The kid with the spiked hair sat at his workstation with Liu’s phone held between his shoulder and his jaw, saying: ‘Yes . . . yes . . . okay,’ his fingers flying over the keyboard all the while.
Liu said: ‘The Jiangnan is a multi-role four-thousand-tonne frigate, one hundred and thirty-four metres long, with a crew of one hundred and sixty-five, and a range of more than eight thousand nautical miles.’
The picture on the big screens showed the grey foredeck of a ship, its pointed prow scything through the water. It was the time of the Northeast Monsoon, and the ship rose and fell precipitously in the waves, so that the horizon went up and down on the screen, making Kai feel slightly seasick. Otherwise, visibility was good; a clear day with bright sunshine.
Liu said: ‘These pictures are being shot from the Jiangnan.’
An aide returned his phone to him.
Liu said: ‘You can just about see the Vietnamese ship on the horizon, but it’s five or six kilometres away.’
Kai peered at the big screen and thought he could see a grey smudge on the grey sea, but it might have been his imagination.
Liu spoke into the phone. ‘Yes, show us the satellite picture.’
Some of the screens showed a distant aerial shot. The person operating the screens zoomed in. Two vessels were just discernible. ‘The Vietnamese ship is the one at the bottom of the screen,’ said Liu.
Kai looked back at the video feed from the Jiangnan. It was closer to its target now, and Kai could see the Vietnamese vessel better. It had a drilling tower amidships. He said: ‘Does the Vu Trong Phung have any armament?’
‘None visible,’ said Liu.
Kai realized they were contemplating sinking a defenceless ship, and he felt a shiver of guilt. How many people would drown in that cold sea? It had been his idea, but he had only wanted to prevent something worse.
Liu said: ‘The Jiangnan is armed with anti-ship cruise missiles, guided by active radar, each with a high-explosive fragmentation warhead.’ He turned to the president. ‘Should I order the crew to prepare to fire?’
Chen looked around the room. Several men nodded.
Kong Zhao said: ‘Isn’t this a bit hasty?’
Chen answered him: ‘It’s now more than twenty-four hours since the drone killed our people. Why should we wait?’
Kong shrugged.
‘I think we’re all agreed,’ Chen said in a sombre voice.
No one dissented.
Chen said to Liu: ‘Prepare to fire.’
Liu spoke into his phone. ‘Prepare to fire.’
The room fell silent.
After a pause, Liu said: ‘Ready to fire, Mr President.’
Chen said: ‘Fire.’
Liu said into the phone: ‘Fire.’
Everyone watched the screens.
The missile flew over the prow of the Jiangnan. It was six metres long and it trailed a spurt of thick white smoke. It shot away from the Jiangnan at astonishing speed.
Liu said: ‘We’re getting video from the missile’s onboard camera.’ A moment later a new image appeared. The missile’s speed over the waves was blinding. The Vietnamese ship grew larger every second.
Kai looked back to the view from the Jiangnan again. A second later the missile hit the Vu Trong Phung.
The screens whited out, but only momentarily. When the picture came back, Kai saw a huge blaze of white, yellow and red fire bursting from the middle of the ship. The flames were chased by black and grey smoke and showers of debris. The noise arrived moments later, picked up by the camera’s microphone, a bang then a roar of burning. The flames died down as the smoke bloomed. It rose high in the air, and so did fragments of the hull and the superstructure, heavy lumps of steel flying like leaves from a tree in a gale.
Much of the ship was still visible above water. The middle was smashed and the drilling tower was slowly sinking, but the prow and stern seemed intact, and Kai thought some of those aboard might have survived – so far. Was there time for them to find life jackets or launch lifeboats before the ship sank?
President Chen said: ‘Order the Jiangnan to rescue survivors.’
Liu said: ‘Prepare to lower rescue boats.’
Moments later the Chinese ship picked up speed and began to race through the waves. Liu said: ‘Its top speed is twenty-seven knots. It will get there in about five minutes.’
The Vu Trong Phung remained miraculously afloat. It was sinking, but slowly. Kai asked himself what he would have done if he had been aboard and survived the blast. He thought the best course would have been to put on a life jacket and then abandon ship, either in a lifeboat or simply by jumping into the sea. The ship would go down sooner or later, and anyone still on board would go down with it.
The Jiangnan curved away then approached the Vu Trong Phung on a parallel course but at a safe distance. On the surface of the sea the camera showed one lifeboat and several heads of people floating on the waves. Most of them had life jackets on, so it was difficult to know whether they were dead or alive.
A minute later three of the Jiangnan’s boats appeared, going to the rescue.
Kai peered more closely at the heads in the water. All were dark, he saw, except for one, which had long blonde hair.
CHAPTER 25
President Green paced up and down in front of the desk in the Oval Office, seething. ‘I’m not going to stand for this,’ she said. ‘Corporal Ackerman was one thing, that was terrorism, even if they did have Chinese guns. But this? This is murder. Two Americans are dead and one is in the hospital because the Chinese deliberately sank a ship. I can’t take this lying down.’
‘You may have to,’ said Chester Jackson, the Secretary of State.
‘I must protect American lives. If I can’t do that, I’m not fit to be president.’
‘No president can protect everybody.’
The news of the sinking of the Vu Trong Phung had just come in. But this was the second crisis of the day. Earlier there had been a Situation Room meeting about the drone that attacked Port Sudan. Pauline had ordered the State Department to assure the governments of Sudan and China that this was not an American attack. The Chinese refused to believe it. So did the Russians, who traded with Sudan and sold them costly arms; the Kremlin had protested loudly.
Pauline had established that the drone had ‘gone missing’ during an exercise in Chad, but this was too embarrassing to be admitted publicly, so the press office had announced that the army was conducting an investigation.
And now this. Pauline stopped pacing, sat on the edge of the ancient desk, and said: ‘Tell me what we know.’
Chess said: ‘The three Americans aboard the Vu Trong Phung were employees of American corporations on loan to Petrovietnam, the government oil company, under a State Department scheme to help Third-World countries develop their own natural resources.’
‘American generosity,’ said Pauline angrily. ‘And see how we’re rewarded.’
Chess was not as agitated as she was. ‘No good deed ever goes unpunished,’ he said equably. He looked at the sheet of paper in his hand. ‘Professor Fred Phillips and Dr Hiran Sharma are presumed drowned – their bodies have not been recovered. The third geologist was rescued: Dr Joan Lafayette. They say she’s in hospital for observation.’
‘Why the hell did the Chinese do this? The Vietnamese ship was unarmed, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. There’s no immediate reason that we can think of. Of course, the Chinese don’t like the Vietnamese looking for oil in the South China Sea, and they’ve been protesting about it for years. But we don’t know why they decided to take such drastic action now.’
‘I’m going to ask President Chen.’ She turned to her Chief of Staff. ‘Put in a call, please.’
Jacqueline picked up the phone on the desk and said: ‘The President would like to speak with President Chen of China. Schedule it as soon as possible, please.’
Gus Blake said: ‘I can guess why they did it.’
Pauline said: ‘Do tell.’
‘It’s retribution.’
‘For what?’
‘Port Sudan.’