Surrounded by military advisors, key political heads and various aides, Hudson levelled his eyes on General Paul Draven, his Chief Military Officer. Draven was a big man in his fifties — dour and grey, he looked, as usual, uncomfortable and grim. This morning his customary expression was particularly appropriate.
‘So, how the hell did we not see this coming, Draven?’ started Hudson.
‘Well Prime Minister, as you know, the Chinese have been amassing a large-scale seaborne army for the past 18 months and —’
‘And you said the most likely target was India,’ interrupted Hudson.
‘Yes, sir, based on our intelligence and that of the CIA, we concluded that China had aggressive intentions towards India,’ replied Draven calmly, masking his irritation. He had endured Hudson’s lack of understanding when it came to military practice for the last two years, after Hudson had cruised to power on nothing more than good looks and promises of more positive economic times ahead. Now, even when the prime minister needed the full support of the military, Hudson was still talking down to him.
‘So now we have a mobile Chinese army anchored in the Gulf of Carpentaria numbering over 100,000?’ demanded Hudson, glancing down in disgust to check the number on his screen, ‘Supported by naval and air forces?’
‘That is correct, sir.’
A murmur erupted as the others in the room grasped the full extent of the Chinese force.
‘Also,’ Draven continued, ‘our military communications appear to have been taken out by the Chinese — we expect to have this solved by our tech department within 24 hours. But at the moment our communications are down.’
‘Matt,’ the prime minister leaned over to whisper quietly, ‘is Ambassador Xian here yet? We need some answers now.’
‘Let me go and check,’ said Lang, standing and striding to the door.
Turning his attention back to General Draven, Hudson continued. ‘So, what are the Chinese up to then? Can’t imagine they’re just stopping in for a bit of R&R in the Gulf before they head off to India. I expect a briefing on possible scenarios and our reactive options in one hour. That is all.’ With that, Hudson was up and walking away from the table, leaving everyone else in stunned silence.
On Level 4 of the SOF, Ambassador Xian waited in the prime minister’s office. The room, with its wood and leather, looked incongruous with the rest of the white-and-silver complex. Xian was perched on the edge of the old leather couch, opposite a large fireplace. He had his hands on his lap and sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead. Xian was a slim man, always properly suited and groomed to within an inch of his life. He was a staunch Communist Party member and though educated in the West, he embraced the communist ethos wholeheartedly. This made him a valuable asset to the Chinese Government. He knew how the West worked and yet his loyalty to the Party was unwavering, which accounted for his rapid ascent in communist politics and why he was now sitting in Hudson’s office.
Xian looked the picture of calm, but inside his guts were churning at the thought of giving Hudson the news — news he himself had only learnt at 1 am that morning from his superiors in Beijing.
Hudson walked into the room and saw him seated on the couch.
‘Ambassador, if you please,’ Hudson beckoned to the chair opposite his desk. ‘This is not a casual chat.’
The ambassador stood a bit too quickly, giving away his nervousness. It was not missed by Hudson, and it was a relief for him to see that Ambassador Xian was not comfortable in this situation.
‘Prime Minister, out of respect, I shall dispense with the pleasantries and get straight to the point,’ Xian began in his virtually unaccented English. Any of his feelings of nervousness or fear faded once he began to speak. ‘Chairman Yun has deemed the current economic sanctions, in the form of highly restrictive quotas on the export of natural resources to China, to be tolerable no longer. He understands that Australia is acting upon the direction of the United States of America and is doing as their foreign policy has asked you to do.’ Here Xian paused, making sure Hudson was grasping the implications of what he was saying.
Hudson, speechless, nodded for Xian to continue.
‘China’s future is dependent on raw materials for building a better society and securing the future of our people. This means we must have access to an affordable, reliable source of natural resources — something your country has in abundance — so China is taking steps to secure its supply chain of natural resources, to ensure we are not beholden to Australia — and therefore the United States.’
Hudson moved uncomfortably in his chair, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowing.
Xian did not stop. ‘The intention of the Chinese Government is no secret, Prime Minister. China wishes to take control of your mines and establish a transportation link back to China. I must stress, we are not interested in controlling your cities or way of life. Our intention is to take control of the mines peacefully —’
‘By sending an armada with 100,000 troops? This is an outrage!’ Hudson burst out.
‘Peace through power. You must see that to fight is pointless — you will only be needlessly killing your own people.’
Hudson was overcome with dizziness as the implications sunk in. He had to steady himself at his desk while the feeling of vertigo receded, trying to maintain an outward appearance of calm.
‘Xian, this is the 2030s. Surely we could have come to, and I pray can still come to, a diplomatic resolution that ensures China gets her resources without resorting to all-out war?’
Xian looked incredulous. ‘Prime Minister, you forget, China has being trying to establish a higher quota for Australian imports of iron ore, copper and uranium for the last five years.’
‘But Xian…’
‘No “buts”, Mr Hudson!’ Xian interrupted. ‘China has set in motion a military operation that will ensure the mines are secured under Chinese control. The Americans cannot help you. I think you will find they are somewhat preoccupied with their current commitments in the Middle East and in their own backyard,’ said Xian before continuing more calmly. ‘For too long you have simply done as the US has ordered. We know the US is trying to slow down China’s development and we know that you are more than willing to do exactly as it demands. We have tried diplomacy, Prime Minister. It didn’t work.’
‘If that is your feeling Xian — and the position of your government — then there is nothing more to say. The Australian people will never lie down and let you come in and take what is ours. You underestimate us. Now please leave,’ Hudson shot back.
Xian stared at Hudson, the corners of his mouth dropping slightly. Without another word, he stood, buttoned his jacket, turned and walked away.
Hudson put his fist to his mouth, staring at a pile of papers on the corner of his desk. He listened as the sound of Xian’s footsteps faded as he walked down the corridor. The silence that settled after his departure was torture. Unable to move, Hudson sat for what must have been 20 minutes — an eternity for the leader of a country.
‘Christ,’ he whispered, his mind racing.
Eventually, Lang knocked on the door and entered. ‘Sir, what did he have to say?’
Hudson looked up, his mouth dropping open but no words were coming out.
‘Sir, what did Xian say?’
‘We misplayed it. The Chinese, Matt. We got it wrong. We should have sided with them back in the twenties when we reviewed our foreign alliance strategy.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’
‘Reconvene the chiefs — I need to address them now,’ said Hudson, more focussed now.