"If I may add to that, Mr. President," interjected Benedict, "the Chinese president has repeatedly escalated his actions with seeming disregard either for the potential consequences or the opinion of the world community. It is my a.s.sessment that he now feels he is in a position to enforce his a.s.sertion that China has sovereignty over the entire area. By either forcing us to stand down or by sinking even part of our fleet and thereby forcing us to withdraw, he would in effect be proving for all to see that no one can oppose him by force. The effect on everything from maritime commerce to oil and gas exploration in the area would be devastating. We simply cannot allow China to control the South China Sea."

The president sat quietly considering what he had just heard, during which time he looked from the SecDef to the DCI and back, as if attempting to ascertain what they were up to. Several uncomfortable minutes ticked by before he spoke.

"Let's a.s.sume Li decides to force the issue, Mel, just how much trouble would the fleet be in?"

"Not taking into account any aces he may be holding, such as diesel-electric subs lying in wait, I would not be able to guarantee that all of our ships would return to port. Remember, aside from his naval a.s.sets, Li could also direct far more land-based aircraft at us than we have available on a single carrier. Furthermore, if the carrier were put out of action, our offensive capability would be severely restricted."

"What about our subs?" asked the president.

"I think it likely that we would take down some of their surface ships and possibly submarines too if it came to that," replied Larimer, "however their far more numerous aviation a.s.sets could conceivably overwhelm us. We need to keep foremost in mind that we are in their neighborhood and any reinforcements would be coming from their side only."

"Recommendations?" asked the president. There was another moment of uncomfortable silence as the leaders of the nation's military and intelligence communities struggled to comprehend the reason for the president's strangely relaxed conversational tone; it was almost as if he was discussing his golf game.

"Frankly, Sir," Larimer began finally, "At this point, I think it is we who are going to have to bluff. If both sides go to wall, they will have a distinct advantage."

"Are you saying that we're going in there on a wing and a prayer?"

Larimer, Benedict, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the Secretary of the Navy looked at each other in disbelief. It had been the president, in his desire to appear the forceful leader, who had ordered the fleet moved into the area, absent any clear or defined goal. Furthermore, he had disregarded their advice to wait until another carrier battle group had been moved nearby in reserve, which has been standard practice since the dawn of warfare.

The CJC, who had been a helicopter pilot, was reminded of a former president, who ordered troops into Mogadishu, Somalia, one of the most heavily armed populations on the planet, eschewing his generals recommendation to bring along some armor, only to have to beg the Pakistanis to send their tanks in to rescue the few survivors of Black Hawk Down. Drawing himself up in his chair, Larimer looked the president in the eye: "As you may recall, Mr. President, we've already got our nose in the door, unless of course you propose to order the fleet to turn around."

James Dahl, Chief of Staff stifled a smile. It had been he who planted the idea that the president order in the 7 Fleet and he who told the president that way, if things went south, he could blame the men he detested for the entire Chinese debacle and then fire them without anyone making the connection to the Tianjin affair. If, on the other hand, things went well, the president would emerge as the forceful leader who put China in its place. Either way, few would remember that their president had tried to sweep what was happening in Tianjin under the rug and had refused to lift a finger to help his countrymen fleeing across the Yellow Sea. How wonderfully short the memory of most Americans, he thought.

Larimer and Benedict had suspected all along it was Dahl who set this up. It was obviously payback for Tianjin and there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing they could do about it, at least not that they would share with Dahl or the president.

"Mr. President," said Larimer, struggling to conceal his anger. "I don't think we can afford not to allow our ships to defend an American-flagged container ship."

"I'll make that decision when the time comes," the president replied coolly, clearly relishing the position in which he had placed the Secretary of Defense.

"Surely you can't be thinking of sending the 7 Fleet in there as spectators."

The president stood up and left the room without responding, followed by a smiling chief of staff.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d couldn't give a d.a.m.n about the men and women he sends into harms way, thought the SecDef. It's all about political gamesmanship. It always is.

When the president and his chief of staff had left the room, Larimer looked over at the Secretary of the Navy and Benedict and smiled.

"Well, gentlemen, looks likes it's Plan B."

