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Wednesday, 10 May
The White House
1115 local (GMT +5)

Wexler had always thought that the Oval Office was not conducive to frank discussion. It had seen too many ceremonies and was drenched in the polite compromises signed with smiles on faces that represented final victories after dirty knife fights. Everyone had seen it too many times on television, it was too much a part of their national heritage for words such as she must speak to be palatable here.

Yet she must speak frankly, brutally even. The president had to understand that the consequences of his decision affected more than just the next election, more than his perception of the impression that they were creating with their allies. Lives were at stake here, not just in this conflict, but in the potential for bloodshed in every conflict yet to come. By ceding command of his troops — America’s troops — to a foreign commander, he was setting a precedent that would echo down through history.

History — perhaps that was the way to approach him, for President Williams had a clear and overriding concern about carving out his own spot in it. If she could just put it in the right words, he’d know how very dangerous this game was.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. President,” she began quietly.

He chuckled and patted her hand. “There’s a Girl Scout troop from Boise cooling their collective heels in the waiting room, Sarah, so don’t flatter yourself that I’ve cleared my calendar.”

“Maybe you should.”

He paused, taken aback by the serious note in her voice, as she’d intended. Their relationship had been for so many years one of mutual respect and friendship that she wondered if they occasionally let it distract them from the very real trust imposed on them by the American people.

How easy it is to forget that, she mused, watching her friend and her president switch gears. But if we ever truly forget it, then we’re no better than the people we fought so hard to defeat.

“Serious talk, I take it,” he said finally just as the silence was becoming uncomfortable. “Okay, shoot.”

“Mr. President, you’re aware of the pilots that were shot down over Macedonia yesterday, I assume?” she began.

He nodded. “I’ve got other advisors besides you, Sarah,” he said, gently but with sufficient force to make his point. Other advisors who would have other points of view on whatever she was proposing to discuss. Other advisors he’d consult, so she’d best not count on a quick and easy concession on anything.

Alright, if that’s how we need to play it. And we do, I suppose. Because this isn’t about either one of us personally — although I’m hoping to make it seem that way to you. It’s about the country. And you’re right to seek other opinions, my friend. Because I’m not the one who’s going to be judging you — history will be.

“I’d like to give you the perspective on how this chain of command question is playing itself out on the international side of things,” she said, making it clear that she understood the message he’d sent.

“That’s your job. Go ahead.”

She began with a discussion of T’ing, quickly sketched in the background, and then brought up T’ing’s veiled warnings. “I’m not sure what it means, Mr. President. But it means something. I thought you might know.”

Bingo. She saw a fleeting trace of guilty knowledge on his face, and was aware that she probably could not completely mask her own expression from him.

“Not that I’m asking what you might know,” she clarified, careful to back away from a confrontation. “There are probably some considerations I’m not aware of.”

And again. Whatever it was, she could see in his eyes that he’d debated telling her about it, maybe sought counsel from his other advisors, and decided against it. Now he was second-guessing himself, wondering if it had been a mistake.

It had been. Of that she was completely certain. And why would he not tell her? They had enough history together that there should be no question of her trustworthiness, of her loyalty to his administration.

Bad advice from somebody. But who? And why?

No matter. She wouldn’t get any answers by pressing the point now, even though the urgency beat inside her like a drum. No, all she had to do right now was make the point, put the idea of history into motion in his head, and let time do its work.

If they had any time at all.

The president stood, indicating the meeting was over. He held out his hand and said, “Thank you for your advice. I’d like you to talk to Defense and make sure they know about the Chinese ambassador’s warning…if that’s what it was.”

Her heart sank at that. She had never been more certain of anything than she was of this — T’ing had warned her. And that the president was not taking it seriously.

“Using aircraft alone was a mistake,” he said finally, his face now completely controlled. “Next time, we go in the way we were trained to fight, with an all-platform attack. Ships, bombers, satellite intelligence, the whole nine yards.” He gazed at her levelly. “The problem this time was that we weren’t committed. To correct that, I’m placing additional resources at the UN force’s disposal. They’ll constitute the heart of UNFORGREECE.”

“Under UN command,” she said.

He nodded. “This is the way of the future, Sarah. And you and I are going to forge the way.”

Or bury the dead. She gazed at him hopelessly.

FIFTEEN

Thursday, 11 May
Tavista Air Base
Tavista, Greece
0900 local (GMT –2)

Tombstone skimmed quickly through the preliminaries in the message, running his finger down the margin as he read the standard words of most OPORDS. Timing, targets… important, but not his major concern.

There it was. His finger paused over the offending paragraph. Command relationships—damn.

He looked up into Arkady’s genial face and scowled. “Just what is this second strike supposed to accomplish?” he said quietly.

“What the first did not. To cut the throat of the Macedonian command and control forces. Had your pilots done as they were ordered, this second strike would not be necessary,” Arkady said in the same tone of voice, his words intended for Tombstone alone.

Arkady turned away to face the rest of the assembled forces. In addition to the pilot commanders from previous briefings, the commanding officers and their weapons officers from the two cruisers were there. “My staff — the UNFORGREECE staff — will discuss with you the details of your particular roles in the next twenty-four hours. As you can see from your packages, this will be the single decisive blow against the rebel forces. I am pleased to welcome you to UNFORGREECE and look forward to working with you.”

Arkady nodded in the direction of Admiral Magruder. Looking at him, Tombstone could never have guessed that just days earlier Arkady had been agitating to have Tombstone removed from the theater of operations.

Why did he change his mind? Tombstone thought that if he could find the answer to that one question, he’d know the answers to the rest of them.

Arkady was speaking now, his voice warm and congenial. “As you can see, we have a wealth of talent here to advise us on the best use of UN forces. However, I also direct your attention to paragraph four. All mission decision will be made by UNFORGREECE in order to deconflict disposition of forces. Any questions regarding that provision should be addressed to my staff immediately.”