Palawan came into view, as did the Malay landmass they had crossed over an hour earlier. Looking behind and on his displays, Wilson saw the black pall from Stingray; he then craned his neck all the way back at his six. The faint smudge on the horizon was smoke rising from the cauldron of Blood Moon.
Hancock was an hour away, and Wilson had about thirty minutes of fuel left, but a big Royal Australian Airbus with gas was coming to rescue him. The bright sun in Wilson’s face added to his post-strike fatigue, and he realized he was starving. Leveling at 15,000 and safe from the threat behind them, Breeder shut down his engine. Tails remained with him as Wilson and Hutch continued toward the tanker. If it wasn’t going to happen, Wilson could turn south and maybe reach a field on the Malay coast.
He popped off a bayonet fitting and took in big breaths, then pulled his water flask out of his g-suit pocket and gulped most of it down. He could have been killed several times in the past hour, and knew he could lose his jet or his life, in any number of ways, as he returned to the ship. Nevertheless, Wilson felt calm. All would be okay. He knew what he would do. He was sure of it.
At that moment — over an exotic Philippine island most Americans had never heard of and fewer cared about — he felt a peace he had never felt before. He couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER 62
As another glorious dawn broke over Oahu, Cactus Clark stood up from his desk to walk to the Command Center for another long day. He had already been on the phone with the Secretary, who was taking a ration from SECSTATE. Last night the ambassador to Japan reported a fracturing of resolve in the Diet. The conflict was now hitting people in their pocketbooks. Pressure to cease hostilities was building with each passing day, but the Chinese were still fighting, despite the damage done to their outposts. His aide knocked and opened the office door.
“Sir, it’s Marshal Dong.”
Incredulous, Cactus looked at the time. “It’s the middle of the night there.”
“Yes, sir, he’s holding.”
Clark returned to his desk. “Put him through.”
As he waited, Clark stared at the phone, preparing for battle. Dong was an adversary, an enemy, but one Clark had met personally. What did he want? What message was he delivering? Hancock and Les Aspin beat up the Spratly group last night, but the PLA still had fight in it. Admiral Qin’s rope-a-dope tactic of drawing the Americans closer to the mainland was making McGill nervous, and sending combatants through the Luzon Strait exposed them to the threat of moored mines and lurking subs in restricted waters. Clark’s reach was longer, but a knockout blow required him to get closer. Dong only had to get lucky once.
The phone buzzed. Clark waited for the next buzz before picking up. He’s not your friend.
“Clark here,” he snapped.
“My dear Admiral Clark, I hope your morning weather in Hawaii is enjoyable and that you are well.”
“What do you want, Dong?” Clark answered, brushing past Dong’s fake pleasantries. He hoped the translator could convey the edge in his voice.
“Admiral, our children and yours are giving good account of themselves in the People’s near seas, but, as so often happens in schoolyard fisticuffs, fathers must step in to prevent serious injury, and to ensure the safety of innocents nearby. We know that conflicts can escalate and cause irreparable harm. We also know that we cannot resist the forces arrayed against us, and once again the United States military has demonstrated to the world that you remain a capable and lethal force that no one can challenge.”
Schoolyard fisticuffs? Clark thought. Screw you.
“You challenged us, Dong, first with Cape Esperance, then holding half our carrier crew during a port call you hosted, attacking us and our allies inside the second chain, sinking merchant traffic…. Shall I continue?”
“Admiral Clark, you, too, would defend your sovereign territory from foreign invasion. Do you expect any less of us?”
“You downed our P-8 conducting innocent passage in international airspace; you sank the Japanese combatant in open and uncontested seas. It’s you, Dong, and your belligerence, that caused all of this.”
“Innocent passage, Admiral Clark? Your warplane was flying over our territorial seas and territorial islands, our sovereign territory. Again, is it only you Americans who get to violate us with impunity?”
“Not buying it, Dong. Dumping dredge sand on a coral reef hundreds of miles from anything and planting your flag on it doesn’t make it your territory. The international courts have spoken, and no one backs your claims.”
“Yes, the international courts, dictating matters on the high seas half a world away. Admiral Clark, you must understand that the People’s Republic has no obligation to comply with a piece of paper written in an obscure hamlet in the Netherlands. Our sovereign claims are traced in the historical record over hundreds of years ago, long before any European government existed, before the rise of Muhammadism in Arabia, before any of the warring tribes of Europe organized themselves, even before they spoke with languages recognized today. When your country was a savage wilderness, Admiral, and had never been trod upon by humans other than descendants of my own Han Chinese, we were a sovereign nation and laid claim to our near seas. And today your own country, Admiral, ignores the very court you ask mine to obey.”
“Marshal Dong, the world changes, history changes and civilizations rise and fall. Today, in 2018, those illegal islands are not recognized. Your might does not make right.” A long pause ensued, and Dong changed tactics.
“Irrespective of the past, Admiral Clark, your compelling might is such that we cannot face any longer. We are inferior in modern technology, our forces young and untrained. This unfortunate episode also displays the importance of our near seas to not only our neighbors but to the entire world. The People’s Republic wishes to be a good neighbor at all times, and to do business with peoples who can advance the human condition for all the world over. We seek harmony and wish to de-escalate conflict, restoring peaceful trade to the region and to the worldwide ports our ships serve. We offer peace, Admiral Clark, a cessation of hostilities.”
Clark listened, and let the silence sink in over 5,000 miles away.
“Marshal Dong, your rockets have hit American territory and sunk American ships. What guarantees do we have—?”
The translator broke in. “As have your forces hit the People’s territory, and sunk the People’s ships.”
Clark remained calm. “Dong, no one recognizes your outposts as yours. They are not sovereign territory. We don’t recognize what you’ve built as having any legal rights.”
After a moment the translator answered. “We must agree to disagree, Admiral, but in a gesture of peace and harmony, the People’s forces will withdraw and not threaten friendly vessels in our near seas. We consider you a friend, Admiral Clark, and occasional disagreements can be forgiven. In this way friendships are strengthened! After all, we produce and you buy, which has done wonders for the living standards of both our people. All Chinese enjoy nutritious American soybeans and beef; our people exist for mutual benefit. Admiral Clark, we are but military men serving with honor. We know more than most that tectonic forces much stronger than those at our command are involved. The human spirit for peace and harmony can never be crushed.”