Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (dark books to read TXT) 📕

sat at the head of the table, intently watching the screen as the scene unfolded. It was from a small island in the South China Sea, eight thousand miles away from where the president watched and sipped his first whiskey sour of the day. There appeared to be nothing more than devastation. The buildings were all rubble, smoke still billowing from several of them. A burning truck sat in the middle of the runway on what he had been told was the island’s lone airfield. A couple of mangled missile launcher emplacements—again identified for the president by others in the meeting—were scattered around what was little more than an amoeba-shaped pile of coral and sand.

Two of President Smitherman’s cabinet were present. Secretary of State Sandra Dosetti sat on Smitherman’s left, reading her notepad and ignoring the large-screen flat panel and its battle scenes. Secretary of Defense Harold Osterman sat on his left, closely watching every image that appeared on the screen.

Two other monitors flanked the intel display. On the left-hand one, General William “Winking Willie” Willoughby, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, sat at his desk in the Pentagon. Willoughby got his nickname because of an eye spasm that caused him to appear to be winking, particularly when he was stressed or excited. Typically, he would have taken a quick car ride along the Potomac and attended the White House meeting in person. But the president was afraid the press might see military brass showing up at the White House and get all hot and bothered.

On the right-hand display, Admiral Rufus Clark, Commander Indo-Pacific Command, leaned back in his big leather chair in his office at Camp Smith, in the hills above Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

“Admiral, I saw the briefing binder this morning, but I don’t have time to read all that rigamarole they throw in there every day,” President Smitherman said, abruptly beginning the meeting. “Sum it up for me, if you will. From your vantage point, more or less on-scene, what the hell is happening with this China dust-up? I assumed if we ignored it the whole thing would be settled by now. But it’s still all we’re seeing on CNN. I know it’s serious stuff but it’s startin’ to affect my poll numbers. And we’re only five months from the Iowa caucuses, you know.”

“Mister President, we are fifty-five-hundred miles from Dongsha Island and they are eighteen hours ahead of us,” Admiral Clark replied. “I really can’t say that we’re any closer to being ‘on-scene’ than you are back there in DC. We have a term for that out here. We call it the ‘tyranny of distance.’”

Smitherman waved his hand. The geography lesson was over.

The admiral took the hint and shifted to briefly relating what he knew of the situation. He was aware from previous presidential briefings that it was best to keep it a simple list of bullet points.

“Firstly, the ROC troops, that is those from the Republic of China...”

“Just call them Taiwanese, so I don’t get confused with all the ‘Chinese this’ and ‘Chinese that,’” Smitherman told him.

“Yes, sir, Mister President,” Clark acquiesced, then went on without missing a beat. “The Taiwanese troops on Dongsha Island appear to have eliminated or captured all of the Mainland Chinese troops that were put ashore from their submarines. The last time the satellites picked up any combat that was actually occurring on the island was the day before yesterday.”

“So, Admiral, if the fighting is all finished, then what the hell are we doing here? And the media keep harping on it?”

Secretary of State Dosetti looked up for the first time and chimed in.

“Precisely! I have an important political function that I’m missing in order to attend this dog and pony show.”

“No, Madam Secretary, Mr. President,” Admiral Clark shot back. “That is definitely not the case. Ground combat appears to have been concluded. At least for the time being. But the Chinese air and naval forces are continuing to pound the island almost continuously. And the Taiwanese are giving as good as they get. Don’t know how they are doing it, but the ground troops are being re-supplied with both surface-to-air and anti-ship missiles. They have been getting their licks in. We have intel that there will be a Chinese amphibious operation shortly, in an effort to capture and claim what’s left of the island. However, so far our imagery hasn’t detected any movement in that regard.”

“I don’t understand,” Harold Osterman piped up. He was shaking his head, but his eyes had still not left the images on the display screen.

“Admittedly, we don’t either,” General Willoughby responded. “From a military perspective, it just doesn’t make sense for the PLA...the Mainland Chinese military...to continue expending so many resources over that little speck of coral. There simply has to be some political reason they’re putting on this show.”

Smitherman glanced over at Dosetti, who had already lost interest and was once again reading her notebook.

“Sandra, this is why I requested State to attend this, to get the political aspect. You can plan your senatorial campaign when we come to some kind of conclusion here.”

She shut her notebook in a huff.

“How am I supposed to know why boys so enjoy playing with their toys? Maybe they just get a thrill from watching things blow up.”

Admiral Clark interrupted the tirade.

“Mister President, Madam Secretary, we do have perspective on this from a source that is feeding very interesting intel to the Office of Naval Intelligence. I was just read in on this operation a few hours ago. Sir, this source has access to the inner workings of the Chinese Politburo, something we have never been able to obtain before. And her information has been spot-on so far.”

“Her?” the president blurted out, sitting up so quickly in his chair that he spilled a few drops of his drink on his tie. “This wonderful source of yours is a gal?”

“Hey, what do we know about this source?” Secretary Osterman asked, still watching the screen.

“Really about all