Read Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 03 Online
Authors: Sky Masters (v1.1)
“What exactly is the plan for these
recon flights?” Elliott asked.
“Simple,” Stone replied. “We’re
going to do the southern
Philippines
first; the Chinese defenses are weaker.
RC-135 no less than one hundred miles off the coast, well within radar range
but nothing too provocative—I got that word loud and clear from JCS. AWACS
close enough to monitor the Philippine coast and all our aircraft. Two hundred
miles east, we put the EC-135. Between the AWACS and the carriers, we put a
Navy E-2 Hawkeye radar plane to control escort fighters coming from the
carriers. The Navy will put up tankers to service their fighters after takeoff;
we’ll have a KC-10 nearby to service all aircraft involved in the recon
operation.”
“How many fighter escorts will you
have up?”
“Not enough,” Stone replied grimly.
“JCS asked for eight per aircraft; we’re only getting two. Apparently the White
House thought eight fighters per looked too much like an invasion force.”
“So if there’s any trouble . . .”
Elliott said.
“We run like hell,” Stone answered.
“The fighters cover the withdrawal; they don’t engage. But we’re not expecting
any trouble. We’ll be far enough offshore that we won’t seem like a threat. The
Chinese should lay off.”
The sight across the road from the
south apron commanded instant attention; it was a huge black B-52, with a tall,
pointed tail, glistening polished steel skin, and racks of bombs hanging from
hardpoints under each wing. Masters asked, “What’s that? Some sort of
memorial?”
“The Arc Light Memorial,” Colonel Fusco
replied. “Dedicated to the men who flew the heavy bombing missions over
Vietnam
. That was one of the B-52s that made the
last bomb run over
North Vietnam
in 1972—‘Old 100,’ the one-hundredth B-52,
built in 1955. We keep her in tiptop shape—in fact, it’s still considered an
operational aircraft. The memorial was dedicated on the first anniversary of
the return of the POWs from
Vietnam
.”
“I’ve crawled all over a B-2,”
Masters said, “and I know the avionics system on the Space Shuttle like the
back of my hand, but you know, I’ve never seen a B-52 this close before. Weird,
huh? That thing is just plain
huge. ”
The other men nodded. It was a war
machine with which they all had had very personal experiences. For all of them
who flew it, they recalled times when the B-52, seemingly all at once, had
tried to kill them and had saved them—such was the nature of that black
monster. It was a killing machine that demanded one hundred percent from every
man who touched it. Masters stared at the plane and commented on its size, but
it had not taken any part of him yet—these two entities, the young scientist
and the metallic black monster, were probably bom about the same time. For the
others, it had affected their lives forever. The group fell silent as Fusco
turned around and headed back to the Sixty-fifth Strategic Squadron building.
On the way back, Stone’s aide,
Krieg, turned to Elliott and asked, “Did you fly Arc Light, sir?”
“Two years,” Elliott replied.
“Sixty-one sorties. Took an SA-2 missile in the shorts and bailed out over the
South China Sea
in 1968. I might’ve even flown Old 100 a
few times. But I wouldn’t know. I never really
saw
the machines, you see. Instead, I saw the men—wondering whether
the machine was going to let them live ... or die. God, this brings back
memories.” None of them pleasant, Elliott added to himself. In his opinion,
they had had the power to end the Vietnam War five years earlier. By conducting
heavy bombing and harbor-mining missions in 1972, they had forced an end to the
war, but by then it was too late. The American people had had enough of it, and
“Vietnamiza- tion” and “withdrawal with honor”—and, ultimately, defeat—were
preferable to nightly news reports of mounting casualties.
There was something to be learned
here, Elliott thought, and after a few sobering minutes thinking about the men
he knew that had died in the Vietnam War, he was glad Fusco had brought them to
the Arc Light Memorial before this new Philippine operation started.
America
had devastating air power back then,
Elliott thought—just as now. They controlled the skies over
North Vietnam
, they controlled the harbors, they
neutralized the NVA Air Force and ultimately defeated the dense antiaircraft
defenses—but they still lost the war. They lost the Vietnam War because the
decision to employ
America
’s massive air forces was delayed and
canceled and “committeed” and “staffed” to death.
Although he did not have a direct
role in the Philippine operation, and was not in the operational chain of
command, Elliott knew that it was his duty to see that those mistakes did not
happen again. They had the power to control the escalation and force their will
on the Chinese and anyone else involved in this crisis—they had to take the
lead. They had to formulate a clearly defined, obtainable objective in this
crisis and do everything in their power to achieve that objective.
And it had to be done quickly.
The White House Oval Office,
Washington
,
D.C.
28 September 1994
,
0712 hours local (
29
September, 2012
Guam
time)
It was very early in the morning for
a White House meeting, but President Lloyd Emerson Taylor had been up for two
hours and had been fully briefed on the progress of the military operations in
the
Philippines
. He was receiving his first official
visitor of the day: Hao Sun Yougao, Chinese ambassador to the
United States
. This meeting had been called two days
earlier, and there had been several meetings between Hao and Secretary of State
Dennis Danahall, but this was Hao’s first appearance with the President of the
United States
since the nuclear explosion.
