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Harper felt a rush of blood to the head and a sudden bout of dizziness overwhelm him. “What?”

He knew that two nights ago, aided by a hacker named Rasta-Man 872 who had since been elevated to Number One on the FBI’s cyber-crime ‘Most Wanted’ list, Alexander Langley had hacked into the Department of Defence database and stolen classified information relating to the Phoenix Project. But never in a million years would he have expected the former soldier-turned-diplomat to sell the information to America’s enemies.

“What did they get?” he demanded.

“Everything, Mister President,” the Secretary of Defense replied.

“The entire Phoenix file was downloaded by Chinese Intelligence,” Briggs elaborated. “The theory, the design schematics, the test history, everything.”

“The current operation?” Harper asked nervously.

Kane fixed eyes with him. “I’m afraid so, Mister President.” He opened a folder which he’d had perched on his lap and spread several satellite photos over the coffee table that sat between the three men. “NSA satellites took these images about thirty minutes ago.”

Harper rubbed his chin as he stared at the photographs, his heart racing. He knew roughly what he was looking at — ships in the water — but he looked up to Kane for an explanation.

“That’s the Shin Lang,” Kane said. Harper knew the Shin Lang well. China’s first aircraft carrier, bought from the Ukraine about fifteen years ago, had strained diplomatic relations when it was first launched in 2011. However, despite the state-of-the-art J-15 Flying Sharks which could be launched from her deck, China’s single, second hand carrier was no match for the eleven purpose built U.S. behemoths that prowled the waters.

“She’s been patrolling the Pacific ever since this whole Moon Mask crisis began, but now she’s underway to intercept our task force at her maximum speed.”

“She’ll be in range to launch her fighters in a little over two hours,” Briggs added.

“Mister President,” Kane said, a note of hesitation in his voice. “I strongly suggest recalling the task force to Pearl Harbour.”

“What?” Briggs snapped. “That’s ridiculous.” He looked at Harper. “Mister President, I hardly think one aircraft carrier is anything to worry about. We’ve got our own carrier with the task force. Not to mention our ships anti-aircraft defences are second to none.”

“I don’t doubt we can defeat them, Jason,” Kane replied heatedly. “But at what cost? Sir,” he glanced at the president. “If we engage the Chinese forces, there will be a substantial loss of American lives. Not to mention the political fallout.”

Briggs harrumphed irritably but Harper held up a hand to silence him. “What do you mean, Mick?”

“With all due respect, Mister President, we’re not talking about some minor skirmish here, a ruffling of feathers.” Kane knew he had to proceed carefully. “If we engage Chinese forces over the Pacific, we’ll be committing American troops to potentially the biggest seaborne battle since World War Two. And for what, sir? A science experiment?” He leaned forward in his chair, ignoring the incessant shaking of Briggs’ head, and stared hard at the President of the United States. “Sir, we’re talking about war here. Congress will not sanction a war based on the president’s personal desire to see a sixty year old science experiment come to fruition.”

Harper leaned back into his couch and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He tried to hide the fact that his hands were trembling. It had all gotten out of hand! If only the UNESCO Expedition hadn’t gotten word out to the U.N.! His team could have gone into Venezuela covertly, taken the mask and silenced the scientists without the world ever knowing it. They could have followed the clues themselves, tracked down the other pieces and finished what had been started over sixty years ago. But the secret was out. Diplomatic relations had collapsed, allies had become enemies, friends had betrayed friends. Militaries had been mobilised and while most of it had been kept from the public domain, enough people in the intelligence communities knew of the situation to do anything covertly. What happened out in the Pacific Ocean in the next few hours could decide the fate of generations to come.

Kane was right. Congress would never sanction military action of this sort.

“Recall the—”

“Mister President,” Briggs cut in. “We’re forgetting one very important thing here.” Harper looked at the CIA chief, his eyebrows pinched. “As it stands, the story we’ve fed to the public is that our ships are performing war-games in the Pacific. Nothing too unusual about that. Our own intelligence communities, as well as the U.N. Security Council, and even the men and women on those ships out there, know they are there to keep an eye on China following some ‘indiscretion’.”

“Where are you going with this, Jason?” Harper asked.

Briggs gestured casually with his hands. “The world will not frown on America if we are not the aggressors. If we are the victims of an unprovoked, surprise attack.”

Kane’s face reddened with anger. “Are you suggesting we don’t even warn our people out there?”

“If we warn them, the world will know we could have taken preventive actions, recalled our ships to base, diffused the situation. We’ll be villainised as the antagonistic party. But what if there were,” he shrugged casually, “breakdowns in communications between intelligence agencies? Blame it on some mid-level staffer who failed to pass the satellite feed onto the correct department. There’d be an enquiry, a few forced resignations. You’d give a speech about how the real tragedy of this situation is that our troops weren’t warned of the impending danger and promise to shake up the Intelligence services.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kane barked.

“It worked after 9/11,” Briggs shrugged.

“We’re talking about people’s lives here. American sailors!”

“They’ll still have their own early warning systems. Radar and what-not. They’ll have time to mobilise a defence.”

“You can’t be serious!” Kane was on his feet and for a moment Harper thought he was going to physically lash out at Briggs. “You’re talking about sitting around and doing nothing while watching as hundreds, even thousands of American sailors die!”

“But that’s just the beauty of it, Mister President.” Briggs leaned back in the couch, his body evidently as comfortable as his conscience. He blanked Kane and looked directly at his Commander in Chief. “If all goes to plan, those lives will never have been lost in the first place.” His smile was shark like.

Harper swallowed hard, biting his lower lip. “I want to speak to Gibbs,” he said.

Kane frowned. “Sir—”

“Now, Mick!” he demanded, his eyes hard. His decision made.

Airborne over the Pacific

“Hold for the President,” a female voice said into Laurence Gibbs’ radio.

He sat in the hold of the MH-53 Sea Dragon helicopter as it thundered across the Pacific, closing in on its target. The faces of the few surviving members of his team were hard and serious. O’Rourke, Lake, Garcia and he were all that remained of the eight that set out with the four scientists over a week ago.

The operator connected the call and President John Harper’s voice came through his helmet mounted radio.

“Laurie,” he greeted him. As the commander of the CIA’s number one SOG team, often referred to as ‘the president’s private guard’, he was used to taking orders directly from his C-in-C.

“Mister President,” Gibbs replied, wondering why he was calling. He had already spoken to the president to confirm the acquisition of the final missing piece of the mask and the eradication of Raine, King and Siddiqa. The president had been concerned about Nadia Yashina’s betrayal but Gibbs had assured him that the fake mask was of no concern. Stupid bitch!