Burkmeister leaned back in awe, processing what he had just heard. It’s amazing, he thought, how small the world has become; how an isolated incident like this, occurring in a far-off ocean in the wee hours of the morning, could erupt into a global-news headline story only hours after it happened.
“Admiral,” he said, “any idea what might have precipitated the incident?”
“It’s hard to say, Mr. President, but the Sino-Japanese conflict in the East China Sea has been a work in progress for many years. Many of us felt it was only a matter of time before their issues erupted into a shooting war.”
“Please remind me, Admiral, of the ‘issues’ with bearing on the current situation.”
“As you are aware, Mr. President, Japan and China have argued for decades over the delineation of their respective exclusive economic zones. The Law of the Seas doctrine, as set out by the UN, sets the boundary of a nation’s EEZ at two hundred nautical miles away from their baseline. Problem is, Japan considers its baseline to be its coast, while China considered its baseline to be the continental shelf, which adds significantly to the amount of territory it can claim. However, even if they agreed on baseline definitions, they would still have a problem: since the East China Sea is only about 360 nautical miles wide, there’s an overlap of about forty miles of disputed area that consists of about forty thousand square kilometers of contested ocean. Now, here’s the real kicker: the epicenter of the contested area is located in the Chunxiao region—an area containing a huge oil/gas reservoir that lies between 3,300 and 6,500 feet below the surface along a 620-mile-long trough. The fields have an estimated reserve potential in the area of eighteen billion barrels of oil and 360 billion cubic feet of natural gas. I don’t need to tell you how strategically important this is to both countries. Parenthetically, the EEZ question is not unique to the East China Sea. We have a similar issue brewing now in the Arctic region regarding ownership of mineral rights for resources exposed by the disappearing ice caps.”
He stopped his presentation for a moment as an aide approached the president and whispered something in his ear. The president nodded and waved the aide off, saying, “Go ahead, Admiral, please continue your briefing.”
“The Chinese recognized the potential of this find early on and in 2006 set up what was known as the Chunxiao gas platform, about four kilometers from the EEZ median line. Both nations grudgingly accepted the EEZ line even as they contested it. Japan claimed the platform was extracting gas from deposits under the Japanese EEZ and requested a geologic audit. The Chinese said no dice. The Japanese then sent in their own geologic ship to take surveys, and the Chinese quickly sent a couple of warships out to discourage them. The Japanese geologic ship pulled out, but later the Japanese positioned their own oil platforms and drilling ships about ten kilometers inside their side of the EEZ. This didn’t please the Chinese, but what could they say when their rigs were far closer to the EEZ median line than Japan’s?”
“About one month ago, the Chinese floated into place a massive new sixth-generation oil platform known as Dragon II. It is the beast of all platforms, built in the Cosco Shipyard in Shanghai, and it was to be China’s showcase platform, designed to attract markets for deepwater platform leasing all over the world. Problem is they moved it into a position that was far closer to the contested median line than ever before—roughly two kilometers. The Japanese were furious and had planned to make it an issue at the UN Security Council.”
The president looked up from the notes he was taking and said, “Let me summarize what I think you just said, Admiral: two great nations in dire need of oil and gas—like all of us—have escalated their concerns into a shooting war over a disputed border that lies a mile under the ocean. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s about right, Mr. President. We don’t know the full extent of the damages yet, nor do we have a feel for whether one or both sides will escalate this into a larger war. I expect information on potential developments within the next twelve to twenty-four hours, but for now I just don’t know.”
The heated discussion that followed revolved around a number of what-if scenarios. The president found it useful, but he still had no clear idea of how to respond to the calls he expected to receive from leaders of both countries. When he broached that issue, he triggered yet another testy discussion as to what each of the two sides would ask of the United States.
