Stuart waited until the aide gathered his notes and exited the side door. “Bryce, you have something?”
“For argument’s sake, what if that Chinese captain acted on his own volition?
“That’s improbable. Xiao—”
Payne tapped his pen on his water glass. “This is all about oil.”
Stuart leaned forward so he could look past Valardi, whose jaw had dropped. “Say again?”
“Oil. It’s the common denominator,” Brown affirmed.
“That’s been my contention all along,” Stuart said. “What’s also driving Beijing’s response, be it Zhu’s or Xiao’s, is the off-shore wells being exploited by Hanoi and Manila.”
“Exploited? Aren’t those wells in their territorial waters?” Valardi said.
“That’s a moot point,” Gilmore said. “The PLA’s declared Hanoi’s and Manila’s actions as tantamount to theft of a Chinese natural resource and a direct threat to their sovereignty. This ties into the Chinese cyberattacks on the oil companies working with the Vietnamese and Filipinos.”
“Night Dragon?” Brown asked.
The reference of the code word for Beijing’s cyberattacks caused Stuart to look up from the notes he’d been scribing. “Bob, where are the flash points?”
“The words, ‘theft,’ ‘threat,’ and ‘sovereignty,’ are operable. If we take Taiwan off the table for the purposes of this discussion, the biggest danger lies in the Spratlys.”
“It’s also important for us to understand how the Senkaku Islands fit into the equation,” Gilmore added. “They define the northern edge of the South China Sea.”
Stuart cast a sideways glance at Valardi who was now popping open and closed the top of his fountain pen, a sure sign of distress. “Richard, do you have a handle on where the Japanese will come down?”
“Tokyo’s urged restraint.”
“So, the answer is no.”
Valardi stiffened, but Stuart didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Bryce, what else do you have that’s germane?”
“Hanoi submitted a complaint to the United Nations about PLAN ships harassing their survey ships in the Con Song oil fields.”
“This more of Xiao’s doing?”
“Don’t know,” Gilmore answered. “Perhaps their intent is to destabilize the region. It could be a rogue operation by a consortium of generals looking to line their pockets.”
Stuart rubbed his forehead. “Is this stuff connected?”
“No question. Beijing’s objective is to seize control of the South China Sea. They’ll play for time. Their classic ‘Push, then pull back’ strategy. That said, there’s no telling how they’ll react if their hand is forced.”
“Such as this confrontation with the Filipinos.”
“Exactly.”
Stuart noted Valardi set his pen on the table. “Richard?”
“A Chinese Foreign Ministry official met with our ambassador.”
“What do they want?” Gilmore prodded.
“I’m getting to that, Bryce. They want to pre-empt our involvement. They’re blaming the seizure of the fishing boat on the overzealous actions of a local district official enforcing a Fishery’s Department policy of a two-month fishing ban. The ban only applied to contested territorial waters and there was a ‘misunderstanding.’”
“Then why haven’t they released that damn fishing boat?”
“The key word is ‘contested.’ Implicit in its use is the implication the Filipino fishermen were in Chinese waters.”
Stuart sensed Valardi was back on firmer ground. “We’re sure of this?”
“Yes.”
“Have the Japanese said anything about Beijing’s position?”
“No, but this does introduce another variable. That said, I don’t feel Japan will be a player unless they’re drawn in.”
Brown shook his head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Beijing doesn’t apply some diplomatic arm twisting to keep the Japanese on the sidelines.”
Stuart drew wet circles on the mahogany table with his glass watching the water swirl up the sides. “Will Beijing remain content with just bullying?”
Payne filled in the silence that followed. “Richard, what’s the impact on our Okinawan bases and Yokosuka?”
“I can’t give you a definitive answer. We’ll need to work with the Japanese.”
Stuart let go of his glass. “What’s Defense’s view?”
“We’re reviewing our contingency plans for a low intensity conflict,” Payne said.
“You’re not implying this confrontation between Beijing and Manila can’t be contained––are you?” Valardi asked.
“Just bein’ pragmatic, Richard,” Payne replied choosing to use his southern accent.
Valardi popped off the top of his fountain pen. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of any level of conflict.”
“I share your concern. I’ve never been comfortable with the term, ‘low-intensity,’ when applied to the Spratlys,” Payne said.
“Care to elaborate?” Stuart asked.
“The history of conflict in the South China Sea has shown it to be unpredictable, of limited duration, and violent. With the notable exception of the Chinese, the claimants in the region have limited capability to project force beyond their coastal waters. What we all need to consider is the close proximity of their forces. The potential of a limited conflict providing the spark for a broader confrontation is significant.”
“Bob, you care to comment?” Stuart responded.
“It’s best to put the geography in context, sir. We’re dealing with an operational area the size of the Gulf of Mexico.”
“And not the open Pacific, which comes to mind.”
“Yes, sir. Our forward deployed assets in the region are adequate to cover any foreseeable contingency.”
“What haven’t you said?”
“We have to exercise Freedom of Navigation and increase our surveillance and intelligence activity while we sort things out.”
“Just so it’s on the table,” Gilmore said, “The Agency has been looking at a range of possibilities which could provide us a presence in the Spratlys.”
