The warrior and the diplomat made eye contact. Faint smiles flickered across their impassive faces. Little was said and much was understood.
"Please convey to His Majesty my deepest gratitude for this honor."
By the end of the week, the 7th Rifles were out of the country, and for some unaccountable reason, they wound up in Manila, billeted in the same hotel as the Crown Prince Omar Bolkiah. At the same time, the 14th Gurkhas were held up in transit. Problems with paperwork, it was said. Diplomatic channels hummed with profuse apologies, while Malaysian authorities scrambled to recruit temporary security guards. For now, though, the new Sultan had only a Malaysian shield.
Prime Minister's Residence, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 1430 hours, September 10th, 2008
It was intolerable. The Prime Minster was not a patient man. He had devoted a long career to building up his fragile nation into a respected regional economic and military power. And now the insolent American task force, steaming provocatively though his territorial seas, was requesting that Malaysian patrol planes keep a distance of at least 50 nm/91.4 km to avoid "unfortunate incidents." In response, he had summoned the American ambassador and browbeaten the man for half an hour. The bland diplomatic replies about "freedom of navigation" and "precautionary measures" had only infuriated him more. Malays could be a hot-tempered people. Amok is a Malay word, and the Prime Minister was just about ready to run amok. As soon as the American had been dismissed, the Prime Minister grabbed the red phone that connected him directly to the Armed Forces Chief of Staff. He would give them an incident to remember.
Above the South China Sea, 1500 Hours, September 10th, 2008
There was a time when a flight of four vintage MiG-29 Fulcrum-Cs flying top cover for a gaggle of four shiny new F/A-18C Hornets might have seemed bizarre. In the New World Order, though, any mix of aircraft was possible. The Malaysian Air Force had stretched its limited budget by driving hard bargains, East and West, and the result was this formation. Squadron Leader Edward Tawau, call sign Red Dragon, nervously thumbed the stick's radar-mode select switch between air-search and surface-search modes. He didn't like this mission one bit. His orders were to fly directly over the ships of the American task force at low altitude, cracking sonic booms just above their mastheads. At the pre-dawn briefing, the Wing Commander had assured the pilots that the Americans would back off as soon as they understood that Malaysia was serious about enforcing its sovereignty.
The Wing Commander (call sign Blue Python) had been born into a princely family of one of the little sultanates that made up the Malay Federation and trained by the RAF. He was contemptuous of Americans, a strange people, wholly without courtesy and lacking in any sense of family honor or obligation. On the other hand, the Squadron Leader's parents had met in a factory that assembled circuit boards for an American computer company, and he had learned to fly his F/A-18C Hornet in Florida. He might not understand Americans, but he was not likely to underestimate them.
"Red Dragon, this is Blue Python," the radio crackled. "Surface ships bearing one hundred degrees at seventy-five miles." Tawau briefly flicked the switch to surface-search mode to confirm the contact, then went radar-silent. No point in giving the Americans any extra advance warning. They would be over the target in ten minutes. Five minutes later, his radar-warning receiver alarm sounded. One of the American escorts had just locked him up with a fire-control radar. This game of chicken was getting serious!
Combat Information Center (CIC), USS Bon Homme Richard (LHD-6), 1505 Hours, September 10th, 2008
Captain Mike Anderson had seen the incoming flock of fighters at almost 120 nm/220 km, and had already taken measures to deal with the threat. Two AV-8B Plus Harrier IIs loaded with Sidewinders and AMRAAMs on "Plus Five" alert had been launched when the force had hit 100 nm/183 km, and two more were being readied for launch. Then, over the communications net, he heard the PHIBRON commander, a rear admiral, order, "Warning Yellow, Weapons Hold," to the force and its escorts. This meant that an attack was expected, and that weapons could be fired in the event of a hostile act. What was headed their way looked like big trouble, and Anderson ordered General Quarters. It was going to be an exciting few minutes.
Red Python Flight, 1508 Hours, September 10th, 2008
At 65 nm/ 119 km, Squadron Leader Tawau heard an American-accented voice over the Guard channel of his radio warning them to veer off and maintain at least 50 nm/91.4 km distance from the force. Through his headphones, he heard the Wing Commander snort his contempt in response and order the aircraft to continue. It was getting ugly. Tawau decided to check the air situation, and was not surprised to see a pair of unidentified contacts closing in from the side. It got even worse a minute later. After crossing of the 50-nm/91.4-km line, his radar-warning receiver blared, showing a pair of air intercept radars to port. He wanted to order his flight to turn around, but as he moved his finger to press the microphone button, two of his F/A-18s exploded into blazing fireballs, victims of what had to be the fabled AIM- 120 AMRAAM missiles of the American fighters. Then, through the top of his canopy, he saw two MiGs explode in the same way. Over the radio, he heard the Wing Commander call for him to close on the ships and shout, "Weapons free!" on the squadron net. Feeling growing anger at this stupidity, but unable to defy an order, he ordered the surviving Hornet in his flight to follow him, selected afterburner, turned on his jammer, and put the nose over into a dive heading for the amphibious ships. He never saw the Wing Commander's aircraft disintegrate into a ball of fire from a Sidewinder hit and the surviving MiG-29 running for home. He was following the last legal order he had been given, bad as it was.
