Power Curve (19 page)

“Not any more, you’re not,” Overmeyer grumbled. He was chewing on an unlit cigar, turning it into a ragged stump. “Charles, get him up to speed.” He paused, thinking. “Bender, if I give you the nod, speak up.” He stomped out of the office, and Charles quickly filled Bender in on the situation.

Bender’s stomach turned into an icy void. “Have we got a war on our hands?”

“It looks that way,” Charles replied. “But the CIA and State are not so sure. I hope to hell they’re right.” Bender followed him into the packed Cabinet Room and found a seat against the back wall, opposite Madeline Turner’s chair. He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened, and everyone automatically stood when she entered. Shaw was right behind. Bender studied her, looking for clues. She was calm and poised, her hair brushed back and wearing little makeup. She was wearing a dark suit and walked with confidence. He was reminded of the time in the Situation Room when she had reacted with calm fortitude to the revelation that President Roberts had sold out Taiwan.

“Please be seated,” she said, her voice matching her image. “We,” she began, “must formulate a response to this crisis. But I want to make it very clear that I will not be the first president in this century to take our country into a needless war.”

Or the first woman president
, Bender mentally added. He listened as the discussion moved around the table. It
was obvious that there was no agreement on how to respond. Those favoring a military response, led by Overmeyer, wanted to draw a line in the water, whereas those seeking a diplomatic solution, championed by Barnett Francis, the newly confirmed secretary of state, wanted to negotiate. It was rapidly coming to an impasse.

Bender glanced at Shaw and saw an extremely contented man. Why? Then it came to him. Shaw wanted a distraction to turn Turner away from tax reform.
The bastard!
he raged to himself.
He’s more than willing to let a foreign threat build and rage out of control to save a political situation at home. That’s why he ignored the first warnings. He doesn’t give a damn about the price
.

For Bender, the price was measured in casualties. He forced himself to calm down. Not even Shaw was that cynical, he decided. Suddenly, his mental image of Shaw cleared, and the man stepped into full view. Shaw truly believed that tax reform was not in Turner’s best interests and that he was saving the president from herself. But he was still Patrick Flannery Shaw, and if he couldn’t convince the president, he would let events distract her. Shaw’s initial reaction to the WATCHCON III had been based on an honest doubt and even Bender had found himself momentarily questioning Overmeyer’s motives. In that moment, the murky fog that had swirled around Shaw was gone and Bender saw him for what he was: a politician no better or worse than any of the breed inhabiting the Capitol. Shaw was, without a doubt, more devious, certainly more lusty, but there were lines even he would not cross.

An angry voice caught Bender’s attention. The DCI was on the attack. “That cowboy at Kadena is out of control. When he put the base on alert, he took our best option off the table. We might have been able to publicly ignore this while negotiating a resolution in secret.”

“Are you saying,” Shaw asked, “that he honored the threat when he shouldn’t have?”

Barnett Francis spoke up. “Exactly. He sent the Chinese the message that we will overtly oppose their actions with force if need be. That is a message we did not want sent at this time.”

Overmeyer started to speak, then stopped. He looked at Bender and nodded. “I think there’s a basic misunderstanding here,” Bender said. Everyone in the room looked at him, shocked that a nobody had the arrogance to contradict the secretary of state. Bender plunged ahead in the silence. “When General Martini put his base on alert and assumed a defensive posture, he was protecting his people. A commander never loses the right of self-defense. The Chinese understand that and expected it. If he launches armed aircraft to defend his base before he is attacked, then he is honoring the threat.” The look on Overmeyer’s face was ample warning that he had said the wrong thing.

Turner also saw Overmeyer’s reaction. “Thank you, General Bender,” she said.

A military aide from the communications room entered and handed Shaw two messages. He scanned them and looked up. “The Chinese fleet has changed direction to the southeast and is now headed toward the Yaeyama Islands. On their present heading, the vanguard will enter Japanese waters in less than two hours.” He held up the second message. “And the Japanese ambassador requests an immediate audience with the president.”

