Taking the port and using it were two different problems. The city itself had no depth. There were only a few hundred meters of dense concrete buildings before the city gave way to heavily vegetated bluffs. The division commander could take the city in half an hour. To keep it, he’d have to secure the high ground on three sides. Finally, to keep the port open, both the east and west side of the harbor’s five kilometer long entrance would have to be cleared of the enemy’s heavy weapons. Then there was the historic fortress island of Peace, sitting squarely astride the Keelung Inlet, just like a cork in a very expensive bottle of brandy.
For years Peace Island and the hills surrounding Keelung Islet were strictly controlled by the ROC military. Now, as commercial interests grew and the iron discipline faded, those restrictions had been partially lifted. This allowed Mainlander spies the opportunity to carefully map many bunkers and emplacements in the strategic region. The general intended to make the Islanders pay dearly for their softness.
Still smoking mightily, the cruise ship entered the harbor. The fireboat tried to maneuver into place to begin to put water on the flame but the cruise ship pressed on, making 12 knots for the port. The captain of the ROC patrol boat on the scene was about to radio for back up when the E-bomb detonated, cutting off all communications between ship and shore.
Virtually helpless to stop such a giant vessel with his 30-meter patrol boat, the ROC captain decided to race ahead to warn the port authorities about the mad dog skipper. The patrol boat revved up and began pulling ahead of the cruise ship. The general resisted the temptation to destroy the vessel with the crew-served weapons he had attached to the deck and concealed by canvas coverings. Opening up on the pesky patrol craft would only offer a warning to the ROC Marines he knew were stationed in the hills. If he could get dockside with nothing more than some police to contend with (larger, missile-carrying patrol boats had been likely rendered incapable of firing their missiles due to the E-bomb), then Keelung would be his. He ran the timing in his head: the patrol craft could make it to port in a little under five minutes, while he could make it in about 14 minutes (assuming he slowed down a bit just before plowing into the docks). With a nine minute warning the Taiwanese could really do nothing more than offer small arms fire to stop him. He decided to let the boat go — he’d catch up to it later.
By now the general’s division staff and his commanders from the regimental level down to selected company commanders, 112 officers in all, were performing a mini leaders’ reconnaissance. Situated behind the cruise ship’s ample picture windows so as not to be seen from the shore, the officers took in the view of the terrain they were about to master. The general knew that even this cursory look would greatly enhance his leaders’ confidence and ability to prevail in battle.
Five minutes passed. The patrol boat ought to be reaching Keelung now. What would the captain say? Even with the tension of imminent combat, the general had to smile. That poor patrol boat captain would have a rough time explaining the situation — especially after the incapacitating agent burst overhead.
A few seconds later, over the bluffs on either side of the cruise ship, the general saw what looked like wisps of steam in the air as the incoming warheads burst open and spilled their canisters onto the ground.
Ten minutes passed. Keelung’s hills loomed above them on three sides. The port looked like it was hard at work, loading and unloading dozens of cargo ships. On closer inspection, however, the first glance was deceitful. On every loading dock and ship a few workers stood around, pointing at the steaming canisters.
The cruise ship captain began to slow the vessel and aim for an open quay.
From the ship’s port side, three patrol boats raced in on a course to intercept. On the ship’s bow, a fireboat and a tugboat closed in, one behind the other.
The general gave the order to prepare to land. The company commanders had already gone below to be with their men. All along the upper decks of the ship, canvas was pulled back to reveal crew-served weapons. The general thought this his best adaptation yet of the lessons of history — borrowing the idea from the famous commerce raiders of Germany and the American Confederacy. While the cruise ship had no protective armor, it fairly bristled with armament. The cruise ship was about 225 meters long. Its eight decks above the waterline and hundreds of cabin windows provided more than enough firing ports for 12.7mm Type-77 heavy machine guns and AGS-17 30mm grenade launchers. Reserving the upper decks for the heavier equipment, the general stationed an entire battalion of 18 37mm Type-74 anti-aircraft guns topside as well as an anti-tank battalion with Red Arrow 8 anti-tank guided missiles (the latter’s fiery backblast made it impractical to launch from within an enclosed space). His greatest idea was figuring out a way to secure and conceal three 122mm Type-83 towed artillery pieces to the small bow section. He knew his ersatz gunship couldn’t take punishment well, but it could sure dish it out.
One of the patrol boats fired its heavy machine gun across the cruise ship’s bow. Seconds later, hundreds of cabin windows popped out of the cruise ship and a massive volume of fire from no less than 50 machine guns and grenade launchers cut the patrol boat to pieces. While the other two patrol boats hadn’t responded, they too received the same treatment.
The fireboat and tugboat were a different matter. They came straight on where none of the ship’s heavy weapons could target them (the weapons on the upper decks couldn’t depress enough to hit the charging boats). The skipper of the fireboat had already been affected by the phenothiazine agent. He calmly aimed to ram the oncoming ship — unconcerned about the consequences that might bring on him and his beloved fireboat. The tugboat captain followed, also impaired by the chemical. He was simply following the fireboat, although he was having difficulty remembering why.
Between the bow wave a large ship makes as it moves through the water, and the narrowness of the bow itself, it’s hard to hit a ship head on in the water. Even if one tried, a glancing blow would be the more likely result. Recognizing this, the fireboat captain turned hard to starboard a few seconds before impact. The cruise ship’s forward momentum was slightly checked as it sliced the 35-meter long fireboat in two, sustaining minor damage to its bow in the process.
Seeing this calamity occur only 50 meters in front of him, the tugboat captain snapped out of his stupor long enough to steer his boat to safety. Unfortunately, this brought him within the view of the cruise ship’s gun crews who immediately destroyed his boat.
The general noticed three small ROC patrol craft tied alongside their naval wharf, just like intelligence said they’d be. There was no sign of activity on the boats. He told his operations officer to call ceasefire over the ship’s intercom. No point in wasting ammunition and causing more damage than necessary.
The cruise ship’s propellers were straining on full reverse as the ship ponderously scraped alongside the empty cargo pier, then smashed bow-first into the boardwalk at three knots. Combined with the damage from ramming the fireboat, this impact was enough to render the ship unseaworthy. This was of little importance now to the division commander — the ship had gotten his men safely to Keelung. If it sank in the shallow pier side waters it was no matter. The ship would still be useful as an artillery and anti-aircraft platform regardless.
If all went according to plan, the northern pathway to the heart of the enemy would be his in less than three hours.
In the American C-17 Globemaster, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander thought about the conversation he just overheard. U.S. Marines in the Taiwan Strait were observing a war brewing between Taiwan and China. And just as he was going to Indonesia as part of a UN mandate to bring peace and stability to that riotous land. Interestingly enough — as part of a UN mandate with full Chinese approval and cooperation. He wondered if more than a coincidence was at work here. Dan took off his headset to scratch his scalp. He heard a crackling sound. The hand holding his headset jerked as if it had been jolted by electricity. The cabin lights went out. Fortunately there was plenty of sunshine coming through the cockpit window. Just before he looked to see how Joe was doing, Dan noticed his arm hair was standing straight up. Curious.