“An attack on Taiwan, yes,” Viens agreed. “But they are also ERPs for an attack from Taiwan.”
“The PLA can’t believe that Taipei’s maneuvers are the beginning of an offensive,” Herbert remarked. “Beijing may just be getting ready to drill in response, or immediately after.”
“They rarely do that,” Viens pointed out. “The chance for a mishap with two opposing forces in the field is too great. All you need is someone on either side looking to provoke a fight.”
“Maybe it’s rare, but that is obviously what is happening,” Herbert said. He looked at a few of the Taiwan images. “Taipei has nothing unusual in the pipeline. No extra planes or ships being readied. Obviously they do not expect a Chinese attack.”
“You’re right. So why would Beijing move forces into position?” Viens asked. “Why now?”
“Maybe they assume the nightclub explosion may have made everyone in Taipei a little edgy,” Herbert suggested.
“Edgy as in looking to retaliate?”
“It is possible,” Herbert said. “Maybe they think the Taiwanese could ‘accidentally’ fire a shell toward Shanghai during a drill or lose a mine in Chinese shipping lanes or fishing waters.”
“Something that is not aggressive enough to start a war but would allow Taipei to win face.”
“Exactly,” Herbert said. “Or the PLA preparations could have nothing at all to do with the Taiwanese deployment. Beijing may be looking to scramble assets in case the rocket goes haywire. They may need to recover the payload and seal off a section of the sea.”
“Because the satellite has a plutonium power source,” Viens said.
“Yeah.”
“The Taiwanese always go through maneuvers when there’s a Chinese rocket launch or missile test,” Viens said. “The Chinese military action could have nothing to do with the rocket per se.”
“That’s possible,” Herbert agreed.
Both men were silent as Herbert looked through the pictures a second time. He did not see a national effort throughout the mainland. At other naval bases and airstrips visible along the fringes of the photographs it was business as usual. Of course, that could change quickly if hostilities erupted.
“What would happen if the rocket blew up on the launch pad?” Viens asked.
“There would be a bunch of job openings in Beijing,” Herbert replied dryly.
“With the military, I mean,” Viens asked. “Would they be needed to keep order in a power vacuum?”
“The loss of the prime minister and a few ministers and generals would not have that serious an impact,” Herbert said.
“What if Taiwan were responsible for that kind of an explosion?”
“Then the PLA might very well strike back,” Herbert said. He shook his head. “You know, Stephen, the more I look at these, the more I wonder if we are being sucker punched.”
“How do you mean?”
“There’s no activity at the Dinghai or Nantong naval bases. None at all. It’s the opposite of business as usual. It’s the same at the air bases in Shanghai Longhua and Wuhu.”
“Suggesting what?”
“You ever watch police put down a riot?”
“No,” Viens admitted.
“The frontline guys come in to try to control the perimeter. They use hoses, maybe some gas, nightsticks. That takes some of the steam from the rioters. Then the heavy-duty troopers arrive from vans with shields, body armor, rubber bullets. They don’t slip that stuff on in public. They do it in private, then they really tear into the main body of the assault.”
“You’re saying these other bases are arming in hangars and dry dock?” Viens asked.
“I am saying they could be,” Herbert suggested. “Considering how I’ve been mucking about the last two days, getting nowhere, I would not put a whole lot of faith in that.”
“What kind of action would primary and secondary military strikes be considering?” Viens asked. “Who would be the rioter?”
“I don’t know. But now you’ve got me thinking the rocket could be a precipitating event somehow.”
“Or at least a participating event,” Viens suggested. “If it isn’t the trigger, it could be a distraction. Like a magician getting you to look the wrong way when he does a trick.”
“Possibly.”
“Well, it seems worth presenting to the new chief,” Viens said. He leaned closer. “How is she?”
“You haven’t had your audience yet?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Is that what it is? An audience?”
“When a grunt meets with a general, you don’t call that a meeting,” Herbert said. “We shook hands, but it might as well have been a salute.”
“Formal?”
“Rigid and commanding,” Herbert said. “I get the impression that until proven otherwise, we’re all grunts.”
“Without the job security,” Viens said.
“I think Madam Director wants to test our mettle under fire before she makes any decisions,” Herbert said.
“Madam Director,” Viens repeated. He chuckled anxiously. “You remind me of my grandfather Jacques.”
“How?”
“He used to tell me stories about the Reign of Terror and how the instrument of justice was called ‘Madame la Guillotine.’ It was a title of respectful fear, not genuine regard.”
“Let’s just hope your analogy is a bad one,” Herbert said. He was still looking at the photographs. “This is good, Stephen. I’m going to bounce these scenarios off Paul and Mike and see what they say.”
Viens lingered. “It sucks,” he said.
“What does?”
“We’ve got surveillance in space, we’ve finally got HUMINT resources in the target area, Op-Center is lean and focused and fully functional — and we’re worried about our future.”
“No. We’re anticipating being worried about our future,” Herbert said. “We have to screw this operation up first.”
“Good point,” Viens said. “Well, I’m all thought out. I’ll keep an eye on the satellites and see what else they can tell us.”
The NRO liaison left, and Herbert tossed the pictures aside. He was frustrated, not just by the Chinese game plan but his own distraction with office politics. There was conflict and occasional drama under Hood, but that was easier to manage than not knowing where you — or the boss — stood.
It was the difference between democracy and tyranny.
It was the primary reason people rioted.
And it occurred to Herbert then, with a realization that chilled his neck, that General Carrie might only be the first wave of whatever was coming here.
FORTY-THREE
The People’s Liberation Army Naval Flight Unit was based at the Shanghai Dachang Airbase. Thirty-one-year-old Lieutenant Commander Fa Khan was proud to be here, though he knew that assignment to Dachang was considered less prestigious than deployment at the Shanghai Jiangwan facility.
The two airfields were neighbors. Their importance had nothing to do with proximity to the coastline or to the heart of Shanghai. Jiangwan received more funding and the newest aircraft and radar because of ancient family ties between key military officers and members of the government.
Prestige was much less important to the pilots of each base. They saluted one another whenever they flew close enough to have cockpit visual contact. To them, the pride was the shared honor of being the homeland’s first line of defense.