Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 03 (39 page)

           
The body in a brown suit had been
hastily covered with a tablecloth and was carried out by Chinese soldiers.
“Wait!” Teguina shouted. “I want the badge.” He pointed to his lapel, then
motioned to the body that had been taken away. A Chinese officer went out,
returning a few seconds later with the Philippine Badge of Honor. Teguina’s
eyes registered dark stains spattered across the officer’s fingers, but ignored
them as he pinned the Badge of Honor to his own lapel. The doors to the
President’s office were closed by the Chinese troops, and Daniel Francisco
Teguina set about the task of planning the important next steps to
consolidating his power.

The White House Oval Office

Wednesday, 28 September 1994,
1035 hours local

           
The President was at his desk,
staring out of one of the bullet-resistant polycarbonate windows looking into
the Rose Garden, when the men were ushered in. He didn’t even look up. His mind
was on something more personal, more immediate than whatever brought the
gentlemen in for this next appointment. Secretary of State Dennis Danahall and
the President’s Chief of Staff, Paul Cesare, were standing near the President’s
desk.

           
The President’s secretary ushered
General Curtis into the Oval Office. Curtis had been summoned for a meeting
with the NSC and the President.

           
“Sir . . .” General Curtis said,
letting the President know he was present after
Taylor
’s secretary had shut the door behind him
and disappeared back into the outer reception area.

           
The President said nothing for a
moment—nor did the others—and then, finally, he turned and took a deep breath.
“Arturo Mikaso may be dead.”

           
Curtis felt his heart skip a beat.
“What? Mikaso dead?”

           
Danahall said, “It’s unconfirmed,
but we got a report a few minutes ago from British Intelligence, who had a
Filipino clerk working in the palace at the time. The clerk says Mikaso was
shot by a Chinese guard about an hour ago when the troops moved in. Some other
Cabinet members and most of Mikaso’s staff and guards were also shot.”

           
“Mikaso could still be alive.” The
President sighed. “But I doubt it.”

           
“What about the Chinese? Are they
assisting in the coup?” asked Curtis.

           
“The Chinese have occupied a
military base on
Palawan
— they have in fact occupied the Entire
island—and have been given authorization by Teguina to occupy four more
installations in the south,” Secretary of Defense Preston said. “There are
Chinese infantry and armor units in the capital already, and they are
augmenting rebel troops by the hundreds.”

           
Curtis looked at the President of
the
United States
, understanding the terrible anguish within
him. President Taylor and Mikaso had been friends despite the removal of
U.S.
troops from the
Philippines
, and
Taylor
had always pledged to protect Mikaso and
his island country no matter what the political situation was. The news of his
murder in his own house, by invading troops, must have been devastating to the
President. “Mr. President, I’m very sorry . . .”

           
“I haven’t even briefed the rest of
the NSC or the Cabinet about it yet,” the President replied quietly. “Dammit, I
should have been smarter. I should have realized Arturo was in danger from the
beginning...” The President swiveled his chair and faced his advisers. “Well,
what the hell do we do now?”

           
“The Chinese have closed off the
airport,” Danahall said. “It’s too late to evacuate American citizens in
Manila
. We should demand that all American
citizens that wish to leave be allowed to leave.”

           
“Yes, absolutely ... see to it
immediately,” the President said. His mind was moving quickly from item to
item, all the while interrupted with the thought of his friend murdered in cold
blood by a Chinese soldier. “What about the carriers? Are they in danger from the
Chinese now?”

           
General Curtis said, “I believe the
carriers can adequately protect themselves from any sea-based threats,
including Chinese submarines. Their main threat would come from long-range,
land-based strike aircraft or antiship missiles, and we need to determine the
seriousness of that threat before sending any carrier task forces too close to
occupied territory. The main thing is, we’ve got to get all the data we
possibly can on the composition of the Chinese invaders. But if I may speak
freely, sir—the most important question here is what
you
intend to do about the Chinese in the
Philippines
,” Curtis concluded.

           
“I want the Chinese out, that’s
what,” the President replied testily. “I want the democratic government in
Manila
restored. We will open negotiations with
Premier Cheung immediately, of course, but I want them out. Unconditionally.”

           
“But if they are invited by the
Philippine government? Do we have any right to go in with military force to try
to remove them?” Secretary of Defense Preston asked. “If they pose no direct
threat to free trade and free access to the South Pacific or
Southeast Asia
, why do we want them out of the
Philippines
?”

           
“What do you mean . . . ? Of course
we have the
right
to remove them from
the
Philippines
,” President Taylor said. “They’re a
destabilizing force, a military and political threat to the democracies in the
area. Aren’t we in agreement on this?”

           
“I don’t think there is any question
about that,” Danahall said. “A three-way balance of power—us, the Soviets, and
the Chinese—offers the best stability. Reduce it to one nation and the Cold War
heats up all over again.”

