“Thirdly, agree to make a statement saying that we support eventual reunification. You don’t have to mention or reverse your statement supporting Chinese Taipei’s independence — the press reports say that Lee Teng-hui’s government won’t survive for long anyway, that they’ve all fled the country. If the Nationalists can’t survive, how can you be expected to support them?”
“The facts don’t agree with your sentiment, Senator,” the President said firmly. “First of all, we have no independent confirmation that President Lee has fled the country and his government has collapsed, and I am not going to abandon him at his greatest hour of need.” Finegold heard how Martindale said the word “Senator” instead of “Barbara,” and she could feel their intimate connection breaking down — she realized that the President was made of sterner stuff than she had ever given him credit for. He stepped back from her, reincluding the others in their conversation as he went on: “Second, it’s obvious that China is not willing to peaceably wait a hundred years for Taiwan to join them — they are not willing to wait a hundred days, or even a hundred hours. Their uninhibited use of nuclear weapons proves that.”
“China pledges to cease all military attacks and withdraw its troops from disputed territory.”
“That’s not what Foreign Minister Qian said, Senator,” Secretary of State Hartman said. “China promised to stop all nuclear attacks and withdraw troops as soon as it is safe to do so. That’s not the same as a military withdrawal.”
“You’re mincing words, Mr. Secretary,” Finegold said. She watched the President relax, allowing his advisor’s words to surround him like a stone wall. The spell was now broken, Finegold realized — they were back to being adversaries again. So be it. “What it means to me is that we’ll stop the nuclear threat, and that’s what’s important here.” She turned to the President again. She had tried to use reason and logic, tried to use a little vainglory, and tried a little sweetness — and failed. Now she had to try the direct approach, in none-too-subtle earnest: “It is very important that you carefully consider this opportunity to make peace with the Chinese, Mr. President.”
The President turned toward Finegold, both curled locks of silver hair suddenly, angrily visible now on his forehead. Jerrod Hale uncrossed his arms, his body stiff with anticipation; at that same instant, Philip Freeman shut off and checked his pen-size pager in his jacket pocket, cleared his throat, and stood to use the phone on the President’s desk. Both men’s actions did nothing to relieve the thick tension that had just invaded the Oval Office. “Excuse me, Senator, but that sounded like a threat to me,” he said.
“It’s not a threat, Mr. President,” Barbara Finegold said. “But there have been… rumblings, from certain important government quarters, that cast some doubt on your legal and ethical motivations in this crisis, beginning with the Persian Gulf conflict—”
“No doubt bolstered by your Senate hearings and your statements in the press,” Nicholas Gant interjected.
“We are not going to tolerate intimidation or political blackmail, Senator,” Vice President Whiting said angrily. “Your attacks on the President are nothing more than partisan politics, taking advantage of the crisis in Asia to further your own political agenda. The American people don’t buy it.”
“My political agenda is not the topic of discussion, Mrs. Whiting— its the President’s I’m worried about,” Finegold said bitterly. “I’m worried that the President will sacrifice the lives of more brave soldiers and sailors just to try to show who’s the cock of the roost! ”
“That is enough, Senator! ” Jerrod Hale exploded. “You are way out of line!”
“Hold on, Jerrod, hold on,” the President said after listening to the message Philip Freeman had just whispered in his ear. “I’ve just been informed that an attack is under way against mainland China. An air raid has severely crippled the Chinese armies that were poised to invade Quemoy Island.”
“An attack? Air raids?” Finegold sputtered. “Excuse me, Mr. President, but we’ve been sitting here listening to you explain how you’ve got things under control, that you’re not trying to stir up a military free-for- all in three different regions of the world, that the capture of our sub by Iran was nothing more than a cat-and-mouse game gone awry — and now you tell us that you’ve staged a sneak attack on the Chinese army? ”
“You don’t understand, Senator — this attack doesn’t involve any American military forces,” the President said. “I haven’t authorized any air attacks against China.”
“But whoever’s done it really did a good job,” Freeman added. “Initial estimates say that up to one-tenth of the Chinese invasion force that had amassed in southern Fujian province near Xiamen was destroyed or crippled — that could be as much as fifteen, twenty thousand troops and thousands of vehicles. Components of four infantry divisions have been badly hit.”
“Four divisions?” Secretary of Defense Chastain remarked. “It must’ve taken three or four heavy bomb wings to do that kind of damage.
“You’re joking, right?” Senator Barbara Finegold asked, searching the President’s and each of his advisors’ faces carefully for any signs of playacting. “You’re telling me that someone — you don’t know who — has just killed as many as twenty thousand men, and you don’t know who it was?”
“That’s right, Senator,” the President replied with a sly smile. “But whoever it is, they probably deserve a medal… unless they plunge us into global thermonuclear war in the next few minutes.”
“Jesus Christ…” Joseph Crane gasped. “You seem pretty damn casual about this, Mr. Martindale! ”
“There’s not a damn thing I can do about what’s happening out there, Mr. Crane,” the President said, with his sly grin again. The only sign of concern on his face were the two silver locks of hair curling down over his forehead, but both Crane and Finegold were too stunned to notice. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to start monitoring this situation.” The President and his advisors did not wait until the members of Congress recovered from their surprise before he stepped quickly out of the Oval Office to his private study.
David Luger counted no fewer than twenty Chinese fighters buzzing in their area — it was a miracle the EB-52 Megafortress did not collide with them.
Luger and the crew of the Megafortress were skimming less than 200 feet above the southwest side of the high, steep Tienmu Mountains. The area was dotted with dozens of small mining towns, and it took a lot of course changes to stay away from them as they headed northbound. McLanahan and Elliott would have liked their overall cruising altitude to be much lower — some of the Chinese fighter patrols were going down as low as 10,000 feet to look for the Megafortress — but that was impossible in this area. The valley floors were 500 to 1,000 feet above sea level, but would rise to 5,000, 6,000, even 7,000 feet in less than ten miles. The EB-52 was operating at peak efficiency, but even lightly loaded it could not climb more than 3,000 feet per minute without ballooning over a ridge.
Finally, even after all their aggressive maneuvering, there was no place for them to hide. Northeast of the city of Jingdezhen were ten small- to medium-size mining towns; to the west was the Poyang Lake flood-plain, along with a Chinese fighter base at Anqing, just fifty miles to the northwest. “Crew, I’m going to take us between two of those mining towns to the north,” Patrick McLanahan said. “We can’t go any farther west. High terrain is east and northeast; min safe altitude is five thousand feet on this leg, then six thousand one hundred on the next leg. We’re five minutes to the release point. I’m setting five-hundred-foot clearance plane for this leg so we don’t balloon over these upcoming ridges.”