Hancock was a question mark, and Johnson said the ship needed weeks in port to repair the catapults. Clark didn’t have weeks. If the Chinese had time, they could make the Spratlys and the whole SCS nearly impenetrable. Clark was confident of ultimate victory, but he was also a realist.
More — many more — kids on both sides would die before this ended. Ships would sink and dozens of aircraft would be shot down. By husbanding his resources now, he could deliver hammer blows from 270 degrees of the compass in a week or two. Clark needed to attack sooner rather than later, but by striking first the Chinese had bought the time they needed to mobilize for an all-out air-sea fight.
The Seventh Fleet commander called on the secure line and was put through. He would task McGill with devising an operational plan to roll back the Chinese and defend American allies. How are we going to do this?
“John, Cactus here, and I’m all ears.”
“Sir, just got a message from Randy Johnson. His people tell him the repairs are going to take two to three weeks. With the known PRC sub in the region, he is hightailing it for Yokosuka, and he has escorts with him. Most of his air wing is at Iwo Jima, but they are basically on a shoestring and don’t have the ordnance to be a power projection asset. However, they are off the ship and can fly where needed.”
“Where do you want them?” Clark asked.
McGill already had an answer. “Kadena, sir. Maybe Iwakuni. We’ll have support, security, and good comms.”
“Concur… but I want them on Hancock.”
“Me, too, sir, but she’s at least two weeks away, and…”
Impatient, Clark cut him off. “John, when she gets to Yokosuka, you’ve got two days to ready her for combat. I’ll know the minute she shifts colors at the pier, and the clock will begin then. Two days. Out here.”
As the sun set on Blood Moon Atoll, Bai Quon and Liu Qi stood with their backs against the radar shack that sat along the runway perimeter road. They watched the sky in silence. Towering cumulus clouds hovered to the east, their purple bases rising to magnificent white crowns set against the sunlit blue miles above. On the reddened western horizon, Bai could make out the silhouette of a cargo ship towing a barge north, perhaps one that supplied the Song Ca Island outpost. Seabirds darted about in the foreground of other distant yellow and orange cloud banks. The outpost was quiet save for the soft tropical breeze and the gentle surf that lapped against the crushed coral beach. He was thinking about the Americans.
Liu rested her head on his shoulder as she gazed upon the dramatic sky. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. She held his arm close, a gentle smile forming on her lips.
“Yes,” Bai acknowledged in a deep voice. Both were alert for patrol vehicles on the road and wished to remain hidden from the control tower across the runway. Personnel were not allowed on the beach after sunset, and no personnel were ever allowed to recreate on the runway perimeter road. Liu’s duty to check on the air traffic radar equipment gave her a reason to be there, and Bai could stow away in the vehicle to avoid detection. It would be dark in thirty minutes and they could be free, free to be themselves on the crowded outpost. Free to be themselves among 1.3 billion sets of prying eyes.
Across the runway, the narrow parking aprons were crammed with aircraft. Another J-11 squadron had flown down from Hainan, and five H-6s and four Y-8s took up all remaining real estate. Rumor had it that a J-15 Flying Shark squadron from the PLA(N) carrier Liaoning was en route to bolster the region’s defenses and expose the pilots to combat.
Bai hoped they went to the runway at Yawu Cay instead. We are tripping over ourselves in this sandy closet!
“Bai, when will you go home?” Liu asked.
Surprised at the question, he answered. “When our mission here is complete. We will defend the People’s Republic with all our strength until properly relieved by high command. Why do you ask this?”
“Mei Ling told me the 904 squadron must leave to make room for more airplanes coming from the mainland.”
Bai shook his head. “Mei Ling is a blathering ninny who knows nothing of strategy. It is not a woman’s place to discuss such things!”
“Please do not get angry with me, sweet. I only fear you leaving me.”
“We are not leaving,” Bai growled.
Liu returned her gaze to the western horizon. While Bai focused on the supply vessel, she saw nature’s beauty, as vast and endless as the sea and sky. Bai was tall and trim, with strong limbs and piercing eyes that conveyed a calm confidence she found irresistible. Any girl on the outpost — any girl in Dalian! — would be overjoyed to be on the arm of this handsome and courageous fighter pilot serving the People. And Bai was hers. She didn’t want this moment to end and dreamed of their future together, a future as beautiful as the tropical evening in this enchanted sea.
The sky darkened as the minutes counted down. Each knew they would not stay unnoticed by their comrades for too long. An hour… yes, they could make excuses for another hour. To the east, stars appeared next to a rising moon that stepped out from behind a column of cloud. Bai picked up a sound.
“Get down.”
Together they crouched behind the corrugated metal shack as a faint engine sound and the glow from a pair of headlights grew stronger. The sound of tires on asphalt increased as the roving patrol vehicle sped down the perimeter road. Bai peered around the corner as the headlights popped into view and pulled his head back. “Shhhh,” he said to Liu. She pressed closer with her head against his chest as if she could disappear from the snoopers.
The engine sound rose to a crescendo as the headlights illuminated the beach and sea beyond. The patrol passed the shack without slowing, red taillights fading into the darkness as it continued down the length of the runway. After a minute, Bai saw the patrol vehicle turn and enter the technician’s dormitory compound. They were alone again, for a moment at least. Bai helped Liu to her feet.
“I feel safe with you, Bai,” she said, hugging his waist as she listened to his heart beat through his cotton shirt. Bai held her as his gaze returned to the horizon, now a jagged pink line under dark gray buildups.
“Marry me, Bai.”
Bai wrapped his arms around her tighter, feeling the softness of her body pressing against him. Wisps of her long hair blew about his face. She wanted him, and he felt her trembling.
“Let’s go back to Dalian! We can lie together during the cold nights with our son. I will give you a son, a strong boy to grow up like you and care for us in our old age. And these days we can ask the Party for a daughter, one who will dote on you and honor you with grandchildren. Bai, I will be a good wife, subservient and pretty for you. Do you love me, Bai Quon?”
Bai kissed the top of her head and grunted.
“I love you so much, Bai! Your squadron is a heroical squadron in service of the People, and I know you are the most heroic pilot! You need a loving wife to help you relax from your difficult duties. Come!”