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Authors: Michael Conley

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“Mr. Vice President,” asked a rejuvenated Wellington Crane, reeking of bourbon, “I must confess I don’t buy into your observations on energy. They just don’t square with the reality I know. That said, I’d like to switch gears a little and ask you why your administration has put the brakes on economic recovery because of nebulous claims about climate-change.”

“Is that a question or a statement, Wellington?”

“I think it’s both, Mr. Vice President. Care to answer?”

“I’ll try,” said McCarty with a condescending smile that seemed to infuriate Crane. “At this point, I doubt there are many who do not believe climate-change is happening. The debate today is more about the causative factors and not the event itself. Would you not agree, Wellington?” Crane shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“It’s hard to look at greenhouse gas levels north of four hundred parts per million and not think something is happening. It’s hard to look at the polar ice melts and mounting tensions over who owns the mineral rights under them and not believe there’s a problem. The geopolitical conflict over freshwater rights from melting ice in the Himalayas and elsewhere is of great concern. Water shortages and loss of arable land to desertification are accelerating famines all over the world and displacing hundreds of millions of people. Climate-change impacts are visible everywhere and can’t be ignored, so of course it’s a consideration in any economic policy decision.”

“Perhaps so, Mr. Vice President,” Crane responded, “but is it in the best interests of the American people to let climate issues get in the way of economic progress?”

Boy, you really stepped in it this time,
Clayton mused. “Let me answer your question in two ways, Wellington. First, when you ask if it’s in our best interests to factor in climate-change, I’d have to say it all depends on whose best interests you’re referencing. If it’s Wall Street looking at quarterly earnings, there’s no question there’s a short-term cost impact for adopting cleaner energy practices. If it’s your children or grandchildren, there’s no question it’s in their best interests. We have an intergenerational responsibility here we can’t ignore.”

Again, the camera panned in on a scowling Wellington Crane. He could hide his body language on the radio, but the camera was definitely not his ally today.

“Second, the development of renewable energy systems is far more than just a nice thing to do for the environment. It’s imperative for at least two reasons: first, we need to develop everything we can to replace a depleted stock of global oil or risk returning to the Stone Age, and second, this could easily be America’s greatest economic engine for new growth. We need to move ahead with an effort equivalent to our transition from a peacetime to wartime economy in World War II.”

“Our time is almost up, Mr. Vice President,” said a battered and wary Nelson Fitzwater. “We have fifteen seconds left and will give you the last word.” Again, the camera caught an apoplectic Crane, so used to having the last word on any show.

“Thank you for having me on your show, Nelson. I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ve talked a lot today about oil, energy, the economy, and the environment because they are all so entwined and interrelated. We believe the new Department of Energy, Transportation, and Climate-change will get at many of these challenges in a comprehensive manner, but it will take time. In candor, does anyone really think the sands in the Middle East or the ocean waters in the East China Sea are what young men and women all over the world are fighting and dying over? Of course not, it’s the oil that’s underneath. The quicker we realize this, and the sooner we develop environmentally friendly fuel alternatives to replace oil, the better off we’ll all be.”

With that, the background music played and the camera panned the panel before the fade-out.

As Clayton exchanged pleasantries with the other panelists, Wellington Crane left in a huff without a word to anyone. It had been one of the most humiliating experiences in his career, and he vowed right then and there that Clayton McCarty would pay dearly for his disrespect.

11
Beijing, China
18 September 2017

W
ang Peng checked his watch as he hurried over to the chairman’s office following the emergency Politburo Standing Committee meeting. A 10:30 meeting with Lin Cheng did not mean 10:31. He tapped on the chairman’s door with two minutes to spare.

“Good morning, Peng, please come in,” said Lin Cheng. He seemed almost cheerful as he poured the obligatory tea.

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” Wang replied, anxious to rehash the PSC meeting and consider the subsequent actions required.

“What did you think about the meeting today?” Lin asked with the casual tone of an elderly grandfather asking his grandson about his day in school.

