by Dale Brown
irritation. "The First Air Battle Wing is the new Rapid Deployment Force
air combat group, sir, " Curtis explained. "According to the current
strategic force operations plan under DEFCON Three, the First Air Battle
Wing is formed upon alert notification and deployed to one of three
locations-Loring Air Force Base in Maine, Diego Garcia in the Indian
Ocean, or Andersen on Guam. From these three operating locations, the
Air Battle Force can strike at any spot on the globe within twelve
hours."
"Who's in this Air Battle Wing?" "The wing is a collection of strike
aircraft, mostly heavy bombers-B-52s, B-1Bs, F-111G, and F-15E
bombers-plus tankers, fighters, and cargo planes, " Curtis replied. "The
Air Battle Force has its own fighter escorts, its own reconnaissance and
intelligence aircraft, and its own defense-suppression aircraft-it's a
single self-contained combat unit that can operate from remote areas
over long distances on very short notice. It-"
"Let me get this straight, " the President said, an exasperated edge in
his voice. "You want to send in two aircraft carrier battle
groups-that's over twelve thousand men if I'm not mistaken-plus two
thousand Marines, plus all these B-52s and other combat aircraft?" He
said the words "B-fifty-two" as if he were uttering a curse. "Do you
know something about this operation I don't?"
"Sir, the Joint Chiefs feel it's vital to act quickly, decisively, and
with enough firepower into the area very quickly. The carriers can't
get into the area for several days-" "Enough, General, " the President
said. "I am not going to send all those men and all that firepower into
that area without first knowing what I might get myself into. You can
understand that, right?" He did not wait for a response. "You said it
would take a couple of days to get a couple of naval units into the
area? Fine. I'll buy that. "I'll authorize two carrier battle
groups-not three-to head toward the area where the explosion was
detected. They are to take no military action unless I specifically
authorize it. Those ships are authorized to protect themselves to the
fullest extent. I'll also authorize a small patrol to investigate-no
more than three surface ships. Deploy radar aircraft as you see fit.
But I don't want any massive armada steaming off the Philippine
coast-they'll think it's a damned invasion. "As for the Air Battle
thing, that's out of the question, " the President continued. "I know
the Air Force has been trying to downplay the nuclear role of the B-52
and show the world that the mere presence of the thing doesn't
constitute the end of the world-I believe they call it
'desensitization'-but we're not going to provoke the goddamned Chinese
into a full-scale conflict. God only knows where it would lead "Yes,
sir, I understand, " Curtis replied. "And another thing, " the
President added. "I'm allowing you to deploy these two groups against
my better judgment. Frankly I'd prefer only one group. "One last
request, " Curtis added quickly. "Yes?" The President sighed. "I
realize you don't want the Air Battle Force involved yet, but I would
like permission to deploy the STRATFOR-"
"The what?" Curtis knew that the President knew what he was talking
about. "The Strategic Force. The advance team for the Air Battle Force.
I'd like to deploy them for reconnaissance operations in the area."
"And what would you do with the STRATFOR if you got it?" the President
asked warily. "We'd conduct long-range reconnaissance and probe missions
from Guam, using E-3C radar planes, RC-135 reconnaissance planes, and
EC- 135 communications planes-General Tyler of SAC has a team standing
by ready to go. The STRATFOR also takes officers and engineers from the
Air Battle Force to help set up support facilities-this is especially
important now that we have aircraft like the B-2 bomber in inventory."
The President mulled this over. "Uh huh. And then what? What'd be
next?" Curtis pressed on. "Then, if the situation warranted, and you,
of course, felt the time was appropriate, we'd deploy the First Air
Battle Wing. This is important because they'd be an integrated force of
bombers, fighters, and support aircraft to protect the naval forces and
clear a path for further operations." The President looked indecisive
and exasperated. He turned to Defense Secretary Tom Preston. "What is
it exactly that you want to do, Thomas?"
"Just what General Curtis is recommending: send in the STRATFOR to Guam.
SAC will back it up with the Pacific Tanker Task Force, which will
provide air refueling support for the deployment."
"Uh huh." The President nodded, still not entirely convinced, but
leaning toward a yes. "Oh... and, Mr. President?" General Curtis
said. "CINCSAC is recommending, and I agree, for Major General Richard
Stone to be the STRATFOR commander-he's an ex-SAC division commander and
was the former base commander at Clark. He knows the Philippines like
the back of his hand. General Stone will make his recommendations to
Pacific Air Forces and Pacific Command on the type of response neces
sary and they make recommendations to you. Once approval is granted
from you through Pacific Command, the STRATFOR will form the Air Battle
Force." The President paused for a few moments, then nodded his head.
"All right, General-I have my doubts, but let's do it. Send in the two
carrier groups only, put the Marines on standby, and send out the
STRATFOR to Guam to help check things out. We'll wait on whether to
send your Air Battle Force until we find out what in hell the Chinese
are up to. Got all that?"
