the Canal locks. Within a dozen years of our leaving Panama, the entire thing caves in.'
'I suppose some people will guess what really happened,' said Admiral Morris.
'So they might. But they will prove nothing because we'll be in control. I suppose, sooner or later, the stupid media will work out the Eisenhower battle group was parked fifty miles off the Panamanian coast at the time of the lock disaster. But we'll be as mum as the goddamned Chinese would have been, if we did not find that submarine.'
Just then, Kathy O'Brien tapped lightly on the door and entered, gesturing a waiter to place the large coffee tray on the conference table. She carried with her an encrypted E-mail printout from SEAL Headquarters, Coronado, across the bay from San Diego.
Preliminary estimate TNT required take out lock gates— just less than one ton. We deploy detachment of thirty- six men, including command team of one Lieutenant Commander plus five officers. Each man to carry a thirty-kg high-explosive satchel into the operational area. TWO Sikorsky Sea Stallion helos, repeat two, required for insert from carrier. Four inflatables. One ton explosive, plus lines and detcord, one heavy machine gun, plus personal weapons and radios. Recce team of eight in tomorrow night (Sunday). Main force Monday night, utilize both helos. Ops time Monday forecast eight hours. Insert over Colon coast, tracking Chagres River. ETD San Diego-Pensacola 2100 tonight (Saturday). Bergstrom.
Admiral Morgan's heart jumped. It always did when the hardnosed, hard-edged SEAL Commanders went to work on a project. But for the moment he wished to say nothing of how far advanced his plans were. The plans he and Admiral Dickson had spent all night preparing.
As the SEALs loved the thoroughness of any operation involving the President's NSA and their own CNO, so Arnold Morgan loved the bullet-hard response he always got from John Bergstrom when his fighting men began to refine the broad brushstrokes of an essentially political objective.
Arnold handed the signal from Coronado to Admiral Dickson, who read carefully, scribbling notes in the margins as he did so. Then Admiral Morgan told the others to gather around the big table, where Lieutenant Commander Ramshawe would bring them right up to speed on the precise movements of the submarine and the area in which it was now believed to be.
Jimmy spread out a big chart of Panama, its coastal sea lanes, and the lake that encloses the Canal. He had marked times and positions all through yesterday, Friday, right until the moment the Barracuda slipped out of the sea-lane and seemed headed into the steaming rain-forest islands that look like patchwork around Gatun Lake.
He waited a few moments, until they were each absorbed in the detail, and then told them he was headed to the Oval Office where the President, the Defense Secretary Bob MacPherson, and 'one or two other time-serving politicos' awaited him.
Like his first meeting of the day, Arnold's second one did not take long. It ended after six minutes, when he pointed out to the Commander-in-Chief that it was political gold dust. It was a bold move, yes, but done in complete secrecy. They would get the Chinese out of Central America, find the submarine, and, more important, find who was responsible for the attacks. Then there was the fact that he alone, President John Clarke, would be remembered in history as the man who took back the Panama Canal, had it rebuilt, and placed it firmly under American control, denying no ship access in peacetime, just as the United States had always behaved in their long years of stewardship.
John Clarke loved it. And Arnold swept back into his office, stood aside, inside the door, and announced, grandly, 'Gentlemen, the President of the United States… '
Lieutenant Commander Ramshawe stood to attention and was greeted warmly by the Chief Executive, who addressed everyone in the room by their first names, thanking them for all they had done, and expressing his great confidence that the next couple of days would help sort out the very great problem that had been haunting the United States since the oil disaster in Alaska.
'You think the submarine's gonna yield all the information we need?' he asked.
'Maybe,' replied his National Security Adviser. 'We need to find out precisely who our enemy is. But in any event, I do think we have a political victory in that China, who may have helped them and then stood well back, did so at the cost of the Panama Canal, which made the operation not worth the price, certainly not financially, definitely not strategically, and perhaps even worse in terms of prestige. We will make them look like some Third World banana republic, which they hate worst of all.'
'I like it,' said the President. 'I like it a lot.'
'Only we know how badly we came out of the whole thing,' said Admiral Morgan. 'The damage to our West Coast oil and power industry was massive. They have caused us terrible pain and suffering and they proved we're damn nearly defenseless against attackers in a nuclear submarine. But that submarine gives us a sensational checkmate against the Chinese, and it will be a long time before anyone trusts them again.'
'Perfect,' replied the President. 'But, gentlemen, I hope you can reveal the identity of our real enemy, the little bastards who actually drove the damn thing and opened fire on us?'
'Sir, we have our theories. And, of course, we suspect the Middle East, as ever. And whether we find the culprits or not, that submarine will shed some serious light on the subject.'
'D'you think the Panamanians will be obstructive to our forces searching the lake for the ship?'
'Sir,' said the Admiral, all business now, 'when we ORDER them to take us to that submarine RIGHT NOW, they'll jump right out of their fucking ponchos with fright. I'll tell them we want total cooperation. NO ONE is even to touch that submarine until our inspection is complete, and that might take several weeks. The general obedience of the Panamanian Government and its rabble of an army will not be a concern in the face of U.S. authority.'
'Especially with the Chinese out of there,' said the President, smiling at the thought of it.
'Those little bastards will be gone by the end of the week,' said Admiral Morgan. 'Hightailing their asses back to Shanghai. For good.'
'Do you envision a precise sequence of events in the immediate aftermath of the collapse of the lock gates?' asked the President.
'Absolutely,' said the Admiral. 'The United States will announce, with a lot of outrage, that we are proceeding to the area to begin the work of repairing the Gatun Locks. We will inform the Chinese that an occupying force often thousand United States Marines is preparing to land in the Canal Zone and that all Chinese nationals living or working in the area will vacate the country immediately. We will advise the Chinese Government to assist with this evacuation, since any remaining Chinese nationals will be incarcerated indefinitely until the Canal is repaired. They'll protest. We'll ignore them.
'At the same time, we will dispatch gunships to circle the Presidential Palace, while a force of one thousand Marines, plus tanks, arrives at the main gates with the Treaty, which will hand the entire Panama Canal Zone back to the United States.'
'How about the Panamanian President doesn't want to sign it?'
'Don't worry. He'll sign. First time. Fast.'
'And we'll be doing it all in the name of the world's free passage through one of its most important seaways?'
'Correct, sir. Plainly, the Panamanians and the Chinese can no longer be trusted to undertake such a responsibility. And by that time, they'll be about a hundred tankers turning south for the joys of Cape Horn, a seven-thousand-mile journey in front of them. The entire world will be up and cheering us on.'
'I like it,' said President Clarke, using his favorite expression of approval. He was relieved that something good might come out of this nightmare. 'I like it a lot.'
'Sir, I will require you to sign this document giving formal permission for Operation Goodwill to begin. Just authorizing the military to, er, observe the lock gates for a few days… and then to proceed to Panama to restore the Canal Zone to United States control, if our engineers deem it necessary.'
'Do I need to ask Congress?'
'We're at war, sir. Just pop the old John Hancock right here on the dotted line.'
President Clarke felt supremely safe with top Naval and Military people, either serving or nonserving. Guys who knew the real score, and made the least mistakes.
'Certainly, Arnie,' he said. 'Glad to.'
