Tiwari considered that. He was no fool. He knew exactly what the extrapolations were for this war. It could go nuclear at any point from here on. The Indian Army in the east near Sikkim had an entire Corps now preparing to finish off the Chinese presence in the Chumbi valley. There was no saying how Beijing would respond to that.
A wounded dragon in the corner could be a very dangerous beast!
“Very well, sir,” Tiwari replied finally. “I will forward your offer to my government for consideration. But I will say this: if you plan to talk to Beijing today, make sure they understand that rhetoric on the willingness to use nuclear weapons in their state media will not be tolerated if any such meeting is to occur. Our people will not be open for negotiation under a nuclear threat. Beijing would be sadly mistaken if they doubt our resolve to turn the Chinese mainland into radioactive rubble if the situation demands.”
The wounded dragon in the corner could be a dangerous beast, but the elephant’s tusks were no less sharp!
Bogdanov nodded agreement and glanced at Tiwari as the Indian man picked up his file and prepared to leave. He thought he saw something on the corner of the man’s mouth: a smirk that existed for merely a second and then disappeared. Bogdanov thought he saw something there.
Confidence…?
“This makes no sense whatsoever, sir.”
“Did you expect any different, Feng?” Wencang said from behind the desk in his office.
Chen sat on the comfortable sofa lined up along the side of the wall away from the desk. He was looking at the wall covered in Wencang’s citations and pictures from over the years. Chen was in many of those pictures alongside his longtime friend.
Feng looked at his mentor and saw a neutral face. Chen had always been good at controlling his inner feelings and thoughts. And he would never publicly go against Wencang, regardless of the informality between them when they were alone. But Feng was having a hard time believing what he had been told about the CMC meeting earlier that morning…
“We are scapegoats, Feng. Nothing more,” Wencang continued. “Peng needed somebody to take the fall for what has transpired over the last two weeks. General Jinping and Zhigao were only the first to go. When the Indians snatched the skies over southern Tibet from us, it was only a matter of time for us. The only people in uniform who can still hope to claim any sense of authority with the party now are the ones whose hands are not yet blooded by battle and those that seem to be above any guilt, including Generals Yongju and Liu.”
“Although that seems more and more unlikely as time passes,” Chen said from where he sat, leaning comfortably on the sofa after having loosened his coat buttons.
“Indeed,” Wencang said as he picked up his glass with three fingers of whiskey still glistening gold under the office lighting. He considered drinking it while still in his office and still nominally in command.
Well, time to enjoy the privileges of rank while they last!
He emptied the glass in one gulp and looked around to Chen and Feng’s disapproving eyes. But neither man said a word. He turned to Chen while putting the empty glass back on his desk.
“So Chen, it would interest you to know that Admiral Huaqing is no longer with us in the mortal world. I got the news before you two came in. He was arrested by the chief commissar and taken away for questioning. I guess Peng changed his mind on him after we all left.”
Chen grunted a laugh. He was not surprised by that.
“When is our turn?”
“Not yet,” Wencang replied. “The committee still needs senior and experienced air-force commanders. Why do you think we are still here? Yongju convinced Peng to change his mind about the two of us. Though I think Liu would have liked nothing better to see us lined up against the wall!” Wencang laughed fatalistically. It made Feng uneasy. Wencang controlled his laughter and then continued:
“We are still no longer allowed inside the committee but are still in charge of the people’s air-force. Anyway Feng, what is the status on operation Punitive-Dragon?”
Feng checked his wrist-watch. “It begins within three hours, sir.”
“Good. It will go ahead as planned,” Wencang ordered
“Yes sir. Although I am a bit concerned about the new forces. They are as yet inexperienced against the Indian combat pilots,” Feng replied.
“You think they cannot do the job, Feng?” Chen asked.
“They can do the job, General,” Feng said calmly. “I know the commander of the Regiment who’s leading the operation. Rest assured, he will get the job done. I am worried about casualties, though.”
“Nothing can be done about that, Feng. And you know it!” Wencang concluded unilaterally. “Besides, tell our men that they are going after the Indians who facilitated the brutal attack on Golmud. That will get their blood flowing!”
“Yes sir, I have already made sure of that. The men are motivated,” Feng said confidently. He had in fact had the same idea as what Wencang had just proposed. What’s more, it was true.
“Very well. Consider yourself dismissed, Senior-Colonel,” Wencang said. “Oh, and tell the pilots that the commander of the air-force has full confidence in their abilities!”
Feng saluted and walked out of the office, leaving the two Generals sitting inside. Once the door was closed, Wencang leaned back in his leather chair.
“He’s a good field commander, Chen,” Wencang noted as he stared at the roof. “I would have put his name for promotion above the other untested commanders for replacing you as commander of the unified-MRAF in case the both of us are… what’s the word for it?”
“Deposed?” Chen offered. Wencang laughed.
“I will take it. Yes, when both of us are deposed. But as it stands, my recommendation now might actually doom that man rather than help him. He might find himself alongside the same brick wall as us!”
“Let his operational record speak for itself,” Chen suggested. “If Punitive-Dragon succeeds, it will be all the feathers in his cap he will need to survive this war.”
“Indeed,” Wencang agreed. He leaned forward from his chair and rubbed his eyes with both hands. Perhaps the tiredness of two weeks of war was catching up with him, he thought. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Either way, his own mortality was flashing before his eyes as he wondered his fate and that of his colleague sitting across the room.
“Chen, how did we get here? What went wrong with our plans? What more could we have done to ensure victory instead of this sinking quagmire towards nuclear war?” Wencang muttered. Chen did not respond because the question was rhetorical and self-reflective. “My friend, did we do our duty towards the people of China?”
To that Chen did reply: “Yes. We did.”
“You think it will send the message?” the PM asked. The voice of Air-Marshal Iyer came through on the phone a few seconds later:
“Yes sir, I think it will. If the rumblings we keep hearing are true then this is an effective counter-force response.”
“But I want to make clear that we suspect this might happen. We really don’t know for sure, do we?” the PM continued. Chakri stared in silence across the conference table. After a second he leaned towards the phone: