Tom Clancy - The Bear and the Dragon

The appearance of the first students in the square was barely noted by the two policemen there. Their main duties involved directing traffic and/or telling (frequently inebriated) foreign tourists how to stumble back to their hotels, and the only danger they faced was usually that of being blinded by the flashes of foreign cameras held by oafishly pleasant but drunken gwai.

This new situation took them totally by surprise, and their first reaction was to do nothing but watch. The presence of so many young people in the square was unusual, but they weren’t doing anything overtly unlawful at the moment, and so the police just looked on in a state of bemusement. They didn’t even report what was going on because the watch captain was an ass who wouldn’t have known what to do about it anyway.

What if they strike at our nuclear arms?” Interior Minister Tong Jie asked.

“They already have,” Zhang reminded them. “They sank our missile submarine, you will recall. If they also strike at our land-based missiles, then it would mean they plan to attack us as a nation, not just our armed forces, for then they would have nothing to hold them back. It would be a grave and deliberate provocation, is that not so, Shen?”

The Foreign Minister nodded. “It would be an unfriendly act.”

“How do we defend against it?” Tan Deshi asked.

“The missile field is located far from the borders. Each is in a heavily constructed concrete silo,” Defense Minister Luo explained. “Moreover, we have recently fortified them further with steel armor to deflect bombs that might fall on them. The best way to add to their defense would be to deploy surface-to-air missiles.”

“And if the Americans use their stealthy bombers, then what?” Tan asked.

“The defense against that is passive, the steel hats we put on the silos. We have troops there-security personnel of Second Artillery Command-but they are there only for site security against intruders on the ground. If such an attack should be made, we should launch them. The principle is to use them or lose them. An attack against our strategic weapons would have to be a precursor to an attack against our nationhood. That is our one trump card,” Luo explained. “The one thing that even the Americans truly fear.”

“Well, it should be,” Zhang Han Sen agreed. “That is how we tell the Americans where they must stop and what they must do. In fact, it might now be a good time to tell the Americans that we have those missiles, and the willingness to use them if they press us too hard.”

“Threaten the Americans with nuclear arms?” Fang asked. “Is that wise? They know of our weapons, surely. An overt threat against a powerful nation is most unwise.”

“They must know that there are lines they may not cross,” Zhang insisted. “They can hurt us, yes, but we can hurt them, and this is one weapon against which they have no defense, and their sentimentality for their people works for us, not them. It is time for America to regard us as an equal, not a minor country whose power they can blithely ignore.”

“I repeat, Comrade,” Fang said, “that would be a most unwise act. When someone points a gun at your head, you do not try to frighten him.”

“Fang, you have been my friend for many years, but in this you are wrong. It is we who hold that pistol now. The Americans only respect strength controlled by resolve. This will make them think. Luo, are the missiles ready for launch?”

The Defense Minister shook his head. “No, yesterday we did not agree to ready them. To do so takes about two hours-to load them with fuel. After that, they can be kept in a ready condition for about forty-eight hours. Then you defuel them, service them-it takes about four hours to do that-and you can refuel them again. We could easily maintain half of them in a ready-launch condition indefinitely.”

“Comrades, I think it is in our interest to ready the missiles for flight.”

“No!” Fang countered. “That will be seen by the Americans as a dangerous provocation, and provoking them this way is madness!”

“And we should have Shen remind the Americans that we have such weapons, and they do not,” Zhang went on.

“That invites an attack on us!” Fang nearly shouted. “They do not have rockets, yes, but they have other ways of attacking us, and if we do that now, when a war is already under way, we guarantee a response.”

“I think not, Fang,” Zhang replied. “They will not gamble millions of their citizens against all of ours. They have not the strength for such gambling.”

“Gambling, you say. Do we gamble with the life of our country? Zhang, you are mad. This is lunacy,” Fang insisted.

“I do not have a vote at this table,” Qian observed. “But I have been a Party member all of my adult life, and I have served the People’s Republic well, I think. It is our job here to build a country, not destroy it. What have we done here? We’ve turned China into a thief, a highway robber-and a failed highway robber at that! Luo has said it. We have lost our play for riches, and now we must adjust to that. We can recover from the damage we have done to our country and its people. That recovery will require humility on our part, not blustering defiance. To threaten the Americans now is an act of weakness, not strength. It’s the act of an impotent man trying to show off his gau. It will be seen by them as a foolish and reckless act.”

“If we are to survive as a nation-if we are to survive as the rulers of a powerful China,” Zhang countered, “we must let the Americans know that they cannot push us further. Comrades, make no mistake. Our lives lie on this table.” And that focused the discussion. “I do not suggest that we launch a nuclear strike on America. I propose that we demonstrate to America our resolve, and if they press us too far, then we will punish them-and the Russians. Comrades, I propose that we fuel up our missiles, to place them in a ready posture, and then have Shen tell the Americans that there are limits beyond which we cannot be pushed without the gravest possible consequences.”

“No!” Fang retorted. “That is tantamount to the threat of nuclear war. We must not do such a thing!”

“If we do not, then we are all doomed,” said Tan Deshi of the Ministry of State Security. “I am sorry, Fang, but Zhang is correct here. Those are the only weapons with which we can hold the Americans back. They will be tempted to strike at them-and if they do …”

“If they do, then we must use them, because if they take those weapons away from us, then they can strike us at will, and destroy all we have built in sixty years,” Zhang concluded. “I call a vote.”

Suddenly and irrationally, Fang thought, the meeting had struck out on a path with no logic or direction, leading to disaster. But he was the only one who saw this, as for the first time in his life he took a stand against the others. The meeting finally broke up. The Politburo members drove directly home. None of them passed through Tiananmen Square on the way, and all of them fell rapidly asleep.

There were twenty-five UH-60A Blackhawks and fifteen Apaches on the ramp. Every one had stubby wings affixed to the fuselage. Those on the Blackhawks were occupied with fuel tanks. The Apaches had both fuel and rockets. The flight crews were grouped together, looking at maps.

Clark took the lead. He was dressed in his black Ninja gear, and a soldier directed him and Kirillin-he was in the snowflake camouflage used by Russian airborne troops-to Colonel Boyle.

“Howdy, Dick Boyle.”

“I’m John Clark, and this is Lieutenant General Yuriy Kirillin. I’m RAINBOW,” John explained. “He’s Spetsnaz.”