“Thank you, sir.” Only distracted for a second by her lingering attraction to Taylor, Donna became completely focused on the crisis at hand.
The admiral, white haired, but otherwise young looking, cleared his throat and began, “There is no new information of significance out of Taiwan since we first detected the Chinese attack two hours ago. We have not reestablished contact with the Belleau Wood Amphibious Ready Group. An hour ago we dispatched an already airborne RC-135 reconnaissance aircraft based in Okinawa to investigate. A few minutes ago it was intercepted by three Chinese fighter aircraft just inside the north entrance to the Taiwan Strait. They demanded that the RC-135 turn around. Our aircraft is returning safely to base.”
Donna looked around. She was the only civilian in the room. She decided to say something, “I trust the aircraft was over international waters in an approved air corridor?”
The admiral wasn’t used to being interrupted on his stage, “Why… Yes, of course.”
Donna’s face flushed with anger, “Turning around was a mistake, a huge mistake. We have now set precedence that the Chinese can close the Taiwan Strait to legitimate air or sea traffic. We have also shown them that we are a paper tiger. Who ordered the aircraft to turn back?” Donna said the last accusingly. It was bad enough she didn’t see this war coming until it was too late. Now her error was being compounded by others.
The admiral looked Donna straight in the eye, “The White House.”
Donna paused, “Buildings can’t order anyone to do a damn thing. Who at the White House? The President?”
Taylor stiffened slightly in his seat.
The admiral was trumped, “I… I don’t really know. The pilot radioed his situation to CINCPAC. CINCPAC called up the chain of command. No one would take responsibility for provoking the Chinese into an open conflict so the ball was passed to the White House. That’s all I know. Besides, our latest guidance specifically dictates a hands-off policy on Taiwan.”
“Where were you General?” Donna asked quietly.
“Unfortunately the secure comm link in my car went down on the way in…”
Donna slumped in her chair and mumbled, “What is this, the amateur hour?” She sat forward and turned to Taylor, “General, on a Friday night, who’s minding the store over at the White House?”
“Probably some mid-level NSC functionaries — many of whom come from this building.” Taylor knew where Donna was taking him.
“Do you think they could use some reinforcements? After all, what can we do here? We can get information all the same here or there. What matters most now is what is done with that information. Besides, you’re the President’s second-ranking military advisor.”
“Right, and the Chairman’s in Kosovo visiting the troops. Let me make a call.” Taylor got up to use one of the room’s many secure phones.
The admiral stood ignored behind his podium.
Donna spoke, “Admiral, the Belleau Wood Amphibious…”
“…Ready Group.”
“Thanks. What is that?”
“Today it is a force of four naval ships, it has three amphibious assault ships and an Aegis-class destroyer. It is a self-contained fighting force of about 2,200 Marines and support aircraft.”
“What is U.S. policy in the event of an unprovoked attack on the high seas?” Donna asked.
The admiral replied, “U.S. forces have the right to defend themselves without orders from Washington.”
“Do we know how far the Belleau Wood was from Taiwan when the Chinese attack began?”
“Of course, they were 14 miles off the southern coast of Taiwan in international waters. I can give you an exact location…”
“Admiral,” Donna looked squarely at the officer, “If you were the commander of that task force and you were attacked by China, what would you do?”
“Defend myself and turn around and head for the open ocean.”
“And if you were too heavily damaged to flee?”
The admiral winced at the word “flee” and said, “If I was badly hit I suppose I’d seek safe harbor on Taiwan.”
“We have to find out where those ships are ASAP. Not knowing puts us at a disadvantage.” Donna sat stroking her chin.
Taylor hung up the phone and turned towards Donna, “Let’s go! The White House wants us over at the Situation Room right away.”
Donna smiled weakly at the admiral and softly said, “Quite talkative for a house, isn’t it?”
Donna had never before been in the White House, not even as a tourist. The Situation Room, at least the one she was shown into, was a small hole in a subfloor of the White House’s West Wing. It had one large rectangular table with enough room to seat a dozen people. Behind the chairs at the table were another set of chairs pushed up against the wall. There was so little room between the chairs, that if both rows were occupied, no one could maneuver between the chairs without stepping over people’s knees. Donna was shocked at the small size of the meeting room — not at all like the public perception of the White House.
The room was dominated by two televisions, one was turned to CNN, the other, MSNBC — a tribute to the immediacy of modern news gathering organizations. Curiously, neither network had caught on to the war that had just ignited in the Taiwan Strait.
Donna recognized the faces of the National Security Council Advisor as well as two of the three young NSC staffers. Very junior team—not good.
Bob Lindley, the NSC Advisor was dressed in a tux and still had on a bow tie. The social obligations of the well-connected, Donna thought, I hope he hasn’t had too much to drink. He hung up one of the five phones on the table and turned to the CIA staffer and the Defense Department official, “Thanks for coming over, we can use your assistance right now.” His voice was clear and strong.
She wondered where some of the other NSC personnel were. She knew many of the civilian staffers had already left the Administration, now in its last half-year of life, to seek jobs in academia, banking or business. That would leave much of the NSC’s work to military personnel assigned to the White House. With the famously low level of mutual confidence between the military and this White House Donna calculated that a military staffer here rated just above a White House gardener and just below an intern on the pecking order.
Klein and Taylor edged between the chairs to take their seats opposite the NSC chief.
Lindley looked at Donna, then asked Taylor, “Who’s your colleague?”
“Donna Klein, CIA, China desk.” Donna spoke in a measured staccato.
“Excellent. What does Defense know about the situation so far?” Lindley was very cool, almost too cool for the potential enormity of the events.
Taylor began, “When we last spoke less than 15 minutes ago my understanding was that the White House had all the data we did. We’ve been in transit since then. Has there been anything new?” Taylor looked at the NSC staffers.
“Nothing,” the senior staffer replied, “We really don’t have a grasp on the situation in China yet. We were focused on the situation in Kuwait. The Iraqis just seized three Kuwaiti border crossings. At least one Kuwaiti border guard was killed.”
Another staffer volunteered, “And North Korea is heating up as well. Maybe the Chinese are conducting a feint to draw our attention away from a potential North Korean invasion of South Korea.”
Donna’s stomach tensed. Time was wasting away; decisions needed to be made. “Look, gentlemen, the actions by Iraq and North Korea are in support of China’s actions, not the other way around. I believe we know enough. First, we know that the PRC has launched a large-scale assault on Taiwan using nuclear weapons…”