Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06

by Fatal Terrain (v1. 1)

  “What kind of patrol plane was that on the news, Mr. President?” Finegold asked. “On the news, it looked like a B-52 bomber.”

  “It was a new, experimental class of long-range patrol and attack aircraft, based on the B-52 but with some modern enhancements,” the President replied. “Its actions were totally defensive in nature, occurring only after one of our frigates was hit.”

  “Have you spoken with China yet, Mr. President? What are they saying about all this?”

  “I have, and the Chinese are apologizing for their rash actions,” the President replied. “Of course, they’re blaming everything on preemptive attacks by Taiwan, an allegation that we have not yet confirmed.”

  “A Chinese aircraft carrier and a military base were attacked—if we didn’t do it, then who else could have done it except Taiwan?” Finegold asked. “They got the submarine that attacked the carrier, and they shot down a bomber overflying their military site. I think that’s pretty compelling evidence, don’t you, Mr. President?”

  “Do you want to take China’s word for all that’s happened, or would you like some independent confirmation first, Senator?” the President asked heatedly. Jerrod waved his hands palm-down at the President, reminding him to “take it easy.”

  “I see lots of innocent civilians killed and hurt on CNN, Mr. President,” Finegold said testily. “Are you saying that all this is a fake, a fabrication by China? If it is, it’s pretty good work.”

  “What I’m saying is, we don’t have independent confirmation of anything right now. ”

  “I’d like a joint congressional task force to go out there to look for themselves,” Finegold said. “Can we count on Pentagon travel support?”

  “Of course. Military, common carrier, whatever’s available.”

  “We’d like to see that patrol plane first,” Finegold said. “We’d like to talk to the crews, interview the commander, get some details.”

  The President hesitated, and he could feel the tension building. “That may not be possible, Senator,” he responded. “They’re still on patrol, assisting in recovery efforts. I’ve ordered the plane brought back to the States after they finish their patrol—that might be the best place to look at it and talk to the crews.”

  “I was hoping to do it sooner rather than later, Mr. President,” Fine- gold said. “My staff tells me the bombers are based out of Guam—if that’s correct, perhaps we could see them on our way out to talk with representatives of the Japanese, Taiwanese, and Chinese governments.”

  The President subdued an exasperated sigh. Finegold knew too much detailed information, details she could only get through direct communication with very high-ranking sources. He had hoped that Hale would be wrong about George Balboa squawking to Finegold, but it seemed more and more likely now.

  “Very well, Senator. I’ll see to it they’re made available to you or your staffers,” the President said. “But I caution you that the President is still the nation’s diplomat. Although I certainly grant that members of Congress can visit and meet with any foreign leaders they choose, it is the President who makes foreign policy, negotiates treaties, and deals with matters of state. You carry much influence around the world, Senator Finegold, and your visit might be confused by foreign leaders as an official government communication.”

  “We will make our intentions and the purpose of our visit crystal clear, Mr. President,” Finegold said testily, adding, “but I thank you for the civics lesson.” The temperature of the Oval Office turned decidedly cooler just then. “May I ask what response you intend to initiate in the wake of these so-called Chinese attacks, made to look like Taiwanese attacks? Will you retaliate against China?”

  “I intend to rescue as many survivors as I can from the disaster in the Formosa Strait,” the President said, “and then I intend to bring our ships and soldiers safely home. After that, I haven’t decided. But I do not intend to break diplomatic relations with China or mount any sort of retaliation.”

  “That’s good to hear, Mr. President,” Finegold said. “And I hope you’d be so kind as to consult with Congress before initiating any economic or military sanctions against China.”

  “Of course, if the opportunity presents itself,” the President replied. “Thank you for calling, Senator. Good night.” He hung up the phone before she could ask another question. “The nerve of that witch! ” he said half aloud. “Instructing me on my duties and responsibilities to Congress!

