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Chapter One
David Freeman's eyes steadily scanned the radar screens in front of him . The multiple monitors surrounding him kept watch against any surprise attack that might be launched upon the West Coast of the United States. He picked up his lukewarm coffee to take another sip, then blinked. An alarming blip appeared on the middle screen right in front of him. It looked to be about 1,200 miles from Los Angeles. Was it a malfunction? He quickly checked all critical controls. It wasn't. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He didn't have much time! Whatever was producing the alarming signal was closing fast. In fact, its very speed indicated that it was an inbound missile. Without a second to spare, David lunged for the large red button that would signal imminent attack to all defense facilities throughout the United States and around the world.
Almost immediately, defensive missiles shot from their secret silos along the coastal line. With only ten minutes remaining until the incoming weapon released its payload on the United States, the U.S. Defense Forces had only one shot at intercepting the intruding missile. David watched his radar screen with bated breath as the newly deployed Arrow Missiles sped toward the invader. If the incoming missile carried a nuclear payload, David knew what it meant: World War III!
The next two minutes were critical. Perspiration dripped from David's face and soaked his shirt to the skin, even though the control center temperature was at its usual 72 degrees. Watching the path of the invader and the course of the defense missiles as they converged, he realized that he was holding his breath. "Relax, stay calm, breathe," he ordered himself. David knew that if he ever implemented the years of special training on how to function under the heat of intense pressure, he needed to do it now!
His eyes tracked every blip on the radar. The defense missiles seemed to have a chance! David prayed for the first time in a long time. "Please, God. If You're up there at all, do something right now."
At the moment the path of the defending missiles converged with the incoming route of the attacker, a confusing array of signals appeared on the radar screen. Then, out of the confusion, the blip moving toward Los Angeles emerged. It kept coming, growing stronger and stronger with every pulse on the screen. "God help us!" David cried.
Even though the control center was built to withstand a direct nuclear hit, David still felt the shudder and heard the deep beastly rumble as the nuclear explosion unleashed all of its fury on the heart of downtown L.A. An urgent message went out to all U.S. defense facilities around the world: "The United States has sustained a full nuclear attack on its western coast. Millions are undoubtedly dead in the Los Angeles area. Most likely origin of the attack--China."
Over the next 20 minutes, beneath the pandemonium above, radar records of all areas of the Pacific were reviewed carefully. It was concluded that the attack must have originated from a Chinese submarine reported to have been in the area earlier that day.
U.S. President Benton picked up the red hotline phone connecting him directly to China's president. On the other end he heard, "Hello."
"Mr. President, what is going on?" President Benton almost shouted.
"President Benton, we told you that if you interfered with our rightful claims to the Island of Taiwan, there would be a terrible price to pay. Apparently you didn't believe us. You will suffer no more attacks if you withdraw your troops from the Straits of Taiwan. And stay out of Chinese business." Click.
When members of the Chinese foreign ministry had delivered threats to the U.S. State Department of just this kind of action in 1996, Bill Clinton, who was President at the time, had thought surely that they were bluffing. Obviously, they weren't.
Momentarily stunned, President Benton knew there was no time to waste. Contingency plans had been created for just this scenario. It was obvious to all in the State Department that a conventional war with 1.3 billion Chinese was out of the question. If Chinese aggression was not stopped here and now, they would soon rule the entire globe.
The President, with set jaw, looked over at the ever-present military officer with the black box. With every eye in the underground room watching, he ordered, "Open it--quick!" The officer's hands shook with the understanding of the import of his actions. But he never hesitated. Within ten minutes of the devastation of L.A., a full nuclear attack was unleashed upon the People's Republic of China. As ghastly as this course of action was, the President knew it was his only recourse. Within 30 minutes, Red China, for all practical purposes, would cease to exist.
The powers in China had known there might be retaliation, but they had not anticipated what they saw moving at mach-17 speed toward their beloved mainland. The radar screens that kept watch over China's skies were absolutely filled with the incoming retaliatory missiles of the United States. And there was nothing they could do to stop them!
Chinese President Zhiang stared at Premier Cho. "You said America would back down!" he screamed accusingly. "Look at what you've done!"
Cho shot back, "Our sources have never misled us before. Something has gone terribly wrong! Mr. President, make those U.S. devils pay! You must immediately order a counterstrike. We owe it to the memory of the Chinese people!"
Zhiang picked up the military command phone. The ranking military officer answered immediately. "Yes, Mr. President."
"Do we have time to launch every nuclear missile that we have before America's weapons reach the motherland?" Zhiang asked. China had redirected every nuclear weapon in her arsenal toward America when tensions over Taiwan had begun to heat up.
The officer hesitated. "Mr. President, I'm not sure. It will be very close."
"Then do it now!" Zhiang shouted. He heard the phone slam onto the receiver as the military officer ran to execute his leader's command.
President Zhiang approached the array of screens monitoring the global theater of war. "Will our missiles be launched in time?" he asked.
The communications officer's eyes scanned the dials monitoring the operation of every missile. "We don't know yet, sir. It's too close to call."
Excerpted from The China War and the Third Temple by IRVIN BAXTER. Copyright © 2001 by Irvin Baxter. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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