The neutron bomb, also known as the “enhanced radiation weapon” is basically an H-bomb without the uranium-238 jacket used to increase the blast effect by absorbing neutrons. Without the dense jacket of U-238 to catch them, the neutrons are free to escape in much larger numbers than in a regular thermonuclear device. What makes the neutron bomb of interest to the military is that it is especially well suited to killing concentrations of tanks on a battlefield. Tanks are tough and can actually withstand the effects of a nuclear bomb — they are virtually crush-proof, so a nuclear bomb’s blast effect with its building-collapsing overpressure is not much of a threat — and they are highly resistant to heat. Instead, the neutron bomb’s enhanced flow of radiation efficiently kills tank crews within the small radius of blast and heat created by the explosion. A one-kiloton neutron bomb affects a fairly small area: a diameter of about two miles (three kilometers).
South of Taipei, the tankers within a kilometer of ground zero were killed outright, those further away got radiation sickness, some dying within a few days, others within two weeks.
For the Chinese on Taiwan, the neutron bomb held a particular attraction. First, it could be used to negate the Taiwanese advantage in armor in the early, vulnerable stages of the invasion before the Chinese could land their own armor in large numbers. Second, its effects were very confined and the fallout minimal. Were the PLA generals of the same mind as their 1980s NATO counterparts for whom the bomb was originally designed, there would be a final consideration: with enough warning and preparation, friendly troops could easily survive a close encounter with an enhanced radiation weapon by simply digging in. Unfortunately for the nearby PLA troops, their senior officers had no excess of humanitarian impulse — more than 2,000 PLA conscripts died in the three explosions along with more than 3,500 of their foes in 157 tanks and 256 armored personnel carriers. Complete surprise was deemed more important than sparing the lives of a few common infantrymen.
Moments after the dust from the third blast cleared, the PLA’s 10th Tank Division west of Taipei and the 12th Tank Division south of Taipei at Hsintien rolled into action. By the end of the day Taiwan’s 4th Armor Brigade would be the only mounted force standing between the Communist forces and the southern three-quarters of the island nation.
31
Gambit
The last two days were a strange mix of boredom and fear. There was little official business to demand Klein and Taylor’s time (the Chinese took the Americans’ satellite phones; Taylor’s two-way pager was their only link — and its batteries were running low).
The downtime led Donna to regard the general in a different light. At first she absorbed his mannerisms. He was calmly efficient. Whenever she came close to him, however, she noticed him tense up. With Lindley out of the way, they quickly became friends.
Over a Saturday breakfast of boiled rice, stale bread and tea, Donna asked Tim Taylor the question that had been in the back of her mind for half a year, “Tim,” the older man looked up from his plate, his pleasant, but distant expression quickly turned to discomfort, “At the war game when our eyes first met, what were you thinking?”
Taylor looked at Donna then looked away to his right, “I was thinking that you were a beautiful young woman. You, ah…” Taylor struggled with control, “you reminded me of my late wife and the first time I saw her. You kindled a feeling in me I thought I’d never have again. When I spoke to you after the first day though, I knew you were uncomfortable. I didn’t blame you. I’m old enough to be your father and you probably didn’t appreciate an old goat hitting on you. In any event, I am thankful for meeting you. You showed me I might still be capable of loving someone.”
Donna reached out and squeezed Taylor’s hands. She looked at him, “First of all, I was uncomfortable; I saw your wedding ring and I thought you were married. Secondly, my father is old enough to be your father. Thirdly, you weren’t ‘hitting on me’ and you’re hardly an ‘old goat.’” She squeezed his hands again.
Taylor looked at Donna, “Well, what do you say we get to know each other better?” He chuckled, “I know a great Chinese restaurant…”
“Do they serve rice and stale bread and have lousy service?” Donna smiled gently.
“Yes. But they have nice, private tables…”
By Saturday afternoon, Donna had spent eight solid hours talking with Tim (as she began to think of him). The war’s sounds occasionally intruded on their little universe. It was the longest period of time Donna had ever talked with any man without that man expecting a kiss — or something more.
Their blossoming friendship was forgotten briefly on Saturday afternoon when Tim told her he had received a communication on his message pager that the Chinese had detonated three small nuclear weapons south of Taipei. After that, their relationship took on a sense of urgency.
It was Sunday morning. Donna took it as a positive sign that the Chinese hadn’t returned to press their surrender demands for three days now—the PLA must have its hands full, perhaps they used the nuclear bombs in desperation.
As for Lindley, she figured he was only now recovering from the drugging she administered to him with Taylor’s help. She knew the drug’s aftereffects were painful, but she held absolutely no sympathy for the traitor.
A loud banging on the door ended the temporary break from their mission. “General Taylor,” the voice demanded in strong tones, “You and Ms. Klein are required to meet with Party Representative Fu within five minutes. Be in the hallway in three minutes and we will take you to him. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” Taylor yelled through the door.
“Do not be late.”
Taylor grumbled. All the tenderness Donna saw in him the last 24 hours vanished; the warrior returned. Donna was thankful for the seamless transition—there was serious work to be done now.
Donna grabbed her notebook and considered whether or not to take her microcassette recorder. She decided to take it and show it to the Chinese, asking for permission to use it to assist in transcribing the notes from their meeting.
She walked out into the darkened hallway, a half step behind Taylor. She could barely make out the figures of two Chinese military men at the end of the hall. “You come now! You must not be late!” bellowed the soldier to them.
Donna heard Taylor grumbling under his breath — she thought she heard something like, “Come now, my ass!” Fortunately, the soldier’s English wasn’t good enough to understand the insult.
The soldier, pistol raised, beckoned them towards the stairwell.
Donna leaned over to speak quietly into Taylor’s ear, “Are we really going to negotiate a surrender?” Even though they discussed it, Donna still refused to abandon hope.
“Of course. Let me put it to you this way: were we commanding troops out in the field in a militarily untenable situation we could negotiate terms of surrender. This situation is no different…”
“Except that the troops in question seem to have no desire to surrender,” Donna reminded the general.
Taylor was momentarily reflective, “Well, yes, we do have that minor consideration to contend with, don’t we?”
“Assuming we do arrange for acceptable surrender terms, how do we convince the soldiers to give up?”