Shattered Trident - Страница 60

That was the opening Lloyd had been waiting for. “Yet the United States is providing valuable assistance to Japan, South Korea, and the Philippines. Our formal military treaties are shielding your countries from direct Chinese attack. At the same time, if the Chinese do attack your territory, under the terms of those treaties, we are obligated to join you in a war we did not choose, and which would have the gravest consequences for all of us.”

“If the United States does not wish to become involved in this war, why are your submarines interfering with attacks by alliance vessels? Protecting the Chinese will not earn you their gratitude. Some in the alliance… excuse me, some in Japan believe you have chosen sides.” Urahara’s expression changed just a little, and Myles saw anger beneath the mask.

Myles answered, “My orders were to frustrate all attacks, whether by Chinese or alliance vessels, with the goal of reducing the loss of life on both sides, in the hope that a diplomatic solution could be found.”

“As much as you wish it to be even-handed, your submarines are not powerful enough to stop Chinese air or ballistic missile attacks. They also prevent us from hurting Chinese naval surface forces and stopping their campaign of conquest. And since the alliance has the advantage at sea, your actions help the Chinese more than us. The last two tankers to reach Chinese ports did so because attacks on them were disrupted by American submarines.”

Urahara paused for a moment, before stating flatly, “I have been told that at the moment, Japanese submarines are under strict orders to avoid firing at any vessels other than Chinese. Other alliance countries have given similar directions. American interference in the war also increases the risks to our submarines and their crews, and prolongs the war. That is unforgivable.”

When Urahara used the word “unforgivable,” Myles understood that in the Japanese language the word meant not just “offensive,” but “is not permitted.” In other words, the United States had crossed the line. There could be no recompense.

The ambassador continued, “In discussions with other alliance members, the Japanese Foreign Ministry has observed the very prevalent opinion that the United States is attempting to preserve the status quo, that is, a Pacific dominated by American military power. Japan recognizes that for decades, she has grown and flourished under such an arrangement. But would your country have stood against Chinese ambitions in the South China Sea?”

“Because Japan and America’s other allies did not consult with us first,” Myles answered sharply, “that specific question can never be answered.”

“You would have pressured us to wait, to give diplomacy a chance, to confront China with what we had learned. It was too late for that. There was no time.”

“So, Japan believed that the U.S. would not stand with her,” Myles stated flatly.

“Risk open war with another nuclear power when your vital interests were not threatened? Over ‘disputed territories’?” Urahara almost spat the words out.

“If U.S. security is so worthless, then withdraw from the treaties. Relieve us of our obligation.”

“Join us,” Urahara countered. “China is reeling now. The alliance is winning. If the United States openly sides with us, the political shock alone may be enough to convince the PRC to cease hostilities. Your military power, although less than in the past, would help end the war swiftly.”

“I agree that China is near the edge, but that makes this the most dangerous time.” Myles was harsh. “You were willing to predict America’s behavior before the war started. Can you correctly guess how Chen Dao and the Politburo will act facing the abyss of defeat and economic ruin? They’re losing much more than just ‘face.’ Besides, I don’t think Dr. Komamura would approve of our involvement.”

Urahara’s eyes narrowed perceptively. Myles had struck a nerve. Still, the irritation passed quickly and the ambassador continued. “The Littoral Alliance wants a short war. That limits the suffering, and maximizing the violence has the best chance of delivering the sharp blow that will convince Chen and the others to abandon their expansionist plans. The United States, with its strange ‘neutrality,’ is prolonging the conflict and frustrating our aims. If you want to end the war quickly, help us. If not, at least stay out of our way.”