Minutes later, as the indistinct shapes of the task force appeared as dots on the horizon, he saw the flash and smoke trail that indicated a SAM launch from one of the escorts. Both F/A-18Cs commenced evasive maneuvers heading for the deck. As he did, the SAM arched down towards him, detonating above and behind. Shredded by the fragments from the warhead, his Hornet began to break up, and he activated his ejection seat. Seeing his flight leader shot down roused the other young Malaysian pilot to fury, and he continued down to just above the wave tops. Heading along the last bearing to the enemy task force, he flew until one of the big amphibious ships suddenly loomed right in front of him. Arming his Gatling gun, he lined up on the ship and set up a shallow dive for a strafing run....
Aboard the USS Germantown (LSD-42), 1513 Hours, September 10th, 2008
When the F/A-18s had continued on a course that looked like a classic attack profile, the ARG commander had given orders that enabled the fire-control computers to engage as soon as hostile aircraft came within weapons range. But no one could have predicted that one F/A-18 pilot was crazy enough to close to strafing range at wave-top level, and no one could have predicted how badly a long burst of 20mm shells could shred the bridge of an amphibious transport. It did the young Hornet pilot little good in any case. One of the Germantown's 20mm Mk 16 Phalanx CIWS mounts shattered the F/A-18, sending it careening into the sea, killing the pilot.
Pentagon Press Room, 0800 Hours, September 10th, 2008
"At approximately 2:00 AM Eastern Time this morning, eight Malaysian aircraft were detected approaching a U.S. Navy task force in international waters, transiting the South China Sea. After ignoring repeated requests on recognized international frequencies to maintain a safe distance, these aircraft were engaged by defensive systems. We believe that seven were shot down and one turned back. One aircraft closed on USS Germantown and opened fire with its cannon before being shot down. Twenty-six sailors and Marines on board Germantown were killed, and eighteen were seriously injured.
"Air-sea rescue helicopters from the task force are still searching for survivors from the Malaysian aircraft. The Secretary has asked me to emphasize that the United States does not regard this incident as an act of war. Let me repeat, we are not at war with Malaysia. We are attempting to defuse a volatile situation in a troubled part of the world. At an appropriate time we will see
k, through diplomatic means, a formal apology for the loss of American lives and compensation from Malaysia for the damage to our ship. Meanwhile, the United States intends to closely watch the situation in occupied Brunei and will continue to uphold the principle of freedom of navigation in international waters, as we have done for over two hundred years."
A map of the South China Sea theater during the opening moves of the invasion of Brunei.
JACK RYAN ENTERPRISES, LTD., BY LAURA ALPHER
When the Department of Defense press officer sat down, the State Department press officer took the microphone, cleared her throat, and read the paper that had been handed to her a few minutes earlier.
"Until the situation is clarified, the State Department has advised Americans in Malaysia or occupied Brunei to leave the country by the first available means. Also, American passports will not be valid for travel to Malaysia or occupied Brunei. The President has issued an Executive Order freezing all assets of Malaysia and Brunei in American financial institutions. Our Ambassador to the United Nations has asked for an emergency meeting of the Security Council tomorrow morning. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. No questions, please."
United Nations, New York City, September 11th, 2008
RESOLUTION 1446
The Security Council,
Grieved by the death of His Royal Highness the Sultan of Brunei, under unexplained circumstances,
Deeply concerned that the annexation of Brunei by the Federation of Malaysia is being implemented without regard to the freely expressed desires of the Bruneian people,
Alarmed by recent naval incidents in the South China Sea involving armed clashes between forces of the Federation of Malaysia and the United States of America,
Acting under Articles 39 and 40 of the Charter of the United Nations,
Demands the immediate and unconditional withdrawal of Malaysian military forces from the territory of Brunei,
Calls upon the Federation of Malaysia, the United States of America, the Sultanate of Brunei, member States of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, and all other concerned States to begin intensive negotiations for the peaceful resolution of their differences,
Decides to meet again as necessary to consider further steps to ensure compliance with this resolution.
The resolution carried, with fourteen for, one against (Indonesia), and two abstentions (China, Japan). If China had vetoed the resolution, Malaysia's annexation of Brunei would have been a done deal, and the fragile "New World Order" could like it or lump it. Diplomatic pressure cut no mustard with the Chinese Communists. But in the days before the vote, chief executives of the major Western and Japanese banks and oil companies had called their Chinese contacts with a simple, back-channel message. If the takeover of Brunei went unchallenged, there would be no credits for any offshore oil development in the South China Sea, regardless of territorial claims by any power in the region. The Communist Chinese may have been true believers in Marxism-Leninism, but they weren't stupid.