“Folks,” Burkmeister said, “I truly appreciate your insights. It’s clear that we don’t know where either country will go from here—at least for now. Nothing we can do about that. About all we can do for now is upgrade the alert level of our military forces, continue collecting every possible scrap of intel we can, and be prepared for whatever deals Japan and China will attempt to make.” Looking down on his notes, he said, “Let me recap what we’ve got so far. Japan will probably appeal to us, as a long-time partner in the Pacific, to side with them. That might take the form of a strong statement in their favor, declaring our mutual friendship. They might call on us to send elements of the Seventh Fleet to support them in a joint naval action against China. Depending on their losses, they might ask us to help make good on the oil they lost from their sunken platforms. For sure, they’ll ask us to use our influence with other Western powers to condemn China in the UN.”
He paused, grimacing in pain, and had to regain his train of thought. The attendees looked on with concern.
“With regard to China, we can expect they’ll threaten to use their economic leverage against us if we don’t do certain things. What specifically, we don’t know, but we can assume they’ll press us to take a stand against Japan or, at a minimum, remain neutral as the two countries sort it out. They’ll ask us to use our influence to ensure the West does not mobilize against them, call for trade sanctions or a reprimand in the UN—that sort of thing. Does that about sum it up, folks?”
As his team agreed, Burkmeister looked at his watch and said, “It’s been a long day, and this thing is just starting to unfold. Let’s get everyone working this from every angle and reconvene at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. Let’s keep a lid on our response: instruct your staffs to respond to any news inquiries with the usual ‘we are studying the issue and have no comments at this time’ statement, and limit your conversations on this to those with a need to know. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thanks so much for coming.”
Secretary of Defense Thompson interjected, “Mr. President, how will you respond to either Prime Minister Sato Itsuke or Chairman Lin Cheng if they call you?”
Lyman Burkmeister, president of the United States and perhaps still the most powerful man in the free world, looked down for a moment, took a deep breath, and said, “I honestly can’t tell you just now. All I know is that they may well be among the most important conversations I’ll ever have as your president. I’m expecting their calls within the next twelve hours, and I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot of reflecting and praying before those calls come in.”
6
The White House
14 September 2017
Lyman Burkmeister looked at the clock and contemplated getting up, even though it was only 4:45 in the morning. Since turning in at 11:30 last night, his body and soul had faced an all-out assault from his subconscious mind and the gremlins occupying his body. He couldn’t shut off the replays—from every conceivable angle—of his contentious conversation with Prime Minister Sato Itsuke of Japan. The gremlins had attacked his body with excruciating stomach pains and the mother of all hot flashes. The day had not yet begun, and he was spent.
A hot shower provided a modicum of relief from the fatigue and the clammy feeling he had throughout the night, but the stomach cramps continued unabated. He listened to three news stations while getting dressed, and it was clear that the Chunxiao Incident had generated a trail of financial carnage in the Asian and European markets. The economic tsunami would soon hit Wall Street, and the thought made him shudder.
He had been working in the Oval Office for about half an hour when the
expected call from Chairman Lin Cheng was put through. Taking a few deep breaths, he girded himself for the ordeal he was sure would follow.
“Good morning—or should I say good evening, Chairman Lin. How are you?” Burkmeister opened, feeling a slight stomach pain as he awaited an answer.
“I am doing fine, Mr. President,” Lin replied in a soft and sincere voice, “and thank you for taking my call.”
The next few minutes were spent exchanging pleasantries as each man gauged the mettle of the other. It was a friendly, collegial conversation that contrasted sharply with the contentious call he had last night with Sato, and Burkmeister felt comfortable waiting for Lin to state the purpose of his call. He sensed that Lin also appreciated his patience.
“Mr. President,” said Lin—Burkmeister braced himself for the onslaught—“I am calling to discuss with you the Chunxiao conflict that has arisen between China and Japan.”
“Please go on, Chairman Lin. I thought that was why you were calling, and I am most interested in hearing your perspectives on this unfortunate incident.” So far so good, he thought.
