Fatal Terrain Read online

  NATIONAL ASSEMBLY HALL, GOVERNMENT HOUSE,

  TAIPEI, REPUBLIC OF CHINA

  SUNDAY, 15 MAY 1997, 1900 HOURS LOCAL

  (17 MAY, 0700 HOURS ET)

  The fistfight broke out as suddenly as a thunderclap. Several

  men and women leaped over seats to clutch at those who dared

  disagree with them or support another side over theirs. Railings

  and seats were used as ladders to try to get at one another,

  and the entire crowd seemed to surge forward like a pack of

  wolves on the attack.

  The scene resembled an unruly crowd at a World Cup soc-

  cer match, or a riot in South Central-but this was a special

  session of the National Assembly of the government of the

  Republic of China on Taiwan.

  The president pro tem of the National Assembly hammered

  his gavel, trying to restore order. He glanced over at the na-

  tional guard troops peeking through the window in the back

  of the chamber, ready to burst in if necessary. He heard break-

  ing glass and almost hit the panic button, but stayed calm and

  watched nervously as the noisy politicians surged forward. It

  took nearly thirty minutes to restore some level of calm, and

  another ten minutes for the legislators to clear the aisles

  enough so the National Police could escort the president of the

  Republic of China, Lee Teng-hui, to the podium.

  My fellow citizens, your attention, please. I am pleased to

  announce the results of the ratification vote of t -he Legislative

  Branch, which was taken just a few hours ago," President Lee

  began. "By a vote of two hundred seventy-one for, thirty

  against, three abstaining, Mr. Huang Chou-ming is hereby ap-

  proved by the people of the Republic of Taiwan to serve as

  vice president and premier. Mr. Huang, step forward, please."

  Amid renewed cheering and yelling, mostly from the left

  side of the hall, the new premier of the Republic of China

  stepped up to the dais and accepted the green-and-gold sash

  of office. Huang was a major figure in the Democratic Pro-

  gressive Party (DPP), and his election to the number-two po-

  sition in the Taiwanese government was significant-it was

  the first major advance of a non-Kuornintang (KMT) Party

  member in the country's short history. Although the Kuom-

  intang still held a solid majority in all branches of the Tai-

  wanese government, the advancement of the DPP was a major

  shift from nearly fifty years of KMT philosophy and control.

  The shouting, cheering, celebrations, and accusations sud-

  denly and violently turned into another brawl on the floor of

  the National Assembly. While bodyguards surrounded the

  president and vice president, members of Taiwan's National

  Assembly ran up and down the aisles, stood on desks, and

  screamed at each other; several members were up on the dais

  near the president, fighting with one another to decide who

  would speak with the president first. Members of the National

  Police Administration, charged with the protection of govern-

  ment buildings and property and who acted as security guards in the National Assembly chamber, had moved into the cham-

  ber itself and stood stock-still along the outer aisles of the

  Assembly chamber, long cane batons nearly invisible at their

  sides and tear-gas canisters safely tucked away inside their

  tunics. They did nothing but watch with stone-expressionless

  faces while the fights and bedlam raged all around them.

  "My fellow citizens," President Lee tried. His voice, even

  amplified, was barely heard. He waited patiently for any sign

  that the near-riot was subsiding. He heard clothing rip just a

  few paces away from him-the fight had somehow moved up

  to the dais, where police were trying to keep Assembly mem-

  bers from reaching the president and new premier-and de-

  cided that he needed to wait a few moments longer. He had a

  pistol tucked away in a holster inside his pants at the small of

  his back, and Lee considered firing a shot in the air to get

  everyone's attention, but quickly decided that a gunshot might

  just make this place explode.

  The Taiwanese National Assembly was composed of mem-

  bers elected for life. Since most of the membership had been

  elected to their post in 1948, prior to the Communist overthrow

  of the Nationalist Party on the mainland, there were some very

  old gentlemen here in the Assembly Hall. But the old goats,

  Lee noticed, were arguing and fighting just as hard as the more

  newly elected members-they just had less endurance. The

  hall was splitting into two distinct sections, a normal and corn-

  mon occurrence here in the National Assembly. The largest

  group was the Kuomintang, along with their nominal allies the

  New Party, the Young China Party, and the Chinese Demo-

  cratic Socialist Party. On the other side were the members of

  the Democratic Progressive Party, a more liberal and modern-

  thinking political party filled with young, energetic, rather ide-

  alistic members. Although the right side of the hall, filled with

  KMT members and supporters, was much larger, both sides

  were equally boisterous.

  "My fellow citizens, please," Lee tried again. When he

  realized there was no response to his pleas, Lee finally ordered

  the police to step in. Order was quickly restored. "Thank you.

