Sudden Threat (42 page)

I bet, you sneaky son of a bitch.

“Well, thank you. Send my regards to Prime Minister Mizuzawa.”

“I shall.”

“Oh, by the way. My condolences on the death of your emperor. He was a good man,” the president said sincerely. He had known Emperor Shigazawa to be a kind and caring person.

“Thank you. I will pass your remarks on to the prime minister.”

President Davis watched Ambassador Kaitachi leave his office, knowing full well that the diplomat was lying. He wanted to stop him and tell him that they knew everything, but that would have been a mistake.

Davis felt confident for the first time in days. He finally had the upper hand.

The president, still
seated in his office, was wondering if they might be able to let Japan attack the Philippines, then counter with American force, eschewing the United Nations initially. After which, they could petition the UN for a peacekeeping force and mandatory trade concessions that would regulate trade imbalances. The key was forcing Japan into the “Hitler” aggressor role as America had rightly done, and was doing, with Saddam Hussein.
That shouldn’t be too hard.

President Davis jotted a note on White House stationery, then called his press aide and gave him some instructions regarding packaging his speech to the American people, the one that would inform the world of impending American action in the Philippines.

Not against the Islamic insurgents, but against Japan.

He picked up a remote and turned on the television, flipping through the channels rather quickly, then stopping and backing up. Then forward again. He recognized someone. There it was.

Kaitachi was on television. The president noticed the small c-span symbol in the corner of the screen. Kaitachi was briefing the General Assembly of the United Nations. He raised the volume and listened as the interpreter spoke after Kaitachi talked in his native tongue. The ambassador must have taken the Japanese diplomatic jet to LaGuardia. Door to door from DC to the UN was less than two hours with the efficient transportation that a head of state or ambassador typically commanded.

“I have just received word from Prime Minister Mizuzawa that I am to address the body today concerning the revolution in the Philippines. Also, I briefed the president of the United States this morning on my remarks today.”

What the hell is he talking about!
The president sat forward in his chair, pressed an intercom button, and screamed into the receiver, “Dave, get in here, now!” The National Security Advisor came running into the oval office and saw the president watching C-SPAN.

“Look at this shit!”

They watched as Kaitachi spoke.

“Today, we have joined alliances with the United States in a dramatic way in this Global War on Terror. The Japanese military has landed on the Philippine Island of Luzon with a small show of force in an effort to ensure that our critical sea-lanes remain open. As you all know, we orchestrated the release of American and freedom-seeking peoples from the Philippines. Regrettably, further negotiations with Commander Talbosa, the so-called Abu Sayyaf leader, have led to his refusal to cooperate and resulted in a serious threat to Japanese sea-lanes and freedom-seeking peoples in the country.

“The barbaric acts of this Islamic ideologue must not go unchecked. His actions threaten the nascent democracies in the region. We have had several discussions with President Davis and his secretary of defense, who have requested assistance regarding this vital matter. I will provide transcripts of these conversations for the media. In effect, we were given the green light by the United States to handle the situation ourselves, and so we have.

“We promise to attempt to crush Islamic fundamentalism, restore the democratic process to the Philippines, and ensure that our vital sea-lanes remain open. Our only goal is to alleviate the burden and pain of the Filipinos, who will surely suffer under the rule of Sharia law.

“Rest assured, we have no designs beyond protecting the fine people of the Philippines and protecting our vital interests. We want to thank our great allies, the United States, for their advice and assistance in this matter.”

Kaitachi finished and walked away from the podium, leaving behind a speechless delegation, U.S. president, and world community.

Palmer snatched the remote and flipped to CNN, which was scrambling with the news. A CNN correspondent was sticking a microphone in his ear, looking at his notes, ready to provide some in-depth analysis.

Palmer shut off the television.

He and Davis looked at one another for a few brief seconds. Japan had surrounded them with bishops, knights, and rooks. The president felt frozen in place. Was America facing a potential checkmate? No, that wasn’t possible.