Lin Cheng spent the next few minutes methodically explaining events from the data China had been able to gather. Burkmeister appreciated the calm and noncontentious presentation Lin was making, and he agreed that everything Lin said tracked with the intelligence he had been given by the CIA.
“I am not trying to sell you a bill of goods, Mr. President. These are the facts as we understand them, but I would expect you would want to cross check them with those of your own intelligence sources. I believe you will find them to be accurate.”
“Thank you for your account, Chairman Lin,” Burkmeister replied, mentally comparing Lin’s rendition with the serious errors of commission and omission in Sato’s version last night. “Where do you see things going from here, and what does China expect from the United States?” he added.
“I won’t lie to you, Mr. President.” Lin responded, remembering Wang Peng’s advice, “There are those on the Politburo who are pushing hard for aggressive military action against Japan. Frankly, it has not been easy to keep a lid on it, but then I’m sure you must feel the same sorts of pressure from your Congress.” Burkmeister silently chuckled, feeling a kinship with Lin as he thought about the likes of Senator Tom Collingsworth.
“I understand what you are saying, Chairman Lin, and I appreciate the challenges you must have in seeking a peaceful settlement. Is there anything the United States can do to help you keep the peace?”
Lin sounded grateful as he said, “I appreciate your empathy, Mr. President, and I would ask one thing of you.”
Uh-oh, here it comes, Burkmeister thought as he responded, “What would that be, Mr. Chairman?”
“I would humbly ask that you weigh all the evidence before taking an official position one way or another. I’m sure you will be pressured to react strongly against China by some, and, indeed, you may eventually come to the conclusion that that is what you must do. I believe you are a fair man, Mr. Burkmeister, and only ask that you consider my request.”
That’s it? Just weigh the facts before responding? I was going to do that anyway. It wouldn’t take long to respond to this modest request.
“That sounds like a perfectly reasonable request to me, Mr. Chairman, and you have my word that the United States will remain neutral until we can fully evaluate the situation.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. President. Your patience will help me keep the Politburo in line and avoid a potential conflict between our countries that neither of us wants.” Burkmeister could sense the sincerity of Lin’s remarks and felt a personal kinship with him.
“Thank you, Mr. Chair …” Burkmeister started to say before a knife-like stomach spasm took his breath away.
“Are you okay, Mr. President?” Lin asked with concern.
“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine and sorry for the interruption,” he responded with embarrassment. “I just spilled a hot a cup of coffee on my lap as we were talking,” he added, hoping the chairman believed his little white lie.
“I would like to suggest, Mr. President, that we consider installing a hotline between our two offices. It would logistically and symbolically solidify the dialogue that may be required between our countries as we work through the Chunxiao problem.”
“Yes, that makes perfect sense to me. I’ll authorize it on this end. And I’d like to ask, Mr. Chairman, what does China intend to do now with respect to Japan?”
“Unless provoked, we will avoid taking any military action. We will expel their ambassador and freeze all assets until we are compensated by Japan, but we hope to take our requests to the United Nations for resolution.”
“Thank you, Chairman Lin,” Burkmeister responded with relief, “that sounds like a reasoned approach we can certainly agree with. I’ll be meeting with my people shortly, and I would hope to get back to you within twenty-four hours with anything we might suggest.”
The two world leaders closed their conversation on a pleasant note. President Burkmeister left for the Situation Room with thoughts of how easy it had been to deal with Lin as compared to the aggressive and demanding Sato.
The president was pleased to see the full NSC assembled and waiting for him as he walked into the Situation Room at eight o’clock sharp. The question on everyone’s mind was what had been said to the leaders of Japan and China. He kept them waiting while he went around the room for updates from each team member. Secretary of State Cartright’s report on Prime Minister Sato’s inflammatory speech to the Japanese nation was of particular interest.
