The camera panned further out from the blast site. At around six miles out, a survivor was found. The operator, seeing movement on the ground, zoomed in.
“Bozhe moi.” Volodya murmured in Russian as he saw a man, his whole body blackened and warped by the flame, writhing on the ground. As the room looked on in horror, the man finally stopped moving.
A general shouted angrily in Chinese, and the operator zoomed back out, continuing to pan over the area.
I looked at President Duan. His mouth hung open and a tear streamed down his face. Finally, he put a shaking hand up and took off his glasses, setting them down on the conference table. In an infinitely weary voice, he asked, “Why would they do it? What could they possibly want so badly that they would incinerate those they call their countrymen? How can they poison with radiation the very land that they would call their own?”
No one answered. Duan, looking all of his 77 years, said, “And what right do we have to put our people through this torture. Will there be any of us left if we continue to resist?”
A general muttered through clenched teeth, "We could have stopped this attack if we had developed nuclear weapons ten years ago when Japan and South Korea did."
Duan said nothing, and one of his civilian aides jumped to his defense. "The Americans told us they would renounce the unspoken alliance between our two nations if we did."
Eyes turned to me and McCormick, as if we were the ones who had forced Taiwan not to build nuclear weapons.
A general asked, "Mr. Cortez, will the United States keep forces in Taiwan at the risk of nuclear war with the People's Republic? Will they retaliate against the Chinese because of this attack?"
Relatively easy questions to answer, for once. "I have no idea."
Another general changed the subject. "We need to begin rescue operations. There are undoubtedly many thousand wounded who might be recovered." The general took a breath, then continued. "And we need to abandon the northern section of the Mountain Line."
No one needed the full explanation. The Chinese had blasted a nuclear hole in the line. They would wait a few hours for the worst of the radiation to subside, then come pouring through the gap.
Duan said resignedly, "Pull our forces back then. And what new defensive line can we establish now that the Politburo has shown a willingness to use nuclear weapons? And what forces can save us now that the cream of our army has been massacred?"
The generals exchanged uncertain glances. Finally, one spoke. "We can build a nuclear weapon of our own in a matter of weeks, but that could prove too late."
Another said, "The American paratrooper division will be ready for deployment shortly. I would advise sending them into the breach in our lines as soon as possible. The Politburo would not dare use nuclear weapons against American soldiers. They probably used nuclear weapons now because it was the last time they would be able to kill only Taiwanese and make a credible difference on the battlefield.”
Duan nodded. Another general continued, “We can hold the line elsewhere with the soldiers we have remaining, Mr. President. The problem now is that the only coherent fighting force standing between us and 100,000 PLA soldiers is the American 101st Airborne Division.”
Duan asked, “When can more help arrive?”
An officer responded, “Because the sea lanes are not yet secure, we are airlifting in an American division from Australia using the Pelicans. It will be at least a week before they are ready to go into combat. The Americans can airlift in another airborne division in that time, but for at least seven days, the 101st Airborne will have to stand on its own.”
In a quiet tone, Duan asked, “Can the American division withstand the might of the PLA for seven days if we give them access to every one of our advanced weapons?”
The generals looked at one another, none wanting to proffer a guess. Exasperated, Duan pointed to one general. “General Dao, can the American division hold the line for seven days?”
A pause. “I don't think so, sir.”
Duan pointed to another general. “What is your assessment?”
“No, sir.”
Still another general. “The odds are heavily against it, sir.”
“They will hold, Mr. President.”
Eyes turned to Sergeant McCormick, who had spoken the words loudly and clearly. “My country has made terrible mistakes. We are not the people we once were. We are not as strong, not as clever, not as tenacious. But we have not forgotten how to fight when the night is dark, the hour late, and the cause just.”
One of the generals said doubtfully, “The American military is a ghost of its former self. We saw that in the defeat of Task Force 61. The American soldier is under-trained, overly-pampered, and, most of all, under-equipped for a war against a more technologically advanced foe.”
McCormick's jaw clenched. “You give us the fire, sir, and we'll give them Hell.”
Duan gave McCormick a long, hard look. “After all the horror you have witnessed, Sergeant McCormick, you would wager the lives of your countrymen on a last gambit to save Taiwan?”
“I will wager my own life on it as well, Mr. President. As soon as business is concluded here, I will go to join the 101st Airborne Division.”
“As will I.” Volodya announced. Volodya and McCormick both looked to Dietrich.
Dietrich sighed. “Colonel Douglas's widow would fire me if I did not agree. Yes, of course I will join the rest of the Lafayette Initiative.”
One of the phones on the table rang. An aide received the call and said to Duan, “President Gates is on the line.”
Duan rubbed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself. I watched the elderly man transform himself, his back straightening, the sadness in his face replaced with resolve. This, I thought for the first time since I had arrived, was the man who had transformed Taiwan in the space of a generation from a ho-hum Asian tiger to the world's leader in nearly every form of technology. “Put him through.”
The speakerphone on the table burst to life as a nasally American voice came through. “President Duan?”
“President Gates. I assume you are calling about the horrific attack we just witnessed here.”
“Yes, I am. My experts are telling me these were large tactical nuclear weapons, designed to punch a hole in your Mountain Line. How bad is the damage?”
“We are still gathering information and have no casualty estimates at this time.”
A pause. “Lee, is it time to contact the Chinese and ask for an armistice? You might get more favorable terms if you sue for peace now than if you wait until the PLA captures the rest of Taiwan.”
Duan looked down. “The situation is bleak, Mr. President.” President Duan looked directly at McCormick, and his voice hardened. “However, my most trusted military advisers have told me that if we push the line back several kilometers in the north and your 101st Airborne Division is committed to bolstering the northern flank, we can hold out until more reinforcements arrive.”
The American President sounded nervous. "My military advisers tell me that our 101st Airborne Division is going to be bearing the brunt of the Chinese assault. What can you do to assist them?"
"Mr. President, we have saved a few last secret weapons for this last stage of the war. Your men will be at least one technical generation beyond the PLA soldiers they'll be fighting. Our remaining planes will fly support missions while your F-22s continue to suppress the PLA Air Force. And, of course, our men and women will be fighting alongside your division further down the line.”