Sounding like a multi-car pile up with guitar accompaniment, the din can be heard clearly a block away. From the front door issues a steady stream of young people adorned with a broad array of facial jewelry and haircuts resembling everything from a coal tar volcano to the helmet plume of a Roman Centurion. The aroma from the hair gel alone very nearly smothers the diesel fumes from the buses and trucks on the street. But unless someone in the neighborhood is willing to pay a larger bribe to the police than this very popular music store does, the a.s.sault on the senses will likely continue unabated.

Aside from seeing and being seen, the princ.i.p.al attraction here is the selection of CD's, DVD's and video games. It is enormous, with virtually every popular Western artist as well as Chinese, Thai and Malaysian groups represented virtually all knock-off's. Obtaining most of their inventory from back rooms across the nation's capitol and in other large cities, where young Chinese men and women sit loading blank DVD's into high-volume duplicating machines, these pirate factories turn out millions of DVD's that quickly find their way into thousands of stores.

Over the past thirty-six hours, however, there has been a subtle change with many of the most popular discs being replaced with an altered version. The altered DVD's are being disseminated not only through store sales, but also as giveaways. Thousands upon thousands were being handed out on street corners across China to anyone who would take one. Copies are being left on doorsteps for people to find, tucked under windshield wipers on cars and between seats and gas tanks on motorcycles. The advertised music is still there, but something has been added something undetectable by anyone who plays the disk in the next six hours.

In precisely six hours and seven minutes, he who happens to have one of these disks in his machine or has uploaded it will see a hidden video file that was not made by his favorite group. This file has no t.i.tle, nor is there any music but its sound will resonate across China.

Three hundred feet beneath the surface, a dark shape trailed the convoy at a distance of twenty miles. Though it could easily make twenty-two knots submerged, it needed only twenty to keep up with the slow moving container ship. Like a shark, it would keep its distance until its prey was attacked or wounded by another foe. Then it would move in for the kill. But it was unaware that it was not alone.

Two 'improved' Kilo cla.s.s submarines recently delivered to Vietnam by Russia were silently following the Song cla.s.s sub. With anechoic tiles fitted on the casings and fins to absorb active sonar sound waves to dampen interior noise, the 'improved' Kilo is one of the quietest submarines in the world. And because the Chinese submarine's speed impacted its ability to listen to its surroundings, it could not hear the Vietnamese subs that trailed it.

As China has increasingly produced indigenous designs for its own aircraft, ships and submarines, Russia has turned to Vietnam, one of its biggest consumers of advanced weapons. Vietnam has responded with an insatiable demand and billions in cold, hard currency, the result of a vibrant export economy, one that now was being threatened by China.

As anyone knows, there are few more compet.i.tive fields than arms design and few more lucrative. With billions at stake as well as the critical geo-political goal of preventing China from becoming too powerful, Russia was not only providing Vietnam with its superior weapons but also availing Hanoi of certain intelligence such as satellite observations to give it an edge. If Chinese weapons were shown to be superior to Russia's, billions would be lost. If, on the other hand, Russian-made weapons systems were able to defeat China's best, billions could be made. The fact that neither Russia nor China has ever been choosy about their weapons customers conveniently disposed of any ethical issues.

Russian satellite imagery showing the Chinese destroyers and frigates leaving port had been provided to Vietnam, and its generals and admirals were at this moment updating their strategy to deal with the threat. Unbeknownst to China, the Russians had also rushed certain timely improvements into place. While China was largely motivated by the enormous ego of its current president, Vietnam was motivated by economic survival; it could not allow China to control the sea lanes. Thus, Vietnam was only too happy to pay for what they believed would tip the scales in their favor.

Staring out over the vast expanse of ocean before him, Admiral Wu Aiying felt the vibration of the powerful ship under him as it surged forward like his destiny. On the bridge of the destroyer Lanzhou, he was leading a taskforce that he had no doubt would sink the Vietnamese frigates as well as the container ship they were escorting. His destroyers alone could easily deal with the enemy frigates, but accompanied by two of China's own frigates and two Song cla.s.s submarines as well as another shadowing the convoy, he felt his force capable of dealing a powerful blow even to the American 7 Fleet, should it be so incautious as to challenge him. He did not believe that they would risk losing one of their precious carriers, however; their president was merely attempting to portray himself as courageous, which clearly he was not.