“The Prime Minister called it a matter of ‘grave concern,’” Cartright said. “His official story is that a Japanese destroyer inadvertently strayed into Chinese waters and was fired upon and sunk, along with two oil platforms, a drilling ship, and one other naval vessel. He said the Japanese destroyer heroically returned fire on China’s platform and sank it, but at considerable loss of Japanese lives. The Chinese reacted, he said, with disproportionate and excessiv force, and their actions have caused Japan to go to the highest military alert, including calling up reserves. Japan will freeze all Chinese assets, expel China’s ambassador, and petition the United Nations for condemnation of and full restitution from China.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Burkmeister said. “Let me pick up the story from there,”
“I received the expected phone call from Prime Minster Sato at eleven o’clock last night, and I just talked to Chairman Lin Cheng a few minutes ago. I was taken aback by the content and tone of both conversations—a flip-flop of the positions I had expected each to take.
“Prime Minister Sato began with a tirade on China. His story was pretty much along the lines of what Elizabeth reported, but I refrained from telling him that our intelligence confirmed the Harakaze intrusion as deliberate. He invoked the 1960 Treaty of Mutual Cooperation between our two countries and requested—almost demanded—our assistance in dealing with China. I asked him what he meant by ‘assistance,’ and he said it should include diplomatic and financial sanctions, naval support from the Seventh Fleet, and support for their case in the United Nations.” He checked his notes before continuing.
“I reminded him that the 1960 treaty had been more or less abrogated by Japan over the past fifteen years, starting with our expulsion from Okinawa. We were told in no uncertain terms by Japan then that they had a navy and armed forces and no longer wanted or needed American support. At that point, he suggested the United States sell Japan the amount of oil lost from their sunken platforms—as though we have an abundance of oil to export.” Burkmeister felt his temper rising as he recalled this part of the conversation with Sato.
“He then made a not-so-subtle threat that Japan might rethink its investments in American treasuries and other financial interests if we were not willing to fully back them as one of our oldest allies. Needless to say, that really burned me. But my official response was ‘Mr. Prime Minister, you have to do what is best for your co
untry, just as I have to do what’s best for mine. For now, I simply can’t agree to your requests until we get more information and have had a chance to digest it.'” They all nodded in agreement as he continued.
“I suggested we might be of greater assistance to Japan by remaining neutral, as it would give us access to China—access that Japan no longer has. I also said we would bolster the Seventh Fleet to protect American interests in the area and asked that he keep me apprised of any new developments. It was not a pleasant conversation, and my sense was that Sato knew Japan was negotiating from a weak position and was trying to bluff his way into a better deal.”
Burkmeister paused, cleared his throat, took a large sip of water, and again felt a deep, stabbing pain in his stomach. He made a mental note to check this out with Doc Toomay right after the meeting.
“Surprisingly, my conversation with Chairman Lin Cheng had a conciliatory and collegial tone,” Burkmeister said, recovering from his spasm.
After briefing them on his conversation with Lin Cheng and chairing an intense hour of discussion, the president said, “All right, people, we need to wind this meeting down. Let me quickly summarize what I think we agreed upon: First, the United States will remain neutral until all facts and circumstances can be fully ascertained and verified. Second, we’ll urge both sides to cease military action and instead take their dispute to the United Nations for peaceful resolution. Third, we’ll offer our good offices and best-faith efforts as an intermediary to bring a peaceful resolution to the Chunxiao Incident. Last, we’ll reinforce the Seventh Fleet and make sure any would-be aggressors know we’ll have zero tolerance for anyone trying to take advantage of the Chunxiao situation. If that about sums it up, I’d like you, Admiral, to craft a statement I can read in the Rose Garden at eleven thirty today.”
The president hastily adjourned the meeting and almost ran down the hallway to his private restroom around the corner. He bent over the sink with a coughing spasm that left him breathless and disgorged an enormous amount of bile. He wiped his face with a wet towel and was horrified to see blood on the towel and in the sink. He carefully rinsed out the sink and then just stood there, looking at his own haggard face and bloodshot eyes in the mirror. He wondered, What is happening to me?
Lethal Trajectories Page 4
