She walked into the room. It was dominated by one long table with about 20 chairs. Most chairs were occupied, about half by officers, the remainder by men in suits. On the table in front of each chair sat a briefing book and a nametag. Donna looked for her tag at an unoccupied chair. Other than an electronic white board and a TV at the left end of the room and a TV camera mounted on the right end of the room to the upper right corner of the ceiling, the room had no other adornments or visible equipment. Clearly this room was about as functional as they came in Washington.
She found her seat at the far end of the table, facing the door. To her right was a powerfully built Army Colonel with a massive West Point ring and wedding band on his sausage-like, hairy ring finger. To her left was a bored-looking middle-aged man from the State Department. His reading glasses hung on the end of his slender nose, his salt and pepper hair nicely groomed. Two more people made their way into the room, both men in their 40s wearing suits.
Donna scanned the room — not a woman in the room save her, and all the men were at least in their early 40s and up. So, she was the youngest person and the only woman. That was fine. She liked a challenge.
Donna smiled as an Air Force general stood in front of the white board and cleared his throat. Their eyes briefly locked and Donna looked away, flushing slightly. “My name is Lieutenant General Tim Taylor. Thank you all for coming here today and taking time out from your busy schedules to participate in this important exercise. We’ll conduct a brief orientation, review our goals and our schedule, and after a short break, we will provide you with the remainder of the day to review your role-playing packets, ask questions and make your initial decisions. Lunch will be delivered. I expect to get you all out of here today by 16, er, 4:30 PM.”
Donna noticed the general’s quick recovery from saying 1630 hours. His face had a kindly look to it, but there was sadness in the eyes. Donna took a breath—the man’s probably 20 years my senior, and married too, get a grip.
As the general continued, Donna saw the ring on his left hand, “As some of you know, this simulation will review Chinese options to reintegrate Taiwan into China. We are the red cell. Our goal is to overcome Taiwanese, American, and other nations’ counters to our actions.” The man from State sighed with disdain. Had Donna been looking at him, she would have also seen him roll his eyes briefly to the ceiling. The Army Colonel let out a barely perceptible grunt. Donna focused on the general’s words. This could be one of the more interesting assignments she’d had since joining the CIA as a political analyst specializing in Chinese affairs.
The general drew a quick breath and focused his gaze on the civilians in the room, “We will have two opposition cells, a blue cell and a green cell. They will independently develop counters to your actions as a sort of American A and B team. There will also be separate cells for Taiwan, North and South Korea, and Japan. Each cell will have its own success criteria. After your first move, you will then have to generate two responses, one to counter each cell opposing you. The only requirement you have is that you must attempt to control Taiwan by the end of play.”
The man from State muttered under his breath, “What a waste of time…”
“Five of you will be the controlling players in this simulation. The remaining 15 are support personnel representing Chinese political, military, diplomatic, and industrial leaders and analysts. We are using five players to provide our simulation with a leadership junta roughly similar to the collective authoritarian structure the PRC now uses. The five controlling players are as follows; please raise your hand when your name is called: Colonel Westly Lake will represent the People’s Liberation Army,” the Colonel to Donna’s right raised his right hand. His face held the faintest of smiles; it almost looked predatory. “Mr. Amos Ye of Commerce will represent China’s industrial interests and the Ministry of Economic Affairs,” Donna looked around the room, leaning forward, she saw that Mr. Ye was seated just to the left of the bored looking man from State. “Dr. John Wendell from State will represent China’s Foreign Ministry,” Dr. Wendell reluctantly raised his hand, his elbow never leaving the table. “Donna Klein from the CIA will represent the Premier, the Head of Government,” Donna raised her hand and held back a smile. She noticed a couple of arched eyebrows in the room full of men. “And, Cliff Dowling, on loan to the Pentagon from State serving as Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for the Asian and Pacific region, will represent the Chairman of the Communist Party who is also President, Head of State,” The man to the right of Colonel Lake raised his hand and smiled. “Please take the next 30 minutes to review your packets with your specific instructions, then wait for further instructions from your group leader.”
The Air Force general wrapped up by explaining where the bathrooms were and how to find a phone. He also apologized that pagers didn’t work in this area due to extra electronic shielding put in place for security concerns. Donna was used to that. She only carried a pager outside of CIA headquarters. She glanced around the room and noticed that everyone was busy delving into their briefing books. She opened hers.
TOP SECRET, NOFORN
Scenario 1199 PRC/ROC
PRC Premier Briefing Packet
GOALS: You are the Chairman’s right hand. You must control the government and bring all resources to bear as necessary to support the Chairman’s policy of reunifying Taiwan with China through whatever means possible. You serve as the Chairman’s crucial eyes and ears in determining support for his policies among the various government ministries and among the people.
ASSETS: All non-military, non-Communist Party advisors in this simulation work for you and will provide you with whatever information or advice you require.
The remainder of the packet provided additional background information and rules for the scenario. She even noticed a paragraph on the Premier’s political modus operandi from a briefing she wrote a few months ago. Good source material, she grinned to herself.
Donna heard someone clear his throat. It was Cliff Dowling. “All right team, let’s get this exercise moving. First, I want to reconfigure the seating arrangements. As President of China, I think I’ve the power to do that.” Someone in the room chuckled and Dowling cracked a smile, “I’m going to sit at the end of the table, opposite the camera. Ms. Klein, I’d like you to sit on my right. I want Colonel Lake to my left. Dr. Wendell and Mr. Ye, please sit to Ms. Klein’s right. The rest of you, if you’re a military advisor or minor military role-player, please sit on Colonel Lake’s side of the table. Everyone else, take any available seat. Take a ten minute break and then sit in your proper places.” The room erupted with the noise of chairs scraping on linoleum tile floor and shuffling papers.
Dowling approached Donna with his outstretched hand. He was a bit on the tall side, about six foot to Donna’s five foot four. He had thin brown hair, fairly closely cropped (probably blends in better in the Pentagon, Donna mused). His eyes were brown, the edges weathered, as if he’d been on one too many tough overseas assignments. “Thanks for coming, Donna, you come highly recommended. What do you think so far?”
“Well, sir, I’m looking forward to this, but frankly I’m a little concerned.”