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years ago,” the admiral said, “the American navy brought all five of their Atlantic Fleet carriers into their biggest East Coast base, Norfolk, Virginia, at one time. One, Enterprise, was there to be decommissioned, and one was there to began its refueling cycle.” Everyone at the table knew these ships were nuclear powered. “The other three were ordered into port by the administration, which was in a budget squabble with Congress.”
    The admiral paused. “Someday the Americans might do it again, and if they do, it will give us another opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to halve the United States Navy’s striking force, and incidentally, stop construction on future carriers for years to come.”
    He pushed another button, and on the screen appeared a map of the Norfolk, Virginia, naval base. The carriers were nestled against the piers, which stuck out into the wide mouth of the Elizabeth River. They were labeled with names. Farther south, the piers were filled with other ships, ten destroyers, a helicopter assault ship, several supply ships … every pier was filled.
    Wu zoomed into the map to show the ships. The map had been generated by the naval technical staff, with overhead shots grafted onto the map. Wu knew these weren’t the exact ships that had been in Norfolk last December, but he didn’t share that with the other people in the room. Finally, he zoomed out so the audience could see the naval base against the peninsula, the navy yard to the south, up the Elizabeth River, and the Oceana naval air station twenty or so miles away, quite prominent with its crossed runways. The civilian Norfolk airport was there, too, equally prominent, only ten miles or so from the carrier piers.
    The admiral pointed out the amphibious base at Little Creek, and the minesweepers and other small combatants based along the northern shore of the peninsula. Then he moved the center of the map north, across Hampton Roads, and stopped it on the dry docks and shipyard of the Newport News Shipbuilding Company. Carefully labeled in Chinese characters were the hulls of three aircraft carriers under construction there, in various stages of completion.
    Smoking today and recalling that event, Admiral Wu remembered the expressions on the faces of his audience as they looked at the naval power on display in the graphic.
    Then he said, “Comrades, they are indeed going to do it again. In late December of this year the five current American aircraft carriers assigned to the Atlantic Fleet will once again all be in port, along with most of their escorts. Five carrier battle groups. The opportunity will be historic, and it may never come again.”
    The Paramount Leader lit a cigarette. He puffed it a couple of times, then said, “Comrades, I think I speak for everyone.” He placed the cigarette in the ashtray in front of him and forgot about it. “We do not want war with the United States. Such a war would be fought here, not there, and could only end badly. Such a war would be unthinkable. Trade would be disrupted, the economy pitched into depression, and even if we avoided military defeat, revolution would follow.” Here it was again, the Communist bugaboo. If they lost control of the people, the party and everyone in it were doomed.
    Indeed, in this era of intertwined national economies, a complete breach in national relationships seemed impossible. Strategic thinkers had pondered these matters at great length. The world was a far different place than it was in 1941.
    Admiral Wu had his arguments ready. The real problem, he thought, was the worldview of the Chinese leadership. Beijing was the center of their universe; the world outside of China was primordial ooze, populated by savage barbarians. Yet he wasn’t going to say that. What he said was, “The Americans do not want war either. They are soft, decadent, fat and fond of worldly goods, many of which are made in China. And they have problems around the world. The Middle