“Sir,” said Anna, “let me show you something.” She took out the computer-scroll in her purse and used the touch screen to bring up a tiny map of Eastern Siberia. She pointed out Ambarchik Base.
“These are satellite images,” she said. “Some of our very best.”
“What about verbal communication?”
Anna shook her head. “You know that Chinese electronics are much better than ours.”
“I won’t argue that. What do you think is going on?”
“First answer me this,” Anna said. “Why move ice-mobile units to the most northern edge of Siberia?”
“You think they’re doing it to threaten us?”
“Yes I do, by threatening a cross-polar attack.”
Dr. Blanco frowned. “You mean across the Arctic ice?”
“Exactly.”
“But that’s ludicrous. How many men could they send across? Five hundred? Eight hundred? It would be a logistical nightmare, and to what end?”
“The end would be in capturing the north slope of Alaska, where all our oil lies,” Anna said. “To say nothing about the oil rigs in the Arctic Ocean.”
“With eight hundred soldiers?” Dr. Blanco asked. “It would make more sense to airdrop Commando teams or send submarines to smash up through the ice in the Beaufort Sea and disgorge the eight hundred soldiers nearer the targets.”
“What if they could send a division or two across the polar ice?”
“What do you really think? Tell me.”
Anna looked Dr. Blanco in the eye. “I think the Chinese blew up our oil well. What their reasoning was, I don’t know, at least not yet. As preposterous as it seems, I think they’re threatening to grab the north slope of Alaska.”
“And in your opinion the President knows this?”
“President Clark wishes to appear internationally strong, but we both know he isn’t. He has shied away from even the slightest use of American power, except for security on the Mexican border. Therefore, I believe he is suppressing the news of the Chinese Commando so the pundits don’t whip up the voters for him to do something against China.”
“You’d better explain that a little more clearly.”
“Like you, sir, the President must believe that China would never send a military column across the ice to grab our oil.”
“Go on,” Dr. Blanco said.
“President Clark also doesn’t want to get into an oil rig-destroying match with China, so he’s trying to ignore what China did to Platform Seven.”
“You think our Navy should destroy Chinese offshore oil wells in retaliation?”
“If they’re destroying ours,” Anna said, “we must destroy theirs in order to stop them from destroying more of ours.”
Dr. Blanco thought about that. “I still find it hard to believe the Chinese sent that swimmer. The Chairman runs China’s foreign policy, or Deng makes the moves for him. You’ve made that abundantly clear. Other than trying to bring former lands back under Chinese control, neither has shown a willingness for risky international behavior. Maybe the President is suppressing the news to keep people calm.”
“I want to believe you’re right,” Anna said.
“I still don’t understand why you’ve told me all this.”
Anna searched his face. “I had to tell someone. You seemed like the logical person.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Franklin Roosevelt didn’t do anything to alert Pearl Harbor, and the Japanese destroyed our battleships,” Anna said. “You don’t believe the Chinese will attack across the ice, and the President doesn’t believe it. But what if the Chinese are really planning to do just that? Our military needs to know.”
“What if in alerting our military, we escalate the situation?” Dr. Blanco asked.
“How can we do that by preparing our defenses?”
“Hmmm,” he said, glancing at the videoed angelfish. “If you feel that strongly, go to the President or go to your superior. Maybe this is the reason you are in your position. The President needs wise counsel. Now is your chance to give it to him.”
“But if they’re trying to cover all this up….”
“Anna, one of the most interesting things I learned in my study of government and history is that more people have physical courage than moral courage. If war is coming, I think you should attempt to stop it. In other words, be morally courageous and do the right thing.”
She had been afraid Dr. Blanco would say that.
Could the Chairman truly be practicing what he would normally consider adventurism? What had prompted such a thing? Could the rice riots over there be larger and more threatening than she realized? China had enjoyed massive growth through the decades. But most of the new wealth had been generated along the Chinese coastal regions. Inland where the bulk of the people lived, it was often like the old days. Five hundred million Chinese lived well. That left over a billion and a half angry people. Did China have enough food?
“You have talked to me,” Dr. Blanco said. “Now what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet. I need more data.”
“Then I suggest you keep working, my dear. Find out what is going on.”
That was good advice, and she planned to do just that.
-6-
Last Moves
“Get up,” the former master sergeant said, the man Murphy had hurled the shot glass at.
Paul Kavanagh removed the arm slung over his eyes. He lay on a couch in the base rec room, with two Blacksand guards in parkas staring at him from the foot of the couch. He’d heard them come in, but had ignored their presence. Each wore a fur-lined hood and ski mask. Paul could see their eyes and mouths, and that each slung a rifle over his left shoulder. They looked like Arctic bank robbers or kidnappers, making him feel even more like a prisoner.
“Did you hear me?” asked the master sergeant.
“Yeah,” Paul said, “I heard you.”
“Then get up! John Red Cloud wants to talk to you.”
Paul swung his legs off the couch, putting his feet on the carpeted floor. The otherwise empty room had a billiards table, some TVs with Xboxes attached and a ping-pong table. Outside, the wind blew against the lone window, a tiny, reinforced thing.
“If you want to stay working at the rig,” said the master sergeant, “you’d better hurry up.”
Paul Kavanagh wanted the job. He needed it and couldn’t afford to screw up yet another time. He’d talked with Cheri once since coming here, and she wasn’t doing as well with her hairstyling as she’d hoped. She and Mikey needed cash for rent. The car had taken more than she’d expected to fix, and he needed to send them money if he didn’t want his ex-wife and kid on the streets.
The problem was Paul had left the shed with Murphy in Dead Horse. John Red Cloud had wanted to leave both him and Murphy there, but he wanted trouble with the law even less.
Red Cloud was the boss of the Blacksand team at the Arctic oil rig and had been waiting at Dead Horse for their arrival. The entire situation had gotten even worse for Paul. Red Cloud wasn’t just any Indian, no, not a chance. It was Paul’s luck that Red Cloud was Algonquian. When he’d first heard that, Paul Kavanagh had known what it meant. Algonquian was a northern Indian tribe. It was also one of the two language groups spoken by northern Indians. The other language group was Athabaskan. The only Native American group north of the Algonquians was Inuit or Eskimo. Eskimo was an Algonquian word. It meant raw meat eater. The Algonquians had coined the name before the coming of the Europeans. It had been meant as an insult to the Inuit, as the Algonquians cooked their meat.
Paul had known all this because America had once lent Canada some Marine battalions. He’d fought separatist French-Canadians for the Canadian government. And just as they had done in the colonial days when many native people had fought with the French, many Quebec-based tribes had sided with the separatists. That had been particularly important in the Canadian Shield area where Paul had done the majority of his service. Red Cloud was Algonquian. He had fought for the French-Canadian separatists. Worse for Paul, Red Cloud had witnessed Marines shooting several of his fellow warriors in the woods. After the mini-Canadian civil war, Red Cloud had been driven out of Canada because of his war-record. The Canadian government had granted amnesty to the French-Canadian separatists, but not to the Algonquian warriors who had claimed tribal independence from all sides. Fleeing Canada, Red Cloud had found refuge with Blacksand. Given his northern upbringing and training, Red Cloud made an ideal mercenary for the Arctic oil rigs.