Faulcon frowned. “After the loss of a battle group? I don’t think so.”
She said soberly, “You might be surprised, General.”
“Not in our party,” Szerenci drawled. His lifted eyebrows intimated volumes. “In yours, perhaps?”
She shrugged. “The source doesn’t matter. But whatever strategy we adopt, we have to keep this war contained. Above all, keep it from escalating.”
“No. What matters is victory,” the national security adviser observed.
“There can’t be a victor in a nuclear war,” Blair shot back.
“I’ll settle for not being the loser,” Szerenci said calmly.
They were staring each other down when the press secretary lifted a finger. “Corey,” Blair said, only reluctantly unlocking her gaze from that of the small man at the head of the table.
“Uh, we’re here debating ultimate strategy, while the immediate question should probably be our response to Zhang’s recent offer of terms. Is there wiggle room? Space for a deal?”
She said briskly, “An excellent question. This could become a long conflict, with huge risks along the way. How might we achieve peace short of mutual exhaustion, like World War I? It’s worth asking.”
Faulcon squinted. “Where do you stand on his offer, Blair?”
She shrugged. “That’s easy. I stand for prosecution of the war. Not surrender, which is what Zhang’s proposing. But not nuclear Armageddon, either.”
Szerenci closed his eyes. For that moment, the facade of confidence cracked, revealing the fatigue. When he opened them again, the groove between his eyes remained. “CIA says that even without the sub-based leg, they have megatons targeted on every one of our major cities. Our antimissile batteries can take out maybe a tenth. We’ll obliterate them if they attack us. But they can still destroy us, as a country.
“We could have stamped out this threat without any danger ten years ago. Even five. As I and a few others pointed out then. With minimal collateral damage.” He spread his hands like a magician at the reveal. “Now, somehow, I’ve got to pull a rabbit out of the hat. Find a way to destroy them, without us suffering millions of dead.”
“If we’d followed your advice then, we’d have been destroyed too,” she couldn’t help pointing out. “Zhang had missiles in reserve.”
“There are still those who think they’re fictional.”
She inclined her head at the intel officer. “Is there hard data yet?”
He looked away. Shuffled papers. “Um, we… we’re still arguing that.”
Szerenci said, “Zhang’s a master bluffer. If you mean to suggest I’m some kind of Doctor Strangelove, the way I’m portrayed in the mainstream press… I simply rid myself of illusion, my dear Blair. I try to see the world as it is, and act accordingly.”
She said evenly, “I judge you by what you say, Edward.”
They regarded each other for a second more. Then she passed out a summary of her briefing. “In accordance with the Dawn Gold protocol, you will not find this on your classified e-mail servers. Paper only. Lock and key. Make no copies. Do not refer to our discussion on cell, landline, e-mail, or other electronic communications. Assume all conversations in public areas are being overheard.”
Outside, in the corridor, it was hard not to sag into the wall. Her hip flamed. Her back ached. She needed coffee. Could there be coffee here? And three or four Aleves?
Beside her Randall Faulcon cleared his throat. The major general said, “We need to get you out to Camp Smith, Ms. Titus. I want you to brief our J3 shop. We’ve got to start thinking long term, like you’re doing.”
“Any time, General. But I understand, you have to put out the fires.”
“Am I mistaken, or is your husband Daniel Lenson?”
“That’s correct.”
“We met in Hawaii. Congratulations on his promotion.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated. “Do you happen… I haven’t heard from him for some days now.”
Was that a puzzled glance? “You mean, where he is…? Probably, getting his task force ready to sail.”
She wanted to ask for details, but stifled the urge. “Thank you. I’m sure he’s very busy.” She turned away, and almost collided with Szerenci, just behind her. His bodyguards waited down the hall, regarding her with impassive expressions.
“Edward,” she muttered unwillingly.
“A word.” He led her into an alcove. “I understand the election didn’t turn out well.”
She forced a tight smile. “It’s in recount. We’re going to win.”
“Well, I certainly hope so. But what happens if you don’t?”
“I’m not following.” She folded her arms, frowning. Szerenci wasn’t just from the opposing party; they were on the opposite sides of other divides as well. The way he calculated trade-offs in terms of megadeaths made her suspect he didn’t actually identify with human beings at all. Years ago, she understood, he’d been Dan’s professor in his postgraduate work. Now and then Szerenci had offered him a helping hand. But her own relationship with him had been that of competing pro boxers.
Though Szerenci was the headliner, while she was far down on the event card.
He murmured, “Do you read Doris Kearns Goodwin?”
“The historian? Sometimes. Why?”
“Team of Rivals?”
“Abe Lincoln, right?” she said warily. Where was he going with this? God, she’d kill for a latte right now. Grande. With peppermint.
“I’ll refresh your memory. Lincoln knew the nation faced the greatest test in its history. Instead of forming a cabinet of mediocrities, he asked his most capable rivals to join him.”
She muttered impatiently, “And?”
“The president’s thinking about forming a national administration. As Lincoln did. And Roosevelt, in World War II. To unite the country. I think you’d be a good addition to our team.”
She glanced down the corridor. But through her astonishment, remembered to maintain a poker face. “How about Madam Clayton? You could invite her back—”
“Never. Can’t have two national security advisers in the West Wing. Anyway, I like the way you think. We’ve butted heads, but I respect your brainpower.”
She sucked air, but maintained a bored expression. What would it do to her dynamic within her party, how would it alter her relationships with peers and backers? “It’s… unorthodox, Edward. But as you say, these aren’t normal times.”
“Think about it. But don’t take too long.”
“I’ll have to, of course. But, as I said—”
“I know, you’re in recount. You’re going to win. But just in case you don’t.”
“And if I was to consider it, I wouldn’t work for you. Perhaps with you, but—”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. But events are moving. History’s moving. We have to get ahead of it.” A glance around, a crimped smile, and a nod to the two temple dogs hulking down the hall.
He moved off, and she looked after him, eyes narrowed. Then sighed, and went to gather her things.
II
THE HUNT
6
The bells echoed out, resounding through the hangar bay. The ship’s gray-painted steel sides towered eighty feet into the air. On the wharf engines clattered, cranes snorted, lines of men and women ant-marched boxes out of tractor-trailers. An arched gangway led to a side port. A canvas banner read USS HORNET. A HERITAGE OF EXCELLENCE.