The CNO, chief of Naval Operations, stood and flashed a laser pointer at the big map at the far end of the room. A red pinpoint of light moved around the island chain 275 miles southwest of Okinawa. “The Yaeyama Islands are the southernmost part of Japanese territory,” the admiral said. “The major island in the group is Iriomote Jima, which is about 100 miles from Taiwan. It appears Iriomote is their objective.”

“Or,” the DCI said, “as I have maintained, this is an exercise and they are turning around.”

“General Overmeyer?” Turner asked, wanting his opinion.

“They may be turning,” Overmeyer said. “A task force that size needs sea room to maneuver. We need to watch them.”

“Am I correct in saying,” Turner asked, “that there is no immediate threat to our people on Okinawa.”

Overmeyer looked like he was about to explode. “Yes, ma’am. You are correct in saying that.”

“How were the Chinese able to build a carrier task force so quickly that scares you all silly?” Turner asked.

The CNO answered her question. “They bought it. When the Soviet Union came apart, the
Yaryag
, an Admiral Kuznetsov class aircraft carrier, was eighty percent complete. The Russians sold it to the Chinese. That was bad enough, but the Russians also sold them ninety Su-27K Flanker aircraft to go with it.”

Turner looked at Bender. “Robert, didn’t you shoot down a Flanker?”

“No, ma’am. It was a Fulcrum, a MiG-29. The Fulcrum and the Flanker look very similar, but the Flanker is bigger and a match for the F-15.”

Turner closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “What is the strongest possible message I can send the Chinese that we. are in a defensive posture militarily?”

This was for Overmeyer. “Order a Condition Scarlet for the entire forward area in the Pacific and go to DEFCON FOUR.” DEFCON FOUR, defensive condition 4, was the lowest level of increased defense readiness. It was also a signal that the United States was preparing to use its military.

“Barnett?” she asked.

The secretary of state stared at his hands. “Send an immediate message to the Chinese ambassador calling him to the State Department. I will protest to him in the strongest possible terms while you reassure the Japanese ambassador.”

Turner made her decision. “Declare Condition Scarlet in the western Pacific and call in the ambassadors. But do not declare DEFCON FOUR. For the time being, I’ll monitor developments from the Oval Office. Please stay available in case we need to reconvene. But under no circumstances do I want to make the situation worse than it already is. Any questions?”

Bender scribbled a brief message on a notepad, “What is the ROE?” and handed it to General Charles. The Air Force chief of staff glanced at it and shook his head, saying nothing. The meeting was over, and Turner walked out with Shaw, Secretary of Defense Elkins, Francis, and the DCI right behind her. Bender waited while Overmeyer
and Charles spoke quietly with the chief of Naval Operations. He hoped they were discussing the rules of engagement. Charles motioned Bender to them.

“Sir,” Bender said, “apparently I said the wrong thing in there.”

Overmeyer stared at him. “You didn’t.”

What’s going on?
Bender wondered.
Everyone in the room saw your reaction
. “Shouldn’t we have clarified the rules of engagement if the Chinese penetrate Japanese airspace or territorial waters?”

“Nothing needs to be clarified,” Overmeyer said. “According to the treaty returning Okinawa to Japanese control, we reserve the right to defend our national assets if a hostile force penetrates Japanese territory or airspace.”

“Sir,” Bender said, “that treaty was signed over thirty years ago. I don’t think the president understands the ROE.”

“If she wants to know,” Overmeyer muttered, “she only has to ask.” He spun around and stomped out of the Cabinet Room.

“Don’t worry,” Charles said. “We’ll clear it up after she meets with the Japanese ambassador.”

“That might be leaving it a bit late,” Bender protested. Charles did not answer. “Sir,” Bender said, frustration eating at him, “what’s going on? From the look on the chairman’s face, I could have sworn I said the wrong thing about Martini.”

“You said exactly what the chairman wanted to hear. But he knew Turner was looking at him. So he frowned, and she reacted the opposite. She accepted what you said.”

Bender looked at the admiral. “Sir, with all due respect, what happened to the Navy? You should have been a big player in this.”

The CNO’s face turned beet red. “This goes no further than right here. The
Nimitz
is in Yokohama, thirty hours away, and the
Reagan
near Singapore, three days away. Before you joined us, the president decided to withhold the Navy for now.” His voice filled with bitterness. “Like the lady said, she doesn’t want to make the situation worse than it is.”

