by James Rosone
Ambassador Wang stifled a laugh. General Song had shown up at his embassy months ago, full of scorn and skepticism about what his staff had accomplished up to that point. The general had had no idea how delicate the situation was.
“General, I hope you and your staff will now have a better appreciation of what we’ve been working toward here in Cuba,” Wang admonished. Song lowered his head. “You can’t approach Cuba the same way you’ve been approaching Venezuela. If I’m not mistaken, in a few months, the first crop of Cuban pilots will be returning from China. Do you have an ETA on when the new air base and training facility on Isla de la Juventud will be completed and ready to receive their new aircraft?”
General Song sat a little straighter and seemed to brush off the ambassador’s initial criticism. “It’s coming along,” he explained. “We had to finish the port facility on the island so we could bring in the materials needed to build the airfield. In a few months, the Cubans will have relocated the population living on the island, which will reduce any unwanted attention on what we’re doing.”
“What about the cobalt mine?” Wang asked.
“It’s operational,” Song replied. “We started mining efforts last week. Right now, we’re employing two thousand locals. As the mine increases its capacity, that number will jump to five thousand. We’re working on establishing a ferry system to take the workers from their homes to the island and back.”
Wang nodded in approval. He wished he had an economic advisor handling this aspect of the operation rather than a PLA general, but he had to work with what he had. Despite the diplomatic shortcomings of his staff, his embassy had progressed at integrating Cuba into the Belt and Road Initiative.
“General, once the population has been relocated, how long until you can turn the towns and villages into the military training bases you spoke about?” Wang asked.
The Chinese planned to turn the soon-to-be-abandoned city and villages into urban warfare training facilities. They intended to modernize and train the Cuban Army and then allow the Venezuelans to use the facilities as well. The PLA would then start sending their own soldiers through the program.
“Not long, Ambassador. As soon as they’re cleared, we will begin a rapid retraining and rebuilding of the Cuban Army,” Song said. “They recently received the new small-arms weapons—now it’s a matter of getting them trained on their proper use. They were using incredibly old and antiquated Russian equipment that needed replacing decades ago.”
“What about the rest of the equipment? How soon until we start delivering the air defense weapons?” the ambassador probed.
General Song proceeded to pull a notebook out of his breast pocket. He paged through it before he responded, “We have two thousand Cuban soldiers in China right now learning how to operate, maintain, and service the HQ-9 Red Banner systems—it’s a complicated four-month training program that includes teaching them how to service the equipment and use it in a variety of environments. You have to keep in mind, Ambassador, these soldiers have previously been using outdated Russian surface-to-air systems. A lot has changed over the years. These soldiers are—how do you put it…? Not the sharpest tools in the shed. That said, we should start delivering the first two battalions in the next couple of months.”
The ambassador nodded in approval. “This is good, General. Your people have done a good job training the Cuban military should it ever come down to it. I do have one question about the aircraft. Do you really think they need or will be able to maintain this many of them?”
General Song, in a not-so-subtle rebuke, countered, “Ambassador, arming the Cubans and making sure they’re a legitimate, viable military partner is my job. Your job is to make sure their economy can support and sustain it. Perhaps we should both stick to our lanes.”
Wang snorted at the response to his question. “Do you honestly believe the Cubans need four squadrons of J-11s and five squadrons of J-10s?” he asked with a sarcastic smile. “We’re talking about a lot of aircraft for a country that isn’t involved in any military operations beyond their own borders.”
“Ambassador Wang, if China cannot have overseas bases to protect our economic interests in the Caribbean and South America, then we need to build up allies who can. You know that as well as I do. My job is to get Cuba, Venezuela, and El Salvador ready to fight the Americans if need be, and to protect our economic interests in the region. If you do your job on the political front, then my military job will not be needed. Now, if you have no further questions, I need to prepare to meet my counterparts in the Cuban military.”
Ambassador Wang dismissed General Song. The rivalries between the PLA and the Ministry of State Security ran long and deep. The two organizations, while loathing each other, were also very dependent on each other. Still, Wang didn’t like having to work with General Song. The man was abrasive and believed all of life’s problems could be solved with a gun. He failed to understand that military power was not what won wars or kept nations in line. It was money and the economy. Destroy a nation’s economy, and you destroyed their ability to wage war.
When the general left his office, Wang opened a safe next to his desk and pulled out a highly classified file, which had been personally carried to him directly from Beijing earlier this morning. He unsealed the document and opened it up:
Operation Chengdu – The strategy to take over the West
Great, another gaming strategy from that damn AI…
Wang had serious reservations about Beijing’s reliance on this new super-AI computer his bosses had been going and on about. The technologists taking over the government were convinced that artificial intelligence and machine learning were how China would surpass the rest of the world and supplant the US as the dominant superpower. From Wang’s perspective, no machine could fully understand human behavior, let alone the Americans.
Regardless of his opinions, he buried his head in the file and studied it intently for the next thirty minutes, until Wang’s aide stuck his head into the room. “Excuse me, Ambassador. The Foreign Minister is trying to reach you on the secured videophone.”
