With her was General Wu, carrying a stack of briefs. She carried only the umbrella, hooked as usual over her right arm.
Not until they reached the big double door, held open by a staff officer, did it come to her. “Do you hear it, General?”
He looked perplexed. “Hear what, Madame President?”
“The silence. Taipei is quiet. No explosions, no bombs, no sirens.”
She smiled at the realization. Not since noon had any missiles or bombs rained down on Taiwan. Nor, for that matter, had any weapons been launched against the mainland of China.
The stillness lay over Taipei like a soft blanket.
The ministers rose in unison as she entered the chamber. In a spontaneous gesture, they broke into applause. All except Franklin Huang, who wore his standard sullen expression of disapproval.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” She took her place at the head of the massive teak conference table. She hung the umbrella in its usual place over the arm of her chair. “Please be seated.”
The ministers already knew, at least in principle, about the armistice. In the briefs that General Wu placed before her on the table were the transcripts of the discussions with the President of the United States, who had brokered the agreement. These she intended to read to the ministers, then she would explain how the President had extracted the necessary concessions from Beijing.
Looking at the faces around the table, Charlotte knew that not all would be pleased with her handling of the armistice. Least of all, the Premier, Franklin Huang. But Huang would not approve of anything she did.
“As most of you know, the terms of the armistice were verbally agreed to by the President of the PRC and myself. A formal treaty will be signed by our emissaries in two days time in Hong Kong.” She nodded to Ma Wang, the Foreign Minister. “That, Minister Ma, will be your task.”
“That is a violation of the constitution,” declared Franklin Huang. “Any such treaty must be approved by the legislative Yuan. And if anyone is be a signatory to the armistice, it should be me, the Premier and head of the Yuan.”
“I have consulted our supreme court justices,” said Charlotte. “They assure me that in the case of war, no such approval is required. And it is entirely the President’s prerogative who is designated as my emissary. In this instance, I have my own reasons for assigning Foreign Minister Ma.”
“May I ask what those reasons might be?” Huang demanded.
“No.” She didn’t bother looking up from the brief. “You’ll learn in due time.”
Huang looked as if he were about to choke.
She ignored him and went on. “This cabinet should know that a very special operation — and certain special heroics — were required to create the conditions for the armistice.”
“Are you referring to Operation Raven Swoop, Madame President?” asked Ma Wang. “The effort to remove the invisible fighter aircraft that was plaguing us?”
“I am. Unfortunately, much of the story must remain secret. But I can tell you this much. The PLA’s ability to use their secret weapon was neutralized by our special operations forces — with, uh, some outside help.”
At this, several ministers nodded. They were guessing, she assumed, about the United States’ role in Operation Raven Swoop.
“These are the basic terms of the armistice.” She picked up the top sheet from the stack. “All units of the PLA and of the Taiwanese Self Defense Forces will cease hostile actions. No military aircraft will be flown over the other country’s land mass, including the island group of Qemoy and Matsu. All naval vessels, submarines included, will withdraw from the other country’s territorial waters.
“In a mostly carefully worded statement, the People’s Republic of China acknowledges the right of Taiwan to govern itself. For our part, we will forego any public declarations of independence from the PRC.
“You mean a return to the status quo?” asked Feng Wei-shan, the Minister of Finance. “You have renounced President Li’s declaration of independence?”
Charlotte nodded. “That was the President of the United States’s stipulation. The PRC, for its part, is to publicly declare that Taiwan will not be forced to join the communist republic of mainland China. The door will remain open for Taiwan at a future date, and only after a democratic vote, to become a province of the People’s Republic of China. It will be our choice and not theirs.”
She watched the reaction around the table. As she expected, the hard-liners like Feng and Lo were not pleased. None, however, wanted a continuation of the debilitating war with the PRC. Each minister knew in his heart that Taiwan would not survive a protracted war with China.
Charlotte was pleased with the outcome. She had achieved the best of all possibilities. Taiwan would continue to prosper as a free country without the threat of a military take-over by China. She knew that if she did nothing else in her tenure as President, she would be remembered for this accomplishment.
“Perhaps you could elaborate on some of the circumstances of this armistice,” Minister Feng said. “Has China acknowledged starting the war by murdering President Li?”
Charlotte and General Wu exchanged a silent glance. “No,” she said. “In fact, the President of the PRC denies any connection with the shoot down of President Li’s jet.”
“That’s a lie, of course,” said Feng. “We are certain that the Airbus was shot down by China’s secret stealth jet.”
“Yes, Minister, we have convincing evidence to that effect. What the President of the PRC means is, he didn’t issue the order. In fact, if he is to be believed, he was as surprised as we were when it happened.”
Feng scoffed at this. “That is ridiculous. You don’t believe him, of course.”
“In fact, I do.”
Around the long table she saw only open mouths, astonished stares.
Feng asked the question on all their minds. “Who, then?”
Charlotte nodded to General Wu, who was standing at a projector across the room. He flicked the switch, and an image flashed onto the wall-length white screen.
It was blurry, taken through a high-powered telephoto lens, but the faces were recognizable. Two men stood on the terrace of a country lodge.
Around the table, a collective sucking-in of breath took place.
“The man in the foreground, for those of you aren’t familiar with him, is General Tsin Shouyi, chief of staff of the PLA. The other some of you know.”
They did. A murmur swept over the room.
“His name is Robert Liu, and he is the senior aide to the Premier of Taiwan.”
By now all the eyes in the cabinet room were trained on Franklin Huang.
Huang slapped his hand down on the table. “Preposterous,” he said in a derisive voice. “Just another pitiful attempt by our temporary President to discredit me. I have no idea how or when that photo was taken, or for what reason. If Robert Liu is guilty of collaborating, then we will deal with him.”
“We have already dealt with him. And he is cooperating fully. He readily admits that he was acting as your emissary in his meeting with General Tsin. That photo was taken exactly two days before President Li’s flight to Kuala Lumpur, which was the subject of their meeting.” She turned her gaze directly on Franklin Huang. “Is that not true, Premier?”
“Nonsense! If Robert Liu is a spy, which has not been proven, he would try to implicate whoever he could, especially a senior statesman. His word means nothing. You have no proof.”
Charlotte nodded again to General Wu, who pushed the play button on a digital recorder. The distinctive, high-pitched voice of Franklin Huang crackled over the two speakers on the wall.
“… plane will depart Kuala Lumpur at 2:30 this afternoon. The route of flight will be via the commercial airway, along the Vietnamese coast, then over the South China Sea.”