come from.”
“Jesus, that’s an easy one. We don’t even need to frown over that.”
“We don’t?”
“Nossir. The Indian Navy would give their eyeteeth to get China out of the Bay of Bengal and all points west of there. Remember that old animosity is as ingrained as that between Iraq and Iran. The Indians do not want the Chinese Navy prowling around in their backyard…. Remember, too, India is very nearly bigger than China in terms of population, and richer. I have thought for years they should be our best friends in the East.”
“
“Basically I think we tell no one what we’re about to do, except to tip off Admiral Kumar about our approximate plans. He’s gonna love it. So’s his Prime Minister.”
“You still favor the actions of your favorite troops, the cutthroats of the Navy SEALs using their world-famous techniques of solving all problems with high explosives.”
“Those are my methods of choice, sir. Mainly because no one quite knows what’s happened. And yet they can’t fail to know it must have been us.”
“Well, Arnold, since I’ve been in this chair, I’ve allowed you to unleash these guys on several targets, and I’m obliged to say they always bring home the bacon, some of it nicely fried.”
“This time it’s gonna be stir-fried. I’m sick to death of this Chinese crap.”
“Okay, Arnold, do your duty as you see it. Send ’em in, the silent destroyers.”
“That’s the way, sir. Maximum effect, minimum blame. We’ll give ’em seventy-eight bucks a barrel. Crazy pricks.”
He turned away from the Chief Executive and walked slowly out of the Oval Office. And his thoughts cascaded in on him, as his rich imagination took him into the hot, dark recesses of the sprawling refinery on the Strait of Hormuz.
And he thought of the guys, coming in hard and silent, out of the sea, moving across the sand, watching for armed sentries. And in his mind he felt their fear, and their strength, and their patriotism.
And he walked right by Kathy O’Brien’s desk without stopping, snapping out briskly just one command as he opened his office door:
“Get me Admiral John Bergstrom on the line. SPECWARCOM, Coronado Beach. Secure line. Encrypted. We’re talking Black Ops, Kathy. Usual procedures.”
5
Admiral Morgan’s call to SPECWARCOM was essentially a request to Admiral John Bergstrom to put two teams of Navy SEALs on 24-hour notice in Coronado, prepared to embark immediately for Diego Garcia. That conversation took less than four minutes.
“Just one thing…. Degree of danger?”
“High. But your guys probably won’t work up a sweat.”
The next call was likely to be more complex, since even Arnold Morgan could not take the United States to war all on his own. He asked his sole serving noncommissioned officer, Kathy O’Brien, to secure President Reagan’s old Situation Room on the lower floor of the West Wing.
Then he ordered her to summon the Secretary of State, the Defense Secretary, the Energy Secretary, the Chief of Naval Ops and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs to a meeting, top priority, classified, 90 minutes from then. He excluded the President, since he already had verbal Oval Office clearance to mount whatever military operation he saw fit. He assumed this particular President would deny all knowledge if the operation went wrong, which it had better not.
It was 1500 when General Tim Scannell came hurrying through the big wooden doors flanked by two saluting U.S. Marine guards. The door was closed firmly behind him, and he walked to his place at the head of the big table, at Admiral Morgan’s right hand. “I’m sorry to hold you up, gentlemen,” he said politely. “It’s just that we’ve got more going on in the Middle East than we’ve had since Saddam got above himself seventeen years ago. We’ve got more ships out there, too.”
To the left of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sat the Secretary of State, the steel-haired veteran diplomat Harcourt Travis, and the Energy Secretary, Jack Smith, probably the best CEO General Motors ever had. Opposite them were the recently appointed CNO, Admiral Alan Dixon, former Commander-in-Chief Atlantic Fleet, and the Defense Secretary, Robert MacPherson.
And because the meeting was convened and chaired by Admiral Morgan himself, the seating of the military men always placed them in some kind of ascendancy.
“Gentlemen,” he growled, frowning deeply, “right here we got a major shit fight on our hands.”
Jack Smith, attending his first effective war cabinet, smiled at the Admiral’s poetically worded appreciation of the situation, and added formally, “There’re reports of four-dollars-a-gallon gasoline in the Midwest.”
“Jesus Christ,” said Admiral Morgan.
He shook his head, and muttered, “If we’re not damned careful, this could get right out of hand.”
He then called the meeting to order and proceeded to outline the standoff in the gulf, and approximately what he proposed they should do about it.
“You all know roughly what’s happened. The Iranians and the Chinese between them have constructed a deep, we
“Right now we have five U.S. CVBGs either deep in the area or on their way. That’s essentially to protect the Indians, and make those seas safe again for the continued orderly conduct of the world’s oil and gas trade. By now, most of that’s routine and under control. However, in the early hours of this morning there was a development that I did not like. An unladen Japanese-registered tanker suddenly blew up at the north end of the Malacca Strait. I have reason to believe it was hit by a torpedo from a Chinese Kilo-Class submarine.
“I believe that Kilo was refueled at the new Chinese Navy Base in Burma on the Bassein River Delta. I further believe it’s on its way back there right now. But that’s just a sideshow.
“The real problem is China. Her intentions. The depth of her involvement in the mining of the strait, and her ambitions in the Arabian Sea, the gulf area, the Indian Ocean and in particular the Bay of Bengal….”
He paused, and no one spoke. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I am quite certain that if we do not chase China out of those oceans, we will live to regret it. Remember, they have been passive in terms of sea power for more than five hundred years, just running a coastal Navy to protect their own shores.
“But not anymore. They’re plainly in an expanionist mode, acquiring submarines, destroyers and a couple of aircraft carriers from the Russians. They’re building a new ICBM submarine platform, and they are pushing westward. That new oil refinery of theirs south of Bandar Abbas gives them an excuse to send protective warships into the Arabian Sea. And that new base in Burma has given them a home port from which they could essentially control the oil routes through the Malacca Strait. That’s all the oil routes to the west and north Pacific.”
Admiral Morgan paused again. And then he growled, “Gentlemen, these guys are not just stepping lightly on our toes. They’re running us over with a fleet of fucking rickshaws, and I’m not having it.”
Jack Smith and General Scannell both smiled, and Harcourt Travis laughed out loud. “Arnold,” he said, “you have such a way with words. You really should have considered the diplomatic service.”
Everyone in the room knew the suave Secretary of State was not entirely enamored of the President’s crusty National Security Adviser. And, some thought, the diplomat’s calm, thoughtful intellect was a very good foil for the irascible ex-nuclear submarine commander. But the Admiral’s mind was invariably superior, and he had won almost