  We will now proceed with the main piece of business on to-

  night's agenda." Huang respectfully stepped behind and to

  Lee's right; this simple action got the Assembly's attention

  right away, and the chamber quieted. Lee quickly continued:

  "This election also signals a unity of purpose and policy

  within our government, my friends, a union between rival pa-

  triotic groups that has been much too long in the making. Our

  newfound coalition between the KMT and DPP forms the basis

  of our pride in our accomplishments and our standing in the

  world community. It is time for our unity, our pride, to be

  brought forth upon the world for all to see."

  President Lee let the loud applause continue for a few long

  moments; then: "With humble pride and great joy, Premier

  Huang and I hereby bring to the floor of the National Assem-

  bly a bill, drafted by the Central Standing Committee of the

  Kuomintang, amended by the Legislative Yuan Major Consti-

  tutional Committee, and passed this date unanimously by the

  Legislative Branch, to amend the constitution of the Republic

  of China. It is now up to us to ratify this constitutional amend-

  ment.

  "The bill amends the constitution by proclaiming that the

  Republic of China, including the island archipelagoes of For-

  mosa, Quemoy, Matsu, Makung, Taiping, and Tiaoyutai, is

  now and forever shall be a separate, sovereign, and indepen-

  dent nation, subordinate or component to none. The people of

  the Republic of China hereby r
enounce all allegiance and ties

  to land, title, property, legal claims, and jurisdiction to the

  mainland. Our prayers will always be that we are someday

  reunited with our motherland, but until that day comes, we

  hereby proclaim that the Republic of China is a separate na-

  tion, with all the rights and responsibilities of free and sov-

  ereign nations anywhere in the world. The bill is hereby

  submitted for a vote. May I please have a second?"

  "I proudly second the motion," the new premier, Huang

  Chou-ming, shouted, which lifted the applause to a new, out-

  rageous level. Huang and the DPP had been fighting for such

  a declaration of independence for many years, and their victory

  in getting this legislation passed and onto the Assembly floor

  was the most significant event in the history of the Nationalist

  Chinese.

  The introduction of this bill meant that the Kuomintang I s

  basic philosophy of one China, introduced by Dr. Sun Yat-sen

  as he and Nationalist General Chiang Kai-shek fought to lib-

  erate China from the grasp of the Japanese empire after World

  Wars I and H, and proclaimed ever since the Nationalists were

  pushed off the mainland to the island of Taiwan by the Corn-

  munists in 1949, was effectively dead. There had always been a hope that the Nationalists could somehow liberate the main-

  land from the dark clutches of communism, now the govern-

  ment and the people were saying that hope was moot.

  Mainland China could someday join in the prosperity and

  power of the Republic of China-but until then, Taiwan was

  in control of its own destiny.

  The cheering in the Assembly hall was deafening; the ap-

  plause and demonstrations in the aisles lasted for nearly ten

  minutes. There was still a small group of KMT members op-

  posed to the amendment, and they tried to start another fight

  on the Assembly floor, but their anger and outrage could not

  undo years of Lee's gentle persuasiveness and coalition-

  building efforts.

  But it was more than releasing an improbable dream. It was

  an assertion, a declaration to the world, and especially to the

  gargantuan presence known as the People's Republic of China,

  that the Republic of China on Taiwan was taking its rightful

  place on the world stage. Taiwan was no longer a breakaway

  republic of China; the ROC was no longer a rebel government.

  It had the strongest economy in Asia, the ninth-largest econ-

  omy on the planet, and the largest deposits of foreign curren-

  cies in the world. Now it was a sovereign nation. No one was

  going to take any of that away from them.

  It took an entire hour for the votes to be cast, but the results

  were finally tallied and the announcement was made, soon for

  all the world to hear: independence.

  SOUTHBEACH, OREGON

  SATURDAY, 17 MAY 1997, 0415 HOURS PT

  (0715 HOURS ET)

  As he had done - for the past thirty-two years of his life, the

  retired U. Air Force general was up at four A., Without the

  assistance of an aide, an operator, or even an alarm clock. He

  was a man who had always set the agenda, not followed those

  of others. He was accustomed to having everyone else get moving on his timetable.

  But now no one in a base command center was waiting for

  him, there were no@ "dawn patrol" missions to fly, no world

  crisis that had to be analyzed so a response could be planned.

  His uniform now was not a green Nomex flight suit or freshly

  pressed blue wool class A's, but a flannel shirt, thermal un-

  derwear-one of innumerable pairs he had used in his flying

  days, in aircraft where keeping the electronics warm was more

  important than keeping the humans warm-hunting socks, hip

  waders, an old olive-drab nylon flying jacket, and an old Viet-

  narn-era camouflage floppy "boonie hat" with spinners and

  lures stuck in it. He didn't know that all those things in his

  hat had nothing to do with open-sea fishing, but it didn't mat-

  ter-it was part of the "uniform."

