more manpower. That stuff's heavy, and we may have to carry it partway through the fucking jungle. Can't escape that, since we don't have any transport on the ground.'
'OK, John. Talk to you soon.'
Just then Kathy pushed open the door and announced the arrival of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Scannell, and the CNO Admiral Dickson. George Morris was about five minutes behind them in company with Lieutenant Commander Ramshawe, who carried a heavy armload of papers and charts.
Harcourt Travis, whose office was located only about fifty yards away, was last to arrive, strolling into Arnold's office somewhat languidly, wondering how quickly the Great Man intended to declare war on someone and whether he was planning to allow the President of the United States of America in on the secret.
'Maybe,' rasped Arnold. 'Just maybe. Though I never met a civilian yet who didn't get in the goddamned way when the military were about to move fast.'
'I never get in the goddamned way,' said Harcourt, agreeably.
'You know better,' said Arnold. 'In the end, I might even have you commissioned. Lieutenant Harcourt. Little precious. But I kinda like it.'
The Secretary of State smiled. 'Seriously,' he said. 'We have to tell the Boss about this pretty soon.'
'It's not a problem,' said Admiral Morgan. 'He's been ranting on about inaction for the past three weeks. In a coupla hours he's gonna get action.'
'I imagine so,' said Harcourt. 'This does not look like the kind of group that wants to write a letter or order a Congressional Study.'
Admiral Morgan slammed his office door shut, retreated behind his desk, and then yelled through the solid oak barricade to the outside world, 'KATHY! COFFEE FOR SIX… HOT!'
'Wouldn't that have been a tad easier if you'd placed the order when the door was still open?' asked Harcourt, mildly.
'Possibly,' growled Arnold. 'But it woulda lacked urgency. Right there you were looking at the operational difference between a diplomat and an ex-U.S. Navy CO. You're trained to ease the pressure. I prefer to keep it on.'
'My sympathies, as ever, are with Saint Kathy,' replied Harcourt, smiling.
Everyone laughed at this somewhat elegant exchange between two considerable minds. It certainly took the edge off. Arnold told them to sit down anywhere, while he offered a few explanations.
'There are, obviously, several other people, political and military, who need debriefing,' he said. 'But right now I want the people in this room to be singing from the same hymn sheet. You will notice I included Lieutenant Commander Ramshawe, and that's because he's been tracking the situation for several months and knows more about it than anyone else.'
Everyone nodded, silently grateful for an apparent expert. The Admiral continued with the utmost brevity and care. 'As we all know, the United States has been under attack for several weeks. Somewhere along our Pacific coast, a Russian-built, but not necessarily Russian-manned, nuclear submarine has been firing missiles at our oil and power industrial installations.
'We never found 'em, couldn't stop 'em. And they knew precisely what they were doing. Gentlemen, we have been the victims of terrorism of the worst type since 9/11. Less death, but savage damage to our country.
'Yesterday we located the submarine. An old Sierra I, Barracuda Class, Type 945. And right now it's trapped in the Panama Canal. I believe they've dumped it. Switched off the nuclear reactor and let it bury itself somewhere in the Gatun Lake, through which the Canal runs, eighty-four feet above sea level, till it steps down again at the Pacific end.
'As you all know, the Panama Canal is currently under the stewardship of the Chinese. And they just closed it, presumably while they get rid of the evidence and help our enemies to escape.
'Naturally, we find that unacceptable, because they are aiding and abetting terrorists. And if you are not for us, you are against us. However, the bigger picture is much, much more important. And the really unacceptable part is that China actually controls the Canal, illegally in my view, thanks to the fifth-rate fucking antics of a fourth-rate, lying Central American country, aided by a U.S. President who kept his brains somewhere near the end of his pecker.'
'By all accounts that provided room for a considerable amount of brains,' interrupted Harcourt.
'None of 'em focused on the interests of this country and its global role,' growled Arnold. 'If China does this now, what else will they be capable of? This is the most dangerous situation we've had in our backyard since the Cuban Missile Crisis. Which brings us to the crux of the problem. We need to get the Chinese out of Panama, and to do that we'll have to throw 'em out. And for the sake of world opinion, we need a major reason to do so. We find that goddamned submarine, we have that reason.'
Again the five men in Arnold's West Wing office nodded in agreement.
'Gentlemen, I am proposing we smash the lock gates on the Atlantic side, which will drain Gatun Lake in short order, leaving our submarine exposed.'
The room went deadly silent.
'You mean bomb the locks, obliterate them?' asked General Scannell.
'No, General. I mean blow off the lakeward gates of the upper Gatun Locks, the entrance into the high chamber. The water will do the rest.'
'SEALs?'
'Precisely.'
'Well, it's feasible, I can tell you that. I made a study of the Canal at West Point, and I served in Panama in the 1989 invasion. Those top gates are critical. Knock them off, and it's all over.'
Arnold grinned, grimly. 'And I am quite sure, gentlemen, it has not escaped you, that when the Canal is effectively destroyed, the Chinese will have no further reason to remain. They will hear the thunder of Uncle Sam, bellowing, GET OUT OR ELSE. And they will likely vamoose of their own accord. In any event, we'll land a fighting force and clear the damn place out, both ends.'
'What about the Panamanian Government?' asked Har-court.
'You mean before or after they change their pants?' asked Arnold.
'After,' said Harcourt, urbanely.
'We'll tell them we are reclaiming the Canal we built because they have proved hopeless, treacherous custodians whose stupidity and disloyalty — maybe both — nearly caused a world war. We'll tell 'em we intend to rebuild the Gatun Locks, immediately, and to restore world order to the path between the oceans.'
'Who's paying?' asked Harcourt.
'We are. They're penniless. But we will assume total control of the entire Canal Zone, the railroad, and all the territories that bound the waterway. That includes the dockyards. The towns at either end will essentially come under our control.'
'You mean we're going in there like Genghis Khan?' said General Scannell. 'Like conquerors?'
'Oh, no,' said Admiral Morgan. 'Panama needs the money from that canal, and right now they have nothing. We are the only guys who can rebuild it. And for that, we will require all revenues for five years, sixty percent thereafter. Panama can have the rest.'
'Neat,' said Alan Dickson. 'Very neat, indeed. Two priceless Naval Bases, priceless dockyards, total control of the Canal. And a damned kick in the ass for the Chinese. We just killed about two hundred birds with one stone.'
'One lock gate,' said Arnold.
''Two, actually,' said Jimmy Ramshawe. 'We need to blow two. They close folded, like a flattened V.'
'Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,' said General Scannell. 'Very informative.'
'Any time, Chief,' replied the junior officer in the room, grinning his lopsided Aussie grin.
Right now, there was that sort of mood in the lair of the National Security Adviser. No dissent. Everyone deeply grateful for the clarity of Admiral Morgan's discourse, his motives and conclusions, and the obvious merit of his plan.
'Do we intend this to be a public attack, with the entire world knowing who did what to whom?' asked Admiral Morris.
'Absolutely not,' said Arnold. 'It's dead secret. We admit nothing, and we rant on and on about the criminally negligent way the Panamanians and the Chinese have handled the upkeep and engineering inspections on
