General Chin bowed deeply from the waist. “Comrade Premier, I am reporting as ordered.”
“Do you have a status report for me, General?” Cheung asked in a surprisingly strong, loud voice.
“Yes, Comrade Premier…” He stopped, realizing Cheung couldn’t hear him, and raised his voice: “Yes, Comrade Premier. But I would prefer the briefing to be given… privately.”
“Please give your report now, Comrade General,” Cheung said.
“But sir, some of these men are not cleared for—”
“They are authorized, General. Please give your report.”
This was not a military briefing, Chin realized coldly — this was an inquisition. Obviously word of the battle of Davao had already reached the Premier — there was no use in trying to withhold any information now.
“Comrade Premier. First, I regret to inform you that the honorable commander of the People’s Liberation Army Navy South Philippines Task Force, Admiral Yin Po L’un, is no longer in command of the people’s forces near Mindanao. Until a suitable replacement has been designated, I have placed Admiral Lower Class Sun Ji Guoming, the Admiral’s Chief of Staff, in charge of all forces in the south Philippines. Admiral Yin… died an honorable death while engaging enemy forces in the course of his duties to the people.”
“Very tragic,” Cheung said. “He will be remembered as a loyal servant to the people of the republic.”
That of course was the proper response — in China, as in Japan and other Asian cultures, death by suicide was as acceptable a form of death as any other cause, even in this so-called enlightened society run by the Communists. Cheung, however, did not seem too upset by the news, although by his facial and body expressions Chin deduced that the Premier did not know about Yin’s sudden departure.
“The operation to capture Davao and the airport there is progressing; however, the American bomber attacks on our naval and Marine forces have been severe. Along with air-launched antiship missiles and long-range cruise missiles, the Americans reportedly used fuel-air explosives against Marine landing craft and soldiers entrenched on the beach — these weapons are many times more powerful than conventional explosives and create a devastating shock wave and fireball, very much like a nuclear explosion.” His words did not have the effect he desired — he was hoping the words “nuclear explosion” would inflame this audience a bit. They did not. “A second wave of attacks is now under way. Admiral Lower Class Sun reports that he is organizing antiaircraft defenses and can soon mount a defense of the people’s warships.
“I have a plan of action to counter the American bomber attacks that I would like to submit — to the Premier’s Cabinet and senior Party members — for your approval.”
“General Chin,” the Foreign Minister, Zhou Ti Yanbing, chimed in, “would it be possible for your forces to safely disengage and withdraw to… Puerto Princesa, on the island of Palawan, or perhaps even to Nansha Dao?”
“Disengage? Withdraw?” General Chin gasped. “Why would we withdraw? We—”
“—still have the advantage? Will capture Davao and Samar Airport without further serious loss of life? Will have a cursed navy after this conflict is over?” Zhou asked.
“We have weapons that we have not yet brought to bear,” Chin said. “We sought to control this conflict, to use ground forces and conventional weapons only. The Americans escalated the conflict by employing B-1 and B-2 bombers, Tomahawk cruise missiles fired from battleships and submarines, and with such terror weapons as fuel-air explosives. We should step up our efforts as well. I have outlined a plan where we may—”
“The conquest of Mindanao and our support for a puppet like Teguina is not worth a war with America or the loss of another capital warship,” Zhou said angrily. “I ask you again, General — can our forces safely withdraw to Puerto Princesa or Nansha Dao?”
“Do not speak to me of withdrawal!” Chin shouted. “You politicians can organize a retreat far better than I.” And Chin did something he thought he would never do to a living premier — he turned his back and left.
“If you leave now, General Chin, you leave as the former commander of the People’s Liberation Army,” Foreign Minister Zhou said. “The Politburo has already decided to open a dialogue with the Americans for an orderly withdrawal. You can be part of the process — or you can retire from your post and be done with it.”
Chin froze, then turned back to face the assembly before him. In a loud, clear voice, he said, “I command the most powerful army in the universe. I will lead them into battle — I will not lead them in capitulation.”
“You have already led them to defeat, General, you and Admiral Yin,” Premier Cheung said. “Will you not lead them in reconstruction and retraining as well? You can leave here known in history as the man who had a fleet destroyed in the Philippines — or you can be known as the man who led the People’s Liberation Army into the twenty-first century. The choice is yours.”
He knew that he should not accept this, Chin told himself. The honorable thing would be to leave this place and do as Yin did — put a gun to his head or a knife to his stomach and kill himself…
But he did not leave; instead, he stepped toward the conference table and seated himself.
No one was more surprised than he when the assembled politicians applauded.
If these idiots ever found out, Chin thought grimly to himself, that I ordered Yin to use nuclear weapons to destroy Davao, they would certainly not be applauding — they would be calling for my execution. Sun and the rest of Yin’s surviving flag staff would have to be bribed, exiled, or killed to ensure their silence, but that was an easy matter. General Chin Po Zihong’s power, his authority, were still safe… and with the blissfully ignorant best wishes of the government raining down upon him, Chin began to plot his revenge on Jose Trujillo Samar and on the Americans who had razed his forces so badly.
Yes, revenge…
It was daylight by the time Patrick McLanahan and Henry Cobb crawled out of their damaged B-2 stealth bomber into the already warm, humid tropical air. It seemed ten times stickier than usual — but to the two crew members, it felt like heaven.
The flight back from the Philippines was quiet, despite the damage they had sustained. The autopilot, electronic flight-control computers, and electronic stability systems were useless, and the mission commander’s side controls were inoperable, so the two crewmen took turns in the pilot’s seat — McClanahan flew the straight and level portions while Cobb napped, and Cobb flew the air-refueling hookups that they received every thirty minutes because of fuel leakage and the long overwater legs. The crew then spent another hour orbiting Guam while two-seat F-16 fighters with engineers and maintenance crews on board examined the damage to the flight controls and landing gear. Exhausted but riding yet another adrenaline rush, Cobb overrode all suggestions to eject and attempts to get more opinions from Stateside, and he made a picture-perfect landing at Andersen’s left runway. Somehow the damaged left landing gear held, and the Black Knight bomber was shut down at the north end of the runway, surrounded by fire crews.
Although McLanahan and Cobb climbed out of the plane on their own power, because of the observed damage to the Black Knight they were settled into gurneys and transported to a massive green tent set up near the flight line that acted as a triage center for returning crews. Doctors found Henry Cobb’s pulse and blood pressure sky-high, so he was ordered into a separate tent where crews that were well enough could be debriefed by intelligence officers while under a doctor’s care; that was when General Elliott found him and McLanahan shortly after he was taken there.