Page 120 of The First Gentleman
CHAPTER 116
The White House
P resident Madeline Wright is sitting in the crowded Situation Room, one floor down from the Oval, watching a situation in the South China Sea unravel.
It turns out the world doesn’t stop just because your husband is on trial for murder.
Around the table are Secretary of Defense George Flanders, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Buck Franklin, Chief of Naval Operations Rick Boone, and Maddy’s national security adviser, Lydia Carmichael.
Junior staff and liaisons are crowded against the walls behind them.
“Can we get any closer?” asks Maddy.
On one of the large screens in the front of the room, an electronic map zooms in on Bajo de Masinloc, also marked as Scarborough Shoal, a small atoll two hundred and twenty kilometers west of Luzon, the largest island in the Philippines.
The tiny scrap of land in the middle of the sea has been a smoldering issue for years.
And now it looks like it’s ready to ignite.
China has claimed sovereignty over the atoll, and crews have constructed floating barriers to block Filipinos from accessing local fishing grounds, areas where they’ve fished for generations.
A few hours ago, a Philippine navy frigate, the brP Antonio Luna, crossed the area, tearing out the floating barriers and taking fire from two lightly armed Chinese coast guard vessels in the process.
The Antonio Luna crew returned fire with rifles.
“Any casualties?” asks Maddy.
“Unknown, ma’am,” says Flanders.
“The shooting has stopped, but our problem is the Chinese navy.”
Maddy looks at Admiral Boone.
“What’s the latest?”
“Chinese destroyers CNS Guilin and CNS Changsha moving at flank speed to the disputed area. We expect them to be on station within the hour.”
“And our assets?” asks Maddy.
“The USS Ronald Reagan carrier group is about two hundred miles south, but well within air cover of the location. And we also have the USS Jefferson City, a Los Angeles–class attack submarine, on patrol nearby. The Jefferson City could be moved closer, Madam President. I wouldn’t consider that a direct provocation.”
“Give the order,” says Maddy.
“The Chinese destroyers are the issue, ma’am,” says Boone.
“We’re not sure what they’re up to. Maybe they’re just coming to show the flag and make a point.”
“Let’s hope that’s all it is,” says Maddy.
“Just some muscle flexing.”
She knows the Philippine frigate is no match for two Chinese warships.
She also knows that if the frigate is attacked or, worse, sunk, a century-old mutual-defense treaty with the Philippines requires a response from the United States.
And once the missiles start flying, there might be no turning back.
“I assume we’re working our back channels,” says Maddy.
“Yes, ma’am,” says Flanders.
“So far, nobody in Beijing is picking up the phone.”
An aide steps forward and slides a slip of paper in front of Maddy.
She flicks her eyes down and reads the note: First Gentleman, line 2.
Maddy glances at the console in front of her and sees the blinking hold light.
She rubs her temples.
Compartmentalize! That’s what this job is all about.
She makes a split-second decision.
She scrawls Not now across the paper and hands it back to the aide.
About ten seconds later, she sees the light blink off.
First prevent Armageddon.
Then return Cole’s call.
Maddy closes her eyes for a moment to clear her head.
When she opens them, she turns to the secretary of defense.
“Get in touch with Manila again. Tell them we advise them to turn their frigate toward the nearest Philippine port—immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looks at Boone.
“Can our carriers communicate directly with the Chinese destroyers?”
“We can try, ma’am.”
“Do it. Make it perfectly clear that if they attack the Antonio Luna, we’ll send them to the bottom of the sea.”
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