  “You’ve got to be careful, Kevin,” Jerrod Hale said. “Don’t go to the mat with her over the phone—you don’t know who’s listening. If you want to chew her out or tell her where to stuff her suggestions, get her out here to the White House and then let her have it. Make her get dressed and haul her tight narrow Nob Hill butt outside. You can then bring several members of the House leadership over so you have a nice big audience to watch her squirm.”

  “Thanks, Jer. I know all this—I just need reminding, when the pressure’s on,” the President said. “All right. I want a shot-up, stripped- down Megafortress on Guam to show the senator—and I want all the rest of them off the island and into hiding or chopped up into confetti as soon as possible. Get on it.”

  OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT, BEIJING, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA FRIDAY, 20 JUNE 1997, 0917 HOURS LOCAL (THURSDAY, 19 JUNE 1997, 1817 HOURS ET)

  “Under ordinary circumstances, Admiral Sun Ji Guoming, I would be most inclined to offer you congratulations for a job well done,” Chinese president Jiang Zemin said coldly. Standing beside him was chief of staff of the People’s Liberation Army, General Chin Po Zihong. “But I cannot do so. Admiral, you told me that you could bring down the entire proWestern alliance, enabling us to merely walk onto the Nationalist-held islands without resistance. I have not seen this happen yet. What I have seen is dozens of deaths of our comrades near Hong Kong and our new carrier severely damaged by our own hands, nearly a hundred deaths from the ferry attack near Quemoy, nearly a dozen of our fighters shot down by the Nationalists without one loss of their own—and, worst of all, our ambassador in Washington apologizing to the President of the United States and to the world on the floor of the United Nations for our actions! ”

  “You must have patience, Comrade President,” Admiral Sun replied. “Allow me to summarize our recent achievements.” Jiang nodded, and Sun went on: “The United States has removed two of its four warships from the Formosa Strait, and its submarines have been pulled back even farther from our ships and bases. The stealth bombers that the Americans sent to spy on us and assist the rebels to attack us have been discredited, exposed as aggressors, and soon will be completely removed from the region. The President of the United States has been exposed and labeled an aggressor, almost on a par with Saddam Hussein or Mo- hammar Quaddafi. He is being investigated for ordering the stealth bombers to attack Iran, and now he will be investigated for his secret undeclared warlike actions against us in the Formosa Strait, using the formerly secret modified B-52 bombers. His own people fear and distrust him—soon, his allies all over the world will fear and distrust him as well.

  “More importantly, now the United States and the Nationalists have been isolated by the world community—the world sees them both as warmongers, willing to do anything to further their own aims,” Sun went on. “President Martindale will find considerable difficulty in getting support from his congress for his plans to support the Nationalists’ drive for independence. If we maintain the pressure and continue to open up in front of the world media, the momentum will swing to our side. Then Martindale may be forced to support our idea for reunification with Taiwan by 2005. With Taiwan once again isolated, even from the United States, it will be ready for annexation at any time.”

  “That all sounds fine, Admiral,” General Chin said. “But we must still deal with the military realities here. The United States is withdrawing two frigates, but with two frigates and four submarines still in the area, they are still a very strong military force in the Strait—and we lost a g
ood percentage of our fighters and bombers in that engagement.”

  “It is as I have said, General,” Admiral Sun said. “Our J-series fighters must not engage Nationalist F-16 fighters unless they have full radar coverage and enjoy at least a six-to-one numerical advantage. In that fight, we had a three-to-one advantage and fared poorly. We also did not count on the American stealth bombers launching air-to-air missiles. The H-6 bombers would have had better success if they had only flown against the frigates’ surface-to-air missiles or if the Nationalists had been forced to divide their fighters to chase after our bombers.”

  “Nonetheless, our losses were severe and swift,” General Chin said. “I find it impossible to imagine that this plan of yours can still be accomplished when we lose forces to the Americans like this.”

  “In fact, this proves the truth of my plan, General,” Sun argued. “Again we have shown that the Americans are difficult to defeat in a direct naval engagement, whether by air or sea. But the unorthodox attack on the Americans proved successful—we claimed two American Navy frigates, and we leave the Nationalists and the Americans confused and reluctant fighters in the Strait. The tide is beginning to turn for us, Comrade General.”

