longingly of the feel of the evening breeze on his face. The last three hours
had not been pleasant, and it appeared that there was no immediate end in
sight to the uneasy forced partnership with their northern neighbors. He saw
the Chinese commander motion to him from across the room, and regretfully gave
up the immediate prospect of getting away from the Operations Center.
“It is time for that final conversation I mentioned,” Mein Low said
flatly. “This tactical situation must be exploited immediately.”
“How so?” Bien asked, wanting to buy some time and collect himself. He
knew all too well what his nemesis was referring to.
At his early-morning brief, Bien had studied the operational positions of
all the forces carefully. The American cruiser, Vincennes, was still
meandering around the northern portion of the South China Sea. While she had
not yet come close to the Paracels Islands, she was well within Tomahawk
strike range of the ragged collection of islands so close to the Chinese
mainland.
The battle group, centered around the USS Jefferson, loitered east of the
Spratly Islands, slowly patrolling east and west in a corridor that ran from
Mischief Reef to twelve miles off the coast of Vietnam. For the last ten
days, a lone E-2C Hawkeye had been stationed midway between the Vincennes and
the Jefferson, only sporadically accompanied by a U.S. fighter. The American
fighter patrols focused exclusively on the areas to the south, staying always
outside of weapon release range of the Spratly Islands. It was a strange
tactical dispersion, and the positioning of the fighters made little sense to
either the Chinese or the Vietnamese.
“The only explanation,” Bien said thoughtfully, “is that they are
attempting to avoid the appearance of interest in the Spratly Islands. By
staying out of weapons range, they believe that they can convince the rest of
the world that they are not behind these horrible attacks on the islands.” He
carefully avoided referring to the islands as Chinese. That issue would be
resolved later, although Vietnam had little chance of opposing China without
outside assistance.
“A futile gesture.” Mein Low shrugged. “After all, you yourself have
investigated the facts behind the attacks. It was not China, and it certainly
was not Vietnam. Who else could be responsible?”
And now comes the most delicate part of this strange dance between our
countries, Bien thought. How am I to convince you that we believe your story,
when past experience would persuade us to believe the opposite? If you told
me the sun had risen this morning, I would be forced to go check for myself
before I believed you!
“As you say–who else could be responsible?” Bien murmured. “Perhaps the
stealth technology we have heard about, or a submarine-launched Tomahawk? Or
even their special operations forces? The possibilities are too many to fully
explore.”
The Chinese commander leaned back in his seat, apparently satisfied, Bien
noted.
“So far, they have limited their attacks to our outposts,” he said,
apparently broaching a new topic. “However, should your negotiations for
normalization of international relations and trade concessions falter, do you
truly believe that they would abstain from attacking your forces as well? Let
us be frank with one another–while neither of us is willing to acknowledge
the other’s claim to this territory, we are both certain that the Americans
have no justifiable interest here. Correct?”
“Of course,” Bien said.
“Then it is to the advantage of both to ensure that the Americans leave
this region. Permanently.”
“It took us twenty years of war to convince them to go home last time,”
Bien said softly. “Can we dare hope that it would be easier now?”
The Chinese commander nodded vigorously. “It should be, thanks to that
very same tragedy. That is the other reason that cooperation between our
countries is so appropriate at this time. It is Vietnam’s sacrifices that
will make this plan work. The result of your prior disagreement with the
Americans is that they have no tolerance for loss of life. It must be very
comforting to your people that your losses will finally be revenged.”
“And the plan?” Bien pressed.
“At the right time, my friend. At the right time. Now,” the Chinese