"The Chinese are listening, Herb. They think this time he might actually get legislation pushed through Congress."

"It ain't gonna happen," said Rausch. "He hasn't got the votes in the House and I'd never let it come to the Senate floor. He's out of his mind to even think about it. If we start throwing up tariffs, they'll retaliate and we're all screwed."

"You're missing the point, Herb." The president's impatience was beginning to show. "The Chinese have made it very plain, tone down the rhetoric or else. Baines is finding an audience and it's growing. He's got sixteen million unemployed who are believers. The Tea Party's putting up ads saying that we'll never get this economic mess behind us as long as we keep sending jobs to China and borrowing trillions from them. Even some of our own are starting to cover their backsides with anti-China remarks."

"Yeah, but most of them are in the house. I've got my people under control, except for Baines and a couple of others."

"Herb, you're not hearing me. We need money. We need it now. Everything we've been building will come crashing down around our heads if we can't keep funding the expansion. We've made a lot of promises, we've added 120,000 government jobs in Washington alone. Those people are grateful and will express their appreciation with votes. But if we can't keep paying them, they'll throw us under the bus. And as you well know, we've got to create a great many more grateful employees. Not until we have an insurmountable majority can we afford to slow the momentum."

"Tomorrow I'm going to request another increase in the debt ceiling. But it won't do us a d.a.m.n bit of good if we can't find money to borrow. We can't just keep monetizing our own debt; printing money eventually leads to self destruction, and I don't want to be remembered as the president who created the second Weimar Republic, Herb. We've got to sell more Treasuries to China and they've made it very clear what they want in return. First and foremost, they want us to stop beating the protectionist drum. Baines is the drum major and he must be stopped. You've got to put a lid on him, Herb."

"What do you want me to do, Mr. President, have him a.s.sa.s.sinated?" the majority leader said, chuckling to himself.

"However appealing that might sound, it's not gonna happen. What have we got on him, Herb?"

"His military record is sterling. Marine pilot, combat in Iraq 1, Silver Star. There was a divorce, rather messy, but the media has already had their pound of flesh. His girlfriend got beaten up so bad in the press that she left him too. Now he's a half a million poorer and climbs into a cold bed every night."

"Use your imagination, Herb. He's a h.o.r.n.y ex-jar head."

A smile began to form on the Senate Majority Leader's thin lips. After a moment's contemplation the smile faded and he looked at the president.

"I hope you don't expect me to get involved with anything like that."

"No, no, my friend. A dog doesn't c.r.a.p in his own bed. But when it does c.r.a.p, sometimes it gets stepped in."

The trace of a smile had evaporated from the Speaker's face. "I think that would be a bit risky, don't you, Mr. President?" he said, "for all of us."

"Life has risk, Herb. Life has risk."

As he left the oval office, Rausch found himself thinking about the recording system Nixon had installed there, the system that had figured prominently in his downfall. The Senate Majority Leader told himself that there was no way the current president would repeat that dumb mistake, but technology is ubiquitous. Rausch was as partisan as any majority leader in history, but a brave man he was not. Far too close to retirement to put himself in jeopardy, he found himself thinking about how he could insulate himself from this in case it blew up in the president's face.

Glaring at the door through which Rausch had left, the president was filled with contempt. He'd always thought Rausch was a devious and cowardly little whiner. He loved sticking it to the Republicans, but he never had a stomach for real battle. He was the kind who always stuck the knife in from behind.

He picked up the phone and told the operator to put him through to his trusted friend in bean town. The boys in Boston love a fight, he thought, and when they put a knife in someone, they look him in the eye and smile.

"Shumer. What's up, Mr. President?"

"Stuart, I think we're going to need to carve out a little more time when I'm in Boston on Tuesday. Let's look at getting together after the dinner. I've got a project I need some help with."

11.

March 102013 0200 hrs West of Mindoro South China Sea There was no conversation in the control room of the USS Hawaii. The captain sat quietly keeping his counsel while the sonar man listened as intently as he had for his final exam. He'd worked hard to get here and he was d.a.m.ned good.