  “You claimed that you could draw the American carriers into the Strait, where they would be vulnerable—yet the closest American carrier, the Independence, is apparently ready to depart Japan, possibly to rendezvous with two other carriers somewhere near Formosa, possibly in the Strait itself,” Chin observed. “They can still strike our coastal bases from their carriers, and still enjoy air protection from the rebel air forces on Taiwan.”

  “The Independence will never depart Japan, comrade,” Admiral Sun said grimly. “Its death is already being planned—and with it, the death of the pro-Western Asian alliance as well.”

  “I think it is about time you informed us of what you intend to do, Admiral Sun,” Chin said angrily. “It is obvious that the level of aggression has greatly escalated. If you intend on throwing China into general war with the West, be so kind as to let me know so I can alert our regular military forces and defend the motherland.”

  “It will not be necessary to mobilize the army, Comrade General,” Sun said with a smile. “The biggest naval disaster since the Great War will occur, by our hands—and the world will be rushing to China’s aid, to protect us against the great satan, the United States of America.”

  ANDERSEN AIR FORCE BASE, GUAM

  THURSDAY, 19 JUNE 1997, 1444 HOURS LOCAL (WEDNESDAY, 18 JUNE, 2344 HOURS ET)

  “Do you realize what’s happening?” Admiral George Balboa exploded. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was seated at the conference table in the Joint Chiefs Conference Center at the Pentagon, but his voice was as sharp and as clear as if he were right there in the base command post’s battle staff room on Guam. “Have you seen the news? That plane of yours is being shown on TV all over the damned world, along with pictures of your attack on that passenger ferry.”

  “We’ve seen it, Admiral,” Patrick McLanahan said. He, Brad Elliott, and the rest of the crew of the EB-52 Megafortress involved in the recent skirmish in the Formosa Strait near Quemoy Island were participating in the secure videoconference between the Pentagon and Andersen Air Force Base on Guam. The base command post’s battle staff room had been sealed and curtained off, with guards posted outside. To Patrick McLanahan, it was a little like closing the barn door after all the horses had run away. The world now knew of the EB-52 Megafortress— why all the security now? “The pictures of us were obviously taken by the MiG-25 Foxbats that intercepted us.”

  “What possible explanation can you offer the President for what you’ve done?” Balboa asked.

  “The Chinese set us up,” McLanahan said confidently. “We’ve compared notes with the crew aboard the James Daniel, and we agree—that ferry was altered to make it look like a warship.”

  “How in hell could they do that?”

  “By towing that barge behind them,” McLanahan replied, “they made themselves look another one hundred and fifty feet longer.”

  “They were towing a garbage barge, for Christ’s sake!” Balboa retorted. “Thousands of those barges are being towed around the Strait every week, and no one’s mistaken them for warships before! ”

  “A garbage barge with steel radar-reflective walls, being towed on a short rope very close to the ferry—and the barge was fitted with an IFF interrogator,” McLanahan reminded him. “It was sending out identification interrogation signals just like a warship. Why would a civilian vessel have a Square Head IFF on board?”

  “That’s such a lame excuse, McLanahan, that I’m embarrassed for you for making it,” Balboa said. “An aviator with your reputation making wild accusations like that to cover up your own mistakes—it’s pretty sad. You obviously picked up a signal from someone else, or you mistook a standard marine nav radar for an IFF.

  “But even if it was an IFF, as you claim, why in hell did you attack that ferry?” Balboa asked. “Even if that ferry really was a Chinese cruiser—and you geniuses should know China doesn’t own any cruisers—you didn’t have permission for any weapon releases, let alone those Striker rocket bombs. Why did you open fire?”

