Flash Point

by Kenneth Andrus

  “Yes, sir. The copilot handles lockin/lockout, sensors, comms, and life support. Skipper, I can’t begin to tell you how much better this vehicle is. The stress and fatigue when we had to ride wet in the old MK VIII is eliminated.”

  Rohrbaugh couldn’t discount Vasquez’s enthusiasm and from all appearances, the ASDS was a neat piece of gear. “You’re a believer, Chief?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d trust my life on her.”

  “When can you get me a ride?”

  “I suspect you may be getting more than a ride, sir.”

  Rohrbaugh cocked his head. More? What’s that about?

  * * *

  FLEET INTELLIGENCE CENTER, COMPACFLT

  10:17

  Mackenzie checked his watch. Under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn’t have mattered if Rohrbaugh was running late, but the Ops Boss had called an unscheduled meeting to review the crisis in the Spratlys. The scuttlebutt was the situation could go critical any moment.

  He frowned and turned back to thumb through the pile of reports and background information he’d gathered on potential targets.

  Rohrbaugh drew up short when he entered the room. Prepared to share his visit to SDVT-1, he stowed the thought. “What’s up, Senior? You’ve got that look on your face that spells trouble.”

  “Nothing good, Commander. We’ve got a situation in the Spratlys. Captain Lane’s set a meeting for 1100.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  Mackenzie handed him the message folder containing Gireaux’s flash messages. “Be easier if you read these.”

  Rohrbaugh set the folder down after reading the messages and pointed to the pile of paper on Mackenzie’s desk. “What you got there?”

  “Stuff off the internet,” Mackenzie replied spreading out a pile of pictures. Commercial satellite imagery. Not too different from those our Intel guys provided, but there are some shots providing a different perspective of the Chinese installations.”

  Rohrbaugh looked over Mackenzie’s shoulder. “They don’t seem particularly threatening stuck out in the middle of the ocean like that, but we’d have to take into consideration there’s no cover for an insertion. Where are they?”

  “The first images show two structures on an atoll named Mischief Reef. It’s reported to be an observation and communication post with a garrison force of four hundred. The strategic significance is its proximity to Palawan Island and the Malampaya offshore gas fields. These are Johnson, Subi, and Fiery Cross Reefs.”

  Rohrbaugh picked up one of the photos.

  “Subi reef.”

  Mackenzie pulled a chart from the open drawer of his file cabinet and slid it across the table. “Here, Skipper, this should help. I’ve been running down anything I can find on their installations and set up a corresponding database.

  “They’ve got stuff scattered all over the damn place. Marker buoys at Sabina, First Thomas Shoal, and Pennsylvania Shoals. Installations of various sizes on Fiery Cross, Cuarteron, Johnson, Subi, and Mischief Reefs as well as Woody and Rocky Islands in the Paracels. All told, we’re looking at some one thousand troops scattered over seven islands.”

  Rohrbaugh scanned the data base. “Is there a Second Thomas Shoal?”

  “So happens, there is. The place has an interesting history. The AFP grounded one of the landing ships on the shoal back in ’99 after the Chinese occupied Mischief Reef. They’ve got a platoon of Marines living on board to establish sovereignty.”

  “Eight Marines hardly constitutes a deterrent,” Rohrbaugh said.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Skipper. The PLAN has devoted a lot of resources blockading the place. The Marines are resupplied by air-drop.”

  “Maybe ‘irritant,’ would be a better characterization.”

  “Gotta hand it to them. The didn’t roll over.”

  “Solid work, Senior. Wouldn’t be good form if we took down the wrong island.” He tapped the chart over the location of Mischief Reef. “This the site of their command and control network?”

  “I’m thinking that’d be Fiery Cross.”

  “History?”

  “The Chinese grabbed the island from Vietnam in 1988 after the PLAN blew two Vietnamese ships out of the water. Four years later the Chinese began to explore for oil in the same waters after landing troops on Da Loc Reef. Wherever the hell that is.”

  Rohrbaugh screwed up his lips. “No kidding.”

