The Rule Of The People (Conspiracy Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  THE RULE OF

  THE PEOPLE

  By

  Christopher Read

  BOOK THREE OF THE CONSPIRACY TRILOGY

  THE RULE OF THE PEOPLE

  Copyright © 2016 by Christopher Read

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, other entities, places and incidents portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, real-life entities, past or present, or actual incidents, is entirely coincidental.

  1.0

  The South China Sea

  Map illustrating the various territorial claims, courtesy of www.southchinasea.org

  Contents

  Prologue – Thursday, November 10th

  Chapter 1 – Friday, November 11th

  Chapter 2 – Saturday, November 12th

  Chapter 3 – Sunday, November 13th

  Chapter 4 – Monday, November 14th

  Chapter 5 – Tuesday, November 15th

  Chapter 6 – Wednesday, November 16th

  Chapter 7 – Thursday, November 17th

  Chapter 8 – Friday, November 18th

  Chapter 9 – Saturday, November 19th

  Chapter 10 – Sunday, November 20th

  Chapter 11- Monday, November 21st

  Chapter 12 – Tuesday, November 22nd

  Chapter 13 – Wednesday, November 23rd

  Chapter 14 – Thursday, November 24th

  Chapter 15 – Friday, November 25th

  Chapter 16 – Saturday to Monday, November 26th to 28th

  Map of the South China Sea

  Prologue – Thursday, November 10th

  Zhanjiang, China. – 16:36 Local Time; 08:36 UTC

  Hypocrites, liars and opportunists: China’s near neighbours were finally showing their true nature, each prepared to do whatever was necessary to twist the truth in order to suit their own ends. It was a challenge China had neither asked for nor wanted, but if it was anticipated Beijing would shy away from the inevitable military confrontation then that would be a serious misjudgement and the Politburo was committed to defending its sovereign territory, whether that was an intractable region to the north or the island groups of the South China Sea.

  Major-General Liang sat in the basement bunker of the Naval Command Centre, listening carefully as the Commander of China’s South Sea Fleet led a briefing on the latest military assessments, the Admiral’s combination of facts and suppositions producing a fairly unsatisfactory glimpse of what the immediate future might hold. An effective and experienced speaker, the Admiral’s outrage at those who condemned China was obvious to all, his fears rather more difficult to judge.

  For the most part his contempt was directed solely at the United States and the tactical display directly behind him revealed the U.S. Navy gathering its strength in the South China Sea with yet more vessels soon to arrive from Japan and Hawaii. Their intentions were unclear, the American Commander perhaps merely awaiting the order to attack and impatient for the White House to issue the command. The calming influence of diplomacy had been abandoned for the time being and China’s Politburo seemed content to ride out the storm of accusations while preparing for the worst.

  The financial cost of the accelerating crisis was already extreme, the Shanghai Composite Index down fourteen percent since Monday and the 2015/16 crash would be nothing compared to the turmoil a war – even a minor one – would bring. The Politburo had always managed to gloss over China’s many internal problems, a combination of sustained growth, increasing wealth and stability ensuring the silent majority had little cause to be anything other than compliant. Now that stability was under threat, the army likely to be needed to bolster the country’s internal security with every terrorist and dissident looking to take advantage.

  China’s military command was led by the eleven men of the Central Military Commission (CMC), the President its chairman and Commander-in-Chief of China’s armed forces. General Liang’s position with the CMC’s Strategic Support Force meant he had a voice if not a vote at the recent crisis meetings and despite the posturing of the U.S. Navy, the Commission’s most immediate concern lay to the north, the Russian Bear finally unsheathing its claws. China’s north-west region of Xinjiang was already a hot-bed of dissent and nationalist tensions, thousands of Russian troops now poised to invade, their target Xinjiang’s oil and mineral wealth. A second Russian army was gathering strength to the north-east, between the cities of Khabarovsk and Vladivostok, ready to strike at China’s industrial base.

  North, east and south: China’s enemies conspired together to subdue the dragon in their midst and Liang was well aware that it would be a struggle to defend the country from two or more separate threats. Yet Russia’s actions might still be nothing more than a diversion, the Kremlin perhaps content to wait whilst others first tested China’s resolve. Vietnam’s mainly conscript army was large enough to cause concern and Hanoi even seemed willing to endanger its six Russian-built attack submarines; to the south-east, the Philippines’ military forces were relatively inconsequential but not so the two strike groups from the United States.

  Fear of China ran deep and how many more would be brave enough to throw in their lot with such an unstable and unwieldy coalition, its actions justified by nothing more than exaggeration and deceit? Intelligence suggested Australia might well be the next, with South Korea and Taiwan – even Japan – nervously working out how best to respond while fearful that North Korea would then be forced into choosing China over Russia.

  Like his naval counterpart, General Liang’s mood was also one of anger and frustration, his informal visit to Zhanjiang a way of ensuring the Admiral and his staff were fully committed to the difficult challenges ahead, whether real or simply exaggerated. The crisis had already seen scores killed and only the previous day Chinese and American fighters had traded missiles with four aircraft destroyed in a futile test of brinkmanship. Under different circumstances such over-enthusiasm could easily have merited a medal, maybe even a promotion; now each error of judgment merely pushed China closer to war.

