World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

He recalled Chen Feng's words in Hawaii: "Melica doesn't need to win the world through war. Time is on Melica's side."

Perhaps Chen Feng is right. But politics is not philosophy; it cannot only consider the long term. Public sentiment, congressional pressure, and national dignity—these are all immediate issues that must be addressed.

He glanced at his watch: 4:28.

The British ambassador should be arriving soon.

Cecil Spring-Rice entered the Oval Office with a perfectly measured somber expression. The 63-year-old veteran diplomat had served the British Foreign Office for forty years, weathering countless crises. He knew today's conversation wouldn't be pleasant, but he also knew he had to get through it.

"Mr. President, thank you for taking the time to meet with me during this difficult time." His English had an elegant Oxford accent.

"Please sit down, Mr. Ambassador." Wilson did not stand up, but simply gestured to the sofa opposite the fireplace.

Spring-Rice sat down and noticed that there was no tea or refreshments on the coffee table—a subtle sign. Usually, such formal meetings would include at least a pot of coffee.

"First of all, please allow me, on behalf of the British government and people, to express my deepest condolences to the victims of the NY-107 ferry disaster," the ambassador began, his tone sincere. "This barbaric act against civilians must be condemned by the whole world."

Wilson looked at him without saying a word.

The silence lasted for about ten seconds. In diplomatic settings, ten seconds of silence is unsettling.

Spring Rice remained calm, but her fingers, resting on her knees, curled slightly.

"Mr. Ambassador," Wilson finally spoke, his voice flat, "I met with the Secretary of the Army and the Secretary of the Navy today. They showed me an analysis report from the Office of Naval Intelligence regarding the movements of the destroyers HMS Courageous and HMS Vigilant at the time of the incident."

Here it comes. Spring Rice mentally prepared herself.

"The report points out that the timing of the two destroyers leaving the escort formation deviates from standard anti-submarine procedures." Wilson picked up the thin document from the table, but did not hand it to the ambassador; he simply held it. "The records of the sonar before the so-called 'suspicious contact' also appear... vague."

"The situation in war is always complex, Mr. President," Spring-Rice responded cautiously. "Commanders at sea need to make judgments based on rapidly changing situations. Sometimes, overly cautious decisions may seem inappropriate in hindsight."

"Too cautious," Wilson repeated the word, as if savoring its meaning. "To leave the fleet in order to protect it. Do you think that logic holds water?"

"I am not a naval expert..."

"But you're a diplomatic expert." Wilson put down the documents and leaned forward. "An expert should know that there are things that can be done but not said. There are lines that can be drawn but not crossed."

The air in the office seemed to freeze.

The firewood in the fireplace crackled and popped, the sound exceptionally clear.

“Mr. President,” Spring-Rice chose to confront him directly, “are you implying that Britain deliberately exposed the Merica merchant ships to danger? This accusation is extremely serious and baseless. Britain and Merica are friends and allies; how could we possibly do anything to harm Merica citizens?”

“Friends,” Wilson said slowly, “allies. Yes. So when friends are in trouble, we should be honest with each other, not play tricks.”

He stood up, walked to the world map, and turned his back to the ambassador.

"I know how much pressure Britain is under. I know the Western Front is about to crumble. I know you need the Merikas to join the war, the sooner the better." Wilson's voice came from the direction of the map, eerily calm. "But using the blood of the Merikas as leverage to force the Germans into a position where they have no choice but to attack—that's short-sighted, Mr. Ambassador. Very short-sighted."

Spring Rice felt a cold sweat break out on his back. He hadn't expected Wilson to be so direct.

"Mr. President, I must lodge a strong protest—"

"Save your breath." Wilson turned around, his eyes icy. "There are only the two of us here. You can continue your performance, but I'm not going to cooperate. Let's talk terms."

The ambassador opened his mouth, but ultimately chose to remain silent. This was tacit agreement.

Wilson walked back to his seat, but instead of sitting down, he stood by the fireplace with his hands on the marble mantel.

"First, the Merica Atlantic Fleet will take full control of the escort missions along the North American-British route, effective immediately. We will establish a 'safe corridor' covered by sufficient destroyers and cruisers. The British Navy can assist, but command will remain with us."

Spring-Rice quickly weighed the options. This meant that Micah had essentially engaged in naval warfare, just without a formal declaration of war. This was a significant development. "London would welcome this decision."

"Secondly, the ground forces of Merika will not be immediately deployed to the European theater. We need time to mobilize, train, and prepare. This time may be six months or a year. During this period, Britain and France must hold the Western Front on their own."

The ambassador's expression changed: "Mr. President, French morale is on the verge of collapse. Without the clear commitment from the Marilyn troops, they may not survive the German spring offensive this year."

"Then let's find a way to keep them afloat." Wilson wouldn't budge. "With this promise: Melika is on her way. But we have to take it one step at a time."

"But--"

"Third," Wilson interrupted him, "and the most crucial point."

He went back to his desk and took another document from the drawer. This time he handed it to the ambassador.

Spring-Rice took the document and quickly glanced at it. The document was printed, without a header or signature, but its contents made him gasp.

That was an assessment summary of the secret military cooperation between Lanfang and Japan. It included the fifty divisions that Japan was forming, the weapons and equipment provided by Lanfang, and Chen Feng's warning to Wilson in Hawaii: if Meilika joined the war, Lanfang would also get involved.

"This is..." the ambassador looked up.

"General Chen Feng told me this himself," Wilson said, sitting back in his chair. "He told me in Hawaii that Lanfang wanted the war to continue but not escalate. If Meilika entered the war, forcing Lanfang to choose sides, they would choose to protect their own interests—and their interests might conflict with Britain's interests in the Far East."

Spring-Rice's hands began to tremble. Not from fear, but from shock.

Fifty Sakura National Guard units. Over one million people. If this force, with Lanfang's support, were to side with Germany, if Lanfang's six Bismarck-class battleships were to appear in the Indian Ocean…

India, Singapore, and Australia—the jewels in the crown of the British Empire—will all be exposed to threats.