"Yes, sir, I understand, " Curtis replied, and quickly added, "There are
a few more items-" President Lloyd Taylor had had enough, but he said,
"Yes, General, make it quick..."
"CINCPAC has requested an increased 'safe zone' around his fleet assets
in the region . "Sink~ho?"
"Sorry, sir... Admiral Stoval. Commander in Chief, Pacific Forces.
He'll be in overall charge of operations in the South China Sea; he is
asking permission to order the fleet that is sent down there to engage
unidentified or hostile vessels or aircraft out to a range of two
hundred miles instead of the usual one hundred miles."
"Why does he need that?" President Taylor grumbled. "Sir, if it was a
Fei Lung-9 missile that was launched from a Chinese ship, the missile
has a range in excess of one hundred miles and is supersonic, which
makes the task of shooting it down very difficult. With a nuclear
warhead, the kill radius of the missile is that much greater. The
commanders in the area will want to keep all unidentified aircraft as
far away as possible from their ships and to provide air cover for the
reconnaissance planes, " Curtis said. "They all operate no closer than
two hundred miles from Philippine waters... "Air cover? I said no air
operations!" the President snapped. "This would be for the STRATFOR
reconnaissance jets, sir, " Curtis explained. "Those jets-the AWACS,
the EC-135, and the RC-135 are unarmed recon planes. We
have to provide
air cover for them if they're operating so close to the Chinese forces
"I thou, ght you said this would be a simple operation, General. "Sir,
for safety's sake, each STRATFOR aircraft should have a minimum of eight
fighters with it at all times. "Eight fighters!" the President
exploded. "And how many aircraft will you send from the STRATFOR?"
"Four, sir, " Curtis replied. "You want thirty-six aircraft involved in
a 'simple' reconnaissance mission? That's out of the question. If I
saw that many planes near my ships, I know I'd be angry. Good God, man,
don't you get it? I'm trying to avoid a fucking war! We're sending in
all this force and we don't even know what the hell is going on!"
"Our aircraft need that kind of protection "Do it with less, " the
President ordered. "If you can't protect the reconnaissance aircraft
with two fighters each, you can't send them in-we'll rely on satellite
data to gather intelligence information instead." Curtis paused for a
moment, then said, "I'll confer with General Falmouth..."
"Yes, yes, fine, " the President said, waving his hand as if dismissing
a bothersome insect. "Do what you want, just make sure you cover those
planes with two jets each. I don't care how you do it."
"Of course, sir." "And, Curtis?" the President added, pointing his
index finger at the General. "If this thing blows up in our face... if
this puts my ass in a sling? Guess what? Your ass is going to be in a
sling." And with that, Curtis was dismissed. Other aides and staffers
were already being buzzed into the Situation Room before Curtis reached
the door. Curtis' aide, Colonel Andrew Wyatt, met the Chairman of the
Joint Chiefs of Staff in the corridor next to the Marines guard desk. He
fell in beside Curtis as they headed for the elevator. "Well, how'd it
go?"
"Don't ask, " Curtis said as Wyatt punched the elevator call button.
"That bad?" Wyatt asked. Curtis said nothing. Instead he was too busy
thinking about what was going on halfway around the world. ...
BUENAVISTA HOSPITAL, ULUGAN BAY, PALAWAN PROVINCE THE PHILIPPINES
MONDAY, 26 SEPTEMBER 1994, 2109 HOURS LOCAL Admiral Yin Po L'un awoke to
find himself lying on a very soft bed under clean white sheets. Through
blurred eyes, he saw several nurses-Filipino nurses, he soon
realized-surrounding his bed. One of them, after realizing that he was
awake, ran off out of sight. "Who... who are you?" Yin asked in
Chinese. The nurses looked at each other, then turned back toward him
and shook their heads, replying something in English that obviously
meant they did not understand him. But a nurse bent forward to wipe
sweat and mucus from his face and eyes, and he was able to see -several
Filipino soldiers marching into the room, with M- 16 rifles slung on
their shoulders. So. He was a prisoner of the wretched Philippine
Army, or worse, the damned Americans. Even though he saw no
American-looking faces, he assumed he would be turned over to them soon.
Presently, a physician in a white lab coat appeared before him, along
with, to his great surprise, the senior ship's doctor from the Hong
Lung, a Vietnamese immigrant named Commander Tran Phu Ko. Finally, a man
who appeared to be an officer stood at the foot of the bed, bowing
slightly at the neck when he noticed Yin looking at him. Commander Tran
bowed to Admiral Yin. "Thank the gods you are well, Comrade Admiral."
Yin struggled to rise to a sitting position, and Tran helped him.
"Report, Doctor. Who are these men? What is the status of the ship?
What of the crew?"