Myles’s voice hardened. “Mr. Ambassador, you’ve read the American newspapers, seen the debates in Congress. There is a growing movement in this country that wants the U.S. to simply withdraw from all mutual security treaties with Japan, South Korea, and now the Philippines—declare them null and void. That would remove the risk of a war between two superpowers, but it would also be a signal to China that it could do as it pleases. Can the Littoral Alliance really prevail against the unrestrained power of China’s armed forces? The damage and loss of life in Japan alone could—”

“Now you threaten us!” Urahara almost shouted. “Japan and her allies have acted to protect ourselves against Chinese aggression, and instead of supporting us, as America so often promised, you have done everything possible to frustrate our victory.”

“I’m trying to find a way to end this war on terms fair to both sides. You know we’ve demanded that China evacuate all the islands she’s seized. She won’t do that unless the alliance also agrees to a cease-fire. You’ve inflicted massive damage on the Chinese economy. She’s seen your power. Present your demands over a conference table.”

The Japanese ambassador paused for a moment, then replied carefully, “I will convey your entire message back to my country, as well as our allies.” He relaxed a little, and continued, “If I may be allowed a personal observation, China abandoned the conference table when she committed to her surprise assault. I do not believe her leaders will accept another course until they have been forcefully shown that their aggression incurs a painful consequence. They must be humiliated, shocked—only then will they change their path. And she is not yet at that point.”

Urahara stood and bowed deeply, then left.

7 September 2016

2345 Local Time

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Lowell Hardy sipped at his glass of port. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do now was decompress. Catching up on the news, he moved the cursor to his bookmarks folder and pulled down to the Bywater’s Blog entry. Once the Web site opened up, he clicked on the sub-blog covering the war and started reading the newest updates. As usual, he’d completely lost track of time, as he didn’t realize it was well after midnight until the lock on the front door clicked.

Stumbling through the door, Joanna stopped just long enough to dump her purse and valise on the floor and kick off her shoes. She looked exhausted. Hardy got up, walked over quickly, and gave her a big hug. She almost collapsed in his arms, but returned the embrace along with a kiss.

“Tough day at the office, dear?” joked Hardy.

“Don’t even go there,” Joanna whined.

“Sorry. Have you had any dinner?”

“No. Didn’t have time,” she replied wearily.

“Right! You come sit down while I find something edible in the fridge.” Hardy escorted her over to the easy chair by the computer hutch. “I think the leftover spaghetti is still mold-free.”

“I’ll eat anything you put in front of me. Just as long as I don’t have to make it.”

Hardy laughed and made his way to the kitchen. As he started rustling about, he called back to her. “If you’ve got any mental energy left, you might want to look at that blog that’s up on the screen.”

“Do I have to?” whimpered Joanna.

“No, of course not,” Hardy said as he returned with a glass of port.

“Oh, bless you, my love!” cried Joanna as she graciously accepted the drink. After a sip, she gestured toward the screen. “What’s this blog about?”

“It covers the war, of course, and does a right fine job of it.”

“Lowell, dear, I read enough about this damn war at work. Why would I want to look at something here at home?”

Hardy leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Trust me, you won’t get articles like this at work.”

As her husband went back to the kitchen, Joanna struggled out of the easy chair and shuffled to the computer hutch. Plopping her bottom into the chair, she began reading. Almost immediately, a confused frown appeared on her face.

“Lowell, who is this Bywater guy?”

Beeping sounds came from the kitchen as Hardy started the microwave. “Say again?” he called out.

“Who is this Bywater guy?”

“Oh, yeah, I had to look that up too.” Hardy chuckled. “The blog is named after Hector C. Bywater, an early twentieth-century reporter in England. Part spy, part naval correspondent, and part best-selling author, Bywater had an extensive network of contacts, worldwide, that fed him information for his articles. Apparently, he really knew his stuff, and had a knack for communicating complex naval issues to laymen and politicians alike.

“The Web administrator of the blog is a Canadian, up in Halifax, and he’s just as well connected. He’s done some interviews for CNN, and for a talking head, he’s pretty damn good. I’ve been following his blog now for the last few days and he has information I don’t get in my intel briefs. His last entry will be of particular interest to you, given your passions, my dear.”