Lieutenant Joffe motioned to Major Lon to commence firing. For the past ten minutes Joffe had been relaying detailed coordinates to Lon who, in turn, instructed his artillery officers as to elevation and type of ammunition to use. Lon commanded twenty-five 105mm howitzers. They could lob a shell 10 kilometres that would make a crater 3 metres in diameter on impact. In addition to the guns he had three batteries of multiple rocket launchers of a similar capacity. One after the other the big guns fired, interspersed with the woosh of the rockets. Together they hurled a deadly mix of high-explosive charges for the `hard' Chinese targets, such as the tanks and trucks and armoured personnel carriers, and an assortment of projectiles with variable time-fused munitions that exploded in the air, unleashing wave after wave of shrapnel upon the advancing Chinese infantry. In near real time — with seconds' delay — the French satellites monitored the fall of shot and allowed for target corrections to be passed via Lieutenant Joffe to Major Lon. Many hundreds of Chinese fell where they stood. The pinpoint accuracy of the French `firing solutions' enabled the Vietnamese to take out some of China's prized armour developed after the Gulf War to perform better than the tin cans Beijing had sold Saddam to fight his war against Kuwait. The Chinese commanders did not know which way to turn. With their battlefield management systems inoperable they resorted to voice communications. But again the Vietnamese were ready. They homed in on the Chinese radio traffic, recording it and replaying back on the same frequency but with a half-second delay. The result was that all the Chinese commanders could hear was gibberish; likewise their commanders in Nanning and posts closer to the border. Faced with no means of communication the commanders on their own initiative began to retreat, but as those who survived the initial barrages of shells and rockets tried to go back the way they had come they met fresh troops coming towards them. It was chaos. Unfortunately for the Chinese the concentration of men and machinery this confusion produced simply provided larger targets for the Vietnamese.
In the first battle for Lang Son — the one President Wang participated in — the Chinese captured the town for the cost of 20,000 lives before they retreated across the border. This time the invading army didn't even make it to the town gates. Without even seeing a Vietnamese soldier, let alone killing one, the Chinese, in the space of five hours of concentrated and constant artillery barrage, lost 25,000 men — either killed outright, injured, or missing. Of the 250 battle tanks that entered Vietnam that day only 85 returned. 25,000 men made it across the border, harried and badgered by the Vietnamese Army all the way home.
The Japanese Ambassador's Nissan President drew up in front of the Foreign Ministry ten minutes before his meeting with Jamie Song. Hiro Tanaka was a stocky man in his early fifties. He was a fluent Mandarin speaker who came from a long line of Japanese sinologists: his grandfather was a senior official with Japan's South Manchurian Railway Company, which was the colonizing power in north-east China during the 1930s and 1940s; his father was an army intelligence officer based in Shanghai. Tanaka, and a First Secretary from the embassy who would take notes, climbed the stairs to the Foreign Ministry and entered its somewhat musty interior. Inside another flight of steps greeted the visitors. These were covered with a light brown carpet and led to a suite of rooms, each more magnificent than the other, where Foreign Ministry officials met visiting diplomats and journalists. Tanaka and his official were shown into a medium-sized rectangular room. Along its walls were upholstered armchairs and in between them were tables with ashtrays and space for the ubiquitous blue and white mugs in which Chinese officialdom served green tea. The room was sparsely decorated although one wall was dominated by a painting of blossom that was badly executed but typical of the somewhat flaccid style favoured by China's post-Revolution leaders. Typical also of the room was its appalling overhead lighting. Light globes in Chinese official buildings are unique for their ability to shine but illuminate little. The room was unremittingly gloomy, though well heated.
The door opened. Jamie Song and his retinue swept into the room. Curt bows preceded handshakes and a gesture to take a seat. An assistant to Song handed the Foreign Minister a piece of paper. Song studied it for a while, looked up, and then began to speak.
`Ambassador, you have been summoned here to receive my government's formal protest at your government's nuclear test earlier today. It is a measure of China's horror at Japan's action that I, rather than the Vice Foreign Minister for East Asia, am delivering this note.
`The government of the People's Republic deplores in the strongest possible terms the decision by Japan to explode a nuclear device. The Chinese government has always stood for nuclear disarmament and has strenuously opposed the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. The decision by Japan to detonate a 50 kiloton device at a facility in the Ogasawara Islands is a retrograde step and can only increase tensions in the Asia-Pacific region. At a time when China is defending its sovereignty in the South China Sea such a test can only be treated as a hostile act.
`The Chinese government calls upon Japan to renounce the use of nuclear weapons, to uphold the Japanese constitution and renounce war as a sovereign right, and to explain to the international community its reasons for this criminal act.'
Song look up. His face was expressionless. Tanaka, who knew a thing or two about looking impassive, returned his gaze, and held it.
`I shall report your views to my superiors in Tokyo,' he began. `But I am also instructed by Foreign Minister Kimura personally to deliver a note myself. The government of Japan deplores the warlike actions of China in the South China Sea, actions in contravention of accepted international behaviour and in violation of international law. In particular my government views with the utmost seriousness the sinking of the USS Peleliu, a ship belonging to a friend and ally of Japan, engaged on a humanitarian mission. There can be no justification for this act of international terrorism. My government will render any and all assistance the United States requests.
`The government of China must pull back from this adventurism in the South China Sea, to seek a compromise with interested parties, and to return to the path of peace which the world has the right to expect. The government of Japan stands ready to defend its vital interest.'
The two bombs that tore through the international transit lounge at Seoul airport killed 87 people and injured more than 200. They exploded six minutes apart with such horrific force that part of the building collapsed, crushing many of the victims. Another 150 people died when aircraft were wrenched away from their boarding bridges. The fuel tanks of one exploded, sending searing hot metal and fireballs across the runway. Everyone on board that Boeing 737 died. A Boeing 757 was engulfed in flames, although many passengers were able to escape because the aircraft doors at the side were still open. Throughout the terminal, panic led to stampedes and further death, with people being crushed on staircases and in doorways as thousands headed for the freezing open air where they believed there would be safety. But out there the North Korean commandos had set up a suicide killing squad. The crowds were raked with machine-gun fire. Hand grenades exploded, the shrapnel tearing into the bodies of innocent women and children. As South Korean troops moved in, the gunmen became more and more determined. One ran from his hiding place, spraying bullets from two submachine-guns before being cut down. Another fired grenade after grenade. A third shot dead 4 South Koreans before being killed himself. It was never known how many North Koreans were involved in the attack, nor if any escaped. 11 were eventually killed. None was captured alive. 403 people died during the attack. Another 23 died from their injuries over the next day. The airport, which had opened less than two years earlier, was shut down. North Korea had achieved its goal to terrorize the people and strike at the heart of its enemy's economy.