Captain Sidney Ralston, 42, was himself a graduate of Annapolis and the product of a navy family, his father having served aboard a carrier in the first gulf war. His grandfather had flown an F4 Phantom over Viet Nam, his efforts earning him a stay at the Hanoi Hilton. Though kind and personable to his close friends, the captain projected a certain aloofness to his crew. This was a product of hours spent around his father and grandfather, who counseled him about the importance of not being on too friendly terms with his subordinates. "Your men must first respect you," his father had said, "but they must also fear you, for in combat they cannot hesitate to carry out an order they know may result in their own deaths."

"Sonar. Conn. Contact. Sounds like an old tin can, Sir. It's got to be that destroyer we turned over to the Philippines."

"Conn. Sonar. Designate contact 3 and commence tracking. What do you think, XO?" the captain said.

"He's in his own backyard, Sir. The Chinese may say otherwise, but if I were he, I'd want to know what a Chinese frigate is doing 700 miles from home. He's got some b.a.l.l.s, though, Sir. Those old tin cans couldn't hope to take on a modern frigate. He wouldn't stand a chance."

"Sonar. Conn. Computer says it's the Rajah Humabon. Uh, Oh! It think he's got a problem, Sir. Sounds like that frigate just opened fire with their deck gun!"

"Captain!" the sonar man interrupted. "I just heard a 100mm round hitting the water. Either the Chinese are lousy shots or they're firing across the Filipino's bow." The next words out of the sonar man's mouth had a very different tone, one that could not conceal his fear.

"The sub's opening his outer doors, Sir."

"What in the h.e.l.l is that sub doing, XO? Surely China's not going to torpedo a Philippine naval vessel and risk starting a war."

"That appears to be exactly what's happening, Sir," replied the XO.

"I think it's time for the fly to leave the room, gentlemen, before we get invited to the party. Come about to course 0 -1- 0, make revolutions for 12 knots. Let's see if this boat is as quiet as they say it is."

As the USS Hawaii made a slow turn to the north, the sonar man heard the unmistakable sound of a very large amount compressed air forcing a torpedo into the water.

"Torpedo in the water, pa.s.sive homing type, appears to have acquired the Filipino warship," the sonar man recited with as little emotion in his voice as he could muster.

Approximately two and one half minutes later there was a loud whump, followed by another explosion, forcing the sonar man to pull his headset away from his ears. Even those in the control room not wearing a headset could feel two pressure waves buffet their submarine, indicating that in all likelihood that there would be Filipino widows and orphans this day. This was followed by the announcement that they all knew was coming."

"Torpedo hit, secondary explosions. She's going down."

A deep chill permeated the control room, for these were sounds of a dying ship. Everyone there knew that at this moment, sailors like them were trapped and drowning in compartments of a ship that was headed into the depths of the South China Sea.

12.

March 11 2013 1830 White House Washington DC The President had called his representatives from the National Security Council, Navy, Defense, CIA and the Secretary of State together to address new reports that had been filtering out of the Philippines.

"Gentlemen, Valerie, the Philippine government claims that a Chinese warship without provocation sank a Philippine vessel in international waters, some 700 miles from the coast of China."

The president turned toward the Secretary of Defense. "What have you got, Mel?"

"Mr. President, we're still sorting things out, but it appears that a Chinese frigate hailed BRP Rajah Humabon, a WWII US Destroyer now part of the Philippine Navy, which was sailing approximately 70 miles off the coast of Palawan, clearly in international waters. The Chinese frigate claimed the Philippine vessel was in Chinese waters and ordered it to withdraw. When it declined to do so, shots were fired across its bow."

"The Philippine government claims the Chinese frigate not only fired across the bow of their ship but then proceeded to sink it."

"The USS Hawaii was at that time on routine patrol at a depth of 400 feet in the South China Sea north of the Spratly Islands, which China claims as their own. As you know, communicating with a submerged nuclear submarine is a bit convoluted, but we sent a message alerting him to the fact that we needed to communicate. A little while ago, we received his reply."

"It appears true that the Chinese frigate fired two warning shots at the Philippine vessel, but did not, repeat, did not sink it. At the same time a Chinese Song cla.s.s submarine that was submerged in the same area, fired a single torpedo which hit the Philippine ship. There were secondary explosions and she was sent to the bottom, apparently with all hands."

