Had the President asked directly for her opinion, she would have stood up and lied.
All she wanted was the return of that scarred, weary, frightened man whose features had appeared so briefly on the communications monitor.
'And what about the charge of unfitness?' President Waters asked. 'What do we know about this Lieutenant Colonel Reno? Why should I put any credence whatsoever in his accusations?'
The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff raised his hand from the table as if freeing a small bird. 'I don't know Lieutenant Colonel Reno personally, Mr. President. But I knew his father. Good family. Army since Christ was a corporal. If you'll excuse the expression, sir.'
'Mr. President,' Bouquette jumped in, 'I can second that. I worked for General Reno when he chaired the old interagency group. Any son of his would stand for the old tried-and-true values.'
'I take it,' Waters said quietly, 'that Colonel Taylor does not spring from a good, old family?'
Bouquette and the chairman glanced at each other, sensing that they had maneuvered themselves into a dangerous position. After a brief mental holding action, the chairman replied matter-of-factly:
'Mr. President, I know nothing of Colonel Taylor's antecedents.'
'But the man has a good military record?'
'Yes, sir. Colonel Taylor has a remarkable military record. But… even the scrappiest street-fighter may not turn out to be Olympic boxing material. Personally, I've always been fond of George Taylor. But we have to bear in mind that we just may have taken a superb tactical soldier and elevated him beyond his competence. Certainly, if I had to go back to, say, Mexico, I'd want George Taylor in my foxhole. Fine, fine soldier. But we may have asked too much of him by putting him in so independent and sensitive a position.'
Waters nodded. 'All right. Next issue. From a purely military standpoint, what chance would Colonel Taylor's operation have of success?'
This time the chairman did not require a pause to analyze the situation. 'Only the slightest. One in ten? One in a hundred? It's not really possible to quantify it, as Colonel Taylor himself pointed out. But, you see, Mr. President, an operation of that kind requires careful and extensive planning… weeks, if not months, of rehearsals. You've got to war-game every possible contingency. Ideally, you'd want to build a mock-up of the Japanese headquarters complex, for instance. And you heard what Colonel Taylor admitted — he'd have to rely on the Soviets for refueling. Now, the Soviets are trying to look cooperative, but I personally don't believe they're about to support any more grand offensive operations, in the wake of what happened at Orsk. Turning over that computer brain, for instance — I suspect they were just anxious to get rid of the damned thing. They're passing the hot potato and they just want their fingers to stop burning.' The chairman looked down at the fine wood of the tabletop. 'George Taylor's a good soldier, and he doesn't want to admit he's licked. I admire him for that. But we have to take the broader perspective, sir. If nothing else, you can't just run an operation like this off the cuff. I'm willing to go on record to say I am one hundred percent opposed to this endeavor.'
'You don't think,' Waters asked gently, 'that desperate times may call for desperate actions?'
The chairman put down his hand, retrapping the invisible bird.
'Desperate? Perhaps, Mr. President. But not foolhardy.'
'Any further reverses at the hands of the Japanese,' the secretary of state added, 'would only lessen our international stature. As it is, we may even claim a substantial achievement in the direct effects of our latest generation of weaponry. We may even be able to turn around the world's perception of the Japanese, to advertise the fact that these Scramblers are inhuman. If we go cautiously and avoid further provocations, we may be able to draw a certain — and not inconsiderable — amount of political capital from all this.'
Waters nodded. 'I'm anxious to hear your view, Miles,' he said to the national security adviser, who had been working studiously on his fingernails.
Ambushed, the man looked up in surprise. 'Well, Mr. President… I think it's all perfectly clear. The Russians want to call it a day. They're heading for the lifeboats. We'd be fools to let ourselves get caught in the middle.' Waters began tapping his pencil on his china cup again. The air in the room was very bad, despite the efforts of the ventilation system.
'Thank you,' Waters said, 'for your assessment. Now, Cliff,' he turned to Bouquette. 'Back to the intelligence front. Are you in a position yet to guarantee that there will be no new surprises?'
Bouquette looked embarrassed. He rose to his feet with considerably less alacrity than was his habit, touching the line of his tie.
'Unfortunately, Mr. President, I can't offer you such a guarantee. As you know, intelligence work is very complex. And, admittedly, we failed at least part of our test. I am, in fact, already working through a draft plan to streamline and improve the Agency's performance. I'd like to make it my personal mission to ensure that such a failure, however understandable, does not happen again.'
'Thank you, Cliff.'
'Mr. President?' Bouquette continued. He fingered his tie again, hand moving closer to the knot. 'I feel I should add a comment about this Colonel Williams you've been hearing about. The one who came up with this cracked-brain idea in the first place, according to Colonel Taylor. You see, I've known Colonel Williams for years. The intelligence community is one big family. And, while one may have reasonable doubts about Colonel Taylor's qualifications, I can state categorically that it was a considerable error to allow Colonel Williams to deploy forward in the first place. Had he worked for me, the man would have been out of a job a long time ago. But these people sometimes slip through the system. Colonel Williams is the sort who enjoys turning over the apple cart, then leaving the mess for the more dutiful to clean up. He is exactly the sort who brings discredit upon the labors of the hardworking men and women of the intelligence community.
He is self-aggrandizing, and he is not a team player. He is definitely not to be trusted.'
President Waters gave the china cup a last good tap with his pencil and asked, 'You wouldn't happen to know, would you, Cliff, whether or not this Colonel Williams comes from a good, old family?'
'Mr. President,' Bouquette stammered, 'as you know,
I would never suggest… as regards Lieutenant Colonel Reno, I was only commenting that his family was known to me personally. But I certainly did not mean to suggest… after all, we all realize that this is the United States of America…'
'Thank you, Cliff.' If nothing else, Waters thought, even if I have failed in my office, if I lose the election by the greatest majority in history, and even if I go down in the books as the most pathetically inept of presidents, I have had the satisfaction of seeing Clifton Reynard Bouquette nonplussed.
Waters glanced at the clock on the wall.
'Well, gentlemen,' he said. 'The time has come for me to make my decision. I feel that each of you has made his position abundantly clear. If anyone wishes to offer a last counterview, please do so, but it appears to me that you are unanimously opposed to any further offensive military action, and that you are specifically opposed to the plan recommended by Colonel Taylor.'
The required moment of silence dusted the room, then the secretary of state said:
'I think that sums it up, Mr. President.'
Waters looked around the room one last time, briefly inspecting each fixed expression. The girl, now, Bouquette's sidekick, she had fire in her eyes. Waters knew the type. The smart unattractive girls who expected the Joan of Arc story to have a happy ending the next time around.
'All right,' Waters said. 'Connect me with Colonel Taylor.'
There was no delay. In a moment, Taylor's face filled the screen. It was evident that he had been waiting, and now Waters could read explicit worry in the haggard features.
Life hasn’t been very kind to that poor bastard, Waters thought.
'Colonel Taylor? Can you hear me all right?'
'Yes, Mr. President.'
'Colonel Taylor, we’ve discussed your proposition at length, and I have to tell you that my advisers are uniformly opposed to the action.'
Taylor flinched, as if punched hard in the body.
'Yes, Mr. President.'
'The consensus is that this raid would have little chance of success, that it would be foolhardy, and that it could well do great harm to our negotiating position and international standing.'