  “As we explained in our report, Admiral, the Navy frigates were under attack by rocket-powered torpedoes,” McLanahan said. “We have no defenses against torpedoes—our decoys or jammers wouldn’t have done any good. All our sensors indicated that a Chinese warship had launched numerous Stallion torpedoes at the frigates. The Duncan was a sitting duck for another salvo. We had no choice but to return fire.”

  “Even though you didn’t have permission, even though you were not given a command.”

  “I had permission to launch,” Jeff Denton interjected.

  “What was that?” Balboa asked. McLanahan turned away from the videoconference camera and glared at Denton to remain quiet. “What did you say, Captain Denton?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Repeat what you said, Captain, or I’ll have you arrested and thrown in the brig right now. ”

  Denton looked at Elliott, then at McLanahan, who wore expressionless faces now—the bell could not be unrung. “Sir, the frigates were under attack.”

  “Who ordered you to launch, Captain?”

  Denton paused, then lowered his eyes. “General Elliott,” he said in a low voice.

  “Repeat that last?”

  “General Elliott,” Denton blurted out. “Sir, we were under attack by what we thought was a Chinese cruiser, by four formations of Chinese fighters, and then by Foxbat fighters. I was in the OSO’s seat—I controlled the Strikers.”

  “But it was Elliott who ordered you to launch, correct?”

  “The Duncan was dead in the water, and the other frigate was coming about to help it,” Denton said excitedly. “Our guys were going to get plastered. I knew we had to do something. So when General Elliott ordered me to attack the cruiser, I did. The computer said it was a cruiser, Admiral. The computer was running good.”

  “That’s enough, Captain,” Balboa said. “That’s enough—to file charges in federal court against General Elliott for criminal misconduct. Maybe even murder in the second degree.”

  “What?” McLanahan shouted. “You’ve got to be joking, Admiral!”

  “You think that’s funny, Mr. McLanahan? This is even better—I’m going to file charges against you for the same thing. You were the mission commander, and even though you had Denton in the seat, you were responsible for his actions. And because Cheshire, Atkins, Bruno, and Denton are all active-duty officers, I’m preferring charges against them under the Uniform Code of Military Justice for disobeying a direct order, for conduct unbecoming an officer, and for dereliction of duty.”

  “George, I was expecting you’d try to get me thrown into jail,” Brad Elliott said with amazing calm, “but to threaten any of these other outstanding individuals with a crime is beyond ridiculous—it’s psychotic
. If you carry through with this stupid idea, you’re the worst example of a leader that has ever worn a uniform.”

  “I believe that honor has already fallen to you, Elliott,” Balboa said. “And I’m not through yet. Because of your illegal, criminal actions, the entire Sky Masters, Inc.’s, Megafortress project has been compromised, and it now falls upon the government to clean up the mess. As employees, officers, directors, and shareholders of the company, yours and Mr. McLanahan’s actions have implicated Sky Masters, Inc., in your criminal activities as well. You can kiss any idea of a military service contract good-bye, I’ll see to that. How would it look to reward a company that started a nuclear exchange and killed hundreds of civilians with a multimillion-dollar defense contract?”

  “George, the only persons you’re going to harm are those who believe in things like performance, value, integrity, and honesty,” Elliott said. “Obviously, you don’t believe in anything like that. Our hardware and our people did a good job. You shouldn’t punish a good company because you want to make my life miserable.”

  “Fortunately, it’s all tied together, Elliott,” Balboa said. “I get to shit- can you and your friends all at once—and you brought it all on yourself. All you had to do was obey orders and stay out of the fighting, but you didn’t, and now I’ve been ordered to make sure that you don’t screw up again. Here are your new orders, folks, and if you disobey them, you will find yourself in prison and your company shut down, buried in tax liens so deep you’ll need a bulldozer to get out from under them:

  “Unfortunately, since you are the only ones who know how to fly those things you’ve been screwing with, I can’t confine you in the custody of federal marshals until you return to the States. Within three days, you are to make repairs to your aircraft sufficient to make them airworthy, and then you will return all of the aircraft leased from the government directly to the Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Center at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Tucson, Arizona—the Boneyard.”