Wang stood up and went to the classified conference room. He hadn’t been expecting a call from the minister. This must be important for him to reach out directly.
Wang sat in the chair directly in front of the videophone.
“Ah, there you are, Ambassador Wang,” said Foreign Minister Han Jinping. “I am sorry to reach out to you unannounced, but I felt it was best if I told you this face-to-face, such as it is with technology.”
Wang didn’t say anything right away. He wanted to hear what was so important the Foreign Minister was speaking to him at such an ungodly hour back in Beijing.
“Wang, as you know, the CMC has been relying more and more on Jade Dragon to assist them in long-term planning. The computer has devised a plan that the President believes is both viable and something we should pursue. This morning, you should have received a classified pouch from my office. I hope you had time to briefly review what we are calling Operation Chengdu?”
Wang nodded. “I have just started looking it over. Is this something the CMC is really considering?”
There was a short pause before the Foreign Minister spoke. “Look, Wang. You and I have known each other for years. I have cautioned the President about moving forward with this plan. However, Jade Dragon has been right on so many other occasions. The generals and other members of the CMC believe the plan has a real chance of success. We may not like this plan or agree with it, but we need to do our duties and execute it.”
Wang shook his head in frustration. “I have a hard time believing that the CMC and the rest of us are taking our orders from some super-AI. I know it’s proven to be correct on many occasions, but we’re talking about instigating a war, not to mention a full-blown collapse of the global economy.”
“Wang, the computer has correctly predicted what countries we should invest in to secure oil and minerals for our growing economy. It predicted
exactly what the Americans would do in Syria, Yemen, and more recently, Iran. Right now, it’s saying that if Operation Chengdu succeeds, the American economy will collapse, throwing the country into chaos. It’s during that chaos that we will be able to establish a permanent military presence in the Caribbean and South America. I need you to work with General Song on expediting things in Cuba. We need a strong Cuba to carry out our other goals in South America.”
With nothing more to be said, the call ended. Wang had his new marching orders, whether he liked them or not. At least the timeline for this operation was still a year out. A lot could happen in that time frame, and maybe, just maybe, the AI would determine that this was not the best course of action to pursue.
Chapter Nine
Foreign Aid
Three Years Later
December 2022
Camp Tzu
Havana, Cuba
“Aren’t they beautiful?” General Song commented to his Cuban counterpart, General de División Miguel Gómez.
The mechanical creaking and cracking of tracked vehicles continued to rumble past them. The Chinese soldiers standing in the turret rendered a sharp salute to the two generals, observing them as they entered the revitalized military base.
The younger general chomped down on his cigar and nodded. “I’ll admit, General Song, I was skeptical about whether you Chinese would come through for us. It has been a long time since a world power sought to really help the people of Cuba. But true to your word, you are helping us modernize our military and economy. Heck, my little brother is working on one of those new offshore rigs your country helped us build.”
Normally, General Song might have been offended by that comment, but he knew the Russians had reneged on their commitments to the Cubans over the years. With the fall of the Soviet Union, the Cubans had become isolated as they’d stood up to the Americans.
General Song liked General Gómez. He was starting to feel like a little brother. The Cuban officer had introduced Song to his family and extended family and included him in many of their family affairs and gatherings. The two had developed a good working relationship, and Song used and exploited their friendship for the greater good of China.
“The ZBD-04 is an exceptional infantry fighting vehicle for your army. It’s perfectly suited for Cuba’s climate and terrain. Unlike the Russian BMP-3s, this vehicle is a true tank killer. Aside from the 100mm cannon, it also carries four HJ-8H antitank guided missiles. These missiles are top-of-the-line, capable of hitting ground targets as far away as six kilometers and slow, low-flying helicopters as far as four kilometers. There isn’t a tank out there it will not penetrate, including the American Abrams. When you add in the seven soldiers it can carry inside, you have a beast of a machine,” General Song explained with pride as the battalion of vehicles continued to drive onto the base.
They had arrived a few days ago in the nearby Port of Havana. The battalion was being driven through the streets of Havana by the Cuban and Chinese militaries to show their new toys off to the public, as well as celebrate their newfound friendship with the people of China.
“Here come the vehicles I’m really excited about,” commented General Gómez.
General Song replied with a lifted eyebrow, “The ZSL-08 is your favorite? It’s a regular armored personnel carrier.”
“General Song, this is Cuba,” Gómez replied with a laugh. “The biggest threat to our survival is the people around us. An armored personnel carrier with a remote-controlled gun turret is more than enough to handle that threat.”
Song reached for a lighter and relit his cigar. “You aren’t the least bit worried about the Americans?”
Gómez puffed away on his cigar for a moment as he watched the next battalion’s worth of vehicles roll into his base, then turned to look at his Chinese counterpart. “Why would we have anything to fear from the Americans? They have bigger things to worry about than us.”
