Never

Liu spoke into his phone. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘I say again, go.’

The second jet was filming the first, and one of the screens in the Situation Room had a clear picture. Kai saw the rear of the first Flying Shark, with its distinctive upright fins and twin exhausts. A moment later it sped along the deck, swooped up the curved ski-jump take-off ramp at the front of the aircraft carrier, then climbed fast into the sky. The camera followed, and for a moment Kai felt a touch of nausea as it gathered speed and shot off the end of the ramp.

As the two jets accelerated someone said: ‘How the fuck fast do they go?’

Admiral Lui said: ‘Top speed is around one thousand five hundred miles per hour.’ After a pause he added: ‘They won’t reach anywhere near that on this short journey.’

The jets climbed until they were too high to see ships, and attention turned back to the video footage from the drone. The picture showed the Japanese sailors in their camp. The tents now stood in a neat row and some of the men appeared to be making lunch. Others were on the tiny beach, horsing around, splashing and throwing sand. One of their number was filming them on a smartphone.

Their blissful ignorance lasted only a few seconds more.

Some of them looked up, perhaps having heard the jets. The aircraft must have seemed too far away to be a threat, and their markings could not possibly be visible from the ground, so the sailors at first just stood there staring.

The first jet banked and turned, followed by the camera in the second plane, and then started its bombing run.

Perhaps the sailors got some kind of warning from their submarine, for suddenly they grabbed automatic rifles and shoulder-mounted missile launchers and quickly took up defensive positions in what looked like a prearranged pattern around the tiny island. Their launchers, the size and shape of sixteenth-century muskets, were probably a Japanese version of the American FIM-92 that fired a Stinger anti-aircraft missile.

Admiral Liu said: ‘The jets are at about thirty thousand feet and flying at five hundred feet per second. Those hand-held weapons pose no threat.’

For a moment all was still. The sailors on the island held position, and the first jet remained steady in the camera lens of the second. Admiral Liu said: ‘Bombs away,’ and Kai thought he detected a flicker that might have been the release of a missile.

Then the little island exploded in flame and smoke. Sand and rocks were flung into the air, emerging from the smoke and falling into the sea, along with pale objects that looked horribly like body parts. A cheer went up from the military men in the Situation Room.

Kai did not join in.

Slowly the debris settled, the smoke cleared, and the surface of the water returned to normal.

No one was left alive.

The Situation Room was quiet.

It was Kai who broke the silence. ‘And so, comrades,’ he said, ‘we find ourselves at war against Japan.’





DEFCON 1


NUCLEAR WAR IS IMMINENT OR HAS BEGUN.





CHAPTER 40


Pauline was not sleeping when Gus called. It was unusual for her to lie awake at night. No previous crisis had stopped her falling asleep. When the phone rang she did not need to look at the bedside clock, for she already knew the time: 12.30 a.m.

She picked up and Gus said: ‘The Chinese bombed the Senkaku Islands. Killed a bunch of Japanese sailors.’

‘Fuck,’ she said.

‘The key people are in the Situation Room.’

‘I’ll get dressed.’

‘I’ll walk you there. I’m in the Residence, on your floor, in the kitchen by the elevator.’

‘Okay.’ She hung up and got out of bed. It was almost a relief to be doing something instead of lying there thinking. She would sleep later.

She put on a jeans jacket over a dark-blue T-shirt and brushed her hair. She walked the length of the Center Hall, entered the kitchen area, and found Gus where he had said he would be, waiting by the elevator. They got in and he pressed the button for the basement.

Pauline suddenly felt discouraged and tearful. She said: ‘All I do is try to make the world a safer place, but it just gets worse!’

There was no security camera in the elevator. He put his arms around her, and she laid her cheek against his shoulder. They stayed like that until the elevator came to a stop, then they separated before the doors opened. A Secret Service agent was waiting outside.

Pauline’s moment of discouragement passed quickly. When they reached the Situation Room she was her normal self. She took her seat, looked around, and said: ‘Chess. Where are we?’

‘Up against the wall, Madam President. Our defence treaty with Japan is a cornerstone of stability in East Asia. We’re obliged to defend Japan against attack, and two recent presidents have publicly confirmed that this commitment includes the Senkaku Islands. If we don’t retaliate it makes our treaty with Japan meaningless. A lot hangs on what we do now.’

Doesn’t it always, she thought.

Bill Schneider, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, said: ‘If I may, Madam President?’

‘Go ahead, Bill.’

‘We need to make a serious dent in their ability to attack Japan. If we look at the east coast of China, that’s to say the part nearest to Japan, their main naval bases are Qingdao and Ningbo. I suggest heavy missile assaults on each one, carefully targeted to minimize civilian casualties.’

Chess was already shaking his head in disagreement.

Pauline said: ‘That would be a major escalation.’

‘It’s what we did to the Pyongyang regime – we destroyed their ability to attack us.’

‘They deserved it. They’d used chemical weapons. The world was on our side because of that. This isn’t the same.’

‘I see it as proportionate, Madam President.’

‘All the same, let’s look for a less provocative option.’

Chess said: ‘We could protect the Senkaku Islands with a ring of steel: destroyers, submarines and jet fighters.’

‘Indefinitely?’

‘The protection could be scaled down later, when the threat diminishes.’

The Secretary of Defense, Luis Rivera, said: ‘The Chinese made a film of the bombing, Madam President. They released it to the world – they’re proud of what they’ve done.’

‘Okay, let’s take a look.’

The film came up on a wall screen. There was a long shot of a tiny island, a closer shot of some Japanese sailors planting a flag, and then a Chinese jet taking off from an aircraft carrier. Interspersed with further shots of the jet were close-ups of a young sailor making a rude finger-pointing gesture and another of his comrades laughing.

Luis said: ‘That’s the East Asian version of flipping the bird, Madam President.’

‘I guessed.’ The gesture would have infuriated the Chinese leadership, Pauline thought. Those men were nothing if not sensitive. She recalled the preparations for a meeting with President Chen at a G20 summit: his aides had demanded changes to a dozen minor details that they said would slight him, from the height of the chairs to the choice of fruit in the bowl on the side table.

In the film, the soldiers became alert and took up defensive positions, then the island seemed to explode. As the debris settled, a shot apparently taken from a drone zoomed in on the corpse of a young sailor lying on the sand, and a voice-over in Mandarin with English subtitles said: ‘Foreign armies that violate Chinese territory will all suffer a similar fate.’

Pauline felt sickened by what she had seen and by the pride the Chinese evidently felt. ‘That’s awful,’ she said.

Luis Rivera said: ‘That threat at the end suggests that one ring of steel would not be enough. There are other disputed islands. I’m not sure we could ring them all.’

‘Okay, but I’m still not going to overreact,’ Pauline said. ‘Give me something that’s more than a ring of steel but less than a missile onslaught on mainland China.’