Air Battle Force

He chuckled with a distinct air of superiority. “Thought I’d better ask. Equality for women should extend to things like fine cigars, should it not?”

“It has nothing to do with equality — just taste,” she responded.

He shrugged, uncertain of what she meant by that, and put the second cigar back in his pocket. He withdrew a silver lighter and was about to touch the flame to his cigar when he stopped in surprise — as Hershel pulled her own cigar from her inside breast pocket.

“But it’s not because I don’t like cigars. I just don’t like those cigars. I prefer Lars Tetens to Davidoffs.” She pulled her own clippers and lighter from her pocket. “The Tesshu Deluxe Robusto is my favorite. Made in New York. I was introduced to them by a German vice air marshal. You’d have thought he’d discovered the New World by how much he raved about them. They take some getting used to, but they are worth the effort.” The pungent aroma of the Lars Teten quickly, easily overpowered the Davidoff. Martindale couldn’t help but look on in amazement as the woman puffed away happily on the rich, strong cigar.

“I hope you’re having a pleasant trip out here to the West Coast, Miss Hershel.”

“Fine, thank you, Mr. President.”

“Kevin. Please. Thorn is ‘Mr. President’ now.”

“Thank you, Kevin. And I’m Maureen.”

Martindale nodded. “I thank you for meeting with me.”

“Not at all.” She eased back in her chair, then surprised him again by casually throwing the elbow of her left arm onto the chair back and propping her head on her left thumb, with the cigar between the forefinger and middle finger of the same hand.

“I wanted to discuss a very important matter confronting the United States, Maureen.”

“The situation in Turkmenistan.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You know, of course, about the invasion by those Taliban fighters.”

“Yes.” She turned away from him to take another deep draw from the cigar, and she did not look back at him as she released the smoke from her lips. “The fighters seem to be growing in strength and taking new territory almost at will. I’d say the situation is extremely fluid.”

“ ‘Fluid’? Miss Hershel, the situation is critical out there!” Martindale retorted. “The Taliban insurgents now control three-quarters of the American-built oil and gas pipelines in Turkmenistan!”

“They control three-quarters of the pipelines in the eastern half of the country, approximately eight thousand linear miles, plus eight distribution facilities, sixteen pumping facilities, and two power-production facilities,” Hershel said, still looking away from Martindale, reeling off the information as if she were reading it in the clouds of cigar smoke swirling around her head. “They control all of product distribution to Uzbekistan and Pakistan and about half of the distribution to Iran, Afghanistan, and Kazakhstan.”

“It’s a serious development, Maureen.” Martindale slapped his Davidoff into an ashtray on the table next to him with an angry jab; he couldn’t taste it anyway over the overpowering scent of the Lars Teten. “Many folks around the world consider this conflict to be President Thorn’s first major foreign emergency test, one that directly affects American business interests. I’m impressed that you have such a command of the data, Maureen, but what I’d like to know is, what exactly does the president intend to do about it?”

Hershel finally turned toward her guest, undocking her head from her thumb but staying back in her chair. “The president has made his views clear, Mr. Martindale,” she said. “The Turkmen government hasn’t asked the United States for help.” Martindale was about to speak, but Hershel quickly said, “We know about the Taliban and their moves on the oil and hydroelectric facilities. Even so, the president does not feel that this insurgency is a threat to any vital national interests—”

“Not a threat!” Martindale retorted. “If this doesn’t qualify as a threat, I’m not sure what would.”

“The insurgents haven’t taken anything,” Hershel said calmly. “TransCal is paying the leader of that Taliban group to leave the pipelines alone and functioning — protection money — and that’s exactly what they’re doing. Product is flowing; TransCal is still making money. In fact, with the current spike in oil prices with no corresponding decrease in production, I would say TransCal is enjoying some substantial windfall profits. Their stock has gone up by seventeen percent in the past month, if I’m not mistaken — although why their dividend predictions have gone down so drastically is still a mystery. Less than a dollar a share in dividends from a company making record profits and hasn’t paid below a dollar a share in almost ten years?”

“I would guess that they’re preserving capital to keep their business afloat if those pipelines are destroyed.”

Maureen said nothing, just studied Martindale over her cigar and nodded noncommittally, wondering if he’d gotten that information directly from the horse’s mouth. TransCal may have already spoken to Martindale about supporting his run for the presidency in exchange for his promising more protection for their overseas ventures.

“The point, Maureen, is that our government should be doing more to protect the interests of Americans overseas, including business interests,” Martindale said. “We shouldn’t have to pay ‘protection money’—we should be doing whatever is necessary to ensure that foreign governments and businesses live up to their contracts and promises.”

“Mr. Martindale,” Hershel said, letting the pungent smoke stream out of her mouth slowly and seductively, “the president feels, and I agree, that if we tried to enter this conflict with military might, the insurgents would destroy the pipelines, just as the Iraqis did as they were forced to withdraw from Kuwait.” She put down the cigar after taking another long draw. “But in any case, even if the United States was able to wipe out all the insurgents without causing any damage to the pipelines, what then? The Turkmen government is obviously not strong enough to protect the pipelines. If another group of Taliban came in, we’d be faced with the same dilemma. Do you suggest the United States set up a permanent presence in Turkmenistan to protect the pipelines?”

“If that’s what it takes, yes!”

“Mr. President… Kevin, you should realize that’s not possible,” Hershel said calmly. The more wound up Martindale got, the calmer and more introspective Maureen made herself. “The United States is not in the business of providing mercenary services for the benefit of private companies.”

“No one is asking the United States to supply mercenaries,” Martindale argued. “The United States should use its military power and influence to restrain other outside powers from disrupting the business of the legitimate government. We had a deal with President Niyazov. TransCal spent almost eight billion dollars to build those pipelines and infrastructure—”

“Kurban Gurizev is in power now.”

“Gurizev is a Russian stooge,” Martindale said acidly. “He was against the TransCal deal right from the start. He wants to increase his own wealth and prestige by getting the Russians back into Turkmenistan so they’ll back him as president. Then TransCal will be forced to renegotiate the contract with the Turkmen government.”

“That sounds very likely,” Hershel said matter-of-factly.

Martindale stared wide-eyed at the deputy secretary of state. “I’m glad you find favor in my analysis,” he said sarcastically. “Does that sound fair to you, Maureen?”

“From TransCal’s point of view, I shouldn’t think so,” she replied. “From Gurizev’s perspective it sounds like a perfectly reasonable and rational idea.” She could see Martindale getting angrier by the second. “Kevin, I’m sure TransCal knew what they were getting into when they made this deal. I’m sure they knew that Turkmenistan was and still is a virtual dictatorship. TransCal knew about Gurizev and all his close ties to the Russian government, they knew that the Russians still extracted huge amounts of oil and gas from the country, and they knew that the Russian army still had a large presence there. They knew the risk — as did your government, sir. Yet you met with President Niyazov and brokered this deal for TransCal.”

Hershel’s staff had definitely done their homework before this meeting. He wondered if Maureen Hershel had even touched cigars until this meeting was set up.

“Why isn’t the CIA keeping you better informed on what’s happening out there?” he asked, hoping to change the subject quickly.

“We have assets everywhere, as you know,” Hershel said, “but we can’t see everything. However, I’m sure TransCal was briefed and fully understood the risks when they signed the deal with President Niyazov.”

“Frankly, Maureen, we were able to sign a deal back then because my government made it very clear that it