Yang saw Xi’s sincerity. If he was going to have to give up his dream of being the supreme leader of the PRC, the man who would lead the world into the 21st century of Chinese Greatness, then he would have a say in who would take his place, or he would do his best to burn the world to the ground.
Yang nodded, then clasped Xi’s hand as he whispered, “I will do my best, Mr. President. I must be going.”
The two parted ways.
As General Yang flew over the Himalayan Mountains, he thought to himself that this was something everyone should get to experience at least once in their lifetime. The expanse of the mountain ranges, many covered with snow, was a surreal scene to take in. Up here, flying over the mountains had given Yang some time to just pause and think, away from all the decisions and pressures of his new position.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought back to his time growing up in America. He had grown up living the American dream. Albeit, his father was a wealthy Chinese businessman, but he still went to the malls, movie theaters, beaches, and theme parks many Americans grew up going to. During his time at the Citadel, he had formed some great friendships. He thought about some of those old friends more and more these days, wondering how many of them were currently fighting against his country.
Yang had lost contact with many of them over the years as he’d moved further up the military ranks. It was frowned upon to stay in touch with US military officers once the Americans had taken a more adversarial relationship with China in the mid-2000s. Still, he wondered how some of his old friends were doing. Thinking back to those times at the Citadel made him question what he was doing on this trip, especially after Xi’s last-minute conversation with him. Was Xi testing him? Would he really accept peace terms if it meant he had to surrender control of the government? Would the Americans even entertain such an idea? From everything he remembered of his training at the Citadel, the Americans would not willingly accept anything less than complete surrender from a foe they felt they could defeat.
In school, he had studied the terms of surrender presented to the Germans and the Japanese by the Allies; during that war, the Americans had been willing to wipe out those countries’ entire populations to achieve victory if they had to. The Americans had had several more atomic bombs sent to the Pacific, ready for use when the Japanese emperor had overruled his military leaders and announced the country’s surrender.
Sighing, General Yang opened his eyes and took another drink of his tea. They were nearly to Kathmandu — he’d need to collect his thoughts and begin to focus on the task at hand: obtaining an end to the war.
After nearly nine hours flying in a plane, General Yang’s back was stiff and sore.
As soon as he landed at the international airport, his advance party was there to meet him. They whisked him away to the secretive location where the peace talks would be held. Because of the nature of these negotiations, the number of staff members involved had been kept to a bare minimum. Neither party wanted protests to form or for any threat to develop that might threaten the talks.
Secretary of Defense Jim Castle, General John Bennet, and Secretary of State Landover sat in one of the executive suites of the hotel they had turned into their temporary operations center. The furniture and bed had been moved out of the room to accommodate the collection of computer monitors, communications equipment, and other odds and ends the senior officials needed to run the war and communicate back to the Pentagon and White House. A handful of Defense Intelligence Agency, CIA, and NSA personnel were also present, representing their own organizations and bringing to bear any capabilities Castle, Bennet, and Landover might need for this all-important meeting.
The three men were in the middle of reviewing the latest battle reports when a major general walked into the room. He snapped to attention before announcing himself. “Sirs, Major General Larry Breedlove reporting as ordered.”
General Bennet looked up at the general and waved off his salute. “Take a seat,” he said. Then he picked up the man’s personnel file while Secretary Castle looked him over.
“You know why you’ve been asked to join us in Nepal?” asked Castle with a blank look on his face.
Breedlove shook his head nervously. “No, Sir. I had no idea any of you would even be in Nepal,” he answered.
Bennet saw the confused look on the man’s face and did his best not to smile. Two days ago, General Breedlove had been commanding a division in Shanghai, and now, through a series of cloak and dagger exchanges, he found himself whisked away to a secretive meeting in Nepal.
“I might be a bit disoriented too,” Bennet thought in amusement.
Keeping a straight face, General Bennet asked, “You graduated from the Citadel, correct?”
Although they all obviously knew the answer, all three men stared at Breedlove, waiting for his response.
“Yes, Sir, I did. I believe you have my military file in front of you. It also lists when I was there and what military schools I’ve completed since then.”
Nodding, Bennet continued, “You were roommates with a foreign student by the name of Yang Yin, correct?”
They all leaned forward. Breedlove shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I was,” he admitted. “Is that a problem?”
Secretary Landover probed, “What are your thoughts on the man? Do you know how he felt about America and his ancestral home?”
General Breedlove sat back in his chair. His eyes shifted up and to the left as he seemed to transport himself to a college dorm room twenty years ago. “I knew Yin to be a very capable cadet. He excelled at everything at the academy. I was actually very surprised when he turned down a commission in the Army to return to China. However, I also knew his father was a very wealthy businessman from China, and his family was only living in America while his father’s business worked through some corporate acquisitions. I must say though, I haven’t talked to Yin in more than ten years. His opinions of America have probably changed a lot over the years.”
“Do you know why all of us are here, in Nepal?” asked Castle.
Breedlove shook his head.
“The Chinese have asked to discuss potential terms to end the war,” Secretary Landover explained.
Bennet added, “And the reason you’re here, General Breedlove, is because your former Citadel roommate, Yang Yin, is the new head of the People’s Liberation Army and the man flying here to discuss that with us. We’ve asked you here because we’d like any insight we can get that might help us end this war — anything from what he’s like, to his character, to possible tactics we might be able to use against him to convince him to agree to a termination of the conflict.”
General Breedlove let out a deep breath. “I’ll do what I can to help. What more would you like to know about him?”
The group talked for several more hours about Yang Yin. By the end of the conversation, they knew everything about the man they could, from what kind of music he appreciated to what his family was like. In negotiations this important, even the PLA general’s favorite American foods could turn out to be important.
Major General Breedlove examined the room. All appeared to be in order. The table for the meeting had been set, with little American flags adorning the place settings of each of the principal American negotiators, and small Chinese flags sitting along the opposite side. At the opposing heads of the table were seats designated for the American and Chinese notetakers, who would transcribe the talks. Along the ornate walls, additional chairs had been placed for staff members.