It occurred to him, as it might have occurred to Napoleon that Wellington was indeed on the reverse slope of the hill as his forces impaled themselves on the British lances, that they had been at least one step behind Japan at every juncture.

“Why do I feel like we’re standing here holding our jockstraps, Dave?”

Palmer looked uncomfortably at the floor, then leveled his eyes on the president.

“Because we are, sir.”

CHAPTER 75

McLean, Virginia

Meredith had raced to her condo five minutes away in Pentagon City, where she was pulling her nylons over her legs and had a hairbrush clutched between her teeth doing the “Superman change,” as she called it. It was nearing seven o’clock, and Latisha had called to remind her that Stone was expecting her to arrive at his home for some planning. Latisha had mentioned that they might return to the Pentagon after the secretary had his dinner, depending on developments in the Philippines. She was not thrilled about having to fight DC rush-hour traffic from her Arlington apartment to his McLean mansion.

The television was blasting FoxNews in the background as she stood, yanking the hose up around her waist, then letting her cocktail dress fall to her knees. She stepped to the mirror, sighed, and said, “This will have to do.”

She slipped Rathburn’s thumb drive into her purse, disappointed that she’d not had much time to truly consider what its contents might be, or might portend.

“Ambassador Kaitachi has just announced that Japan intends to join forces with the United States in the Global War on Terror to, and I quote, ‘crush Islamic fundamentalism’ in the Philippines …”

She was brushing her hair, then in slow motion she stopped the smooth stroke against her blond locks, staring at the image of the television in the mirror.

“Oh my God,” she said.

Her mind raced and locked onto the big picture. Just as the Third Reich had begun with the embarrassment and constraining loss of territory from World War I’s Treaty of Versailles, Japan was still smarting from World War II’s post conflict occupation and dominance by the Americans. Like an ill patient who has sweat through the sheets shedding a virus, Japan has suffered the alien imposition of Western culture only to come back to their native heritage.

Hitler had started with the Night of the Long Knives, where key German leaders were murdered in order to allow for consolidation of power.
The Japanese Emperor has just committed suicide,
she thought.

Then Hitler got around the German constitution limiting their Army to one hundred thousand soldiers by merging the Army and the Sturmab-teilung, the assault force.
Japan is circumventing their constitution by building tanks and helicopters in the Philippines.

In 1938, Hitler compelled Austrian Chancellor Kurt von Schuschnigg to capitulate in a bloodless invasion. Then followed Sudetenland, or Czechoslovakia, then Poland and …

“Oh my God,” she said again.

Japan is starting with the Philippines, then going to Taiwan!

How did we miss this?

She jumped in her old Honda Prelude and took the George Washington Parkway from her Pentagon Row apartment onto Dolley Madison and into McLean. She found the address and debated a few minutes whether to pull into the long driveway or park on the street. She looked around and deter-mined that her piece of junk might get towed if she left it on the street. As she pulled into the long driveway, she noticed that it arced in front of the huge colonial mansion. She followed the curve and stopped just beyond the hedgerow that abutted the asphalt.

She stood, grabbed her briefcase and purse, and walked up the steps.

Soaking in the moment, and the environment, the old Virginia Slims commercial rang in her head.

You’ve come a long way, baby
.

CHAPTER 76

Stone swirled his Scotch in his glass and thought about the day. He had met with the Joint Chiefs once again to discuss the announcement of the Japanese ambassador at the United Nations. The media frenzy was predictable but unnerving. War in Afghanistan was raging, and now the Philippines? How were Abu Sayyaf and Al Qaeda linked? Did the Philippines add a Pacific Rim dimension to the Global War on Terror? Did it scuttle the plan for Iraq? How much joint and combined planning had the United States done with the Japanese?

All good questions.