  “I’ve got more homework, but I’ve found an island called Dao Ba Loc. It has a couple names, West York and Likas could be the same place.”

  “Likas is where the Filipinos took out those Chinese patrol boats. We’re beginning to see a common thread.”

  “Everything’s in a neat package. Oil and the right of free passage through the international sea lanes. Easy to see why Washington is so spun up.”

  “Solid work, Senior.”

  “Thanks, but you’ve gotta get outa here.”

  * * *

  Rohrbaugh reappeared two hours later to find Mackenzie populating his database. “Senior, we’ve got our marching orders. We’re to flesh out 1729 and lash it up to JTF-519’s C3I structure.”

  “Anything new?”

  “Nope, nothing for us. But we’re tracking in the right direction. The JTF guys will develop the Flexible Deterrent Options once we provide them our Joint Warfare Capabilities Assessment. They’ll plug that into the CONOP.”

  “Straightforward enough.”

  “Think so? I haven’t had the time to give you the skinny from my SDVT-1 visit. First things first, though. It’s time for a couple of old dogs to learn some new tricks.”

  “Oh, Lordy. Now what are you cooking up?”

  “We’re going to pay Intel a visit and tap into the NGA. You up for a little network-centric warfare?”

  “The what?”

  “The National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency. Use to be called the National Imagery and Mapping Agency.”

  “Can’t say that helps much, Skipper. Can you tell me without having to shoot me?”

  “Senior, I just can’t help giving you a hard time.”

  “Yes sir, and I can’t help saying how much I appreciate the time and effort it must take to develop this lowly subordinate.”

  “We’re going to build this database of yours from the bottom up. The NGA can provide their imagery and analysis as-well-as precise mapping and charting, then we can send some of our people in for special recon,” Rohrbaugh said.

  “Whether we’ll have a role in Direct Action remains to be seen. Precision-guided munitions will accomplish the quick strike stuff. Our role will be working with Intel to identify specific targets.”

  “Works for me, Skipper. I’d say we could pull off the entire operation without the PLA even knowing what hit them. Suddenly their outposts are just off the air. In and out. Launching a wave of Tomahawks with those electromagnetic pulse warheads will fry their electronics and conventional warheads will take out the hard targets. Matter of fact, I’ve heard the CBV-107 Passive Attack Weapon is being redesigned to be compatible with our cruise missiles. Figure the PAW can take out the PLAN aircraft and radar on Woody Island without killing too many of their troops. Not too messy.”

  “I like your tactical mind, Mac. Fits right in with building our CONOPs around Carter and Ohio. We’ll put a straw man together for the CINC proposing a link to 1729. Be easier to secure the resources and funding lines.”

  “Roger that. I’ll start putting it together for your chop.”

  Chapter 20

  DEPARTMENT OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS

  MANILA

  13:00 MONDAY 10 MARCH

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Clarke. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” The Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Florencia Cruz, extended his hand in greeting. “It’s good of you to travel to our country on such short notice. I trust your trip went well?”

  “Thank you, sir,” Clarke responded, continuing with the pro-forma diplomatic niceties. “It’s a pleasure to be in Manila again. Secretary
Valardi asked that I pass along his best wishes.”

  “I believe you know everyone here?”

  Clarke scanned the faces in the room. “All but a few, thank you.”

  He recognized the Special Assistant to the Under Secretary, Raul Atencio, standing to one side. “Raul, good to see you again.”

  “Mr. Clarke.” Atencio didn’t extend his hand.

  Clarke turned to his host. “Shall we get started?

  “By all means.”

  Clark took his seat and poured himself a glass of water while listening to the men around the table rattle off their names and positions. An impressive assembly and presumably, all strong Montalvo allies.

  “You do not believe the actions taken by our government were of our own choosing?” opened Congressman Estrada. “They should not be considered as ...what were the words used by Secretary Valardi with our ambassador in Washington?”

  “Precipitous.”