“They were far more supportive of you today, Mr. Chairman, than they were following the Chunxiao Incident. They seemed pleased you were able to keep America from openly siding with Japan, and they liked the part about freezing Japan’s assets and expelling their ambassador. They also agreed with your United Nations strategy, and I thought that was significant.”

“It is important,” said Lin with a nod, “but the UN part will take a lot of work if we are to beat Japan to the punch. We’ll need to prepare a resolution for the UN Security Council condemning Japan for its territorial violation and demanding reparations for the loss of the
Dragon II
and lost oil production from the platform.”

“Do you have any thoughts on the reparations we should request?” Wang asked as he pulled up a new document on his laptop.

Thinking for a moment, Lin Cheng replied, “Let’s figure what the
Dragon II
would have produced in the time it will take us to float in another platform. Actually, Peng, I’m not as concerned with reparation amounts as I am in using Chunxiao as a springboard to a more favorable long-term strategic position.”

“You’re referring, of course, to the United Nations Law of the Seas Convention,” Wang replied.

“Yes,” replied Lin. “Until we can codify the 1982 UNCLOS protocols to once and for all establish and legitimize China’s Exclusive Economic Zone claims in the East and South China Sea; we’ll have ongoing conflicts like Chunxiao. This is the prize we most covet, Peng, not reparations.”

“Could you clarify for me, Mr. Chairman, why you have chosen to take our resolution to the UN Security Council rather than the General Assembly as we know Japan will do?” Wang knew the answer, but his boss always found it useful to verbalize his positions.

“That’s a question the Politburo failed to raise, Peng. The answer is that the real power lever in the UN is the Security Council, not the full General Assembly. As a
permanent
member of the Security Council, China can veto resolutions of a substantive nature. Japan is not a member and knows China could tie up their resolution in the Security Council for years with its veto power. They have little choice but to try an end-run in the General Assembly. China, on the other hand, has direct access to the Security Council, and we will exploit this structural advantage.”

Wang nodded in thoughtful admiration as the chairman continued.

“China will take its complaint directly to the UN Security Council, because it is the right place to request a security-based resolution like the one we’ll propose. In all likelihood, one or more of the Western powers will oppose it, but not until we’ve had a chance to air it. By doing so, China will be the first to stake out a position that may later be taken to the General Assembly. In this manner, we’ll outflank Japan up front, where it counts most. I’m reminded of that American golf slogan you once told me, ‘drive for show but putt for dough.’ In this case we’ll be doing our putting at the Security Council and driving at the General Assembly.

“Now, a question for you, Wang: how would you suggest we approach the Americans with our request for UN clarity on UNCLOS and the EEZ definitions we are seeking?”

Wang, taken aback by the question, raised his eyes to the ceiling as though searching for an answer before responding. “First of all, we’re not likely to get American support for our entire resolution, but we can certainly frame the EEZ part in a context they will understand and, perhaps, support.”

“Yes, yes, go on, please explain,” Lin Cheng commanded, excitement in his voice.

“Like us, the United States also has issues with the UN Law of the Seas Charter and EEZ definitions. As you know, climate-change has caused large Arctic ice melts and reductions in ice that once blocked the Northwest Passage. The whole Arctic region has taken on a new importance as a result. With new open-sea shipping routes and access to mineral rights and oil fields previously covered by ice shelves, the United States, among other nations, is attempting to stake out its EEZ territorial claims in the Arctic. Russia even planted an underwater flag to signify its claim, but no one paid any attention to it.”

Lin Cheng listened intently as Wang pursued his train of thought.

“China’s proposed definition, using the continental shelf and not a country’s coastal area as the starting point for extending the 200-nautical-mile EEZ boundary, would also be in America’s best interests. Using Alaska’s continental shelf and not its coast as a baseline would certainly extend America’s claim in that area, not to mention the huge advantage such a redefinition would provide across the vast coastal waters of the United States. Our proposal could be crafted to maximize this feature and link American interests with ours.”