"d.a.m.n it! Mel, I'm lost here," interrupted the president. "A Chinese frigate approximately 700 miles from home fires warning shots at a Philippine warship, basically in its own waters, while a submerged Chinese submarine, also roughly 700 miles from home prepares to sink her with a torpedo. Have I got that right more or less, Mel?"

"Basically, yes," replied the SecDef.

"Ok, I guess what I can't even begin to understand is why the h.e.l.l would they do that?" continued the president. "Anyone?"

Thomas Benedict, Director of Central Intelligence took a deep breath.

"I think I may be able to hazard an educated guess, Mr. President."

"Please do, Tom," the president replied, staring intently at the DCI.

"As you know," began Benedict, "China has laid claim to virtually the entire South China Sea, some 1.4 million square miles. May I remind you that not only is this area bordered by Taiwan, Malaysia, Brunei, Indonesia, Philippines, Singapore, and Viet Nam, but the region has proven oil reserves of 7.7 billion barrels with an estimate of 28 billion barrels in total and natural gas reserves of around 266 trillion cubic feet, not to mention the fact that more than 50% of the world's annual merchant fleet tonnage pa.s.ses through these waters. China's goal was obvious."

"Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Jiang Yu has stated: 'China enjoys indisputable sovereignty over the South China Sea and the islands.'"

"They appear to have embarked on an increasingly aggressive program to drive home that claim. There have been attacks on Vietnamese fishermen, as well as other incidents where shots were fired across someone's bow. Then there was a mysterious transmission to an Indian warship on a friendly visit to Viet Nam ordering her to basically bug out. Later a quote 'Chinese fishing vessel' rammed the exploratory equipment of a Vietnamese exploration ship mapping the seabed. Obviously, this would appear to be a major escalation of that pattern."

"O.K," said the president, "but why the frigate and the submarine?"

"I have a theory," answered the DCI. "The Chinese wanted to make a point and make it powerfully; the sinking of the Philippine ship has succeeded in doing that and has sown considerable fear. But the Chinese are not yet ready to start openly sinking other nations' ships. That is why they left themselves a back door by claiming that they only fired warning shots across the bow and didn't sink anything. Plausible deniability."

"We know about their submarine, but they don't know that we know. The question is: what will we do with that knowledge? I think they have unknowingly handed us some very powerful leverage. If we were to reveal what actually happened, there would be significant repercussions that would cast them in a very bad light."

The DCI was looking at the president, whom he could see was not terribly enthusiastic about the turn of events. The president knew that in the game with the Chinese, he had just been dealt a face card, but he also knew that playing it would be a very bad move. Besides, the Chinese were holding all the aces. Clearly he had hoped there would be no proof that the Chinese had sunk the Philippine ship. Now, not only was there proof; he was holding it, and his hands were already starting to burn.

13.

A chrome metal desk and chairs sit in front of sand-blasted red bricks, part of what used to be a warehouse wall. The office is bright and airy, mostly due to large windows and high ceilings. The man sitting behind the desk seems unremarkable, like so many other businessmen. He is neither charismatic nor does he project an air of self-importance. His once blond hair is now thinning and gray.

In the street below, art galleries and trendy restaurants have replaced loading docks and panel trucks. On a typical evening, the streets here are packed with those who can afford a pricey meal or a painting for their apartment walls, but tonight blue helmeted police officers are roping off the front of this building and several others. There are no vehicles parked in front of any of the eateries or night clubs on this block. Their owners know that it is because of the man on the third floor. They are not happy to be losing an evening of business, but none would complain to him, for he has friends, important friends.

A plainclothes police office speaks into his radio, then makes an announcement to the other officers around him. They look up as a caravan of jet black vehicles rounds the corner, large SUV's with dark windows escorting a heavy black limo. Like cruisers guarding an aircraft carrier, they surround the limo protectively, alert for the unexpected. Slowly the procession comes to a stop in front of the building where the man waits.

