Shattered Trident - Страница 75

9 September 2016

1300 Local Time

White House Situation Room

Washington, D.C.

The ambassador’s expression was all they needed to see. They’d set up the VTC less than half an hour ago, based on the earliest time the U.S. ambassador to Pakistan could reach a secure terminal. She was hurried, almost breathless. She didn’t bother trying to look pleasant. “I just came from a meeting with the foreign minister. It’s chaos over there. This has caught them completely by surprise.”

“Us as well, unfortunately,” Kirkpatrick remarked.

“You’ll have to take that up with my counterpart in Mumbai,” Ambassador Wright snapped. “The only reason the minister would see me at all was that we already had something set up for today. We had about fifteen minutes. He shared some information, I offered moral support, and got out.

“According to the minister, there have been attacks all along the border with India, most probably diversions. They know a large column of vehicles has crossed in the north, opposite Lahore, and is driving west. They’ve also had reports of crossings in the south, but it’s so sparsely settled that they’re sending reconnaissance units to find out what’s going on.”

“What about their nuclear forces?” Patterson asked. She sounded worried, and the ambassador acknowledged her concern.

“I asked, as politely as possible, ‘If they were comfortable with the security of their nuclear forces.’ The minister said they’d been on heightened alert since India’s affiliation with the Littoral Alliance was revealed, and have been dispersed to safe locations.”

Wright added, “The minister made a point of telling me that no nuclear-weapons-related sites have been struck so far. Air bases, vehicle parks, road junctions in the north and south have all been hit hard. Based on what he was the most angry about, their air force has especially suffered. Our attaché in Karachi also reported a frigate in the harbor was sunk at the pier by precision-guided bombs.”

“But no nuke missile sites,” Kirkpatrick observed. “They don’t want to give the Pakistanis a reason to launch.”

“How about invading their country? Doesn’t that count as a sufficient reason?” Patterson countered.

Wright, listening to the conversation, shook her head sharply. “No, Doctor, the Pakistanis won’t launch unless the situation is dire. They can hurt India, of course, but India can destroy Pakistan as a modern nation. They only have three cities with populations over a million, with most of the educated population and almost all the commercial, scientific, and military infrastructure. For Islamabad, it’s virtually a doomsday option. Frankly, they depended more on Chinese support to deter a conventional invasion.”

“And the Chinese have their own problems right now,” Kirkpatrick completed. “What’s your assessment of the military situation?”

“If you mean what my attachés think, they unanimously agree that the Pakistani armed forces have been completely surprised and are reacting poorly. My attachés were just as surprised. Everyone assumed India was involved with the war in the South China Sea, and most of the Pakistani intelligence assets have been tied up with supporting the Chinese.”

“Including the terror attacks.”

“Entirely true, sir. Excuse me, but I have things I must attend to,” Wright said, a little impatiently. “Do you or the president have any special instructions?”

“None beyond safeguarding U.S. citizens and keeping us informed.”

“With the ports and airfields at risk, the land routes to Afghanistan are the safest option left. We’re getting our people moved here and to Quetta, and then across the border to Kabul and Kandahar. All the civilian flights that usually land in Pakistan are using those airports as well.”

“Good luck, Madam Ambassador. We’ll talk again at…” Kirkpatrick glanced at the clock. “0500, your time.”

“We’ll be here,” she responded, trying to sound positive.

10 September 2016

2200 Local Time

Littoral Alliance Headquarters

Okutama, Nishitama District

Tokyo, Japan

Miyazaki found him sitting in one corner of his office on a cushion. “Sensei, Admiral Orihara is here. He has arrived.”

Komamura started, as if waking from sleep, and looked at the clock. “Oh no! It’s ten o’clock already?”

“Yes, sir. Minister Hisagi was there to greet him, and will bring him here after the admiral has greeted the other members of the working group.” She sounded a little impatient.

“I will have to apologize to the admiral. I have been disrespectful. I should have been there, too.”

“You were missed, sensei, but I told them you were very fatigued.”

