But Admiral Yin couldn’t believe his eyes. Although he knew a potential enemy would go to extreme lengths to confuse a prisoner into cooperating or giving up information, this di Silva seemed sincere. Could they have drugged him? Was this all some kind of grand hoax…? “Doctor, ask him what is happening. Ask him if we have been drugged. Tell him I wish to be released immediately and reunited with my crew.”
Commander Tran had to raise his voice a bit over the impromptu celebration there in the room, but eventually he communicated the Admiral’s question and received a reply: “Sir, he says he is empowered to release all of us and our vessels if we so desire,” the physician translated, “but he wishes to say that the revolution has begun and that you are the catalyst for constructive change in Palawan, and perhaps all the Philippines, for all true Communists. He is prepared to offer us protection until we are well enough to function, then he pledges that his loyal forces will rally behind us to free Palawan and create a powerful, respected Communist nation.” Di Silva spoke again, and Tran added, “General di Silva is putting you in command of his provincial defense force, sir. You may order him and his men to do as you please. But he asks that you accept the challenge. It would be a dishonor for you and the Republic of China not to…”
Admiral Yin Po L’un’s head was reeling in confusion. This… this was too strange. It had to be a trick of some kind. But what? This charade was different than any other kind of interrogation or con scheme he’d ever heard of — it didn’t make sense. At least to him. A foreign militia commander laying down his weapons before a prisoner, then asking the prisoner to take over? It was absurd.
Yin sat back in the bed, trying to absorb it all. Maybe they had given him drugs and weren’t admitting to it. But what would be the purpose of this… acting?
For a moment everyone in the room simply stared at him. As if waiting for his word…
He wanted to shake his head, to think clearly. And yet he was thinking clearly. And this proposition was bizarre. He took a deep breath. His head hurt, but otherwise he seemed fine. Maybe a bruise or two, but nothing seemed seriously out of joint or injured.
So if he was okay…
Then was this real?
What if it was?
This di Silva character didn’t look insane — perhaps he was who he said he was, and he really meant what he said. If so… what an opportunity! To occupy a strategic province of the Philippines without firing a shot — the horrible effects of the nuclear detonation notwithstanding — was the decades-long goal of the People’s Republic of China. It was even better if the Chinese were invited to occupy the islands! It would forever end the domination of the United States in the Pacific; China would have complete strategic control of the South China Sea and most of the eastern Pacific. The Russians, the Japanese, the Indonesians, the Vietnamese, even the Americans — they would all have to step aside…
And Admiral Yin Po L’un would be a hero.
But it was crazy. Absolutely crazy. This popinjay who called himself a general had to be insane — wasn’t the entire country filled with so-called revolutionaries, peasants who would carry the revolution’s flag long enough to get a betterlooking woman or a few extra dollars before heading off into the jungle? It would be an insult to throw in with this character.
“Tell him I wish to have my officers taken to the Hong Lung immediately,” Admiral Yin ordered at Tran. “I request that the men be returned to their ships as soon as possible. Tell him we fully support his revolution, but my first responsibility is to the members of my flotilla. Humor him. Tell him anything as long as we are freed and helped back to the ship.”
Tran nodded and began to speak with di Silva, slowly at first, but soon he was rambling on and on, his speech becoming less formal and more flowery — he really seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker, and di Silva was eating it up. A few moments later, with di Silva wearing a firm but rather dejected expression, the two men were bowing deeply and smiling to each other.
“General di Silva says he admires your sense of duty,” Tran reported with a sense of relief. “He has agreed to help us back to the ship and organize the surviving officers.”
Yin put on his best smile and extended a hand, and di Silva accepted as if Yin had just offered him the Crown Jewels. “Tell him he should be held up as a shining example of the great leaders of Communism — and any other drivel you think he will be impressed by,” Yin said impatiently. “Then ask him to bring the senior officers in here immediately so that I can organize—”
There was a sudden flurry of voices coming from the hallway, and a wave of people pushed their way into Yin’s room. Several of them had small automatic weapons and wore earpieces — Secret Service agents, most likely, or Presidential Guards, Yin thought. Well, the Chinese Admiral thought, he was right all along; his room was bugged, and as soon as the Philippine intelligence agents realized that he was not going to cooperate and try to enlist the aid of the Philippine General in trying to escape or overthrow the country, he was going to be captured like any other enemy of the state and hauled away to prison…
The wall of onlookers and guards parted suddenly, revealing a tall, young, handsome man with fair features, a thin dark mustache, and carefully coiffured dark hair. Doctors and nurses were staring at him as if they were looking at a god from Heaven, while the security guards were now gently pushing them away. General di Silva spoke at length to the man, who seemed to be very good friends with him.
The man then stepped up to Yin’s bed, his hands crossed before him, smiled pleasantly at Commander Tran, then said in rather good Chinese, “Welcome, Admiral.”
Yin was clearly impressed. “Thank you, sir. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“I am First Vice President of the Republic of the Philippines, Daniel Francisco Teguina. Admiral Yin Po L’un, I welcome you to Palawan.”
The First Vice President! Yin exclaimed to himself. Well, things were getting very interesting — if he was who he claimed. “So. Am I to be your prisoner, Comrade Vice President?”
“No,” Teguina replied, struggling through Yin’s sentence and struggling to compose a reply. “You are my guest and are to be welcomed.”
“As a conquering hero?”
Teguina made a sideways glance at the receding wall of people around the bed — none were within hearing range, and probably did not understand Chinese in any case — then at di Silva, and then back at Yin. “If you have the strength, Admiral, we will speak of it,” Teguina replied.
“I will speak of nothing until I am reunited with my officers and receive report from them on the status of the men under my command,” Yin said. His words were obviously too much for Teguina, who shook his head, and Yin motioned for Tran to translate.
“You will have what you wish, Admiral Yin,” Teguina said. He smiled evenly. “Then, we will speak of the future of the Philippines — and of our future.”
6
General Wilbur Curtis and the other Joint Chiefs of Staff were seated around the triangular table in their Pentagon conference room, the Tank, listening to Navy Captain Rebecca Rodgers give her morning briefing.