“Care to enlighten us?” Payne asked.
“I’m not prepared to offer specifics at this time.”
Finding an opening, Dan Lantis caught Stuart’s eye and tapped his watch.
Stuart took his cue. “Justin, you have anything?”
“No, sir. I believe we’ve covered the salient points.”
“Let me summarize. The actions taken by the Philippine government are well within their rights as a sovereign nation. I do not want to get dragged into this mess, but if we must, it should be under circumstances of our own choosing. I want to take every measure to support Zhu while taking those actions necessary to protect our national interests.
“Richard, make it clear to the Philippine ambassador that Manila must not take overt action against the Chinese to secure the release of their fishermen. And direct our ambassador in Beijing to request a follow-up meeting. I want to see who shows up.”
Stuart saw Valardi’s nod of affirmation, and turned to Gilmore. “Bryce, get back with me with your intelligence requirements.
“Sheldon, develop the contingency plans in case we can’t keep a lid on this mess. I’m afraid our friends in Manila may need our help. And Bob?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alert the Lincoln. Her presence may be enough to dissuade the Chinese from doing anything stupid.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Justin, I’ll need a Presidential Review Directive with the decision analysis and tasking for my signature.”
Stuart crafted his actions to set the foundation for resolving a pending crisis, but his gut told him he was already playing from behind. He chose not to voice his concerns. “Good meeting, gentlemen. Let’s get moving.”
Chapter 10
PAGASA ATOLL
SOUTH CHINA SEA
07:28 WEDNESDAY 19 FEBRUARY
> "Captain?"
Reyes looked up from the pile of messages scattered across his desk. His executive officer, Lieutenant Lenny Santos, stood in the doorway.
A little-used cot was set up in the corner of his improvised office ashore, but his fatigue was only in part from lack of sleep. A new reality had replaced the euphoria from the destruction of the Chinese navigation buoys. It was one thing to surprise the Chinese with a single audacious act. It was quite another to rescue the detained fishermen.
“Enter.”
“Good morning, Skipper. I have the readiness report.”
Reyes motioned to a rickety chair. “I never thought we’d be attempting an eighteenth-century cutting out expedition right out of the exploits of Horatio Hornblower. You are familiar with the books, yes?”
“No, sir.” Santos was accustomed to his commanding officer’s fondness of sea stories and waited for him to explain.
“Ah, well then, I have taken a page from Mr. Forester’s books to formulate the plan to rescue our fishermen. His Captain Hornblower was a bold English tactician whose tactics confounded his enemies.”
Reyes brightened at the thought of emulating one of his heroes. “What is our status?”
“The Abcede completed her reconnaissance of Likas Island and Romblon fired ranging rounds to calibrate their mortar.”
“Excellent. Have Abcede’s tanks topped off. I want her made ready for a rapid turnaround.”
“They have their orders, sir.”
“And the Emilio?”
“We’ll be ready, Captain. The crew completed gunnery practice and the Special Ops detail set up a one-kilometer course to simulate the run-in.”
“Very well, XO. I’ll be onboard in short order. You may attend to your duties.”
Reyes took a sip of stale coffee and began to shift through the pile of paper in front of him. Near the bottom of the stack he located the Western Military District’s latest intelligence report. The contents were sobering.
All indications from the PRC’s ambassador confirmed Beijing had no intent of releasing the fishermen despite communications with the Americans to the contrary. The Chinese were seeking unacceptable concessions from the government. These would entail acknowledging Beijing’s illegal occupation of Mischief Reef and their other outposts constructed in Philippine waters as legitimate.
He knew there would be no turning back. Manila’s Washington Ambassador met with Valardi and thanked the Americans for their support. He then informed Valardi that while Philippine government understood the American position, President Montalvo would do whatever was necessary to ensure the nation’s security and the safety of the detained fishermen.
He placed the intelligence report in the folder containing his other messages and set off for his ship. The C-130 was parked at its accustomed place on the grassy tarmac after delivering the photographs of the missing fishing boat to Cavite. A working party was moving cargo stacked around the loading ramp so the aircraft could make the return trip.
The transformation on the island was incredible. The old gun emplacements were being cleared and topped with camouflage netting while new ones were being constructed for the 40mm cannons the LST had delivered. Enveloped in a cloud of coral dust, a small truck loaded with munitions set off for the new bunker constructed near the center of the island. Reyes approved the moves. If the Chinese chose to attack, they would have a fight on their hands.
* * *
LIKAS ISLAND
05:30 FRIDAY 21 FEBRUARY
“Captain on the bridge.”
Reyes strode through the watertight door and joined Santos. “What’s our status, XO?”
“Likas Island is dead ahead, sir. We are making five knots. Course zero-six-zero.”
“Very well.”
Reyes turned at the sound of a crewman behind him. His communications officer delivered the message they all expected. The message read: EXECUTE
Reyes made his way to the bridge wing and frowned at the light reflecting off the waves. A figure standing to his left sensed his displeasure and stepped away.
“Excuse me, sir.”
“You’re fine, Lieutenant.”