Minutes later, the president sits across from an old friend in whom he has placed considerable trust. On many occasions, the president's career has rested in the hands of this una.s.suming man. He is both an operative and a strategist. He understands and deftly wields the power of the Boston political machine and has used it to put the man who sits before him in the White House. He intends to keep him there.

"Feels great to be back, Stuart," said the president. "I always feel hemmed in when I'm in Washington. It's like in a zoo, only the animals are looking in and I'm looking out."

"I know the feeling, Mr. President. It's part of the reason I never wanted to work in Washington. This is where I belong. In Washington, I'd always be an outsider; I don't think I'd ever feel at home there. How did the fund raiser go?"

The president looked over at the Secret Service agent who was standing by the door. His look told the agent to wait outside, which he did. When the door was closed he turned back to Shumer.

"Office swept like always, Stuart?"

"Yes sir, once a month and anytime you're coming to town. They're supposed to be the best. What's up?"

"The fundraiser was O.K. You know how it goes. You feed them beefsteak and bulls.h.i.t and they take our their checkbooks. Like church, only there you get the bulls.h.i.t without the beefsteak. Stuart, I got a couple of things I need to bounce off you."

"Shoot."

"This thing in the Philippines is picking up steam. Manila's screaming at China in the UN. As you know, China thinks they own the whole d.a.m.n South China Sea and their hints aren't subtle anymore."

"Did they sink the Filipino ship?" Mr. President.

"Yes and no," the President replied. "Their frigate no, their submarine, yes."

"d.a.m.n!" said Shumer. "What in the h.e.l.l were they thinking?"

"Benedict thinks they wanted to make a big statement but with deniability."

"Deniability?" asked Shumer incredulously.

"Yes, actually," replied the president. "The Chinese frigate fired two shots over the Filipino's bow."

"What about the sub?"

"The sub sank it with a torpedo, but aside from you, me and a few others, no one else knows she was there. You see the Chinese claim that they can prove that their warning shots intentionally missed the Philippine warship by more than two hundred yards. They claim that old WWII destroyer that we turned over to the Philippines somehow managed to blow itself up."

"We think the plan was to scare the h.e.l.l out of everyone without taking the blame. They've upped the ante as far as the South China Sea is concerned, and they'll likely get away with it. But they don't know that one of our Virginia cla.s.s boats was listening."

"Sounds like a gift, Mr. President."

"Yeah, but there's a rattlesnake in the gift box, Stuart. The Chinese have made it abundantly clear what they want in return for continued buying of our treasuries. Refraining from anything more than cursory complaints about their activities in the South China Sea is high on the list. My request to up the debt ceiling again will be moot if we can't borrow the money. And without them it'll be virtually impossible. Besides, I'd rather not advertise the fact that Virginia cla.s.s subs can come and go right under their noses."

"So we leave the box closed for now, Mr. President."

"We've got one thing going for us, Stuart, Filipino fishermen who were nearby that night claim they heard two shots. They say a couple of minutes elapsed between that and the explosions that sank the ship. This leaves the Chinese virtually untouched; it's just what they were looking for and I believe it's precisely how they planned it. They were simply warning anyone who enters what they claim as their waters while denying they sank anyone's ship."

"Sounds a bit too tidy to be Washington, Mr. President. What if somebody leaks that a torpedo sank the destroyer?" asked Shumer.

"I've been a.s.sured that the ocean there is far to deep to prove anything. The Chinese are nothing, if not thorough."

"Then why do I think you didn't come all the way here to tell me that, Mr. President?"

The president flashed the smile that so many love, and laughed. "You've been around politics too long, my friend. You can smell the skunk when it's still in the next county."

"Any chance the skunk's name is Baines?"

The president chuckled. "He's using the Philippine thing to stir up more support for tariffs and it's working. If your job left the country and you're angry, China is an easy target for that anger. But it's not China that has to deal with the anger, it's me. I've got to have China in my corner, but you and I both know that China only does something for one of two reasons: One It's in their best interest. Two They're forced to. And we are in no position to force them to do anything. The problem is, more and more people out there are starting to feel like their government is kissing Chinese a.s.s, and Baines is fanning the flames."

"Do I hear the dust bin rattling?" asked Shumer.