Due to a variety of unforeseen circumstances, America’s leadership found itself confronting a very angry enemy on terms and timing not of American choosing. It would be at least two days before the first attack sub could be in place to interdict Chinese shipping. Beyond that, the nearest aircraft carrier battlegroup was a week away with reinforcements another week beyond that. America had few options — an early commitment to combat was a nightmare for the Administration. Now, the very public display of American resistance to the Chinese aggression put the policy makers in an even tougher spot. A retreat or surrender would be seriously questioned by the American public and further might erode support for any further action.
Continued resistance, if unsuccessful, would embolden the Chinese and demoralize the public anyway. They were damned either way. To top it off, the Chinese wanted a quick answer to their surrender demands.
The President turned to Lindley, “Bob, we need to send a negotiating team to Taiwan to deal with this crisis immediately. The team needs to be high enough ranking to deal on equal terms with the Chinese, but not so high that we risk embarrassment. The Chinese will accept a team of three. Who do we send?”
Lindley looked at his boss, “I think I should go as your personal representative…”
The President’s thoughtful demeanor seemed only a bit dulled by his lack of sleep, “Yes. Yes! And General Taylor can go as the chief military representative. Perfect!” General Taylor looked up from the table, resigned to the fate his C-in-C was giving him. “Who else?”
“How about Maus?” Lindley asked.
Taylor regarded the young staffer with a poker face.
The President’s eyes drilled into the table just in front of his resting hands. “No.”
Donna was uncomfortable with the real-time creation of the negotiating team in front of team’s potential members.
Taylor cleared his throat, “How about Donna Klein?” Most everyone in the room looked at the analyst with surprise. Lindley raised an eyebrow and turned to whisper in the President’s ear. The President nodded. The President pushed himself back from the table and got up, making his way up the narrow set of stairs to the hallway above.
Lindley addressed Donna, “Ms. Klein, can we see you in the hallway for a moment?” Lindley got up and walked upstairs.
The confined spaces of the Situation Room made it difficult for Donna to get quickly upstairs. Her heart raced as she picked her way through the tangle of legs and chairs. I hope everything’s okay. What could possibly be wrong?
She got to the top of the stairs and saw the President and his National Security Council Advisor standing there, shoulder-to-shoulder. Lindley spoke first, “Ms. Klein, I don’t think you should go to Taiwan with the negotiating team. You don’t have enough experience.”
The President’s face betrayed a bit of hesitancy with Lindley’s words. Donna took the offensive immediately, “I respectfully disagree. Thousands of more senior analysts failed to see this coming. I did. I think I know China’s objectives — how they’ll act. I’m the woman for the job.” Donna’s face was firm and confident. She looked straight at the President. He looked straight back at her, weighing his trust in the young CIA analyst.
The President’s gaze turned into a stare. He frowned and examined his fingernails for a moment, “Bob, I have to overrule you on this one. I still want Ms. Klein to go with you. I like her fire. The three of you will make a balanced team. Besides, she speaks fluent Chinese. If we can only send three people, you, Donna, and General Taylor are the three to send…”
Lindley started to protest.
The President put his hand on his aide’s shoulder, “Look Bob, my mind is made up on this one. I have to trust my instincts. I didn’t get to be President by always following advice.” The President smiled at Donna.
She never really liked the man — as a leader or as a person — but at that instant, she found herself engaged by his presence and his charm — and the fact that he overruled Lindley to make her part of the team. “Thank you Mr. President, I won’t let America down.”
Jones had just topped off the ammo compartment and tossed the seven empty shell casings out of the turret when Alexander climbed back on the tank. Alexander grabbed the antenna with the flag on it and untied it. No sense in advertising our position now that we know the Chinese want to fight. The commander connected his CVC helmet to the tank’s intercom system. “Driver, take us down to the end of the runway to the position we have there. Stay on the grass.”
Specialist Hernandez spun up the turbine engine and eased into gear. Traveller leapt from its muddy, shallow hole and smoothly closed the distance between its old fighting position and the one a mile to the east. Alexander was always amazed at just how fast and nimble a 60-ton M1 tank could be. The tank slowly rocked back and forth as it sped up to 40 mph, leaving a rooster tail of mud and churned up grass behind it.
Alexander unzipped his chemical protective suit a few inches and reached into his left breast pocket, pulling out the call sign cheat sheet. He palmed the little radio, “Sidewinder Five Niner, Sidewinder Five Niner, this is Thunderbolt X-ray, over.”
“This is Sidewinder Five Niner, over.”
“Give me your status and location, over.” The little radio’s reception was crisp and easily audible above the whine and clanking of the tank.
Lieutenant Mundell reported back, “I found my other scouts. They’re okay. I’m attaching one MP vehicle to each scout vehicle. I’ll visually control the other scout section. That gives me six Humvees total. I’m in an alleyway running into the north side of the airport, just about lined up on the center of the runway. I’ve seen about ten lightly armed Taiwanese security forces. I don’t see any enemy and I can’t hear any vehicles except for probably yours, over.”
“Roger, I’m heading for the east end of the runway. Recon Pingchiang Street and the bridge over the Keelung Ho River. I’ll be able to watch the Sun Yat-Sen Bridge. Report first contact, out.”
As they approached the other end of the runway, Alexander heard what sounded faintly like a freight train overhead. Behind him the earth erupted in dirt and fire — artillery! He slammed his hatch shut and pushed it back up to the open protected position.
The tank splashed into its easternmost pit (earlier in the day it rained at least an inch, if not more) and settled in. The tank’s profile was almost cut in half. Most importantly, its most vulnerable components, its treads, were safe behind a wall of dirt.
Alexander set to scanning about his new position. He did a 360 in the evening light with his eyes, then took control of the turret and swung it around, looking through the TIS on three-power magnification. What he saw next made his blood run cold. Atop the Sun Yat-Sen Bridge there were two tanks and an APC. The APC had a thin, long gun tube — probably a rapid-fire 30mm gun like the one on the American Bradley IFV (Infantry Fighting Vehicle). The vehicles were moving west, closing diagonally on his position from right to left. They careened in and out of the abandoned cars clogging the bridge, occasionally clipping some or pushing them out of the way. Just behind and hovering above the tanks he saw two helicopters, probably armored HIND-D helicopters carrying an array of anti-tank weapons. As the lead tank disappeared behind the freeway embankment, presumably taking the off ramp to the airport, another rapidly moving tank took its place on the far side of the bridge.