Almost everyone in
Washington
liked Hao Sun Yougao. He was young,
energetic, and had an infectious smile that instantly put one at ease. But that
smile was dim this day, and the tension was palpable as Paul Cesare showed Hao
to a seat and the President took his. They were accompanied by Danahall,
Secretary of Defense Thomas Preston, and Attorney General Richard Benson, the
President’s brother-in-law; Hao was accompanied by a young woman who was introduced
as his secretary and interpreter, should he require one; he did not give her
name.
Tea was poured as the meeting began:
“Ambassador Hao, the silence from
Beijing
has us all concerned,” the President said.
“Premier Cheung has not contacted me directly, nor has he made any public
appearances since the disaster. The nuclear explosion near the
Philippines
, your rapid mobilization of forces, and
your actions in the
Philippines
are cause for great concern in our country.
Do you have a message for this government or an explanation of your
government’s plans to deal with the natural disaster and the political upheaval
in the Pacific?”
Hao seemed to consider the question
for a moment, although all of the Americans in the room knew that he was a
professional and had probably rehearsed every conceivable question and every
possible response a dozen times in the past few days, preparing for this
meeting. With slow deliberateness, Hao replied, “Yes, Mr. President. Comrade
Cheung wishes to extend his warmest greetings to you. He is saddened and
distraught by the disaster that has occurred. He wishes to express his sincere
wish that peace be preserved at all costs.”
“Very noble sentiments, Mr.
Ambassador,” the President said noncommittally, “ones that we all share, of
course. But . . . you have significant naval forces in the
Philippines
, you have mobilized strategic forces,
including nuclear-capable forces, throughout
Asia
, and you seem to be on a wartime footing
although the rest of the world is not. Forgive me for being so blunt but, Mr.
Ambassador, but what the
hell
is
going on?”
“Mr. President, I’m sure you realize
the complicated, confused situation we find ourselves in,” Ambassador Hao said.
“The government of
China
found itself torn between a monstrous event
and the resultant threat to our security, and the request for assistance that
came because of the incident. Our government had no choice but to act, in the
hope that our presence could help restore stability to the area and help calm a
destructive political situation.”
“So you’re saying that you have no
desire to occupy portions of the
Philippines
?” Thomas Preston asked the Chinese
diplomat. “You will remove your military forces from the
Philippines
once calm is restored?”
“I cannot say how our military
forces will be deployed, Mr. Secretary, now or in the future,” Hao replied
sincerely, “simply because I do not know this information.”
“Mr. Ambassador, in my opinion the
Chinese military presence in the
Philippines
is destabilizing and unwarranted,” the
President said. “Trade, immigration, free passage, communications, and
political stability were all assured before your country’s intervention. Why
does your government now feel it so necessary to occupy parts of the
Philippines
?”
“I assure you,
Mr.
President
,
China
occupies no part of the
Philippines
. . .”
“I have information that states
Chinese troops have occupied several military bases in and around
Manila
and on the islands of
Palawan
and
Cebu
. Is my information inaccurate?”
“Mr. President, the Philippine
government requested our assistance in controlling an uprising by well-armed
fanatical rebel troops,” Hao replied. “Any action we took was at the
specific request
of the Philippine
government, in complete cooperation with that government—”
“With President Mikaso’s permission?”
the President interrupted.
Hao paused for a moment; the
question obviously took him by surprise. “I have received word, Mr. President,
that President Mikaso is no longer in power. I do not know any details of this.
I am sorry, but I assumed you had that information as well . . .”
“I have information that Mikaso is
dead.
”
Hao’s Adam’s apple bobbed
conspicuously, and his eyes grew wider as he said, “I do not know this, Mr.
President. Is it true?”
“My sources inform me that Mikaso
was killed by Chinese soldiers, Mr. Ambassador. Do you deny this?”
Hao’s face registered true surprise,
although it was uncharacteristically understated for the usually animated
Chinese liaison. “I cannot confirm nor deny this, Mr. President. I have no wish
to doubt your word, but I must be certain of this.”
“I
am certain as I need to be, Ambassador Hao,” the President said. “I have a
great fear that your government, or your military, is ready to occupy the
Philippines
for good. Tell me I am mistaken, Mr.
Ambassador.”
“I may only offer assurances, Mr.
President,” Hao said immediately. “The Chinese are no threat to the
United States
, and we do not seek any sort of
confrontation whatsoever with any power. We are in the
Philippines
at the request of the Philippine government,
and we have the right to offer aid and assistance in any manner consistent with
our own national interests. The Americans had troops in the
Philippines
for nearly a century, as you well know, and
no one dared question your right to be there.”