TOM KNOWLES SAT in the Oval Office and wondered what was happening in Beijing. Were orders being given? If so, what for? Time ticked by. It was the early hours of the morning in China, he knew. He wasn’t sure if he had really expected a call from Zhang. No call came.
The Mao Zedong and Chou Enlai carrier strike groups continued their progress. The last satellite sighting before nightfall in the area, at 10.40am Washington time, showed them closing from the east on the Kenyan coast. The John F Kennedy was approaching from the south. In Sudan, the standoff continued. A heavily reinforced ring of troops surrounded the compound and the burnt-out Chinooks outside it. From the other side of the world there were reports of Chinese mobilization. Troops had deployed at key points on the Russian and Indian borders. Additional naval forces had put to sea. US defense intelligence was tracking them. They were moving to positions from which they could threaten US military assets in the region, which included the US presence in Okinawa and elements of the William J Clinton strike group, which were in the South China Sea. US forces in the region were on combat alert. Air support out of Diego Garcia was being readied.
Through the afternoon Knowles had meetings on the economic situation with his officials and congressional leaders. He tried to keep his mind on the issues, keep it from thinking about what might or might not be happening in Beijing. But in the back of his mind he kept wondering. Had he made the right decision? Was John Oakley right after all? Of the people he was meeting, only Susan Opitz was aware of events in the Indian Ocean. From time to time she glanced at him and he could tell she knew what he was really thinking about. As for the measures they had introduced to put a floor under the markets, they hadn’t been truly tested yet. Everyone agreed the real test would come in two days’ time, when the markets reopened after the New Year’s Day holiday. But by then, Knowles knew, the world might have been plunged into an entirely new era. If that happened, there were no measures that would be enough to hold the markets back from a last, massive dive. But that would be the least of his worries.
By five o’clock in Washington it was dark. Sunrise over Kenya, and the first satellite view of the ships, wouldn’t come for almost another six hours.
It was early morning now in Beijing. Still no call from Zhang.
He had finished his meetings on the economy. There was nothing now to take his mind off it.
‘We got the receipt message,’ Abrahams reminded him. ‘There’s only one way that can happen. He definitely got the email.’
Knowles nodded.
Ed Abrahams smiled. ‘Hell of a New Year’s, isn’t it?’
‘You going somewhere?’
Ed shook his head. ‘Best party in town’s right here.’
The president had originally planned to be in Nevada for New Year’s. A bunch of people were going to be at the ranch. He had called Sarah to tell her he wouldn’t make it. Sarah knew something must be going on but didn’t ask.
‘You want to watch the football?’
Ed grinned. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Time crawled. At eight-thirty he turned on Monday Night Football. Last MNF of the year, Buffalo Bills and the New England Patriots. Not a game that was going to make a difference to anything. Ed had brought Gary Rose and Roberta Devlin with him to the president’s sitting room on the residence floor, as well as Marion Ellman. The president had asked her to stay at the White House as the day unfolded. He ordered up pizzas and beers and Cokes.
A little after ten-thirty a call came through from General Hale to say that daybreak over East Africa had shown the carrier groups still approaching the Abraham Lincoln.
‘I guess they’re not going to turn around until they’re sure we’ve let them go,’ said Rose.
Knowles nodded. He turned back to the television and took a swig of his beer.
The game was drawing to a close with a score of fourteen to ten in favor of the Bills. But Knowles didn’t have his mind on the action that was winding down in the Ralph Wilson Stadium in Buffalo. Halfway across the world, a new year was dawning, and the action there was just beginning.
At a couple of minutes past eleven Hale called to say that the Kunming and Changchun had been released. The commanders on both ships had acknowledged the communication from Pressler informing them they were free to go. Twenty minutes later Hale rang again to say they were on their way.
It was done now. The leverage, as Hale called it, was gone.
On the TV some kind of New Year’s program reviewing the previous year had come on. Clips and commentary. Knowles saw footage of himself. The five people in the room watched, but their minds were elsewhere.
Soon the TV was counting down the New Year.
‘I should have got some champagne up,’ said the president.
‘Let’s just hold on a little for that,’ said Abrahams.
The phone rang. Hale said that the helicopters out of Lodwar had just lifted off.
IN BEIJING, PRESIDENT ZHANG and Defense Minister Xu walked into General Fan’s office. Fan was having a lunch meeting with four of his senior officers. They sat at a conference table covered with maps. Zhang gazed at the general. Fan told the officers to leave. They got up and walked out, taking their time in a show of arrogance towards the president. Fan stayed seated.
‘The Kunming and Changchun have been released,’ said Zhang. ‘The Chou Enlai and Mao Zedong have been stopped.’
Fan’s glance went quickly to Xu, whose eye was twitching.