“You aren’t concerned that they will want to take away your newfound wealth or economic security?” Song asked.
“If I am honest, Song, what I am more concerned with is you. Not you in particular, General, but China. We Cubans have been marginalized and isolated by the Americans since the 1960s. We are used to it. The bigger question is how will your government respond to the Americans when they demand you cut economic ties with us or lose access to the American markets? That has always been the threat the Americans level at any country that attempts to do business with Cuba. So, no, I am not worried about what the Yankees may or may not do to Cuba. I am more concerned about China abandoning us in the face of American economic threats.”
General Song puffed on his cigar a couple of times as he thought about that. Gómez had a good point. Then again, his country was in a trade war with the US, so who knew? Maybe the folks in Beijing would feel emboldened enough to challenge the US if they made that kind of economic threat.
The sound of tank tracks could be heard coming from around the corner and further down the road. The next battalion of vehicles was driving to their new home.
The vehicles heading toward them were a mixed battalion of the Chinese version of the Russian Tunguska and the Chinese-made PGZ09 anti-aircraft vehicles. The Americans typically classified these vehicles as SA-19s as the vehicles were an intermixing of anti-aircraft guns and missiles on the same platform. These vehicles were good for protecting an armored force against helicopters, low-flying aircraft, and cruise missiles.
“You know, General, I never thought the Cuban Army would ever be equipped with such modern weapons. We tried to modernize our military with the Russians for more than a decade. Back when I was a major, our Russian advisors told us they would be selling us these same Tunguska vehicles. That was more than fifteen years ago.”
General Song nodded as he listened to the Cuban talk about the failings of the Russians.
“General, I think you will discover that the Chinese are a lot more reliable as allies than the Russians. The Russians are a relic of the past. China…is the future. Your country has done well siding with us. We are, after all, still communist.”
Laughing, the Cuban slapped General Song on the shoulder as they watched the last of the armored vehicles roll past them. While they chatted and puffed away on their cigars, they heard the last mechanical sound of tank tracks approaching as the ground slowly shook.
The two of them looked on as a battalion of VT-2 main battle tanks rumbled toward them. These were the export version of the third-generation Type 96B tanks the PLA used.
In each of the turrets stood a Cuban soldier and his Chinese trainer. The forty-eight tanks along with sixty Dongfeng Mengshi 4x4 off-road vehicles constituted the last of the vehicles arriving today. Ironically, the Mengshi was a knock-off of the American Humvee.
“That’s it, then. All the vehicles have arrived, just as promised,” General Gómez said as he dropped the remains of his cigar on the ground and put it out with his boot.
“Yes, but now comes the hard part—training your men to use them effectively and then maintain them so they don’t fall apart or stay down for continued maintenance,” General Song replied with a smile. “Over the next two weeks, five thousand trainers and workers will join us. Construction teams will help you build a modern military base to service and maintain the equipment while our military trainers get your soldiers prepared to effectively use it. They will also help you establish the military schools needed to keep training future soldiers to use and maintain your new fleet of equipment. As your soldiers learn how to use their new toys, we will organize several exercises to test their skills and help them improve upon their body of knowledge.”
General Gómez smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, General. So are my men.”
*******
San Antonio de los Baños Airfield, Cuba
2661 Squadron
Colonel Enrique Jerez watched in amazement as the Chinese mechanics skillfully put the Shenyang J-11 back together. Turning wrenches wasn’t some
thing Enrique was particularly good at, so he appreciated those who were.
“It’s incredible to watch, isn’t it?” asked a heavily Chinese-accented voice from behind him.
Turning, Jerez saw his Chinese counterpart, Colonel Lang, standing there. The Chinese colonel was in command of the PLA 40th Air Brigade. He was also a seasoned pilot qualified on both the J-11 and the J-10 aircraft the Chinese had sold Cuba.
“I’m always impressed with how these aircraft are delivered. When I was a child, my grandfather regaled me with stories of the Soviet Union shipping these advanced MiGs to Cuba in shipping containers. The mechanics went to work putting them back together so they could be flown. For the longest time, I thought that was a myth.”
Chuckling at the comment, the Chinese aviator commented, “It’s only a myth until you see it with your own eyes. Unless you are the Americans, I can assure you, this is how aircraft are shipped around the world.”
“How long will it take for your mechanics to put them all together?” asked Colonel Jerez.
“These are skilled technicians. They will have the aircraft assembled within a week,” Colonel Lang explained. “That’s fine, though. We have a lot of things that still need to be sorted and made ready before we can get your pilots back into the air.”
The two of them talked about the status of the base for several days. While the two Cuban squadrons trained in China, a small army of engineers and construction workers had descended on the base. They’d extended the runway an extra six hundred feet, then added a second full-length runway and thirty additional hardened hangars.
The biggest change to the new air base was along its perimeter, where they’d built a twelve-foot perimeter fence, along with some sensors to shore up its security. The Chinese engineers and advisors had just finished building two heavily reinforced underground command-and-control bunkers on opposite ends of the base.