Looking at the latest Chinese satellite images, the American fleet would not be in position to affect the outcome even if it wanted to. It was still east of Taiwan and could not possibly reach the convoy before his own force annihilated it. On its present course, it would be lucky to arrive in time to pick up survivors. And if it dared to send its aircraft, Wu had literally dozens of advanced missiles waiting for them, not to mention many of his own fighters on sh.o.r.e. He found himself almost wishing for the opportunity to defeat one of the Americans' vaunted carriers.

The convoy was presently just east of the Paracel Islands moving a 20 knots. At a speed of 30 knots, his taskforce would intersect it at a point roughly three hundred kilometers west of the northernmost tip of Luzon, the Philippines largest island. The 7 Fleet would likely still be more than four hundred kilometers away, along the east coast of Taiwan. He failed to understand why they would even put themselves at risk over a battle whose outcome they could not hope to influence.

Nuan's parents were not to be denied the opportunity of partic.i.p.ating in what was being planned and no amount of pleading on Nuan's part could dissuade them. Riding inconspicuously in the back of a taxi, the two elderly revolutionaries of another age had between them on the floor of the taxi a box containing what was hoped would be an unexpected surprise for the authorities. They and others like them were busy delivering their packages to other dissidents in key locations across the city. Two and one half hours remained before the hidden video file would be activated on thousands of tablets, laptops and video consoles across the city and elsewhere.

Everything must be in place before then.

When he heard the steel door at the end of the hall being opened, he hoped it meant something to eat. The night and early morning had pa.s.sed with nothing but the faint footsteps of someone switching on the light from outside, which he took to mean it was morning. This time he heard a key being inserted in the lock. The door swung open without revealing anyone. Then a head peered warily around the door frame before two police officers, side arms drawn entered, aiming their guns at the American. He was ordered to turn around and face the wall while a third man cuffed his hands behind him.

These guys are a little nervous, thought Brett. I hope they don't plan on me eating breakfast with my hands behind my back. Then again, maybe they don't plan on me eating breakfast at all.

The now familiar sound of the steel door at the end of the hall announced the arrival of someone else. An officious looking man clad in a lab coat festooned with a stethoscope and carrying a clipboard appeared in the doorway, pausing to stare at the American before entering. Of slender build, he wore his hair short, as might a military man, but his bearing did not suggest a background in the army, rather an air of intellect. His almost perfect English did not detract from that.

"Good morning, Mr. Walker," he said. "I am doctor Wong and I am here to do a routine screening. You will not be injured in any way unless, of course, you attempt to resist, in which case your examination will be performed with you on your back and unconscious."

"Whatever would make you think I'd resist?" quipped Brett.

"Actually, I am a.s.suming you won't because in addition to being drugged, you would also be deprived of the food that awaits you after your examination," replied the doctor.

"As long as it's steak and eggs, examine away," said Brett. "Oh, did I tell you, I like my steak rare?"

"A thoroughly American sense of humor, I see," the doctor replied.

Admiral Wu's stern expression did not betray his excitement; it never did. Dour perhaps best described the perpetual look he wore, at least in front of his subordinates. Even the hair on his broad head appeared to be standing at attention, as if in fear of an insubordinate act. As his taskforce neared the convoy, he could see a nervous mix of antic.i.p.ation and dread on the faces of his bridge officers. From time to time a smile would flicker across one of their faces, draining away for a moment the tension that all men feel before battle. Their first naval engagement would commence in less than one-half hour.

Had the admiral been a sentimental man, he might have felt sorry for the Vietnamese officers aboard their frigates. Their countermeasures had proven useless against the YJ-82 anti-ship missile and they would soon find themselves helpless against another onslaught, which they could neither jam electronically nor shoot down with their point defense weapons. Unlike previous attacks, which had been launched from a hidden submarine, his destroyers would be the first to fire in a bold proclamation of their awesome power.

President Li Guo Peng no longer cared to leave any doubt as to the ident.i.ty of the attackers. On the contrary, he wanted the world to know what his magnificent navy could do to anyone who challenged it. Admiral Wu would first sink the Vietnamese frigates and when their carca.s.ses had slipped beneath the waves, he would approach to within point blank range of the container ship and sink her with his deck guns. Why waste an expensive missile? She would make excellent target practice. He did not envy its crew, deprived of their escorts and watching helplessly as the instrument of their death drew near. When he had watched with satisfaction as the container ship burned then sank, he would turn and parade before the US 7 Fleet to mock their impotence.

