0600 local (Zulu -8)
Operations Center
Hanoi, Vietnam
Bien ran his hands over his face, trying to erase the tiredness he was
sure showed there. Mein Low’s comments had kept him tossing half the night.
Participating in the Chinese strike on the American battle group was
unacceptable, yet the plan he’d presented to the American ambassador was
almost as risky. He’d awoken at 0400 and finally decided to go to the
Operations Center. It was better than lying in bed worrying.
After two hours of paperwork and staring at charts, he’d heard Mein Low’s
grating voice in the hallway outside his office. Seconds later, the Chinese
commander had entered his office without knocking, and was now helping himself
to tea from the hot plate on Bien’s credenza. And using Bien’s own mug. Now,
settled into a chair on the other side of the room, Mein Low fixed his
Vietnamese counterpart with a cold glare.
“You have two choices,” Mein Low said. His voice carried no inflection
to betray the least bit of emotion or weakness. “You may either execute this
plan as I have given it to you, or I will have you shot. I will proceed
thusly through your subordinates until I find one officer capable of obeying
orders. And should anyone disobey me while we are in the air, my deputy here
in the center will execute your men. Is that clear to you?”
Bien stared at the small Chinese general. So it finally comes to this.
Even though I have warned Ngyugen, and set all the necessary plans in place,
it is actually happening. Odd that I never really believed it would–that I
never understood how eternal and deadly the Chinese drive for dominance is.
Aware that the man was waiting for an answer, Bien nodded abruptly. “We
will follow your plan.”
“Eagerly, I hope.” The commander’s demeanor thawed slightly. “After
all, it is to your advantage as well to have the Americans out of the South
China Sea. Your country, of all those in this region, should understand how
devastating American attempts to intervene in Asian affairs are.”
Again, Bien nodded. And China is a more merciful alternative?
“As you see from the plans, your Flankers and Foxbats will lead the
attack on the carrier. It is our wish to allow Vietnam her rightful place as
a leader in the region, and since the battle group is closer to your coast
than our islands, we decided it was only appropriate that your aircraft lead
the strike. Much glory will accrue to you and your pilots if you succeed in
making the first direct strike on the American battle group.” Mein Low
smiled. “My forces will be immediately behind yours, to provide second strike
capability as well as vectoring and surveillance services.”
“We are, of course, honored at your trust,” Bien said smoothly, masking
his feelings behind a bland expression. Although you have neglected to
mention the real reason for placing us in the front–to make sure that we do
not waiver in our determination. With the Americans in front of us and the
Chinese behind us, we are truly left with no alternatives. As soon as the
Americans see the raid inbound, they will use their surface-to-air missiles.
Undoubtedly our faithful allies hope to use my forces as a missile sponge.
Once the American fighters engage, the Americans cannot risk their shipboard
weaponry. There will be too much danger of hitting their own aircraft. “And
your Flankers,” Bien continued. “What will their weapons load-out be?”
“Not just Flankers,” the Chinese commander said deliberately. “In a
gesture of friendship, we will be augmenting our normal complement of Flankers
with our most advanced aircraft. My own personal aircraft, the F-10, is being
flown south as we speak. I have had the responsibility for developing and
testing it, and I will now provide its worth in a strike. The details of
weapons load-out and fueling will be handled by our crews, as always.” He
shot a sharp, searching glance at Bien. “We will both fly this mission, of
course. There is no other way to lead men except from in front. We launch in
twelve hours. Our planes are ready now. Make sure yours are as well.”