  Such acts were at least genuine mistakes, China accused of unprovoked attacks against two warships: one Vietnamese frigate sunk, the USS Milius damaged, no prior warnings given. The United States might have prevaricated in identifying those responsible, but others had been quick to blame both incidents on the Chinese submarine Taizong, the sonar evidence provided by the Americans and Vietnamese duly analysed and argued over, it all seeming to confirm their version of events. Yet the Taizong had been decommissioned earlier that year, the hull already broken up. Beijing had argued and ridiculed to no avail, and for many on the CMC it merely proved the existence of a US-led conspiracy with China the innocent victim, the collusion of China’s neighbours a truth that could no-longer be ignored. Russia too had been surprisingly quick to join the informal alliance against China, willing even to condone the shelling of its own people – anything to give Russia the excuse it needed to attack its neighbour.

  Despite the turmoil of the past week, China’s political leaders still sensed an opportunity here, and control over three more of the Spratly Islands was considered a reasonable exchange for being a temporary outcast; it wasn’t just the strategic importance of the islands, the Politburo trusting that the natural resources hidden within the
South China Sea would be a bounty worthy of some sacrifice. The political in-fighting which now consumed the United States, and to a lesser extent Russia as well, only served to encourage the long-term view, and many in the Politburo were fully prepared to dismiss the raw power of the U.S. Navy to urge that China should take what it could while America remained divided, its president unlikely to last out the day.

  If there was to be a war, then it would be one where neither side could actually achieve a decisive victory, the nuclear threat one that could never be completely ignored. The CMC’s strategy was thus based on the assumption China could simply wear its enemies down, superiority in numbers ensuring that any Russian or Vietnamese land assault would soon falter; the key struggle would then move three thousand kilometres south of Beijing to the waters surrounding the Paracel and Spratly Islands. There might perhaps not be a single explosive battle, it more likely a conflict of cut and thrust, a tit-for-tat series of clashes with everyone wary of it escalating out of control. The carrier strike group led by the Gerald R Ford remained an intimidating presence and a second strike group from the U.S. Seventh Fleet – headed by the Ronald Reagan – would arrive within hours. Either of the American carriers was more than a match for their lone Chinese counterpart, the Liaoning, but China’s navy had plenty of other cards to play, the submarine and missile threats potentially able to overwhelm a strike group’s defences.

  Or at least that was the theory, a range of differing scenarios due to be analysed in more depth at the end of the briefing, the Admiral and his senior staff well aware that they would be held responsible for any serious mistakes or misunderstandings, with only one outcome likely from the subsequent court-martial.

  Liang might be the CMC’s representative but he had a very different opinion as to the relative dangers facing his country. He had no naïve belief that China could cope for more than a few weeks with a war on two fronts, and their only hope would be to neutralise either Russia or the United States, and quickly; the CMC clearly underestimated the determination of those arrayed against China, its members persuaded into believing that America was soft and Russia corrupt.

  Lulled into a false sense of security by the forces at its disposal, the ruling Politburo was impatient to show the world the true worth of Asia’s sole superpower. In another ten or twenty years the politicians’ arrogance might well be justified, but for now it was merely an idle boast, the consequences for China and its people likely to be nothing less than a disaster.

  Chapter 1 – Friday, November 11th

  Washington, D.C. – 12:02 Local Time; 17:02 UTC

  Anderson sat in the Smithsonian’s Moongate Garden, enjoying the peace and tranquillity, needing somewhere well away from the FBI’s mobile command centre to relax and reflect on why he was not already on a flight home to the UK. There was also the vague hope that the symbolism of the garden’s circles and squares would work some form of healing magic on his body, Anderson wincing with just the thought of eventually having to stand up.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad if the bruises and scrapes had actually been as the result of something worthwhile, but true to form Pat McDowell had been unwilling to oblige. The FBI was still no nearer making an arrest, resources having to be diverted to deal with the aftermath of McDowell’s earlier actions and several parts of the National Mall remained cordoned off. Flowers and messages of condolence surrounded each bloodied scene, people standing in respectful silence while trying to make sense of what had happened just forty-eight hours earlier. Nine had died that day, the Mall the setting for a chaotic scramble to escape as without warning violence had flared. Two agents had also been killed, yet many observers were still keen to condemn the Secret Service and FBI for starting it all, the media over-analysing each new image in order to apportion blame. Anderson’s prominent role in the resulting melee was now part of a Department of Justice investigation, his every action subject to minute scrutiny.