He had given a brief press conference, not wanting to say anything of significance before the president’s speech. They had worked hard through the day, and there was little else he could do tonight other than monitor the situation from his home. Besides, he had Meredith coming over for dinner shortly, and with his wife out of town, he thought he might digress from the rapid pace of events for a while.
It’s officially a meeting
, he thought to himself.

She smiled at me a lot today. I’m Mick Jagger!
Stone muddied his mind with prurient thoughts of Meredith.
She’s wearing prettier dresses for me.
She wants me, I can tell.

He sat in his leather recliner in the study of his McLean mansion, which had cost well over two million dollars. It was a large, redbrick, Colonial design. The house was beautiful, with far too many rooms for any two people, and Stone had a servant who lived in separate quarters.

He heard the doorbell ring and listened to the footsteps of Andre, his butler for all practical purposes. He heard the banter of small talk and smiled when he heard Meredith’s voice sing sweetly in the large foyer, drifting through the expansive hallways, echoing into the abyss of his depraved mind.
She wants me. Otherwise, she would not have shown.
He had changed into a shirt and sweater with khaki pants. He figured the collegiate look might attract her. The sweater could not hide his protruding gut, though, and the khaki pants did not make him look any taller. In fact, Meredith was a good two inches taller than he was. It made him uncomfortable, and, therefore, he had to conquer her.

“Hello, sir,” Meredith said in a cheery voice. She was dressed in a simple blue cocktail dress that plunged moderately low into her bustline
.

White pearls lay softly against her bare neck, beckoning to him. Her hair was its usual blond splendor, only frozen into place with hair spray. The dress cut above her panty-hose-covered knees, and angled slightly up on the left side, teasing him. A faint smell of perfume circled him, accelerating his lust.

Her innocent smile and wide blue eyes greeted him, comforting him in his own knowledge that indeed she did want him.
She dressed up just for me.

“Meredith, you look beautiful. I’m sorry I underdressed. I thought we were just going to go over a few notes. I can go change if you’d like,” he said, standing from the chair.
Good move, Mick old boy. Make her the aggressor
.

Andre had floated back to the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Boss man be getting some tonight
. After catching sight of Meredith, Andre could not blame him.

“No, no,” she said, smiling, and grabbing him by the arm. She was personable and liked to touch in a social setting. It was her way of communicating.

Touching, already. That’s good. Very good.

“I’ve got the briefcase right here. And after hearing Kaitachi, I think we’ve got plenty to work on.”

“I was just going to have some dinner with Mrs. Stone, but she got called away. Would you like her plate?” Stone said.

“I’m so sorry,” Meredith said, again lightly touching his arm. He wanted to reach out and satisfy her on the spot. She obviously wanted him. The dress, the hair, the perfume, the pearls, the face, the smile, the high heels, the touching. Yes, there was no doubt she wanted him.

“Drinks?” Andre asked. He wore a white butler coat and shirt, with black pants and a black bow tie.

“Meredith?” Stone said, smiling, knowing what bounty lay ahead for him. He would savor the moment.

“Whatever you’re having, sir,” she said, her voice oozing over him, causing his heart to flutter. He blushed.

“Two glasses of champagne, please Andre,” he said. “And bring the bottle.” Yes, they would drink, loosen inhibitions, and maybe even skip dinner.
I knew it. She’s wanted me since day one.

They sat on the leather sofa and drank cham-pagne. At some point Meredith had gained the courage to grab the remote control and flip the television to CNN, muting the volume so they could talk. She had one eye on the television though. Soon the president would be on.

Andre had served dinner and cleaned up, retiring for the evening to his quarters after bringing a second bottle of champagne. Stone had drunk most of the first bottle, distorting his already skewed perception of the evening. Meredith had successfully nursed two glasses but was feeling the effects of the alcohol. She still preferred beer.

“Ready to get to work, Meredith?” Stone said. He stood and stumbled.

“Don’t you want to wait for the president’s speech, sir?” Meredith asked seriously.