All systems had been checked and rechecked. Electronics aboard the anti-ship missiles had been tested. The deck gun had been test fired. Defensive systems and fire-control systems were in perfect working order and the destroyers twin gas turbine engines rated at 48,600 hp were driving her forward at more than 30 knots. In thirty minutes he would broadcast an order for the convoy to turn back. When they ignored the order, he would repeat it one more time before sinking them. The bridge was almost silent, its crew focused intently on their tasks as the clock ticked down.

The admiral did not notice the flashing light on the communications console and was startled when his first officer approached him and saluted.

"Yes, what is it?" the admiral snapped.

"Priority one flash message," replied the first officer.

"Read it to me!"

"To Admiral Wu Aiying, commander Destroyer Lanzhou. From Admiral Chen Lei, commander PLA Navy. American carrier battle group has changed course and is entering the Taiwan Strait. Your destroyers are ordered to detach from taskforce and come about. Make full speed to intercept American 7 Fleet. Frigates accompanying you are to complete the mission, along with supporting submarines. End."

The admiral's face visibly reddened as he struggled to control himself. Minutes from a historic moment, both for the PLA Navy and for himself, he was being ordered to come about. He did not know what the 7 Fleet's intentions were, but by traversing the Taiwan Strait they would of necessity be close to the Chinese coast. He could not conceive of the Americans mounting an attack literally from under the Chinese guns or that they would dare to attack the offsh.o.r.e oil rigs in their path. Their actions made no sense whatsoever. It had to be a bluff and now he had been ordered to respond to it. Only a fool would order such a move and he knew who that fool was.

Li has panicked and ordered Admiral Chen to recall his destroyers. Chen would have recognized it for what it was and called the Americans' bluff. That fool Li is once again playing with his military toys, of which he understands nothing. Idiot!

"Order the frigates to challenge the convoy and sink them if unheeded," he said to his first officer. Then to his exec he said: "Bring the ship about."

Admiral Wu was angrier than he had ever been, but unlike his president, he was a man with steel nerves and the professionalism to follow orders. He would intersect with the 7 Fleet, in what they claim to be international waters, and they would proceed on their course, a blatant display of their contempt for China's declaration of sovereignty over the South China Sea. Li would not have the guts to order his ships to force the Americans to turn around and thus he would once again be shamed, and shame his navy as well. Only the frigates and submarines would get any glory this day. The admiral clenched his jaw as he began a return trip that would take hours, all the while allowing the Americans a lengthy, unopposed cruise along China's southern coast.

67.

It was one of the rare moments when Lee Ming had the apartment to herself. In less than an hour, her mother would arrive home and tell her to get started on her studies. Then it would be help with dinner and clean up afterward and then more studies and so on until the evening was over and it was time for bed. Until recently her mother didn't get home till almost six, but with the factory's shorter hours she felt lucky just to have a job at all. Her father drove a truck and his hours, like those of his wife, had been cut.

But Ming was young and carefree and, as any sixteen year old girl, was happy to be able to enjoy a moment of privacy. She slipped her favorite DVD into the player and began to dance, feasting her eyes on the extravagant and suggestive graphics that accompany most 21 century music videos. Ten minutes later, having just completed, at least in her mind, a wonderful dance sequence with one of the s.e.xiest boys in school, she was still deep in the moment as she awaited the next track.

In her pleasant reverie, she at first equated the unusual sound as the untimely arrival of her parents and started to s.n.a.t.c.h the DVD out of the player. Then she realized that the sound had come not from the front door, but from the speakers themselves. Intrigued and puzzled by this unexpected occurrence, she watched as a conservatively dressed female, seated behind a desk as a newscaster might, suddenly appeared on the screen and began to speak: "Dear fellow citizens, there is nothing wrong with your television or your media. You are watching a file that has been deliberately hidden until this moment and is now being revealed to you in a desperate plea for your help. You do not need to be told that many Chinese citizens are in deep trouble now, with factories closing and millions being laid off. In fact, you may be watching this because you are unemployed, wondering if you will still have a place to come home to in the coming months."

