really must get back home. The hour grows late.”
The ambassador spoke to his driver, and the car turned and headed back toward her townhouse.
“Later than any of us think,” he murmured. They rode in silence for the rest of the way.
ELEVEN
Brad intercepted Wexler in the passageway outside her office. She took one look at his face, then followed him down the hallway, waiting until he judged they were in a secure position. Then he turned back to her. “Hemingway’s back.”
“More bugs?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Naval operations. JIC is in an uproar. It’s like a feeding frenzy. There’s still no hard evidence, but all the area experts are saying it’s about to come down to a confrontation.”
“When will the carrier be in the area?” she asked.
“Another two weeks. According to Hemingway, they’re setting a new speed record for transiting the Pacific.”
“Not soon enough, I suppose?”
“No. Hemingway needs to talk to you… but under the circumstances…” He stopped, knowing she understood what he meant.
“I suppose it’s time,” she said heavily. She felt obligations and bindings descending on her at the thought of what she was about to do. But really, there was no other choice, was there? Her own spaces were demonstrably not completely secure. Hemingway had insisted that there were no further listening devices, but Wexler could not shake the uneasy feeling that she was never completely alone in her office.
She pulled her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Okay. I’ll do it. When?”
Brad seem slightly surprised and uneasy over the situation. “Hemingway can take you right over, if you want. I’d like to go along.”
“What for?”
“I might as well hear about it at the same time, right?”
She stared at him, trying to understand what he was thinking. Did he think she wouldn’t tell him everything she heard at JCS? Or did he have other reasons of his own?
Suddenly, an insight. “Is there a turf war between the CIA and naval intelligence on this?” she asked, suddenly certain she was right. “The CIA doesn’t have a source there, do they? They want you to take a look at things, figure out what’s being withheld and get everyone singing off the same page.”
She could see him consider denying it, and then he sighed. “I don’t know exactly. Ever since the big summit that you and the president and the CIA had, I feel like I’m out of the loop. And this agreement — well, they don’t trust me as much as they used to. Divided loyalties, you know.”
Now that was ironic, coming from him. It was T’ing who had warned her about Brad and told her of her aide’s CIA connection himself.
She pointed a stern finger at him. “I will be leaving the office, accompanying Captain Hemingway, in precisely twenty minutes. Within that time, I expect to have a telephone call from the CIA requesting that you be allowed to accompany me and explaining their reasons for the request. Without that, not only do you not go, I will not tell you what happened when I get back.”
TWELVE
For two weeks,
But if that were the reason, why the missile test in the first place? Why stir things up, looking like you were going to take advantage of the lack of air power, and then stand down? Had they simply been impressed with
Since the carrier was now within unrefueled flying range, an exchange of liaison officers was proposed. Taiwan Central Command provided an army officer, Major Ho, to serve as a representative onboard the USS
In return, the American carrier detached a lieutenant commander by the name of Charlie Goforth as their liaison. Goforth was a
The exchange of pleasantries ashore had been abruptly cut short by a call from
As soon as Captain Chang saw the radar contacts appear on the surface plot, he knew there was trouble. Whether
The task force itself was worrisome enough. Every major combatant from the Gungzho military base was underway, formed up in a tight pattern, and headed their way. Four cruisers, two destroyers, and three amphibious landing ships crammed with troops — no, this was not an exercise or standard workups.
Two hours after he was underway, Chang flew over to the cruiser for additional briefings. As his old Sea Sprite helicopter hovered over the deck, then settled gently, guided by the American flight deck crew, he mentally assessed the condition of the ship. It was well cared for, that was true, but no more so than his own small frigate. Remarkably, the Americans seem oblivious to the marvels around them. The
He was quietly pleased with the competence that his Sea Sprite pilot showed settling onto the deck, and nodded politely to the pilot, who understood immediately what was being conveyed. They had put on a good show
