443: Chapter 443 Suppressing Malacca, Erecting a Monument, and Waiting for Signatures

The email was very short, consisting of only four paragraphs. The first paragraph used the word "implore," the second used "immediately," and the third used "urgent." The remaining paragraph listed the losses—forty-seven intercepted ships, with three liquefied natural gas carriers drifting at the anchorage for over twenty-four hours.

"Three days ago, they cast an abstaining vote at the UN Security Council." Zhang Cheng scanned those three words. "They weren't in a hurry back then."

Li Lanzhi scrolled down: "There is a second one. It was sent by the Malaysian Ministry of Transport, and the wording is softer—they say Port Klang only unloaded nine ships yesterday, whereas the normal situation is twenty-three. Penang Port is even worse, with six. The throughput of ports on the western coast of the Strait of Malacca has dropped by sixty-four percent within forty-eight hours."

"It is not because I blocked their ships."

Zhang Cheng stood up and walked to the holographic situation map on the office wall. This map marked every key node of the Strait of Malacca: the northern entrance is the Kra Canal, the eastern entrance is the Longcheng Base, and the narrowest part in the middle is only 1.5 nautical miles wide. The strait is 580 nautical miles long, with over three hundred ships passing through every day, carrying a quarter of the world's trade goods and a third of its crude oil.

"It is because the shipowners dare not pass through anymore."

He tapped the location in the middle of the strait. The label for that location had been enlarged—seven days ago, the "Vega-3" system had implemented full-spectrum navigation suppression there against a US Navy guided-missile destroyer. The ship's captain refused to apply for an electronic transit permit, forcing its way into the eastern entrance of the strait under the pretext of "freedom of navigation." The result was that its GPS coordinates shifted by nearly three kilometers within seventeen seconds; the shipping lane displayed on the Aegis system screen turned into land, and the warship nearly ran aground on the shallows off the coast of Johor. That afternoon, the Pentagon issued that "preventive withdrawal" statement.

From that moment on, not a single US warship has entered the Strait of Malacca again.

"The shipowners saw that the US military ran away." Zhang Cheng's voice was very soft. "They understand what 'security risk' means better than the Pentagon."

Li Lanzhi projected the emergency meeting minutes of the shipowners' association onto the holographic screen: "This afternoon, the Malaysian Shipowners' Association held an emergency meeting. Out of twelve shipping companies, seven have already decided to detour through the Sunda Strait. It will take three more days and burn four hundred thousand US dollars more in fuel. They dare not use our electronic transit permit—using an electronic transit permit is equivalent to acknowledging our jurisdiction over the strait. Putrajaya hasn't signed yet, and the shipowners dare not sign on behalf of the government."

Zhang Cheng turned around and looked at the narrow shipping lane in the middle section of the Strait of Malacca, which was marked in red on the situation map.

That place is called the West Coast Channel. The deepest part of the water is only twenty-three meters, and the channel width is less than five hundred meters. As long as that position can be controlled, the entire strait is like a hose with its throat pinched.

"Arrange for them to go to Longcheng. Tomorrow at three in the afternoon." He walked back to his desk, picked up the encrypted phone, and dialed Wu Zhiming's internal channel.

The phone was answered after one ring.

"Wu Zhiming. Longcheng Base Command Post 03."

"At three o'clock tomorrow afternoon, the Malaysian negotiating delegation will arrive at Longcheng; arrange Conference Room B07. Set up holographic projection equipment in the venue." Zhang Cheng paused. "Two hours before the meeting, erect that stone monument at the entrance of Changi Base. Do not unveil the monument today; wait until the Malaysians have signed, then let them see the words on it."

Wu Zhiming was silent for two seconds. During those two seconds, his breathing came through the encrypted channel, accompanied by the faint roar of carrier-based aircraft engines in the background.

"Understood. Monument erected first, words unveiled later."

Zhang Cheng hung up the phone and took out a paper file from the drawer. This file was not exchanged from the system; he had found it in the underground archives of the White Elephant Trading Company in Thailand during the "Echo Recovery" operation.

The cover of the file was stamped with the blue seal of the British Colonial Governor's Office, dated April 1, 1948.

The title was "Agreement on Navigation and Management Rights of the Strait of Malacca."

Opening it, the first paragraph read: "This agreement is jointly signed by the Governor of the Straits Settlements and the Government of the Federation of Malaya, confirming that the rights of passage, pilotage, and port management of the Strait of Malacca and its adjacent waters belong to the Straits Settlements Government and the British Royal Navy Far East Fleet. Without the approval of the British Royal Navy, the Federation of Malaya shall not levy any fees or impose restrictions on vessels passing through the strait."

On the signature page, the signature of the representative of the Federation of Malaya was so scribbled it looked like a single stroke—while the signature of the Governor of the Straits Settlements was neat and powerful, and the ink from the pen had not yet faded.

Zhang Cheng turned this file to the last page and stopped at an italicized note: The validity of this agreement shall not be changed by the independence of the Federation of Malaya, nor shall it be terminated by the dissolution of the Straits Settlements.

He closed the file and placed it in the most conspicuous position on his desk.

"It is not that I want to take back this sea. It is that the title deed for this sea was never returned to the people on this land from the very beginning."

The next day at 2:55 PM, in Conference Room B07 of Longcheng Base.

When the seven-member Malaysian special delegation walked into the conference room, the first thing they saw was that wall.

The entire wall had been converted into a giant holographic screen. The screen displayed real-time satellite surveillance of the Strait of Malacca at that moment—every ship was a moving point of light; green represented approved passage, red represented unapplied, and yellow represented under review. The red dots were concentrated in the waters off the eastern entrance of the strait, dense and packed like a swarm of ants blocked outside an anthill.

The Malaysian negotiator, Tunku Azlan—former ambassador to the UK and current special envoy of the Ministry of Transport—stood in front of that wall, watching for a full twenty seconds. The Deputy Minister of Defense, Zhang Taiwen, who was following behind him, had a stiff expression, while the legal advisor from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was busy writing something in a notebook; the sound of the pen tip scratching across the paper seemed very harsh in the quiet conference room.

At three o'clock sharp, Zhang Cheng's holographic projection appeared directly opposite the conference table. He did not sit, and there were no holographic projection receivers behind the seats of the Malaysian representatives—the image was projected vertically from the ceiling, and Zhang Cheng's figure was a head taller than a real person, wearing a dark green military service uniform with a baobab leaf badge pinned to his chest.

"Please sit," Zhang Cheng said.

Seven people sat down. Tunku's gaze moved from his epaulets to the situation map behind him, and then to the open paper file in the center of the conference table—that thing was not a projection, it was a physical object. The blue colonial seal on the cover reflected a cold luster under the white light of the conference room.

"The document you see," Zhang Cheng did not wait for him to speak, "is the original copy of the 'Agreement on Navigation and Management Rights of the Strait of Malacca' signed by the Governor of the British Straits Settlements in 1948. When it was signed, there were no Chinese representatives present, no Tamil representatives present, and no Peranakan representatives present. Even—most of the people in the Federation of Malaya delegation did not see the full text of this agreement. What they saw was only a summary."