  Could he have really done more to prevent it? It was becoming a pointless exercise in self-doubt, others just as guilty as Anderson of mistakes or simple misjudgements, the animosity between the FBI and the D.C. Police revealed for all to see. With the Capitol Building virtually under siege and a beleaguered president struggling to tell friend from foe, the end result had seemed almost inevitable. Now America had a new and untested occupant of the Oval Office, Bob Deangelo’s whirlwind rise to power seeing him take a new oath of allegiance twice in less than twenty-four hours – first as Vice-President, then as President. The legal and constitutional experts were still arguing as to the validity of the accelerated process, with Congress apparently regretting its own impetuosity; yet many in America had demanded someone more dynamic in the White House, a person able and willing to lead the fight-back against Chinese aggression.

  Anderson’s brief time in America had so far proved fairly contentious, his status seemingly varying from day to day: tourist, fugitive, FBI consultant – even Anderson found it hard to keep up. Although The Washington Post was keen to maintain contact, he was still theoretically at the Bureau’s beck and call, Anderson working hard to convince them that he really had paid his dues; he certainly couldn’t just get on a plane and head back to Heathrow, his passport, phone and laptop still being held somewhere inside the FBI’s Hoover Building.

  For the moment such restrictions were merely an irritation, the conflict between his present commitments and his personal life rather more of a problem. Charlotte’s patience had already been stretched to the limit and she was starting to sense that Anderson was quite happy with his enforced stay in the U.S. Although he hadn’t admitted as much, to return home while the crisis in Washington remained unresolved would be idiotic; some unexpected political twist was being revealed every few days and the new man in the White House had set himself a tough agenda, perhaps even an impossible one.

  The rapid demise of President Will Cavanagh had in turn led to a rash of conspiracy theories, some cleverly throwing Pat McDowell into the mix, a few assuming that Bob Deangelo was involved to some extent. The official news media were rather more generous, recognising that Bob Deangelo’s confirmation as President was an inevitable consequence of Cavanagh’s increasing isolation, the key moment when Secretary of State Dick Thorn had broken ranks to show his contempt for Cavanagh.

  From the FBI’s perspective, there were just too many unanswered questions to be certain who was involved and to what degree. McDowell and his sophisticated operation wouldn’t have come cheap, no expense seemingly spared; yet every new financial lead had quickly stalled as it came up against another dummy corporation or some foreign-based ghost company. Whilst a handful of McDowell’s accomplices had been arrested, several of the main players remained unknown, prime amongst them McDowell’s likely contact within the FBI. It was a problem that had dogged the investigation from the start, McDowell able to stay one step ahead and maintain the pressure on Cavanagh’s Administration.

  Spying on the new President and his close associates might not be the wisest of options, even for the FBI, and that one crucial image or recording that would tie everything together now seemed likely to be buried forever. At the very least, the FBI’s Washington investigation would be reined in, its focus directed well away from the President and his inner circle – if the latter eventually turned out to include Dick Thorn then the conspiracy theorists could rightfully lick their lips in anticipation.

  It wasn’t in Anderson’s nature to leave such mysteries for others to solve but by himself his resources were severely limited, and his relationship with the FBI was one based on mutual interest, Anderson very aware of the penalty should he ever abuse his special status. The Bureau still seemed unsure how best to make use of his slightly unpredictable skills, yet nor were they willing to let him go it alone: he was after all the supposed expert on Pat McDowell, a reputation based more on an unfortunate predilection for being in the wrong place at the wrong time than any true understanding of the American’s convoluted thought processes.

>   * * *

  Paul Jensen waited in the outer office impatient to get the meeting over and done with. He was feeling more bitter than he had expected, unhappy at it being the first time in his career he would suffer the ignominy of being fired, angry also that it would be the U.S. President doing the firing.

  Jensen had spent the morning at Arlington National Cemetery, one of several Cabinet members attending the Veteran’s Day ceremony; the Deputy Defence Secretary had been primed to lay the wreath on behalf of the President but Bob Deangelo would have none of it, Arlington becoming his first official duty. It wouldn’t have been that unusual for a president to miss the ceremony, but it was the only time the organisers had spent the early hours of the morning making sure everyone actually knew the name of their nation’s leader.

  Bob Deangelo’s speech afterwards has been suitably presidential, focusing on past sacrifices and future concerns, America committed to standing by those who had given so much to protect their country. The problem of the South China Sea was only briefly mentioned, the President hinting that the nation might again be touched by loss. It was a good speech, not overly sombre, with a suitable element of praise for the armed forces, yet illustrating Deangelo was well aware of the pain and hurt associated with even a single death in the service of one’s country.

  It had been a competent start to his first full day in Office and Deangelo was no doubt keen to cement his authority, ridding the Administration of anyone who might not be totally loyal. Jensen was definitely in that category and still struggling to work out whether Deangelo had been involved in his predecessor’s demise by accident or design.

  Jensen’s musings were interrupted by the buzz of the office phone, the secretary’s polite smile giving nothing away as she directed Jensen to go straight in. A deep breath to steady his nerves and Jensen strode across the threshold into the Oval Office, running through in his mind exactly how to react and what to say when told he no longer had a job; polite restraint and a few curt words of acceptance had been his favoured option, such stoicism now seeming totally inadequate.