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the talking heads on the news channels doing all our fussing for us. Make a fire-and-brimstone speech in the UN that nobody will notice. We’ll keep everybody on alert over there, just in case the Chinese get stupid about it. But this Tarbox thing will have all died down and been forgotten long before the primaries start in the early states. Then we can tell ’em how tough we’ve been and how we kept the peace. Right?”

Both secretaries nodded their agreement and simultaneously said, “Yes, Mr. President.”

“Oh, and Harold. Have your folks get with my folks and get the names and numbers of the wives and mothers of the boys we lost out there on that ship. Once the media knows, I’ll give ’em all a call and let ’em know how deeply sorry we are for their sacrifice. All right?”

“Girls, too, sir,” Secretary Dosetti interjected.

“What?”

“Girls. Two young female sailors were lost in the incident.”

“Yeah. Well. Of course. Thank you.”

3

Soo Be Xian was in a full rage by the time he returned to his offices at CMC Headquarters in the First of August Building. The long car ride through thick, tedious traffic from central Beijing had not helped diminish his anger. It only served to remind him that Yon Ba Deng had benefit of a palatial office at Zhongnanhai in the Forbidden City. But he, Yon Ba Deng’s superior, was relegated to little more than a closet at the Ministry of National Defense on the outskirts of western Beijing, far from the seat of power.

Soo Be Xian stormed into his office suite, slamming the door behind him. Bien Sung, his general factotum, was waiting, wringing his hands. “General Xiang is on the video conference line already. It is past time for your meeting with the Southern Theatre of Operation staff.”

Soo Be Xian waved him off as he stepped into his inner office. He plopped down in the red leather armchair at the head of the heavy mahogany conference table. The far wall was covered with a large-screen display. Colonel General Xiang’s florid face nearly filled the screen. The three-star general was one of the most senior officers in the People’s Liberation Army. He commanded the Southern Theatre of Operations and the three complete armies stationed there. With these forces, General Xiang was responsible for protecting China’s southern border as well as projecting the government’s will toward the south.

Xiang’s chief of staff, Major General Shun, was just visible in the background, looking over his boss’s shoulder. Soo well knew that Shun was the iron fist and real brains on this team. Shun would be his most dangerous enemy or his greatest ally, depending on where his allegiance would ultimately lie. And Soo knew that Shun’s greatest loyalty, above all else, lay with the People’s Liberation Army.

Soo began the meeting. “General Xiang, General Shun, it is good to see you again and I apologize for my tardiness. Traffic in this city is impossible. Now, I have read your reports detailing the conditions of your forces. I must say I am most concerned with the lack of coordination that the PLAN appears to be giving your One-Twenty-Fourth Amphibious Division. It concerns me that our brothers in the PLAN seem to harbor some disrespect for your Land Forces.”

Soo could see General Shun visibly bristle at this. He had taken the baited hook.

“But that is only part of the problem our Navy friends have caused,” the vice deputy minister went on. “It seems that some in the higher reaches want to kick the Americans some more.” He held up the same report that he had waved in Yon Ba Deng’s face. “I am sure that you have seen this action report about the latest so-called FONOP by the Americans and the PLAN’s dangerous response.” He slapped the paper onto his table. “This presents us with two problems. First and most obvious, the Americans will once again have cause to bluster and pontificate on the subject of the ‘freedom of the seas.’ We must be fully prepared to provide a strong response to them should their rhetoric escalate beyond the verbal. The second problem is that all this sea-going schoolyard pushing and shoving will inevitably cause the Party to move even more resources to the PLAN. They are clearly committing assets and influence in the direction of the navy at great costs to our army.”

Soo took a deep breath and watched both men’s responses. Xiang and Shun, as expected, were angry and agitated. But both remained silent, waiting for Soo to go on.

“However, I believe we can successfully resolve both problems with one bold stroke. It is really quite simple. We will move the crisis so it becomes a land-based one. One where only the PLAN is in a position to respond. General, you will move several brigades of the Fourteenth Army from Kunming down to the Vietnam border across from Lao Cai. At the same time, deploy the Forty-First Army brigades from Liuzhou down to the border at Lang Son. You will not be subtle in making these moves. Create much dust and noise. We will let the world think that we are replaying the 1979 incursion. But I do not want you to do anything other than make abundant noise and dust. Do you understand?”

He looked carefully at the two generals. Xiang, as expected, gravely nodded. And also as anticipated, Shun was unable to hide a sly grin.

Soo signaled and the screen went blank. He rose, stretched, and smiled. Bien Sung entered the office with a cup of tea on a tray.

“Did it go well, Minister?”

“Indeed. Very well,” Soo told him, almost gleefully. “We will teach that peacock, Yon Ba Deng, who really understands the quotations of Sun Tzu. Remember, Master Tzu also said ‘Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait

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