“Don’t be ridiculous, sir,” Balboa said, his voice showing the slightest hint of irritation toward his commander in chief. “We’re all on the same side. True, the Lincoln was ready to conduct their counterattacks, destroy the Iranian bomber bases, sink the Iranian carrier, and rescue those CIA operatives long before the stealth guys got on the scene. True, we were cut out of the game unfairly and unnecessarily. But I’m not going to prefer the Navy over any other service just because I wear a Navy uniform.” Eyes turned away from Balboa at that instant, and the reply “Bullshit” came to many of their minds. “But this Taiwan operation is totally different. The Navy is in a much better position to assist Taiwan than these… things the general wants to send in.”
“We need to make our involvement deniable and perfectly black,” Freeman said, “or we risk starting a war on the high seas in the entire region. That’s the advantage of using the aircraft we suggest.”
“Does the Joint Chiefs have a problem using Air Force assets in the Pacific? ” the President asked.
“Sir, I apologize if I sounded too… argumentative to General Freeman, and of course CINCPAC will use any and all assets available in his theater if needed, including the Air Force,” Admiral Balboa responded, saying the words as if they were part of a well-rehearsed boilerplate speech — very little sincerity in those words at all. “But I think we’ve already seen the harmful result of using renegade, secretive units in military operations. The B-2 bomber operation the general put together against Iran could have been a complete disaster and a major embarrassment for the United States.”
“Instead, it was a major victory and completely stopped all further aggression,” Freeman said. “We proved that.”
“All you proved, General Freeman, was that terrorism works,” Balboa said acidly.
“What in hell did you say, Balboa?” Jerrod Hale exploded. Hale was a tall, very large man in his early fifties, a former Los Angeles district attorney who, as the Martindale for President campaign director, had engineered Martindale’s stunning comeback from a defeated, divorced former vice president to a powerful, awe-inspiring, and rather fearsome President of the United States. More than almost any other person in Washington besides the President, Hale commanded a lot of power because he controlled access to the man in the White House — and Hale was not shy about wielding the forces under his control. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? General Freeman is an advisor to the President of the United States. You’re right on the verge of getting yourself shit-canned!”
The President’s eyes narrowed and his lips tightened, but he raised a hand to silence Hale. “All right, Admiral,” he said, carefully controlling his surprised anger, “it’s obvious you’ve got something to say, so say it. It sounded like you’re accusing me of terrorism. Did I hear you correctly?”
“With all due respect, Mr. President — yes, I believe the B-2 bomber attacks were tantamount to acts of terrorism,” Balboa said. “Under advisement from General Freeman, you ordered a stealth bomber to over-fly China and bomb Iran without warning. In my book, in anyones book, that’s terrorism, and it ought to be eliminated in this administration.” He paused for a few breaths, then added, “The Chiefs recommend that this latest operation, this Megafortress support mission, be canceled and more conventional means be used to support Taiwan’s naval forces. What in hell is this thing? You call it a modified B-52, but it’s sure as hell not like any B-52 I’ve ever seen! Where is it now, Mr. President? I want to see it and give my evaluation.”
“Excuse me, Admiral,” Chief of Staff Hale interjected, much more forcibly than before, “but the President will issue his instructions to you, not the other way around. If you have any further questions, submit them to me and I’ll see that he gets them.”
Although Hale towered over the Navy four-star, Balboa wasn’t going to be intimidated by a civilian staffer, even if he was the chief of staff and, arguably, the second-most-powerful man in Washington. His gaze encompassed McLanahan and Masters as well as Freeman as he said, “I think it might be better if you dismissed your civilian staffers, sir, so we could discuss this operation.”
Hale’s eyes blazed, and even the old veteran sailor Balboa took notice. “That’s it, Balboa!”
The President tried to defuse the tension by grasping Balboa’s arm as they headed for the door. “Look, gents, I’ve got a function to attend, and if I’m late, the press will have me for breakfast,” the President said. “Admiral, I’m going with the Megafortresses. I’m augmenting the sub fleet and keeping the frigates on patrol, but I don’t want the carriers in the Formosa Strait right now.”
“But, sir, the Chiefs—”
“Admiral, there’s a time for shooting, a time for gunboat diplomacy, and a time for negotiations. We made the decision to keep the carriers out of the Strait during China’s Reunification Day celebrations, and I think it was a good decision even though China now seems to be taking advantage of it. I agree, we’re on the back side of the power curve now, and if China makes a move against Taiwan, there won’t be a hell of a lot we can do. As you recall, Admiral, one reason to keep the carriers out of the Strait was because of our concern that China might use nuclear or subatomic weapons against Taiwan, and I think that fear is all but a certainty now.
“But I think we’ve got a new option: we use our technological advantage and make our enemies think we’re right on their ass ready to blow their shit away,” the President went on. “The ability to make the Iranians or the North Koreans or even the Chinese think that we can freely, effortlessly fly an armed warplane right over their damned heads without them knowing about it is an awesome capability, powerful enough to stop a war dead in its tracks, and I want to take maximum advantage of it.”
“Yes, sir, I understand,” Balboa said in a low voice, not masking the intense disappointment in his face, “but at least change the pecking order a little. We’ve got civilian spooks — intelligence agents, mercenaries, defense contractors, I’m not even sure exactly what to call them! — flying Air Force planes asking for Navy support. It’s too confusing. Even the Air Force hates this plan. At least put the flyboys under CINCPAC, Admiral Bill Allen at Pacific Command. He’s got to be informed of any military assets entering his operational theater anyway, sir — let’s use him and his staff at Pearl to keep track of things. If things go to hell, he’ll see it coming and can jump in immediately to contain the damage. All the chiefs will sign on in support for this mission, if you make this change.”
The President thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that idea, Admiral.” He turned over his shoulder and said to Freeman, “Phil, brief CINCPAC on the ROC support mission, and turn operational control over to him. Include Admiral Allen on progress updates and video conferences. Draft up the execution order and have it ready for me to sign in one hour. ”
The President paused and turned toward Freeman and Balboa. “Make no mistake, gents, I am getting a lot of heat for flying that B-2 over Asia, so the press has parked themselves at the front gate of every bomber base in the country counting to make sure they’re all there. I’ve been presented with a new option, a plane that’s not on the books and can’t be counted, so I’m taking it. I expect full support from all of the service chiefs.