But those could be defeated.
He hoped.
Overhead, US Air Force AWACS aircraft directed a section of F-22 interceptors toward the recently scrambled Chinese fighters.
“Fifty miles until weapons release.”
“Roger,” said Suggs.
“Oh shit, look above us. The Raptors have started shooting.”
Suggs glanced upward. Through his tinted visor and the cockpit glass of his F-18, he could see the contrails of F-22 Raptors, and faster-moving contrails of their long-range air-to-air missiles.
“Twenty-five miles until launch. Your exit heading is going to be zero-three-zero.”
“Zero-three-zero, roger.”
Suggs snuck a glance back up at the air-to-air battle unfolding forty thousand feet above them. An impossibly large number of contrails now approached from the opposite direction, scattering flashes of yellowish light. At first Suggs thought the Chinese jets had opened fire, but he realized that he was witnessing the F-22’s missile explosions as they reached their targets. The distant explosions reminded him of fireworks ripping into a thousand little bursts during the grand finale. Beautiful violence.
On the external comms, Suggs heard his squadron commanding officer, the rear-seat aviator in the lead aircraft, say, “Gunslinger flight, fire at will.”
His weapons systems officer depressed the weapons release button, saying, “Bruiser one away.”
He felt the aircraft shudder as the heavy weapon fell off the wing mount.
“Bruiser two away.”
Another shudder.
Two missiles fell from each aircraft, momentarily keeping speed, suspended below their jet. The missiles then extended winglets as their engines kicked on. Suggs watched as hundreds of missiles fired ahead of the Navy jets, streaking above and below his altitude. The weapons accelerated and disappeared over the horizon.
The Long Range Anti-Ship Missiles dropped down low, skimming the ocean’s surface as they headed toward their targets.
“Gunslinger flight, coming left.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
The Superhornets banked hard left and headed back toward the USS Ford.
28
Lena walked into the military command center located adjacent to the Zhongnanhai governmental offices. The entire space was electric with energy. Something big was going on. Her father was there, looking frustrated as he spoke with the senior military leaders.
A colonel on her father’s staff saw her standing near the entrance. “Hello, Miss Chen.” He looked embarrassed. “I apologize. Miss Chou. Did you need something?”
“I was supposed to see the general, but he wasn’t in his office. What happened?”
“You haven’t heard? The Americans have attacked us near Panama. A massive submarine attack on our PLA Navy fleet near Peru. Half of our Jiaolong ships were sunk, and we lost three aircraft carriers. Now the American Air Force is battling with ours.”
Lena’s eyes drifted to the display of digital maps in the front of the room. Hundreds, no, thousands of digital tracks scrambled about over the land and sea near Panama.
“How goes the battle?”
The colonel shook his head. “It is too early to say. But I am afraid that your father will be indisposed for the rest of the day. I would interrupt him, but…”
“Don’t bother. Where is Jinshan? I would think that he would be here…”
The colonel said, “The chairman is recuperating from another treatment. He has delegated all military decisions to General Chen.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
Lena turned and walked toward the presidential quarters.
The guards allowed Lena into Jinshan’s chamber without question and closed the door behind her. The cavernous space was lit only by Jinshan’s bedside lamp. Darkness outside, except for a sliver of moon. She could hear her footsteps on the marble floor as she approached Jinshan’s bed. An overhead speaker played Chopin. “Nocturne in C Sharp Minor.” Violin mixed with piano.
Jinshan lay on his bed, reading glasses on, a thick stack of papers in his lap. He looked up when he heard her approach.
“Ah, my dear Lena. I hope you bring good news. General Chen senses my health, I’m afraid. He is bringing me less and less information at the most crucial time.”
Lena reached the foot of his bed and stood in silence. She studied the face of a man she had spent a lifetime admiring. A lifetime of deceit.
As their eyes met, Lena observed a flicker of confusion in his.
“What is wrong, Lena? Have the Americans defeated us at Panama?”
She took a step closer. The bedside lamp illuminated the scar tissue on her face.
“I must speak with you about something important.”
“Of course. What is it?”
Lena said, “When did you decide to recruit me?”
Jinshan’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you not bringing me news of our battle?” For a moment, Lena thought he might get angry, but then he said, “I recruited you when you were at Junxun. You know this. Why are you asking now? What is…”
“Who gave the older boy the key to my room? That night before you recruited me. My door was locked. Who gave him the key?”
Jinshan pulled his head off the pillow and sat up. His mouth hung half-open as he searched for a response. “What are you talking about?”
“An older boy in my Junxun class had a key. He entered my room that night, intending to assault me. I let him have my body. Later that night, when he was asleep in his own bed, I took my revenge on him.” Her voice was steady. She felt numb as she recalled the painful memory.
“I remember.”
“I changed that night. I have never been able to… to feel things the same way.” She was half-talking to Jinshan, half-talking to herself.
Jinshan took the papers off his lap and placed them on his bedside table. He looked concerned. Whether for her or himself, she couldn’t tell.
His voice sounded tired. “Lena, you were given certain gifts in life. I only wanted to help you develop them. And it has been a great honor to work with you.” Jinshan gave her a soft smile.
Lena acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “You made it seem as if you were doing me a favor by helping me get away with an act of violence.”
“I was. I did help you.” She heard a touch of indignation in his voice as he glanced over her shoulder, and she knew he would call for the guards the moment he suspected a threat. Lena thought she heard Jinshan’s chamber door opening, but when she turned in that direction, no one appeared.
The guards would have shown themselves. They were alone. Lena turned back toward the bed.
And took one step closer to her master.
General Chen entered Chairman Jinshan Cheng’s personal chamber and closed the door softly behind him. If the old man was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him. Things were not going well in the Pacific, and the general would rather not have to report the bad news.
However close to death Jinshan was, he remained the ultimate authority figure in China. He could banish General Chen to the political prison at Qingcheng, or send him to an early retirement. Jinshan might lose a little face at such a move, with all the political clout General Chen had built up in the past few months, but in the end it wouldn’t matter. Only the appearance of power mattered.
General Chen just needed to hold his current title until Jinshan was gone. With the right allies in place, General Chen was confident that Secretary Ma could be won over, naming him as vice president and further increasing Chen’s power. But none of that would happen if Jinshan fired him, meaning General Chen had to keep giving Jinshan updates. But it also meant that he couldn’t give him too much bad news…