“Very well,” Yin said smugly. “Begin our attack. Launch two Fei Lung missiles from long range, get a strike report from the plane, and re-attack with two more. I want this battle concluded as quickly as possible, Lubu.”
The naked young girl lying on Colonel Renaldo Tamalko’s chest was so thin and lithe that he inadvertently tossed her onto the floor as he reached for the incessantly ringing phone. He grunted an apology to the girl as he picked up the receiver. “What?”
“Command Post, Sergeant Komos, sir,” the voice of the NCO in charge of the tiny Philippine Air Force base at Puerto Princesa, Palawan, replied. “We’ve received an urgent message from a naval task force group west of Palawan, requesting immediate assistance.”
“Wait a second.” Tamalko flicked on the light and rubbed his eyes sleepily. All that registered to the Philippine Air Force squadron commander was that his command post senior controller was excited, and that usually meant bad news.
The old window-mounted air conditioner was on full force, but the room was still hot and steamy. He motioned toward a glass of clear liquid on the table in the center of the room, silently ordering the girl to bring it to him and hoping that it wasn’t more booze. He watched the young maid’s gentle curves and tight butt as she brought the glass over to him — she didn’t look any older than fourteen or fifteen, but her sexual skills were certainly well developed, he thought. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her back over to him, and guided her hand back to his crotch. The glass had a bit of whiskey mixed with several melted ice cubes, so he contented himself with pouring the liquid over his face to help wake himself up. “Say again, Sergeant?”
“A Navy captain Banio of the Thirty-first Patrol Group from Zamboanga has issued a tactical emergency warning message to all military units,” the NCO said. “He states that a Chinese naval force is in pursuit and is approaching Palawan, about forty miles west of Ulugan Bay. He requests immediate air support.”
“A Chinese naval force? In pursuit? Of who? Pursuing
“We’re trying to raise him again, sir,” Komos said. “There was a brief radio message about an attack in progress, but no more details are available.”
“Shit,” Tamalko swore. Fucking Chinese. To Komos he said, “This had better not be some kind of joke, Sergeant. Did you receive any kind of verification? Was the message authenticated?”
“No, sir,” the controller replied. ‘‘.Contact has not been reestablished.”
Tamalko swore to himself. This could be some kind of drill or exercise — it was similar to the kind of stuff the Americans liked to pull, when the Americans used to be here. But since the Americans had been kicked out of the Phihppines, things had been very, very quiet…
Too quiet, as matter of fact.
The Communist guerrillas, who were numerous and strong on Palawan and the other outlying provinces, had stepped up their recruitment drives and had certainly become much more active, but incidents of violence were not as common — he hadn’t had one of his officers shot or beaten up downtown in weeks. Before the Americans departed, it seemed to happen every weekend. As much as almost everyone in the military hated having a Communist like Daniel Teguina as First Vice President, it was obvious that his election had a stabilizing effect. Tamalko would probably have shot the bastard if he met up with him in a dark alley, but if, because Teguina was in office, the peasants liked him and quit shooting up the villages, so much the better.
So what was this shit with a Chinese invasion? It had to be bogus, an exercise cooked up by some know-nothing staffer in Manila. He had been involved with many such scenarios with the American Navy and with other military units in ASEAN, the Association of South East Asian Nations, whose member nations frequently ran joint exercises with the newly independent Philippine military. But bogus or not, Tamalko knew he had to act decisively. He had to do everything he could to make sure that his cushy job here at Puerto Princesa, one of the most beautiful seacoast towns in all the world, was protected. Puerto Princesa was a diamond surrounded by jungle and mountains, far enough from Manila to retain a very relaxed atmosphere. He was in charge of a small squadron of F-4E fighter-bombers and F-5R day fighters purchased from the United States, and he also maintained the base for other miscellaneous military and civilian air operations. There was no job on Earth better than his, and he guarded it jealously.
