'Fine.'
'Right. Are you proposing we come straight out and say publicly we do not approve of this in any way? And Argentina must retreat behind her lawful borders?'
'I think we come straight out and say it. But not publicly. I think we send a private communique to the President of Argentina. It must be signed by your good self, saying exactly that, and citing it as the formal opinion of the Pentagon chiefs. Because that's gonna wake 'em up for sure.'
'Okay, Arnie. So they either don't answer or they tell us to mind our own business. What then?'
'Well, I guess we have to be prepared to give them an ultimatum…'
'Like what? Nuke Buenos Aires? Because I got a feeling that's what it's likely to take to get 'em to change their minds.'
'So have I. And no, not that. No nukes.'
'Well, what?'
'I know this is not traditionally my instinct, but how about we do something subtle, something that will leave them scared and uncertain.'
'You mean like some Mafia don, some sinister threat…the kind of thing gangsters pull?'
'Yes.'
'You mean tell 'em we'll knock down the Presidential Palace if they don't give us back our oil and gas?'
'Not quite. But how about we tell them we are proposing to make it our business to have them vacate the Falkland Islands. And if they have not begun to evacuate by next week, they will surely feel the hot breath of Uncle Sam breathing down their necks. But we will tell them nothing.'
'Okay. Then what?'
'We do nothing publicly. We say nothing to anyone. But we very quietly move our Special Forces into the area. And we have the Navy SEALs link up with the British SAS, and we begin to exact a very serious revenge.'
'Like what?'
'Well, the Argentinians have a reasonable Navy, don't they? How about we sink a few warships, and maybe knock out a few aircraft. The Special Forces could do that without any trouble. And we admit to nothing. The Argentines may guess we're at the bottom of it, but they'll never know for sure. And they'll never find a way to prove anything.'
'Arnie, you think we could inflict so much damage on their military they'd throw up their hands?'
'They might. But in any event, they'd never admit to their people what was happening to them. And we could certainly make it impossible for them to retain their army of occupation in the Falkland Islands. We could make it possible for the remnants of the Royal Navy to retake the territory, and in return to hand over the oil and gas to ExxonMobil and BP. And we sure as hell could throw the Argentinians out of South Georgia.'
'I do see the merit of it all, Arnie. But do you think we could really keep the whole thing secret?'
'We'd need two things to help us. We'd want the total cooperation and support of Admiral John Bergstrom, who's in the final six months of his command as head of SPECWARCOM. And we'd need some silent support from Chile, as the Brits had in 1982. That would make a huge difference. Give us a forward base, way down there in South America.'
'Do you see a lot of people dying?'
'Not really, Mr. President. I see a lot of very expensive equipment getting trashed. And I see a very angry Argentina demanding to know what's going on. And I see us saying we know nothing about it. It must be the Brits, and that's just their tough luck. Shouldn't have taken their islands in the first place.'
'And how, great genius of my life, do you see it all ending?'
'Mr. President, we make the Brits hand over the Falkland Islands to Argentina, peacefully over a period of two years. With cooperation and a certain amount of chivalry.
'We make Argentina thrilled to get the hell out of this highly destructive row they're having with us, or at least with someone. And we make the Brits delighted to get out of the goddamned islands, and somehow save face. That way everyone's happy, or at least happier.
'Of course, part of our price is the restoration of the oil and gas to their rightful owners, ExxonMobil and BP. But we make the Argentinians signatories on the contract for fifty years, and then cut them in for a decent royalty, which begins twenty-four months from restoration. That way we've got the oil companies off your back, Argentina has a piece of the pie, and everyone can go back to work.'
'The weakest part of the equation, Arnie, is the Brits, who basically get little from it.'
'True. But they get oil money for two years. And compared to the very obvious mess they're in right now, that will be fine. And they will quietly claim ultimate victory, in what the press will call the Secret War. Which will suit us very well.
'And British Petroleum will have its oil and gas back. We'll probably throw in a few further sweeteners that Argentina will have to agree to. But they'll agree to anything, just so long as they can see the time two years from now when the Islas Malvinas formally become a sovereign territory of Argentina…without endless grief from us and the United Nations.'
'Very neat, but I'm going to throw one final monkey wrench into the works before we send for John Bergstrom. What about Russia? What about that damned submarine that you think whacked the
'Russia will slink quietly away if Argentina does not end up owning the oil free and clear. You can trust me on that. It's what they came for.'
'And the goddamned nuclear submarine?'
'Well, Mr. President. Since no one ever announces the loss of a nuclear ship that has hit the bottom of a vast, open ocean two miles deep…I actually thought we might sink that.'
The President came about as close as he had ever done to shooting a hot jet of Lapsang Souchong down his nose. He groped for his handkerchief, and looked up with a conspiratorial grin.
'Why, yes, Arnie. What a remarkably good idea. That was a very wicked thing it did, killing a thousand men. I think there should be a price for that. Do we tell the Brits?'
'Absolutely not. We tell no one. Ever. And if anyone inquires, we deny it. Just so long as the comrades suspect we know and disapprove of their goddamned antics. 'Specially that lying sonofabitch who runs their Navy.'
Like most of the Western world's newspapers, the British press has few, if any, morals. As in the USA, all of their newspapers and almost all of their television channels are thoroughly commercial operations, unconcerned with the public or national good, only with the sale of their product. And, generally speaking, the best way to take care of that is to frighten the living daylights out of the population whenever possible. Fear sells, right?
The only operation in the British media that is not, formally, a profit-seeking corporation is the BBC. But that is a fat, government-funded monolith stuffed with executives and journalists earning absurd salaries for what they really are, and running up mighty annual expense accounts.
Between them they represent an even more self-interested commercially minded block than those outside the Corporation, and like all government employees they don't have the problem of their parent operation losing money.
When a big story breaks, the BBC often leads the way and cheerfully wades into the fray, embarrassing the government, humiliating the nation, or the military, as it thinks fit.
The day the Falkland Islands fell, Britain's media collectively went bananas. Headlines unknown for decades leapt into the minds of the editors. Words like
And through it all, the press smelled an even bigger story — had the fleet put to sea inadequately armed, because of government cuts to the armed services?
The top brass of the Ministry of Defense and indeed the Army and Navy were of course sworn to silence. But an issue as topical as this could scarcely be held in check. It seemed that all through that early evening in England, every retired officer in either service was quite prepared to bring up the matter of the retired Harrier FA2 fighter