“Submarines?” Bender asked.

“Same story,” the CNO answered.

“What have we been doing the last three days?” Bender asked.

A hard silence held the three men. “Not much,” Charles finally answered.

Liz Gordon came out of the press briefing room, her quick stride snapping the fabric of her short skirt. The brief statement by the press secretary had been a waste of time, and her frustration was building. Ben, her cameraman, was waiting for her. “The network wants a package on the press secretary’s briefing,” he said. “What the hell is going down?”

“I wish I knew,” she grumbled. “We either have a full-fledged crisis going or the fuckup of the century.”

“Either way it makes for good news,” Ben said. He handed her an overcoat and scarf. “Let’s do an exterior.” She followed him outside with two other reporters and their cameramen who were also working the latest crisis to hit the White House.

After checking her hair and makeup, she took the microphone. On impulse, she shook her head, giving her hair an unruly, hectic look that matched the situation. “Is the Far East about to explode?” she began. “No one seems to know. The facts are simple. A large Chinese fleet is sailing into the East China Sea on what may be a large military exercise or an incursion into Japanese waters. Veteran China watchers claim Beijing is only increasing the psychological pressure on the Japanese to break their economic stranglehold on Asian markets.”

As arranged, she stopped for Paul Ferguson, the distinguished anchor in the studio to ask a question. “Liz, does the Pentagon support this view?”

“Paul, the Pentagon has been strangely silent. We are told they are very worried, and there has been talk of honoring the threat. But other than that, inactivity seems to be the watchword.”

“What is the White House’s reaction?” the anchor asked, his voice heavy with concern and carrying what insiders called
pompous-assed gravitas
.

“President Turner is meeting with the Japanese ambassador while the Chinese ambassador has been called to the State Department. Inside sources claim the secretary of state is delivering a strongly worded warning to the Chinese.”

“But, Liz, do we have a crisis or is this simply a misunderstanding stemming from a military exercise?”

“Paul, that is the question that has not been answered. For now, we can only wait for further developments. This is Elizabeth Gordon, standing by at the White House.”

“That’s a good one,” Ben said. He listened to the instructions coming from the network through his headset. “They want something more definitive or Fergy is going to start calling this the Counterfeit Crisis. What’cha think?”

“Premature,” Liz replied. “There’s more going down here than we know.”

“Why not interview General Bender?” the cameraman suggested, remembering their interview from August. “We need an inside.”

“The great stone face? We’d be lucky to get five words out of that bastard.”
But Ben is right
, she thought, considering her options. A little smile played at her lips.

Okinawa, Japan

It was almost midnight on Okinawa, and the base had been in Condition Scarlet for six and a half hours. The Support Group commander sat down beside Martini in the Battle Cab. “How’s the kid doing?” Martini asked.

“Ryan?” the colonel asked. A nod from Martini. “Damn good after you got his attention. He’s a quick study and has been coordinating the Med Center’s actions with the rest of the base. He’s made some good changes and improved our response.”

Martini grunted. Maybe he would let Ryan off the hook. After all, teaching was a major part of his job, and as long as Ryan was learning, they were making progress. But had any harm been done? He looked around the command post. It hummed with purposeful activity and
seventy-two of his seventy-four jets were armed and ready to launch. The Security Police were fully augmented by support personnel and deployed in bunkers around the base. The disaster response teams were all in place, and Maintenance was moving critical equipment into the hardened aircraft shelters for protection. The motor pool had dispersed all its vehicles and was busy filling sandbags. He snorted, his way of showing relief. The 7,300 men and women under his command were ready.

But he was a worried man. He still had 11,000 family members and dependents on his base to protect. A perverse thought came to him. But the more he considered it, the less wrongheaded it seemed. He turned to the Support Group commander. “Chuck, what’s your take on Major Ryan?”

“Smart as hell and ambitious. He did good work setting up the Personnel Reliability Program. He’s got an ego problem and thinks he’s smarter than everybody else. He’s convinced that allows him to take shortcuts and manipulate the system. Definitely not a team player. Still, I see lots of potential there.”