Palmer turned to the room and said, “Could Defense, State, and the CIA stay behind?”
The people milling about heard the command, and Ian McKellar, the DNI, said, “You want me here as well?”
Which Wolffe knew was a nonstarter. McKellar was the highest intelligence official in the land, but he wasn’t read on to Project Prometheus.
Palmer said, “No, Ian, we’re good.”
McKellar nodded slowly, knowing he was being cut out of something, but not questioning why.
Wolffe felt his pain.
The director of national intelligence position was created after 9/11, and as such it was much too political for something as sensitive as Project Prometheus. Wolffe personally thought the DNI job was a waste of time—nothing more than a political rat trap created to show the world that the United States understood the mistakes that had occurred leading to 9/11—but he genuinely liked McKellar. He was a good man, but that alone wouldn’t let him in the door. His position had too many other interests to allow a look into Project Prometheus. It was, in intelligence parlance, close hold for a reason.
Palmer leaned into President Hannister’s ear and whispered. The room cleared out, leaving the four members of the Oversight Council known as the principals.
When the final person left and the door closed, President Hannister said, “Okay, Wolffe, what’s the lockdown for?”
Wolffe said, “Sir, I know you have a lot on your plate, but Pike is still on the hunt. You told me to turn him loose, and I did.”
Hannister smiled and said, “Yes. As I remember, we have an Australian national in quarantine because of his actions. What’s your point?”
Wolffe could see the stress on the man, and knew he needed to be precise. Whatever love the president held for Pike wasn’t going to be enough to allow him to continue. To get approval for Omega actions, he needed to prove his case.
He said, “You told me once that Pike could save the F-35 program or save the world, and I think that has become true. But it’s not the F-35 program. He might just save the world. He’s in the air to Taiwan, but I need Omega authority to let him work.”
Alexander Palmer said, “What? Why’s he flying to Taiwan?”
Wolffe turned to him and said, “Because he missed Jake Shu. That traitor is on his way to Taiwan as well, and he’s not going there to sell dumplings. I think China is going to attempt a takeover of Taiwan.”
The secretary of defense said, “Oh, bullshit. This is just another one of China’s blusters. They aren’t going to cross the strait when they’re spending all of their political capital building up islands in the South China Sea. That makes no sense.”
Wolffe said, “It makes perfect sense. China builds up the islands to get us to focus on them, then they foment instability in Taiwan. Then, when we’re all worried about ‘freedom of navigation’ operations, they invade. Fait accompli.”
The SECDEF leaned back and said, “You miss one point. They can’t invade without an army to do so. We’d see indications of that threat.”
“They have the army. They’re executing massive exercises right across the strait, practicing assaulting the island every day.”
“They do that all the time—especially during a presidential election. It’s what they’ve done for the last fifty years.”
Wolffe sighed and said, “The boy who cried wolf. Ever heard of that story? Yeah, they’re doing the same exercises we’ve seen for years, but have you ever thought that maybe—just maybe—those exercises were for a reason? Causing us to become complacent?”
Amanda Croft said, “That’s like a hammer looking for a nail. Yeah, they have done them year after year, but why should we assume this year is different?”
The director of the CIA, Kerry Bostwick, said, “I agree. China knows that we can crush them if they attempt a unilateral assault without provocation. If they attempted to attack the ROC from a cold start, they know we’d defend them.”
Wolffe said, “Would we? Really? After all of our adventures in the Middle East? Would we jump to get in a fight?”
Incensed, the SECDEF said, “Of course we would. We have a treaty.”
Wolffe let a grim smile leak out, saying, “We don’t have a treaty. We have a nebulous ‘cooperation agreement.’ We’ve spent the last three decades waffling. What if China thinks we won’t press it? We didn’t in Hong Kong.”
“Hong Kong was a British protectorate that was given back to China. How were we supposed to engage there?”
Wolffe said, “I’ll give you that. It’s true, but why would China think any differently about Taiwan? While we’re more concerned about Afghanistan or Iraq or other things? I mean, we’ve let them build up fighting platforms in the South China Sea and done nothing. They’ve basically taken the Nine-Dash Line and made it real, and we’ve spent our time fighting in places with nothing but sand, not opposing them.”
Bostwick started to protest, and President Hannister held up a hand, saying, “I agree with all you’ve said, but China has to know that if they conducted an invasion of Taiwan there would be unacceptable risks. And the rest of the world would be on Taiwan’s side.”
“Sir, Taiwan can’t impose unacceptable risks when they’re in turmoil. China is instigating these protests for a reason. Taiwan is consumed by the unrest. They’re now using the military to put them down. They aren’t looking at the threat across the strait, and because of that, I think China’s going to attack.”
The SECDEF said, “If they attack from a cold start, we’ll intervene. They know that. I agree with what was said in the briefing by the DNI. They’re going for the gray war victory, and we’ll have to fight them on the gray war. There is no way that China will initiate a cold-start invasion.”
Wolffe nodded and said, “I think you’re right. But what if it wasn’t a cold-start invasion?”
President Hannister said, “What’s that mean? They can’t invade the country invisibly.”
Wolffe turned to the only man in the room who mattered and said, “What if Taiwan attacked China first?”
Chapter 72
Entering the Chiang Kai-Shek memorial square just down the street from the presidential palace, Paul couldn’t believe the numbers of protestors, amazed at their fury. It was something he watched on the news of other countries, not of his own. The air was full of smoke and the whiff of tear gas, with armored police vehicles ringing the park and police officers unsure of their orders, but still shouting into loudspeakers in an attempt to quell the unrest, the cacophony of noise overwhelming.
The protestors had come looking for a reason to fight, but were unsure of what they were fighting about, energized by nothing more than a few social media posts—and the Bamboo Triad. It was a tinderbox waiting on a match. The last thing he wanted was to be arrested along with the protestors, but it was looking like that would happen if he lingered.
He threaded through the crowd, hearing them chant hatred against the government and seeing multiple people holding up the videos that had been released on their tablets and phones. He had no ability to control the end state, but he did have the ability to control the why.