Larry Bond - Shattered Trident

Li shrugged. “Shut down every piece of manufacturing equipment in China that uses a Japanese controller, especially the ones that haven’t malfunctioned yet. Forgive me, but I gave the order in your stead some ten minutes ago. We’ve already lost too many machines, millions of yuans’ worth. Then there are the factory workers that have been killed, and many others injured.”

Chen shook his head, as if to clear it. “So, after losing millions in damaged machines and goods, we lose billions more in manufacturing capacity. And since the Japanese made the best control units, we used them in our most important factories. But it cannot be helped. We will all endorse your order.” Others around the table nodded.

“Our technicians will replace the firmware,” Li explained. “They have to remove the back door, of course, and make sure there aren’t any others. They expect it to take about a week, perhaps two. And to be sure it doesn’t happen again, they’re removing all networking capability. The machines will be less efficient, unfortunately.”

Chen laughed a little. “And we may have problems obtaining spare parts in the future.” His smile disappeared. “I wonder how many bombs it would have taken to do this much damage to our industry.”

“General Xi’s cyber warfare people are expanding their security screens. It’s the best we can do.” Xi, looking a little uncomfortable with his new rank and new job as head of intelligence, simply nodded quickly, but remained silent.

The other two vice chairmen, Vice President Zhang and General Tian, had joined the group, listening silently to Li’s report. Others came to listen as well. The “factory sabotage” had become the biggest story in China, after the war itself. By the time Li had finished his explanation, the Central Military Commission was assembled. In the edges and corners of the meeting room, others continued their work.

After Chen signaled that he was satisfied, Li turned to General Tian. “My condolences on the loss of your younger brother, General.”

Tian nodded his thanks. “Tian Ma was only one of hundreds that died on Jinggang Shan, not to mention more on Lanzhou, Xiangfan, and the container ship. I will miss my brother greatly, but I mourn them all.”

Chen added, “Admiral Wei is at Zhanjiang, but he sent me the total casualty list: six hundred and thirty killed, almost a thousand injured, three ships sunk and Lanzhou crippled. Sinking four Vietnamese missile craft is hardly adequate compensation.”

“It’s the only defeat we’ve suffered,” General Shi Peng offered. He was head of the political department.

“If you don’t count the massive tanker losses, the damage to our industry from sabotage and missile strikes, and the economic sanctions the West is beginning to impose.” Vice Chairman Zhang Fei replied sharply. Along with a handpicked team of experts, he’d taken on the task of limiting the damage to China’s economy. They now understood that was the Littoral Alliance’s true target. “We could use the political department’s help with the workers. Wild rumors about ‘killer viruses’ are spreading. We’ve had walkouts, disturbances, and even sabotage at some factories.”

Zhang paused for a moment, then asked, “General Shi, will the political department support immediate fuel rationing? No personal travel. Nonessential industries shut down. Blackouts during the evening hours.”

Everyone at the table reacted with alarm, and Shi, horrified, protested, “We don’t need to do that—we aren’t starved for oil, not yet, anyway.”

“And the sooner we start rationing, the longer that will be,” Zhang responded quickly. “With the loss of all oil imports, we will be drawing heavily from our strategic reserve, which if you remember was not at full capacity when this war began. Vehicle fuel consumption is tripled because of the movement of army units. Jet fuel, marine diesel fuel demand has quadrupled at the very least, it could be even higher. It turns out our strategic reserves were based on unrealistically low wartime expenditure rates, and did not assume such a complete cutoff of imports.”

President Chen stated flatly, “It is necessary, Shi. Do you want to use our strategic reserve to supply civilian cars?”

“No, Comrade President, the political department will not object.”

“The political department will do its best to prepare the country for the hardships it will have to face,” Chen said firmly. “Zhang, how long do we have with the rationing implemented?”

Zhang didn’t answer right away. Finally, he said, “By law, it is supposed to sustain us for ninety days. Even with rationing, we have at most five weeks. After that, we’ll have to start making more dramatic cuts—it appears the war effort will consume most of our indigenous production.”

Chen’s mind whirled with the implications. China needed fuel to run its farms, to move the food, for cooking and heating. It was late summer now, thank goodness. They had fuel for the harvest, but after that…

“We must do more!” Shi insisted.

Zhang, unhappy at having had to deliver such bad news, was visibly irritated with Shi’s remark, and started to speak, but then closed his mouth abruptly and sat back, glaring.

“Admiral Wei is in Zhanjiang organizing a submarine campaign,” Chen explained. “We will sink anything afloat with a Vietnamese or Indian flag, naval or civilian. Pakistan is willing to provide intelligence on Indian ship movements. There will be more cyber attacks, as well.”

General Su, chief of the General Staff, nodded approvingly, but added, “Unfortunately and obviously, we can’t attack Japanese or South Korean vessels. We can’t give the United States a reason to involve itself. My junior commanders, and even a few of the senior ones, want us to ‘take off the gloves.’ They want to punish them all, but my officers don’t want to consider the price we would pay.”

“What about North Korea?” General Wen Feng asked. “Can they act for us? Could they increase their sabotage campaign against the South? They have an extensive network of agents in Japan and South Korea.”

“No!” Chen and General Shi both answered at the same time, and so forcefully that Wen sat back in his chair, open-eyed with surprise.

Shi sighed, explaining, “Pyongyang has become a nuisance, agitating for more food and increased fuel supplies so they can increase their readiness to attack the South. Nobody in my department actually believes they intend to do so. And they are full of wild schemes to injure or embarrass Japan and South Korea, whatever the consequences. We have not shared these with all of you, because there are more important matters to consider.

“Besides,” Shi complained, “That ‘extensive network’ of agents is useless. It didn’t give us a hint of warning about Japanese or South Korean participation in the submarine campaign. If Pyongyang had discovered any useful information, they would have passed it on to us—for a price, of course, but they would not sit on something as valuable as that.”

General Su added, “And an increased threat from North Korea would require the United States to send more military units to South Korea. We must avoid anything that draws more American forces into this region.

“We will begin our ground campaign against Vietnam soon,” Su continued. “Our aircraft losses are higher than we’d like, but we are clearly taking control of the air. Once that is secured, we will seize control of Vietnam’s oil fields. That will be the beginning of their repayment…”

7 September 2016

0800 Local Time

USS North Dakota

South China Sea