Half a day behind China time, it was late afternoon at the White House. President Tyler Magnuson was in the Oval Office at his desk catching up on correspondence when his chief of staff opened the door. While standing in the threshold, he said, “Sorry to disturb you Mr. President, but Pete Brindle needs a couple of minutes of your time to brief you on the China operation.”
“He’s here?”
“In the reception.”
“Show him in, please.”
National Security Advisor Peter Brindle claimed a chair fronting POTUS. “Just heard from Langley,” he offered. “Colorado plucked our two wayward agents out of the South China Sea several hours ago.”
The President chortled, energized by the news. “Fantastic—are they okay?”
“Just fine.” Brindle beamed. “They had Dr. Meng with them, too, plus a treasure trove of data and actual hardware for the Serpent system.”
“That’s terrific.” The President stroked his temple, taking in the news. “Do we now have what’s needed to neutralize the threat?”
“With Meng, we have the crown jewels.”
The President leaned back in his chair, still processing the turn of events. “So, what do the Chinese know about all of this?”
“From radio traffic intercepts, Langley is of the opinion that Beijing believes their naval forces destroyed the submersible with all aboard.” Still astounded by the CIA briefing, Brindle continued the rundown. “Apparently, the PLAN actually deployed the Serpent system to attack the minisub.”
“They must have been desperate.”
“Indeed.” The National Security Advisor retrieved his handwritten notes from his discussion with the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency. He spent the next ten minutes providing POTUS with a summary of the recent events in the South China Sea.
President Magnuson digested Brindle’s report. He focused on the last revelation. “Sinking the submersible and blowing it up on the seabed, what a clever idea.”
“It was. When the Chinese investigate, which they most certainly will, just as we would, they’ll find the minisub obliterated on the bottom. That should provide the closure they’ll need to believe they dodged a bullet.”
“What about bodies?”
“That sphere imploding at three thousand feet would shred human tissue into fish food.”
Magnuson sighed, relieved that he might not have to confront Beijing over the incident. President Chen Shen would have no proof to pursue a claim of espionage by the U.S. “Whose idea was it to blow up the submersible?” he asked.
“Our Russian asset, Yuri Kirov.”
“Once again he saves our bacon.”
“Definitely.” That provided an opportunity for Brindle to address a loose end. “Sir, about the device the Chinese planted at the Russian sub base in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy, the CIA believes that the timing might be right to . . .”