Aboard USS Bon Homme Richard (LHD-6), PHIBRON 11, September 12th, 2008
Channel 6 of the Fleet Broadcast Satellite Net was carrying CNN, and the staff of the ARG had gathered in the wardroom at this absurd hour to watch the live feed from UN Headquarters halfway around the globe. The betting was about even. Half the officers figured Malaysia would back down, given the lesson that had been taught to Iraq some fifteen years earlier. Half expected immediate orders from CINCPAC to begin planning for the liberation of Brunei.
Colleen Taskins had not made Colonel in the Marine Corps by hoping for the best. She was the first female MEU (SOC) commander in the history of the Corps. She fully expected the worst, and she was about to get it on her first command cruise. The 31st MEU (SOC) and PHIBRON 11 had no orders yet to retake Brunei, but good commanders anticipate events, and she was trying to do that now. She gathered her staff for a late-night planning session. When the orders came down the chop chain from CINCPAC, her Marines and sailors would be ready.
American Embassy, Manila, the Philippines, September 14th, 2008
Crown Prince Omar Bolkiah and the colonel of the 7th Gurkhas were seated in the embassy conference room, being briefed on the plan for the liberation of Brunei from Malaysia. The young man thought it odd that others would talk so clinically in front of him about fighting for his country and his people. But Colonel Rai had counseled the young Prince that this was the way of soldiers. Although the Americans were talking about his country as if it were a chessboard, they had every intention of giving it back. This, the colonel said, was exactly what they had done back in 1991 for the A1 Sabah family in Kuwait, and they would do it now for him.
On the large-screen projector appeared a series of viewgraphs, with smaller insert screens in the corners for each of the major participants in the briefing. One of them was dedicated to the impassive face of the Crown Prince, while the others showed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the CinC Pacific Forces, and the commander of the 31st MEU (SOC), Colonel Taskins. The Prince wondered about entrusting his country to this pixie-faced woman, but she seemed to know her business, and the others on the screen were showing her respect.
The Americans called the forthcoming operation Tropic Fury. He wondered how this one would be remembered-as a triumphant liberation, like Desert Storm, or an abysmal failure like Eagle Claw, the raid to rescue American hostages in Iran. But Tropic Fury looked like it had a chance. Colonel Rai called it a "rock soup" approach, which meant that they would start with very little and try to feed more into the effort if the initial assault worked. He was amazed that the Americans seemed to have thought about this kind of problem so thoroughly, and then remembered how they had been humiliated in the 1970s. The Americans' ability to enforce their will was based upon long experience in such affairs, and he promised himself that he would learn more than a new tennis swing from his time here in Manila.
White House Briefing Room, Washington, D.C., September 15th, 2008
"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States!"
The press room was jammed to capacity for a major policy announcement on what was becoming known as the South China Sea Crisis. Along with the usual Presidential media personnel were the Secretaries of State and Defense with an easel full of briefing charts. The TV lights were running hot when the President arrived, and he moved quickly into his presentation. After a short introduction reviewing events of the last few days, he got to the point.
"...therefore, the United States, in conjunction with the United Nations, is declaring a complete military and economic embargo of Malaysia. The Government of Malaysia has until midnight tonight, Eastern Daylight Time, to clear all air and maritime traffic to and from Brunei, or the U.S. will use force to enforce the embargo. In addition, Malaysia has just five days to withdrawal from the territory of Brunei and allow the return of the Sultan, or measures will be taken to evict them. This is the only warning that will be given, and there will be no negotiations. We have not created this situation. Malaysia has. Now let them solve it, or we will do it for them. That completes my statement. The Secretaries of State and Defense will now field any questions you might have. Good day, ladies and gentlemen."
He turned and headed offstage to cries of, "Mr. President???" from a hundred reporters.
USS Bon Homme Richard (LHD-6), Somewhere in the South China Sea, 1100 hours, September 16th, 2008
"Jeez, it's like a whole city of oil tanks. How are we supposed to fight in that?" the Lieutenant said. From the piers of Kuala Belait to the wellheads and pumping stations of Seria, 20 mi/32 km east, the coastal strip was a continuous landscape of immensely valuable and extremely flammable petroleum facilities, punctuated by the flames of a few flare stacks, in fields where it was too much trouble to collect the natural gas for liquefaction.
"With these, Lieutenant," Major Bill Hansen said, tossing a small but surprisingly heavy, round flat bag on the table.
"Excuse me, sir. My Marines are going into combat against gu
ys who have live ammo, and we're supposed to shoot back with beanbags?"
"Non-lethal projectiles, Lieutenant. They're called Flexible Batons, and don't underestimate these things--they'll knock down a horse at twenty paces. And we're going to use these in the shotguns and grenade launchers until we're at least five hundred yards inland from the oil facilities."
The kid was too young to remember the fires of Kuwait. The Major had been there, and he never wanted to see anything like that hellish landscape of smoke and flame again. He patiently explained the rules of engagement for fighting in an oil field. The lieutenant would lead his company through the basics of combat-shotgun refresher training in the morning.
"Anyhow, we don't think you'll be going up against real soldiers in your LZ," the major said. "The oil company security guards are basically rent-a-cops, and we're trying to convince Shell to pull them out in any case."