Reyes changed his focus to a wisp of clouds beginning to cast a veil over the moon. Their approach would not be compromised.
Santos called from the bridge. “Captain. Slack tide in thirty minutes.”
“Very well.”
Reyes addressed the officer from Naval Special Warfare Group 91 positioned at his side. “Lieutenant Torres, I’d say it’s time for you to join your men.”
“If I may take my leave, sir?”
“God speed, Lieutenant.”
Reyes followed Torres onto the bridge and watched him disappear into the darkness before speaking to Santos. “XO, we are fortunate to have such men. Now it’s our time. What’s the distance to our objective?”
“Three kilometers.”
“Slow to three knots. Assume course one-two-zero. Alert the boat crew to launch the Zodiac and embark the team. When you have confirmation the raiders are underway, do a COMM check and send Torres a bearing for the lagoon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll assume our station at two kilometers. Order the Salvador Abcede to remain on station and be prepared to escort the Zodiac. Romblon should close to one kilometer in case we need her for fire support. If Torres has a hot reception, he’ll signal with a red flare.”
* * *
THE LAGOON
LIKAS ISLAND
05:45
Torres looked at his compass verifying their course. “We’ll begin our run-in in two minutes. Check your gear, clear your weapons, and click on the safeties. There will be no chambered rounds going off.”
He continued through his checklist. He tucked it in his pocket and addressed the man carrying the team’s grenade launcher. “Gunner, look to your weapon.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Gunners Mate Second Class Ramirez responded, double-checking the bandoleer of grenade rounds crossing his chest.
“Montanong, secure the engine. We’ll paddle the rest of the way.”
The raiders bent over and dug their blades into the water, gaining momentum before settling into a steady rhythm born of hours of training. Torres slipped on his night vision goggles when they neared the mouth of the lagoon and swept the anchorage. He focused on the halo of greenish light from their objective.
That’s her. Reyes’ timing was perfect. The incoming tide had swung the fishing boat around so it lay stern-on to the shore. There would be no need for time-consuming maneuvers to escape.
They made their way into the lagoon and drifted by the thick hemp anchor line angling down from the bow of the vessel. Torres let the zodiac’s momentum carry them far enough to observe the transom with the vessel’s name: GLORIA.
“Hold fast. Be alert for anyone sleeping on the deck. Maintain strict noise discipline until we crank up the engine. It won’t matter after that.”
“Boats, when you hear the engine, get out of here. Boarding team: Go, go, go!”
Torres lead the way. He threw his right leg over the gunwale and rolled onto the fishing boat’s deck landing on a sleeping fisherman. He clamped his hand over the startled man’s mouth and pointed to the Philippine flag sewn on his sleeve.
“Shush.”
The fisherman froze. Three other raiders dropped around him, deploying to either end of the pilothouse. Two of them peered around the corners of the structure and motioned to Torres they’d secured their objective.
“Where’s your captain?” Torres said.
The fisherman pointed to the pilothouse.
“How many are there?”
The man held up seven trembling fingers.
“Are you the engineer?”
The fisherman shook his head.
“I want you to get in my boat.”
The man hesitated, afraid to move.
Torres stood. “You’ll be safe. I’m going to find the others.”
The man
didn’t move.
“Mantanong.”
“Sir?”
“Help this man, then join me on the bridge. I’m going to find the captain.”
Torres slid open the pilothouse door and stepped into the cramped space. He spotted a man snoring in a hammock slung from the overhead.
“Captain?”
The sleeping form stirred.
“Captain.”
“Huh?” The man bolted upright. “What... Who––?’
“I am Lieutenant Angelo Torres. Philippine Naval Special Forces.”
“What are you doing on my boat?”
“Getting you out of here.”
“But...”
Torres lowered his weapon. “There is no time for discussion. Move your crew to my boat. You stay. I’ll need you and your engineer. My men will assist.”
“We––”
“Move it, Captain.”
The fisherman rushed off to gather up his confused crewmates and usher them over the side to join their comrades.
“Lieutenant, we’re ready to go,” a voice called from the Zodiac.
A loud splash resonated in the dark just as the raiders pushed off. Torres jerked his head toward the sound. “What the hell was that?”
Mantanong peered over the side. He lifted his palms upward accompanied by a shake of his head.
Torres addressed the captain. “We gotta go. Are you ready?”
The captain looked toward the Chinese warships.
“Once the Chinese figure out what we’re up to, things are going to get mighty exciting.”
Torres could not have anticipated just how exciting things were to become. If he had been a student of history, he might have appreciated how often the course of events of a nation or the world turned on a quirk of fate. One of those moments was unfolding.
A Chinese sailor had woken early and walked down to the narrow beach bordering the lagoon to relieve himself. He cupped his free hand over his eyes and focused on the Gloria searching for the sound of the splash. “What? What are they doing?”
The sailor stumbled up the beach trying to button his pants. “They’re escaping! The fishing boat is escaping!”
Torres reacted to the shouting. “Ramirez, you and Flores take position on the stern. Provide covering fire. Mantanong, go forward and cut the anchor line.”
Flash Point Page 6