"You are not alone, and you are not at fault. The actions of a few in your government are responsible for the trouble in which we and our beloved nation find ourselves. In the second century of freedom for much of the world, we in China still suffer under the repression of a group of old men who would return us to the days of emperors, a time when citizens could be imprisoned or even killed for the crime of speaking their minds. President Li Guo Peng can never be allowed to become an emperor because China is no longer the Middle Kingdom. It is no longer isolated from the rest of the world so that its bloodthirsty rulers can brutalize and enslave its people in secret."

"Our leaders fear the truth because it shines its light into their dark corners, exposing the lies they tell to keep themselves in power. They imprison thousands of us in secret prisons for the crime of speaking the truth."

"Dear fellow citizens, the truth cannot be a crime, anymore than an emperor can say the sun is not the sun or the moon is not the moon. The sun and moon are in the sky for all to see, and not even an emperor can hide them. Only those whose motives are evil hide the truth. Only those who are afraid of what it says about them attempt to conceal it."

"Today we find ourselves at a juncture. America and the rest of the world are telling our leaders that they can no longer rule by deceit and fear. They must allow us to speak freely as enlightened nations do. We must trade fairly and prosper due to hard work and ingenuity, not dishonesty. Li Guo Peng has responded with force, sinking other nations' ships, murdering sailors and simple fishermen."

"We cannot expect other nations to do for us what we must do for ourselves. Only the Chinese people can change China. In 1989 we came very close to democracy. It was only at the last minute that the government chose to crush us in order to save themselves. But today is different. Today the world watches. Today the world opposes force with trade sanctions, sanctions that are working. Our leaders know they are running out of time, yet they choose violence in a last desperate attempt to stop the inevitable."

"The government can no longer crush us as they did in Tiananmen Square because America and others would further curtail trade. A courageous United States senator speaks n.o.bly and courageously, and our government responds by attempting to a.s.sa.s.sinate him. With that brave senator's help and with the help of the internet, cell-phones, camcorders and computers, we can and will be heard. A million censors cannot silence our voices. But we must first lift those voices. We must mingle them into a chorus that rises over the very thunder and lightning in the sky."

"I urge you to go into the streets and join your fellow citizens in peaceful repudiation of tyranny. You will find other citizens already there who will instruct you in how to first contain the police and army and then convince them that they are us and we are them. We must take great care not to injure or kill them in spite of what they do to us. Otherwise we will become like them and we will have lost our way."

"Victory is in our hands. Go forth and claim it, dear citizens. Love each other."

Lee Ming was stunned. One minute she was expecting to hear the next track of her favorite group; the following minute her world was turned on its head. Was the video created by the police? Could they somehow know who had listened to it? She glanced at the door, a knot of fear twisting in the stomach of a simple sixteen year old girl whose innocent pleasure had somehow trapped her. She began to shake uncontrollably as her mind raced, struggling to understand how she had suddenly been caught up in the dangerous world of the dissident movement. The image of the dreaded police forced its way into her mind.

There are more than 2 million police in China, the result of the authorities' bid to maintain 'stability' at any cost. The largest and most feared police force is the PAP (People's Armed Police), who wear a green uniform similar to that worn by the army. In times of unrest they are frequently called to a.s.sist the army in putting down demonstrations. They are greatly feared by the population for the beatings and torture they inflict.

Lee Ming looked down at her feet; they were frozen in place. She could never remember being so afraid. She looked over at the DVD player. It had seemed like a friend before, the images and music emanating from it providing joy, escape from the dreary, allowing her to dream of wonderful things, exciting people. Now she wondered if it had always been an instrument of the government, just waiting for the opportunity to entrap her. She didn't know what to do, but something inside her needed to share her misery.

With trepidation, she opened the apartment door and peered down the hall, first one way and then the other. It was empty, no one there to point the finger of guilt at her. One of her closest friends lived on the third floor and she desperately wanted to learn if her friend had used her DVD player recently and, if so, what had happened. She almost wet herself as she stood trembling in front of the elevator, hoping that when it opened there would be no police officers standing there. They had already come to her apartment block though not to her floor. A young person on another floor had been dragged away in the middle of the night, terrifying everyone in the building.

The elevator contained only an old man with a small carry bag, obviously on his way to market. He stared at her for a moment and her heart raced. But when she got off on her friend's floor he did not follow. She told herself she was being silly, but the fear did not budge. Pausing at her friend's door to listen, but hearing nothing, she knocked and waited. No one came.

