and said, “I need the Philippine government to delay its evacuation order for thirty days.” He then turned to the Vietnamese ambassador and said, “I’m asking the Vietnam government to remove their military vessels from the Spratly and Paracel Island groups for the same time period.”

  The Philippine ambassador chuckled. “This is how you speak to your greatest ally in Asia? You’re bluffing and using scare tactics to intimidate us.”

  The president looked at Fremd and said, “Start the slide show, Derek.” The photos of the Chinese launchers appeared on the big screen monitor. Derek narrated the presentation. “These are Dong Feng 21-D launchers that are sitting one hundred thirty miles from Palawan Island. The Dong Feng is capable of sinking an entire carrier strike force within 2,500 miles of the launch sites in your territorial waters. The sinking of your cruiser was to prevent them boarding a container ship carrying nuclear missiles. We believe China has extended its nuclear umbrella to threaten far beyond its EEC.”

  The show was compelling and both ambassadors were visibly shaken. The president struck a contemplative pose and said, “It goes without saying China has every intention of building out its military presence in your backyards. This cannot stand and I need thirty days from your governments.”

  The discussion phase was short and ended with head nods and handshakes. The president got what he wanted as he showed the two ambassadors out.

  The Chinese ambassador got iceberg glares from his counterparts as they deliberately made space as though the Chinaman was feces in a farm lot. The president tossed a smirk at the Chinaman and said, “I’ll be right with you.” He retreated to his office and slammed the door.