"The men are well, Admiral, " Tran replied. "Many casual ties, but we
can speak of that later. The ship is damaged but safe. It is secured
in Ulugan Bay, not far from here. Several other ships of our task force
are there as well." Ulugan Bay. Palawan Province, the Philippines. So
they were prisoners. . Tran motioned toward the officer at the foot of
the bed. "This is General Robert Munoz di Silva, commander of the
provincial defense force, " he said. "He is our . . . host. He
speaks no Chinese. I know English, sir; I can interpret for you."
"Ask him then if we are his prisoners, " Yin said, "and what sort of
treatment my crew and myself can expect from them." Tran looked puzzled,
then relieved. "No, sir, you do not understand..."
"Ask him, " Yin ordered. Tran was about to speak once again, but, at a
stern glance from Yin, bowed and relayed the question in broken,
hesitant English. But obviously General di Silva understood, because
the pig-faced bastard threw back his head and laughed out loud, right in
Admiral Yin's face! Then, to Yin's complete surprise, the Philippine
General walked over to Yin and kissed him on both cheeks! Yin stared at
the man, flabbergasted, while General di Silva babbled on
enthusiastically about something or other. Yin shook his head warily.
They must have given him morphine. Or worse. Something was wrong here.
Dr. Tran read his thoughts: "You do not understand, Comrade Admiral. We
are not prisoners of General di Silva-we are their liberators and
allies."
"What?" Yin asked, sitting up straight. "What are you saying? Their
liberators? But-"
"According to General di Silva, he no longer considers his force to be
part of the Philippine military, " Tran said. "He and his men have been
secretly opposed to the capitalist proAmerican government in Manila for
over forty years. They've been waiting for such an opportunity to
strike out at the puppet of the Americans. He is asking for our help in
supporting his movement and assisting him and his fellow Communists in
severing ties with the rest of the Philippines and establishing a
pro-Communist state here on Palawan." With that, they watched in
complete surprise as di Silva stripped off his blue and gold epaulets of
the Philippine Integrated National Police and tossed them over his
shoulder. A few of the nurses and doctors who had filled the room
looked ashen at the demonstration, but most of the others were smiling
broadly, some even applauding. But Admiral Yin couldn't believe his
eyes. Although he knew a potential enemy would go to extreme lengths to
confuse a prisoner into cooperating or giving up information, this di
Silva seemed sincere. Could they have drugged him? Was this all some
kind of grand hoax . . . ? "Doctor, ask him what is happening. Ask
him if we have been drugged. Tell him I wish to be released immediately
and reunited with my crew." Commander Tran had to raise his voice a bit
over the impromptu celebration there in the room, but eventually he
communicated the Admiral's question and received a reply: "Sir, he says
he is empowered to release all of us and our vessels if we so desire, "
the physician translated, "but he wishes to say that the revolution has
begun and that you are the catalyst for constructive change in Palawan,
and perhaps all the Philippines, for all true Communists. He is
prepared to offer us protection until we are well enough to function,
then he pledges that his loyal forces will rally behind us to
free
Palawan and create a powerful, respected Communist nation." Di Silva
spoke again, and Tran added, "General di Silva is putting you in command
of his provincial defense force, sir. You may order him and his men to
do as you please. But he asks that you accept the challenge. It would
be a dishonor for you and the Republic of China not to... Admiral Yin Po
L'un's head was reeling in confusion. This... this was too strange. It
had to be a trick of some kind. But what? This charade was different
than any other kind of interrogation or con scheme he'd ever heard of-it
didn't make sense. At least to him. A foreign militia commander laying
down his weapons before a prisoner, then asking the prisoner to take
over? It was absurd. Yin sat back in the bed, trying to absorb it all.
Maybe they had given him drugs and weren't admitting to it. But what
would be the purpose of this. . . acting? For a moment everyone in the
room simply stared at him. As if waiting for his word... He wanted to
shake his head, to think clearly. And yet he was thinking clearly. And
this proposition was bizarre. He took a deep breath. His head hurt,
but otherwise he seemed fine. Maybe a bruise or two, but nothing seemed
seriously out of joint or injured. So if he was okay. Then was this
real? What if it was? This di Silva character didn't look
insane-perhaps he was who he said he was, and he really meant what he
said. If so... what an opportunity! To occupy a strategic province of
the Philippines without firing a shot-the horrible effects of the
nuclear detonation notwithstanding-was the decadeslong goal of the
People's Republic of China. It was even better if the Chinese were
invited to occupy the islands! It would forever end the domination of
the United States in the Pacific; China would have complete strategic
control of the South China Sea and most of the eastern Pacific. The
Russians, the Japanese, the Indonesians, the Vietnamese, even the
Americans-they would all have to step aside. And Admiral Yin Po L'un
would be a hero. But it was crazy. Absolutely crazy. This popinjay who