Ming Lee now knew that she would have to go out onto the street. She simply had to know if there were others who had watched the message. As the elevator descended to the lobby, she was breathing in short fast breaths watching the numbers 9,8,7 . . . 3,2,1. The doors parted, revealing only a woman with her hand in a mailbox and a man in front of the next elevator. Again she told herself that she was being silly, but the words were hollow.

On the other side of the thick gla.s.s doors the traffic and the people seemed to be going on their way as usual, cars honking, people on bicycles weaving in and out, buses puffing oily black smoke into the air. It all seemed so normal and yet there was still something about it that she dreaded intensely, as if it were all a play, designed by the government to lull people into a false sense of security until they could be ferreted out and captured.

Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

The sudden change was startling, not only for Admiral Wu who was now heading north at battle speed to meet the 7 Fleet, but for Captain Geng Huichang aboard the Yulin, one of the two Type 053H3 (Jiangwei-II Cla.s.s) 375 foot missile frigates that had been accompanying the destroyers. Five minutes ago he was expected to back up the admiral's destroyers. Now he must complete the mission with only the help of his sister ship, the Yuxi.

It was a capable warship, to be sure, and he would not have been honored with such a position had he not completed his training and years of service with distinction. But watching the fantails of the two great destroyers recede as they sped north was disconcerting, though he would never allow his subordinates to see it on his face. He reminded himself that the Vietnamese frigates had been unable to prevent the submarine-launched YJ-82 anti-ship missile from slamming into the container ship and sinking her. And he carried aboard the YJ-83, a missile with the capabilities of the YJ-82, but with considerably more speed.

There was one other thing: Captain Geng Huichang had never killed anyone. When he'd thought about it in the past, it had always been in the context of defending his country, something he knew he would do without hesitation. But the convoy was hundreds of miles off the Chinese coast and even though his government had decided that almost a million and a half square miles of ocean bordering several other nations was its sovereign territory, it didn't make sense. It reminded him of the actions of another nation in another time.

In the 1930's, j.a.pan had invaded China on a pretext, the way most invasions begin. What followed was bombing, rape, pillage, and murder on a grand scale, simply because j.a.pan wanted something they didn't have and decided to take it. China suffered horribly, by its own account sustaining 35 million dead. When WWII ended, there were still over 1 million j.a.panese soldiers in China. Captain Geng had thought about that many times and had come to the conclusion that China had no more right to the South China Sea than j.a.pan had to China. They simply wanted it.

Now he stood on the command bridge of a powerful warship. In minutes he would give an order that would result in the deaths of many men. He could no longer put the reality of those deaths in the back of his mind simply because it was to have been Admiral Wu leading the taskforce who would give the order to open fire. The admiral was steaming north. Now he was in charge. He had been ordered to attack a convoy and kill men who had harmed neither him nor his nation.

Is this how all wars start, he thought, with men like me who are told to kill and do not have the courage to say no? If I refuse to obey the order to murder, I will be relieved of my command and someone else will issue the order. I will be shot and my family will suffer. My little son doesn't even know what war is and yet by refusing to kill now, I would not affect the outcome out there on the water and I would destroy him as surely as I am about to destroy men I have never met. Is it always so? Are we doomed to kill simply because we are all too cowardly to say no?

"Captain, we are within range of the convoy," announced his first officer. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to hand me the microphone, Lieutenant," Geng answered. The lieutenant watched his eyes as he handed him the microphone. The captain did not return his gaze. He stared out over the ocean as he lifted the microphone to his lips.

"Attention ships of the Vietnamese Navy and the merchant ship you are escorting. The is the captain of the Frigate Yulin of the People's Republic of China. You are in Chinese waters and are hereby ordered to prepare for boarding and inspection. Do you copy?"

"Chinese naval vessel, this is Vietnamese Frigate Dinh Tien Hoang. As you well know, we are in international waters and will proceed accordingly."

Yes, you are right, my Vietnamese captain, thought Geng. You have done no wrong and yet you are about to die for the egos of old men who will never even know your name.

"Attention frigate Dinh Tien Hoang. This is your final warning. Heave to or you will be fired upon."

"We are prepared, Chinese dogs," came the reply.

Captain Geng Huichang turned to his fire control officer.

"Prepare to fire two missiles from Yulin targeting lead Vietnamese warship and two from Yuxi targeting the second."

"I have lock, captain," announced the fire control officer.