‘I spoke with President Knowles. He agreed to release these ships in exchange for help with his economic problems.’
Fan watched him suspiciously.
‘I have told him we will allow his men to be removed.’
Fan jumped up. ‘That will not happen without my order.’
‘The victor should be magnanimous. To let him take these men is another victory for us.’
‘If that is what you call a victory,’ Fan retorted sarcastically, ‘what is a defeat?’
‘The Americans are moving immediately. Their men are already in the air.’
‘Then we will deal with them.’
‘You will not. They will not be molested.’
Fan smiled.
‘What?’
‘We’ll see.’
‘There will be no battle in Africa today, Fan. If there is a battle in Africa, there will be a battle here. Look out the window.’
Fan looked. Internal security forces ringed the building.
Fan reached into his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone. ‘With one call, those men out there will be lying dead.’
Zhang took out a cell phone from his own pocket. He glanced at Xu. The defense minister hesitated, then pulled out a phone as well.
The three men stood around the table, phones in hand.
Zhang had never visualized in his mind what it would look like when it came, the final moment of confrontation with Fan. Now it was here.
‘You need to make a call,’ said Zhang. ‘You can give the order to our men in Sudan to allow the Americans in, or you can unleash a war here in China. Look at Xu and ask yourself if you think you will win. Think about it carefully, Fan. You only have a couple of minutes. You need to decide which call to make.’
Fan’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Xu. The defense minister stood behind Zhang, his eye blinking furiously.
ON THE TV, the program had changed. Some kind of entertainment show had come on.
It was a distance of almost a hundred fifty miles from Lodwar to the target in Sudan, Knowles knew, but the helicopters would be over Sudan when they were about halfway there. He watched the time ticking by. Half past midnight. They would be over Sudan by now. They might already be under attack.
He glanced at the others. Roberta Devlin had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Ellman was gazing at the rug, thinking about something. Rose was watching the TV. So was Ed Abrahams. Ed looked at him and smiled ruefully.
Every couple of minutes he glanced at his watch. He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but he did. Quarter of one. Twelve of one. Eight of one. The watch hands slowly moved. One o’clock. He closed his eyes. One o’clock. They’d be on the ground now, or just about. He could almost see it in his mind like a movie, the helicopters coming in over the clearing he’d seen in so many reconnaissance photos, hovering, setting down beside the blackened Chinooks outside the compound. The dust rising, their rotors slowing.
And then what? Gunfire? Missiles? Perhaps before they’d even come down. Perhaps they were in flames.
Second thoughts swarmed through his mind, as they had in every spare moment of the day. What John Oakley had said that morning was true. If it failed, and if the story got out about how it happened – and it would get out – it would be the end of him. No one would care about the fact that he had averted a global war, all they would care about would be the men he sent in to die. He may as well hand over to Walt Stephenson right now because for the next two years he would be the greatest lame duck in history. Compared to him, Jimmy Carter with his Teheran rescue farce would be a tactical genius.
Suddenly he wished he hadn’t done it. He looked at his watch. Ten past one. It was too late. They were on the ground. They had to be.
‘Tom?’ said Ed Abrahams.
He looked up.
‘You okay?’
He frowned. ‘Yeah.’
Ellman and Rose were watching him.
‘It’s too early to have heard anything,’ said Rose.
‘I know.’ He took a deep breath. Too early to have heard anything, and too late to change it.
They waited.
‘Anyone hungry?’ said Abrahams.
There were shakes of heads.
‘Well, I am.’ He ordered up nachos and sodas.
One forty-five.
Two.
An hour there, an hour back. How long on the ground to load everyone up if things had gone smoothly?
Nothing happened. Marion was struggling to stay awake. Beside her, Roberta Devlin snored gently.
Two-thirty.
Two-forty.
The phone rang. They jumped.
The president picked up the receiver. He hesitated for a moment.
‘Yeah?’ he said.
The others looked at him expectantly. Hale had rung him to say there was no news yet.
Ten minutes later the phone rang again.
He picked it up. ‘Yeah?’ His face changed. Suddenly he was deep in concentration. ‘Yeah … Yeah … All of them … Yes …’ There was a long silence as the president listened. ‘Really? I didn’t expect that.’ Another pause. ‘Okay, thank you, General. And pass on my thanks to Admiral Pressler. I’ll speak with him shortly.’
He put down the phone.
The others were watching him.
‘Well?’ said Abrahams.
The president was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘Happy New Year.’
They burst into grins.
‘We got a bonus. Dewy and Montez were there as well.’
‘Yes!’ said Rose, clenching a fist.
The president allowed himself a smile, savoring the moment. Then he looked at Marion Ellman. He nodded slightly.
She smiled.
‘I guess all we have to do now,’ said Knowles, ‘is figure out what we do next.’