She knew what he was getting at, and couldn’t decide whether or not to force the issue. Japan was a relatively small nation in terms of land mass and military forces, and it would be very risky for her to offend China. Not only for military reasons, but because of the potential effects on economics and trade as well.
Yet it was equally risky to offend the United States. Thus, he had not wanted to be seen talking to her, not quite so publicly. And yet he needed to convey his country’s difficulties to her so that the United States would not be offended by Japan’s apparent silence on the issue.
“I appreciate your position,” she said quietly. “But you understand mine as well.”
“Of course. And that is what I want to tell you — that, as you suspect, we do not wish to be drawn in to this conflict. Consequently, I believe that within the next several days my country will impose stringent overflight and transit landing restrictions on your military aircraft.” He held up one hand to forestall comment. “This is not an official notification — it is simply my best guess based on experience. Furthermore, should things become… more intense… I suspect my country will withdraw landing privileges altogether.”
Now that was going too far, wasn’t it? She expected some resistance, perhaps some limitations on how many military aircraft could be on the ground at any one of the bases at a given time, but certainly not this. “The spaces are subject to long-term lease agreements,” she said. “Are you suggesting you will break those agreements?”
“I am suggesting nothing. This is purely preliminary. But what I have to say is this — if that happens, if there are serious restrictions imposed on overflight and landing, my government wishes to assure you that we will do nothing that would place American forces at risk. Furthermore, in the case of imminent danger to your people, such as a rescue at sea, we will cooperate most fully.”
“So we’re out on the front lines and we shouldn’t expect any help at all. You’ll abide by international law, and that’s all?” she asked, rather more sharply than she intended. But dammit, what was the point? Allies were supposed to stick up for one another.
“I’m also authorized to tell you,” he said, as though she had not spoken, “that Japan very much wishes to enter into the conflict on the side of the United States. But not, however, until there are sufficient forces in the theater that you can protect us if this should be necessary. We risk much if we support you against China — I think you must not expect any support for months to come after your aircraft carriers are in the area.”
“What about the rest of the Pacific Rim?” she asked. “Where do they stand?”
“To a great extent, their positions mirror ours. They wish to support the United States, wish that most fervently. But the danger is not insignificant, you understand. Especially for the smaller nations.”
Economic powerhouses the Pacific Rim nations might be, but there was no way they could stand up against the military might of China. No, it only made sense for them to try to sit on the sidelines for now. But she had thought that America could at least count on Japan’s support once an American aircraft carrier was near their coast.
“And what is it that you expect in exchange?” she asked.
“Continued friendship, and support for our historic territorial integrity.” His significant glance said everything his words did not.
Ah, so that was it. Japan wanted to ride the fence as long as she could and end up with the U.S. supporting her claims to the Kuriles and Spratley Island chains. The Kuriles, the jagged line of islands extending up to Japan’s north, were currently under the control of Russia. The Spratleys, with their oil-rich seabeds, were to the south, and were a point of controversy between China, Japan, the Philippines, Malaysia, and anyone else who could muster up a boat big enough to get out to them.
“That won’t do,” she said sharply. “You know it won’t — and you know I can’t agree to it.”
“Ah. But we had hoped we could count on America’s friendship in the future?”
“It has been adequately demonstrated to you time and time again, my friend. And now, if you don’t mind, I really must get back home. The hour grows late.”
The ambassador spoke to his driver, and the car turned and headed back toward her townhouse.
“Later than any of us think,” he murmured. They rode in silence for the rest of the way.
ELEVEN
Brad intercepted Wexler in the passageway outside her office. She took one look at his face, then followed him down the hallway, waiting until he judged they were in a secure position. Then he turned back to her. “Hemingway’s back.”
“More bugs?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Naval operations. JIC is in an uproar. It’s like a feeding frenzy. There’s still no hard evidence, but all the area experts are saying it’s about to come down to a confrontation.”
“When will the carrier be in the area?” she asked.
“Another two weeks. According to Hemingway, they’re setting a new speed record for transiting the Pacific.”
“Not soon enough, I suppose?”
“No. Hemingway needs to talk to you… but under the circumstances…” He stopped, knowing she understood what he meant.
“I suppose it’s time,” she said heavily. She felt obligations and bindings descending on her at the thought of what she was about to do. But really, there was no other choice, was there? Her own spaces were demonstrably not completely secure. Hemingway had insisted that there were no further listening devices, but Wexler could not shake the uneasy feeling that she was never completely alone in her office.
She pulled her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Okay. I’ll do it. When?”
Brad seem slightly surprised and uneasy over the situation. “Hemingway can take you right over, if you want. I’d like to go along.”
“What for?”
“I might as well hear about it at the same time, right?”
She stared at him, trying to understand what he was thinking. Did he think she wouldn’t tell him everything she heard at JCS? Or did he have other reasons of his own?
Suddenly, an insight. “Is there a turf war between the CIA and naval intelligence on this?” she asked, suddenly certain she was right. “The CIA doesn’t have a source there, do they? They want you to take a look at things, figure out what’s being withheld and get everyone singing off the same page.”
She could see him consider denying it, and then he sighed. “I don’t know exactly. Ever since the big summit that you and the president and the CIA had, I feel like I’m out of the loop. And this agreement — well, they don’t trust me as much as they used to. Divided loyalties, you know.”
Now that was ironic, coming from him. It was T’ing who had warned her about Brad and told her of her aide’s CIA connection himself.
She pointed a stern finger at him. “I will be leaving the office, accompanying Captain Hemingway, in precisely twenty minutes. Within that time, I expect to have a telephone call from the CIA requesting that you be allowed to accompany me and explaining their reasons for the request. Without that, not only do you not go, I will not tell you what happened when I get back.”
TWELVE
For two weeks, Marshall P’eng and Lake Champlain patrolled the western coast of Taiwan, intent on just holding out until the USS United States arrived on station. But the entire area was oddly silent, and none of their intelligence sources were exactly sure why. Yes, China was finishing up a major upgrade to most of her fighters. Yes, she had several major combatants just completing periodic maintenance.