“That’s brilliant, Wang Peng, and an idea we’ll most definitely pursue. In fact, President Burkmeister has invited me to call him on our hotline with any new updates on the Chunxiao matter, which could provide an opportunity to introduce the idea.” Lin Cheng was warming to the possibilities as he thought it out.

“I like President Burkmeister,” Lin said almost parenthetically. “We’ve had one face-to-face meeting since he took office, and of course our recent phone calls. He seems a pragmatic sort. However, I’ve heard disturbing things about his health, and he’s now in the hospital. This prompts me to ask you about Vice President McCarty—just in case something happens to President Burkmeister. I know you know him from your Stanford days.”

Wang cleared his throat before answering.

“Yes, I’ve had several visits with Clayton McCarty over the years, but I’m actually closer to his brother, Jack McCarty—my roommate at Stanford for many years. It’s difficult to talk about one without talking about the other.”

“That’s fine, Peng, tell me about both of them. I have a feeling they will play a part in our future dealings, and I’d like your assessment of them.”

“Yes, sir, I am happy to do so. I will say up front that I would certainly vouch for the good character of both men.”

Lin Cheng seemed taken aback; Wang Peng was cautious about tendering an opinion on anyone. To say this so quickly about anyone, especially two Americans, was indeed rare.

“I’ve known Jack McCarty the longest, as we were roommates at Stanford for almost my entire time there in the nineties. We remain good friends to this day. We are respectful of each other’s boundaries now, because of our respective proximities to you and the vice president, but we stay in touch via the Internet and whenever our paths cross overseas.”

“When did you last hear from Jack McCarty?”

“A few days ago Jack sent me an e-mail regarding recent climate-change information that worried him. Jack now lives in Washington, DC, and is the CEO of a think tank he founded called the Institute of Energy and Environment—IEE for short. He included attachments containing some of the most critical data.

“What are the climate-change issues that have him so worried?”

“I’d like to prepare a more detailed report for you, Mr. Chairman, as I’m not sure I can do justice to Jack’s concerns right here and now. I can tell you that Jack is a firm believer in climate-change, and recent satellite information has convinced him we may have reached the so-called tipping point that will make climate-change reversals very difficult. His observations, by the way, are shared by our best scientists at the Shanghai Institute.”

Lin nodded, fully aware of the effects climate-change was having on China across many fronts. “Please continue; I share his concerns and will want to discuss this with you soon in great detail.”

“Jack McCarty is a first-rate thinker and does not pull punches when defending his point of view—I can assure you of that from firsthand experience. I have observed these same attributes in his brother, Clayton. We’ve had dozens of lively discussions over the years on anything and everything. Whatever the issue, they both argue their respective positions with precision and force.”

“Are they close as brothers?” Lin Cheng asked.

“Jack and Clayton are very close. They’re the only two living members of the McCarty family. Their parents were killed in a private-plane crash in the early nineties.”

Wang knew he was digressing, but it was important to convey the closeness of the McCarty brothers’ relationship.

“After receiving his PhD at Stanford in the area of energy and environment, Jack went to Palo Alto to work at Clayton’s start-up company, Advanced Energy Systems or AES. They were pioneers in the design and development of advanced smart-grid energy systems and support devices. Jack worked there as a design engineer and partner until 2009, when AES was acquired by Clayburn Electronics for hundreds of millions of dollars. I can’t remember the exact amount, but it made Jack and Clayton multimillionaires overnight. Jack used some of that money to start his IEE think tank. Since then, I’ve had opportunities to visit with Jack at a number of international meetings on energy and climate.”

“Please, tell me more about Clayton McCarty,” Lin asked, eager to understand a man who might someday become his counterpart.

“Clayton McCarty is an interesting man,” Wang replied. “He was also a Stanford grad—class of 1990 or ‘91, I can’t remember … I know, it was 1990, because Clayton joined the Marine Corps after graduation and served as a second lieutenant during the Gulf War in 1991. He left the Marine Corps in the mid-nineties, and was actually stationed on the Stanford campus for some kind of liaison work for the last few months of his hitch. That’s where I first got to know him.”

BOOK: Lethal Trajectories
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