           
Curtis said, “But Secretary
Preston’s point is valid, sir. We might not have any legitimate right to try to
bump the Chinese out unless we can prove that the invasion is not in our best
interests or unless we are asked to intervene.” “We have every right to make
demands on the Chinese,” Cesare interjected. “They don’t own the
South China Sea
. No nation can just move in and occupy
another country.” “Exactly, Paul,” the President said, “Mikaso was our friend
and ally. I’m sure he didn’t give his life to allow the Chinese to march into
his capital and take over his country.”

           
“Curtis and Preston have a point,
Mr. President,” Danahall said. “If the present government—even Teguina—says he
invited
China
in to quell some sort of national uprising, that forces us into a
defensive situation. We have to explain to the world why we want to send troops
in.”

           
“We’re
always
put in a position to defend our actions,” the President
scoffed. “What else is new?”

           
“That’s often true, Mr. President,”
Danahall said. “But we’ve got to try to work in concert with other
countries—the more we try to go it alone, the more we’re accused of bullying
and imperialism. We should get some interested countries involved and get them
to ask for our help.”

           
“Like who?”

           
“ASEAN, for example,” Danahall
replied. “Most or all of the ASEAN nations have had territorial arguments with
China
—ASEAN was developed as a counterweight to
Chinese aggression. And then there are things we can do to advance our own
military position without unnecessarily provoking the Chinese or alienating
ASEAN ...”

           
“Well, sending in a second carrier
battle group and a Marine Expeditionary Unit seems pretty provocative to me,”
Cesare said.

           
“I think that action can be fully
justified in the context of a nuclear-armed Chinese naval group that has moved
into the
South China
Sea
. I mean it’s
right in the heart of ASEAN,” Curtis replied. “So would sending in the Air
Battle force for support—”

           
“I don’t want to send in the damned
B-52 bombers,” the President grumbled. “Sending them in would be tantamount to
saying we want a nuclear exchange. Christ, Curtis . . .”

           
“Sir, the biggest threat facing our
carrier battle group in the
South China Sea
is not sea-based threats, but land-based threats,” Curtis argued.
“Heavy bombers and large antiship weapons launched from shore could devastate
the fleet . . .”

           
“You said that already.”

           
“The same argument applies to the
Chinese, sir. Even a small squadron of Harpoon-equipped B-52s could devastate a
Chinese surface action group—each bomber could destroy two to four vessels,
with minimal risk to themselves.”

           
The point, however grudgingly, was
made on the President. “So what can the Air Force do?” the President asked
after a brief pause. “We don’t have bases in the
Philippines
. . .”

           
“We’d operate out of
Guam
, sir, just like STRATFOR is doing,” Curtis
replied. “We’d deploy the First Air Battle Wing and have the manpower and
equipment out there on hand for both fleet defense, sea interdiction, and
ground attack. I’m not asking for permission to send the entire Air Battle
Wing, sir,” Curtis concluded. “We’ll need time to set up—at least five to six
days. But General Elliott of HAWC has devised a special combat-information
exchange system aboard several of his aircraft—including several modified B-52s
and a B-2 stealth bomber—that could be extremely valuable to us if the shooting
starts. I’m requesting permission to send Elliott and one aircraft, the stealth
bomber, to
Guam
—under absolute secrecy—to help get things
set up.” “Elliott?” the President asked, rolling his eyes. “Brad Elliott? He’s
involved in this . . .
already?”

           
Curtis went slowly, calmly, trying
not to inflame the President any further. “It was his Center’s satellite
system— PACER SKY—that got the photos of the Chinese ship launching the nuclear
missile at the Philippine Navy. We want to expand that same satellite system on
all the Air Battle Force aircraft ...”

           
“But why send a B-2?” the President
asked.

           
“The B-2 is a part of the Air Battle
Force now, sir,” General Curtis explained. “It requires a lot more security and
a bit more ground-support pre-planning. In addition, this particular B-2 was
General Elliott’s prototype with the full PACER SKY satellite system installed.
It also has greatly enhanced reconnaissance and surveillance capabilities that
we will need immediately if the Air Battle Force is activated.”

           
The President thought about the
proposal a bit, then, with a weary and exasperated sigh shook his head.
“Listen, Wilbur, I can’t decide on any of that now. Continue with current
directives and keep me advised. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

           
“Sir, may I?”

           
“Save
it,
Wilbur. Thank you.”

           
The meeting was definitely over.

Residence of the Premier,
Baiyunguan Terrace
Beijing
,
Republic of
China

Thursday, 29 September 1994,
0602 hours local (
Wednesday,
28 September, 1702
hours
Washington
time)

           
The streets were still relatively
empty as the small motorcade of dark, unmarked cars raced down
Shilibao Avenue westward
past
Tian’anmen Square
, then north past Yuyan Tan People’s Park
toward the Premier’s residence in Baiyunguan Terrace, a complex of residences,
green rolling hills, parks, and temples built especially for the Communist
government leaders. Outer security at the twisting single-lane entrance was
provided by a single unarmed guard who would politely point and describe the
complex to tourists and children and even offer to take pictures for visitors;
inside the narrow portal, however, was a detail of three thousand heavily armed
soldiers, hand-picked by Premier Cheung Yat Sing himself, that guarded the
sixty-acre complex.