Major General Wei walked into the room behind Fu just as Fu was about to open the charade. Fu held his tongue and his anger. After just a few intense days he was beginning to rely heavily on the intelligence officer — he knew Wei would not interrupt such an important event without good cause. Wei got close to Fu’s ear, “Sir,” he whispered, “the Americans have sent one of their attack submarines into the Taiwan Strait. It has sunk two of our ships. The Navy is trying, but it will be hard to sink. I thought you should know.”
Fu whispered back, “Yes, you are correct. Thank you general.” He cleared his throat and then spoke loudly for the cameras in Mandarin, “The Americans are jeopardizing the negotiations for the surrender of their forces on Taiwan by needlessly playing with fire. I am calling a break in the negotiations for two hours until the Americans become serious and desist all resistance on both the land, on and under the sea, and in the air around the sacred Chinese island province of Taiwan!”
The Chinese translator flawlessly and with excellent expression turned Fu’s words into English. Lindley looked frightened. Taylor held a blank face. Klein simply looked alert, her eyes methodically sweeping the room, looking for useful bits of information. Five tough looking Chinese security guards came into the room and escorted the American delegation back to their suite down the hall.
When the three Americans got back to their suite and the door shut behind them, Lindley wheeled on Taylor and screamed, “What the hell was that all about General?” Lindley’s veins stood out on his neck and forehead. Donna studied both men.
“General Taylor,” Donna said soothingly, “before you answer that I would like to remind you that we are not in a private location.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Taylor said, picking up a pad of hotel paper. He wrote in small letters, “We have a sub operating in the Strait. It probably sank something.”
When Taylor showed the note to Lindley, the National Security Council Advisor blew up, “Whose dumb ass idea with this? The President’s or did you dream this one up?” Lindley jabbed the General on his bemedaled chest.
Donna gently grabbed Lindley’s wrist and took the note from his clenched hand. She read it then looked at Taylor with an arched brow. She looked around for an ashtray to burn any further notes in before flushing the ashes down the toilet. “Gentlemen, I suggest we stick to our mission — the negotiations.” Donna knew that they were simply there to occupy the Chinese and stall for time until more force could be amassed, she only hoped she could keep her colleagues in mind of that.
Lindley shook his head and turned on his heels muttering under his breath.
“Why don’t we all relax for awhile? We’ve been up a long time and we won’t be sharp when we need to be,” Donna suggested. She thought of her role during the last minute—the junior to both of them, yet the peacemaker. Damn the lack of organization and rehearsal for this “diplomatic” mission.
While Fu let the Americans worry and wait, he consulted with Beijing on their next move. The leadership was obviously worried about the turn of events with the United States. More than the substantial amount of shipping the U.S. sub could sink, the symbolism of American resistance could rally Japan, South Korea, and other Asian powers to the U.S.-led opposition of China’s takeover of Taiwan. Clearly the Americans had to be made to back-down or be quickly destroyed. Beijing properly ascertained that the delegation now on Taiwan had no true authority to negotiate a general surrender of U.S. forces (those forces on Taiwan maybe, but a submarine at sea, never). The leadership directed Fu to “negotiate” for the cameras and the potential propaganda value, but otherwise to await word of further Chinese initiatives designed to force the Americans to give in.
All three Americans checked in with the “office” during their time out. All three did so on their mobile satellite phones. All three knew that their calls (at least the outbound voice portion) were being monitored by listening devices. Other than the fact that the Chinese were reluctant to deal with the Americans while the submarine prowled the waters off Taiwan, there was no news or new directives from Washington. One hour slipped into two. Lunchtime passed. Finally, at 2:00 PM, the famished Americans were served a modest fare in their suite.
At 3:14 PM, the Los Angeles claimed another victim, this time a 5,000-ton coastal steamer heading to Taiwan with a load of trucks and armored personnel carriers. The PLAN tried once again, unsuccessfully, to sink the attack submarine. The PLAN’s admirals debated whether to send their Kilo-class boats after the Americans, but decided it was better to keep the Kilos alive and a threat to complicate the Americans’ planning than to waste them on an enemy that was ready and waiting for them. The Chinese redoubled their efforts to find and sink the sub from the air.
Beijing was in a quandary. The war on Taiwan was going well. The generals estimated that within a week, ten days at the most, Taipei would fall and general resistance would cease. That is, if the Americans could be kept out of the war. The introduction of the attack submarine into the fight was a minor, but troubling inconvenience. The military experts knew that more American naval power would soon arrive and that, if nothing was done to check it, the Americans would choke off vital supplies and reinforcements just as victory was at hand. Bold action was needed to seize the initiative from the Americans and save the about-to-be-won victory from American meddling. The leadership made the decision to employ a special stratagem — a secret weapon that was carefully prepared for just this eventuality. A weapon that, if successful, would knock America out of the war and turn all of Asia into China’s docile back yard. The timing for the weapon’s employment had to be perfect to maximize its effect. The countdown started…
On Monday morning at 8:30 in Washington, D.C., the United States House of Representatives was gaveled to order. If most of the Members of Congress were sleepy from the hasty recall to the capital, they didn’t show it. The House chamber was abuzz with purpose and a sense of history. The motion to declare war had been drafted the day before in committee (highly unusual for a Sunday) and the rules of debate were decided upon. Each side would have four hours to debate the issue with a final vote scheduled for 7:00 PM. There were to be no amendments allowed — a straight up or down vote would be the order of the day.
The first Member rose to speak. He was a long-time Congressman from New York, very respected, and although not of the same party as the President, was known to be supportive of the Presidency in times of foreign crisis, “Mr. Speaker, I move to suspend the rules and pass the joint resolution to declare war on the People’s Republic of China, to support actions the President has taken with respect to Chinese aggression against Taiwan and to demonstrate United States resolve.”
The Clerk of the House read the resolution with a clear and unemotional voice, “House Joint Resolution 745.
“Whereas the Government of the People’s Republic of China without provocation on July 22 attacked United States Naval vessels in international waters, attacked United States Air Force air craft in international airspace, invaded and occupied the territory of Taiwan, has brutalized the population of Taiwan, and has disregarded the rights of diplomats, all in clear violation of international law and the norms of international conduct…”