  “The Chinese provoked us,” the Congressman continued. “They have infringed upon our rights as a sovereign nation. Would you have done anything different? We are all waiting America’s response to the downing of your P-8 reconnaissance plane, the remains of which, I need not remind you, lie wrecked on Pagasa?”

  Clarke waited until he was sure the Congressman had finished before speaking. “Congressman Estrada, are you aware we destroyed the Chinese fighter that damaged our patrol plane?”

  The AFP Deputy Chief of Staff’s eyebrows arched. “Huh?”

  “Two weeks ago, an American carrier strike group intercepted and turned back a PLAN flotilla underway in the South China Sea. This Chinese force, including troop carrying amphibious assault ships, was to seize your installation on Pagasa Atoll.”

  “Wha–”

  “General, we have chosen not to address these events in a public forum.”

  The Presidential Security Advisor responded. “Mr. Clarke, I must, too, be frank and address the possibility of a hidden agenda on your part. Do you intend to propose the reintroduction of American forces into our country?”

  “No, sir. However, there may be mutual benefit for both our countries to explore the renewal of joint military training exercises on the scale we conducted in the––”

  “I must object––,” Cruz said.

  “Please permit to continue, sir.” Clarke interrupted. “The scope of these would be predicated on bringing to fruition our current negotiations for the Status of Forces Agreement.”

  Cruz seethed with anger. “Perhaps...sir. You do understand my government will engage Beijing in discussions to promote outcomes in concert with our long-term national objectives .... Yes?”

  “That, of course, sir, is your prerogative.” Clarke replied evenly.

  Alarmed at the confrontational tone the discussions had taken, the Senator spoke. “Mr. Clarke, I have just introduced Senate Resolution 443. In doing so, I enunciated our country’s need for a strong alliance with the United States.”

  “That would be most helpful,” Clarke said while trying to figure out what was going on in the minds of the Filipinos.

  The AFP general listened with one ear to the acrimonious discussions. He cleared his throat. “But the United States cannot ignore Chinese infringement on our territorial waters.”

  “I believe our actions speak for themselves, sir.”

  “Indeed. Then you will understand we will take those measures necessary to protect our interests.”

  “Certainly.”

  “General,” Cruz said, “would you please elaborate on those measures the Department of National Defense is taking to ensure compliance with the President’s directive?”

  “Of course, sir,” the officer replied with more bravado than he felt. “We have already repositioned the Emilio Jacinto squadron and flown additional surveillance and attack aircraft to our airfields on Palawan.”

  At this point the Congressman inserted himself into the discussions. “I have before me House Resolution 944. It is titled, ‘Resolution Condemning Chinese Intrusion into The Country’s Economic Exclusion Zone, Commending The Philippine Navy And The Rest Of The Philippine Armed Forces For Gallantly Protecting Our Territorial Integrity In Connection With the Latest Incident At Scarborough Shoal And Fully Supporting President Montalvo On The Spratly Issue.’ We the —”

  Cruz reacted to the incredulous stares of the Americans. He halted the Congressman in his tracks. “Why thank you, sir. Perhaps you could provide us with the written text?”

  The General dropped his head to avoid Clarke’s eyes. Mother of God. All I have is my bare ass sticking up into the wind at the Chinese and all he can do is offer a speech? Give me something to fight with. Here I am trying to enlist the help of the Pentagon and the Department of Foreign Affairs seems to be operating off a completely different page. This isn’t what we had discussed this morning.

  Before the General could respond, the Congressman spoke. “I recommend we send our Navy after any Chinese fishing boats.”

  “And what do you propose we use to implement such a course of action? Rowboats?” the General muttered under his breath.

  Clark nodded to Crenshaw.

  “I believe we are positioned to assist your government in its present difficulties.”

  Difficulties’ might be one way to characterize an ill-advised military strike against the Chinese, Atencio thought. There may be some rationale for dragging the United States into this issue with Beijing, but we run the risk of becoming a pawn in a confrontation between two goliaths. There must be a way to extricate ourselves from this parasitic dependence on the Americans...Perhaps I can enlist the unwitting assistance of Ms. Lynne?