  By force of habit, he put the hardened polycarbonate Timex.

  aviator's watch on his left wrist, although his own internal

  body clock was all he needed now; and he plucked the cellular

  phone from its recharging cradle, turned it on, and stuck it in

  his fanny pack, although no one ever called him and he had

  no one to call. For a long, long time, since assuming his first

  command more than twenty years before, leaving his quarters

  without a portable radio or a cell phone and pager had been

  unthinkable, and such habits die hard. The cell phone was

  something of a link to his old life, his old base of power. The

  old life had been stripped away from him, but he would not

  let it go completely.

  The weather in Oregon's central coast matched the man's

  mood-gray, cloudy, and a little depressing. The man had

  spent many years in the Southwest, especially southern Ne-

  vada, where they had more than three hundred clear, sunny

  days a year. Many times he cursed the sun and the oppressive

  heat it brought-one-hundred-degree days in April, lots of

  ninety-degree midnights, terrible jet performance especially in

  the high deserts-but right now a little sun and warmth would

  be very welcome. It was not looking good-typical low over-

  cast, drizzle with occasional light rain, winds out of the south-

  west fairly light at ten knots but threatening to increase, as

  they usually did, to thirty to forty knots by afternoon.

  Not ideal fishing weather, but what the hell-nothing else

  to do except sit around and look at the mountain of unpacked

  boxes still cluttering his little mobile home in Southbeach, an

  isolated vacation and retirement village on Oregon's central

  coast, about eighty miles southwest of Portland. The Air

  Force-contracted movers had delivered his household goods

  seven months before, but there they sat, virtually untouched.

  He saw a small hole the size of a pencil in the comer of one

  box marked "Memorabilia" and wondered if the mice were

  enjoying nibbling on the plaques, awards, photos, and me-

  mentos he had stuffed in there. At least someone was enjoying

  them.

  The man decided just to get the hell out and do what he

  had planned to do, and to hell with the bad memories and

  bitterness. Concentrating on his boat, the sea, and staying alive

  on the cold waters of coastal Oregon in freshening breezes

  would take his mind off the neglected remnants of the life that

  had been taken away from him. 'Me prospect of catching a

  glimpse of a migrating pod of whales filled him with a sense

  of excitement, and soon he was speeding down the long gravel

  driveway, eagerly looking forward to getting on the water.

  It was a short drive north on Highway 101 to the marina,

  just south of the Yaquina Bay bridge. The marina's general

  store had just opened, so he had his thermos filled with coffee,

  his cooler packed full of orange juice, fresh and dried fruit,

  and some live sardines for bait--he didn't have the money
to

  buy live mackerel or squid, which would really improve his

  chances. What he knew about fishing would embarrass himself

  if he tried to talk about it, but it didn't matter-if he caught

  anything, which was unlikely these days in the fished-out wa-

  ters of central Oregon, he would probably let it go. He filled

  out a slip of paper that explained where he was headed and

  how long he was going to be out-somewhat akin to filing a

  flight plan before a sortie-stuck the paper in the "Gone

  Fishin' " box near the door on his way out, and headed for

  the piers.

  His boat was a thirty-year-old thirty-two-foot Grand Banks

  Sedan, bought with most of his savings and the sixty days'

  worth of unused accumulated leave time he had sold back to

  the United States Air Force. Made of Philippine mahogany

  instead of fiberglass, the heavy little trawler was easy enough

  to handle solo, and stable in seas up to about five feet. It had

  a single Lehman diesel engine, covered flybridge, a good-size

  fishing cockpit aft, a large salon with lower helm station, set-

  tee, and galley, and a forward cabin with a head/shower and

  a V-berth with decent but fish-smelling foam cushions. He

  turned on the marine band radio and got the weather and sea

  states from WXI, the Newport Coast Guard weather band,

  while he pulled off the canvas covers, checked his equipment

  and made ready to get under way-he still called it "preflight-

  ing" his ship, although the fastest he'd fly would be ten

  knots-then motored over to the pumps, filled the fuel and

  water tanks, and headed out of the marina into Yaquina Bay

  and then to the open ocean.

  There was a very light drizzle and a fresh breeze blowing,

  but the man did make his way up to the flybridge to get a

  better feel for the sea. Visibility was about three to five miles

  DALE BROWN

  offshore, but the Otter Rock light was visible nine miles north.

  The waves were maybe a foot, short and choppy, with the first

  hint of whitecaps, and it was cool and damp-again, typical

  weather in Oregon for early summer. He headed northwest,

  using an eyeball. bearing off the lighthouse to sail into the

  fishing area. When he'd first started sailing, he'd brought an

  entire bag full of electronic satellite navigation gear, backup