He smiled, and bowed slightly toward her. “Nodoka-chan, you are a great help to me. And may I compliment you on your appearance?” She blushed, but his remark was accurate. She’d replaced her customary tracksuit with a skirt and blouse more appropriate to the occasion.

A knock at the door made them both turn to see Minister Hisagi with an unfamiliar officer in his dress blue uniform. Steadied slightly by Miyazaki, Komamura quickly rose.

Hisagi said, “Dr. Komamura, may I present Vice Admiral Orihara Izaya, Japan’s new military representative to the Littoral Alliance working group.”

The professor thought he was much younger than Kubo, maybe in his late forties, and taller, although that wasn’t a challenge, but he still wasn’t as tall as Komamura. His hair had hardly any gray…

Komamura realized he’d been silent too long, and bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am in your hands.”

Orihara returned Komamura’s greeting, bowing deeply. “It is an honor to meet you, sensei. I look forward to working hard together.” As he straightened, the admiral noticed the small shrine in the corner of his office, near where Komamura had been sitting.

A small table against the wall held a portrait of Admiral Kubo Noriaki bordered in black. It was flanked by incense holders, and different items had been placed in front of the photo: a bottle of Kirin lager beer, a set of the admiral’s shoulder boards, a referee’s fan from a sumo game, several white chrysanthemums, and a dagger, to keep away impure spirits.

A pair of small sake bottles sat on a tray next to the cushion. “I was having a drink with Admiral Kubo,” Komamura explained.

“My deepest condolences on the loss of your good friend,” said Orihara. “It is regrettable that his death must be kept from the public, at least for a time.”

Komamura nodded, grimly. “His family understands the need for security. Their sacrifice will be honored as well when he is finally given a proper funeral.”

Miyazaki had picked up the tray and turned for the door when the professor said, “Wait, please. Gentlemen, will you have a drink with the admiral and me?”

Hisagi and Orihara each took a small cup from the tray and Miyazaki filled all three cups, then added a few drops to a cup in front of Kubo’s photo.

“He died in battle, you know, as surely as if he’d been on a ship,” Hisagi remarked. “That’s what they’re saying at the ministry.”

Orihara quoted, “‘Duty is heavier than a mountain, death is lighter than a feather.’ He can rest now.”

They drank, and Miyazaki collected their cups. Komamura set his down a little unsteadily, and Hisagi and Orihara nodded to each other. After arranging to meet at breakfast tomorrow morning, and Miyazaki promising to make sure the professor got to bed, the two quickly left.

* * *

They walked in silence for some time, until they were finally in Orihara’s newly assigned quarters, and Hisagi had closed the door. The admiral said, “I had no idea he was this bad. I’d heard stories, but this…” His sentence trailed off into silence as he sat. “I feel as if we’ve lost our compass.”

Hisagi replied, “Admiral Kubo’s death would be difficult to bear under normal circumstances, but the civilian casualties from the strikes yesterday were another heavy blow. He believes that since his book inspired the alliance, he must take responsibility for them, and therefore the war. He is also uncomfortable with taking an active part in the strike planning. Sensei told me himself that every time he recommends targets, he feels like a mass murderer.”

“I was in Tokyo yesterday morning when the missiles landed,” Orihara told him. “None landed close to the ministry, but their impact was still cataclysmic. The trains and roads are all paralyzed. Only the emergency services are able to move at all. I had to use a SDF helicopter to get here.”

“And we sit here and wait, helplessly, for the next salvo,” Hisagi mused. “They’ve been ready for over a day, there’s nothing we can do but wait.”

Orihara nodded his solemn agreement. “The missile defense forces did their best, but we have all learned an important lesson, both about China’s power and our own vulnerability. After I was given my new assignment here, I met with the heads of the other services, and then the minister of defense and the prime minister. They told me that Japan is taking new steps to protect us from Chinese ballistic missiles.”

Hisagi sighed. “Then I hope they do it quickly. I can’t decide what would be worse, another strike on Tokyo or a different city.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” concluded Orihara. “We lose people regardless of the city. An interim measure has been deployed, an electronic countermeasure system, but all that will do is provide some protection to key military and civilian installations. It does nothing for the general population.