Enemies

Is that what this is about? Hong Kong? Probably… and I’m afraid I don’t like what it is going to cost us this time.

She thought of Hong Kong as she had known it over the decades, an amazing, teaming center of financial activity and commerce in the midst of isolation and ethnic suspicion. It had survived because it must. That part of the world needed a Hong Kong in order to trade, as a buffer zone between their own isolationist cultures and the rest of the world. But since the Chinese takeover of administration of the area, the Chinese government had come to a startling realization: given enough money, enough power, and sufficient reason for action, the Chinese political ideology was as vulnerable to corruption as any of the Western governments. With the economic well-being of so many tied to the political maneuverings, it was no wonder that China was still smarting over the last U.S. intervention in the area.

“The only way, I believe, that the United States can demonstrate her complete commitment to this force is to place operational command of USS Jefferson in the hands of the UN commander. That, and that alone will prove her sincerity.” He said the words carefully, throwing down the challenge in dulcet tones.

I had not expected you to be so blunt. What do you know that I do not, what makes you so sure of yourself that you’d make this move in public? There’s something we’re missing — something that will get too many of our men and women killed if I don’t find out what it is.

Now speaking out loud, she said, “Of course, this is outside my range of expertise.” No one missed the sardonic expression on the Chinese ambassador’s face. “But I can consult with the president and determine his wishes. It is unlikely that we would be willing to do that unless every other nation committed to this effort did so as well.”

“Then I suggest an immediate poll of the other ambassadors,” he said. “Perhaps hearing how the rest of this world views the notion might have some impact on your president.”

Is that what it is? You already have your supporters lined up?

“It is certainly something to be discussed,” she said calmly. She turned to the current secretary general, the ambassador from Iceland. “In fact, it is so important a question that I suggest a special subcommittee be appointed to investigate.”

The secretary general, who’d been watching the entire play-by-play with no expression on his broad impassive face, said immediately, “Of course. An excellent idea. If the following members will agree to serve, they may consider the matter and advise us of their recommendations. Britain, Yemen, Ethiopia, and Singapore. Do the members consent?”

And what drives you? You’re usually on our side for one reason or another. I see the point to Britain and Yemen and Ethiopia as well — they’re all probably on our side. But Singapore? What is it that you know about them that I do not? Is that what the Chinese ambassador is worried about, something to do with Singapore? She glanced over at T’ing. His face was a carefully orchestrated mask of outrage. But the secretary general’s order required no vote from the membership.

“Do the members agree to serve?” the secretary general asked.

The British Ambassador rose. “Of course. We are honored to be a part of such an undertaking with such possible broad implications for both this august body and others in the world. This question of sovereignty, of cooperation between peoples to achieve world peace — it is a difficult matter. And this one central question often arises.”

And what did he mean by that, other bodies such as this? She stared at the British Ambassador for a moment, hoping to pick up some clue from his expression. He turned in her direction, offered a bland smile that revealed nothing, then turned back to his notes. Yemen and Ethiopia accepted in short order, as did Singapore, although apparently with some hesitation and confusion on the part of its ambassador.

“Well, then.” The secretary general had the expression of a man who should be rubbing his hands together vigorously, please with a difficult task well done. “Shall we table this matter until our subcommittee reports in?”

And there’s no telling how long that could take. Is that what he’s doing, simply kicking it over to the subcommittee to buy me some time? But then Singapore… what is it about Singapore?

No matter. This would bear investigating later, but for now she had achieved what she’d hoped for. Murmuring her thanks, she returned to her seat. At least for the moment, this particular crisis had been averted.

Tavista Air Base

Joint Forces maintenance facility

1200 local (GMT –3)

“What’s this?” Airman Smith asked. He stared at the shoulder patch and the oddly faded blue beret the chief had just handed him. “I brought my own gear. What color is this, anyway?”

The chief sighed. “Just take them, Smith. Sew the patch on your right shoulder, about where your crow would go if you put it on that side.” He stabbed a finger at a spot on Smith’s shoulder and dug into the muscle still sore from carrying tie down chains.

“I’m not wearing any stupid beret,” Trudeau announced.

“You guys would bitch if we assigned you to duty in a whorehouse,” the chief snapped. “You’re on a UN peacekeeping force, so you wear what they wear. Got it?” He turned away from them to the line of sailors queued up to receive their UN-issued gear.

Smith and Trudeau walked off slowly. Smith stared down at the blue felt beret in his hand. It wasn’t a color for a sailor accustomed to dreary khakis and whites, too bright for a real military uniform. He tried to imagine himself wearing it, glanced around at the rest of his troops to see what they looked like in it, and decided he didn’t like what he saw. No, he didn’t like it all — not one little bit.

“How are we supposed to sew these things on, anyway?” Trudeau grumbled. “Like I brought a sewing kit with me?”

“We go find the parariggers,” Smith said. “Just like always.” The division in charge of maintaining all the flight gear, including parachutes and ejection harnesses and cranials, was particularly adept at getting things sewed on. More than one junior sailor too broke to afford the prices the cleaners charged relied on their expertise.

“Okay, but where does the patch go?” Trudeau persisted. “Dungarees? Coveralls? Man, I hope it’s not the dress uniform. This will screw up the sleeve. I’ll have to buy a new set after we leave.”

Smith spotted a bunch of people walking by sporting the blue beret. A babble of foreign languages reached his ears, some vaguely familiar from high school classes and others completely beyond his understanding. Russian, maybe? That sounded like Chinese or something?

“So we wear the same uniform as the rest of those guys?” Smith said slowly. He shook his head, bothered in a way that he could not completely define. “I don’t know, Steve… doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. We’re here to take care of our birds, fly some missions. But we’re supposed to be on one unit?”

Trudeau shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I don’t know,” Smith repeated. He shoved the beret and patch into a pocket in his coveralls. “I don’t have time to do it now anyway. It’ll have to wait.”

Four hours before, the chief had come to them while they were hiding in the chain locker and told them they were on the team going ashore. “And it’s not like we have much time,” he had snapped. “So get your asses in gear and get turning. The COD leaves in two hours.”

“What do we take, chief?” Smith asked.

“Hell if I know,” the chief muttered, more to himself than in answer to the question. “You start sending birds ashore, and who the hell knows where we’ll wind up? Spare parts, lubricants, hydraulic fluid — and the one thing we’re going to need the most is whatever we forget to take.” He glanced over the two young airmen. “You don’t have to worry about that — the lieutenant says they got a spare parts depot ashore for their own Tomcats. Supposed to be interchangeable with everything on our birds.”

Smith and Trudeau exchanged a telling glance. They had heard that particular line before from the more senior sailors in the squadron, and knew that it never worked out the way it was supposed to. Now, staring at the throng of foreign military men, he was even less convinced that his bird would get the proper care while ashore.

“So what do you think all this is about?” Trudeau asked.