  * * *

  AMERICAN EMBASSY

  15:30

  The Deputy Chief of Mission opened the debrief. “How’d it go, Adrian?”

  “Brutal.”

  “That bad?”

  “I underestimated the degree of resentment remaining about our old bases at Subic and Clark. We’ve got a ways to go before we can even consider fashioning any permanent basing agreements. Fortunately, the Senator stepped up. He may well be the man we approach to broker a deal.”

  “And Cruz?”

  “He was downright obtuse. I’m not convinced the Under Secretary or his Special Assistant, Atencio, are on board with President Montalvo. I smell a rotten fish.”

  “That’s our read,” the Charge d’Affairs said. “What about the military?”

  “The General remained focused on the AFP’s requirements. It’s safe to say the military remains in our court.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” the DCM said. “From my experience, you never know who is positioning themselves for the next election or, for that matter, a coup. Based on past history, if the AFP perceives the country is not headed in the correct direction, they will take measures into their own hands.”

  “On a positive note,” Clark said, “once we got through the preliminaries, the discussions went well enough. What was your read, Jim?”

  “I concur, but I don’t believe we need to push the basing agreements,” Crenshaw said. “The path of least resistance is through the Vietnamese. Colonel, you spent the day at WESCOM, what’s your take?”

  “I’m not hopeful.”

  “What about Subic Bay?”

  “Our approach has been ‘hands off’ in keeping with the commercialization of the facilities and name change to Subic Bay Freeport.”

  “Do you think there’s any possibility of requesting limited access for our warships under a new SOFA?” Crenshaw asked.

  Clarke covered his mouth, stifling a yawn. “We’ve received some feelers from the Vietnamese on the use of our old base at Da Nang. Jim and the Colonel are on tap to meet with them during our trip to Hanoi.

  The Charge d’Affairs picked up the yawn. “Let’s call it a day. I’ve got enough to brief the Ambassador.”

  Chapter 21

  DIRECTOR NATIONAL INTELLIGENCE

  MCLEAN, VIRGINIA

  06:10 THURSDAY
13 MARCH

  Bryce Gilmore took a thoughtful pull of his Marlboro. He had started smoking them when he was twelve. Come to Marlboro country—to where the flavor is.

  The brand fit with his self-image; rugged, self-reliant, taming the West despite the fact that he had gained thirteen pounds over the past year and his chin was beginning to sag. He set down the intelligence report on the South China Sea and picked up the morning copy of the Wall Street Journal.

  He tapped the ash from his cigarette and turned the pages of the paper scanning each one in turn. The marketplace was not what held his interest this morning even though he owned several million dollars- worth of stock.

  His search stopped on page A-6. The article he searched for: an insignificant four-inch double column. He uttered a grunt of satisfaction when he finished reading.

  There were no changes or additions from the draft he had approved for release. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have objected if The Journal had seen fit to add some of their own analysis. That piece of inadvertent obfuscation would have added another layer of legitimacy to the activation of Blue Horizon.

  The story read:

  ‘Yesterday a new startup joined the ranks of offshore oil and natural gas exploration ventures intent on meeting the world’s increasing demand for petroleum products. Horizon Offshore Exploration [HOE] based out of Houston will not be listed on the NYSE or the NASDEC and there are no immediate plans for an initial public offering. Hoping to exploit the potential of undeveloped fields ringing the South China Sea, a company spokesman for HOE announced the company would soon join with PetroVietnam to begin exploratory drilling in the Con Son Basin’s White Tiger Field. An extension of the Sunda Shelf landmass that was above sea level at the peak of the Ice Age, the basin is reported to have huge deposits of crude oil.

  Engineers have said Vietnam has also renewed drilling in the Wan Bei-21 block in the Blue Dragon field approximately 200 miles off the tip of southern Vietnam. PetroVietnam’s

  General Director said—’

  “Morning, Bryce. Did you see it?” Gilmore’s Deputy Director, Ralph Cox, asked as he strode into the room.