“I’m sure it’s all part of their naval exercise.”
“Sir,” Anna said, “what is the President afraid of?”
Colin Green whirled around. His famous intensity radiated from him. He was known for his outbursts and, during them, his foul language. “What are you talking about, young lady? What have you heard?”
“The Chinese attacked our oil well off of California,” Anna said. “They did it to sabotage the Secretary of State’s talks in Sydney.”
“Where did you hear that?” Green said, and his eyes flashed. He seemed ready to hit her.
It frightened Anna, but this was too important for her to back down now. She forced herself to say, “Deng Fong didn’t deliver the Tea Ceremony speech in Tiananmen Square a day ago. Jian Hong did, in the company of the Chairman.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Green asked.
“Yes,” Anna said. “It’s a powerful political indicator. You and I both know that Deng Fong wishes for peaceful relations with us. What does Jian Hong desire?”
“Attacking America is madness,” declared Green. He glanced around, and he seemed surprised to find himself in the hall. He scowled, and he shook his head, as if struggling to suppress his emotions. “The President has told me this many times over the last few days.” Green studied her, searching for something.
It compelled Anna to say, “I only want to do what’s best for America, sir.”
“Your idea of a Chinese attack on the Californian oil rig is ludicrous.”
“I know about the White Tiger Commando they found in the water, sir.”
His mouth dropped open, and he swore before saying, “I don’t know how you learned about that. You’re going to tell me how, but right now that doesn’t matter.” He swore again, shaking his head. “Listen to me. The Chinese assault on the oil rig is highly classified information.” He stopped speaking as his eyes roved up and down her body and lingered on her breasts.
It made Anna nauseous.
Green took several steps nearer. “Listen to me, Ms. Chen. It is very important you understand what I’m about to say. President Clark wants peace more than any man on the planet. Too often, nations have conflicted with each other for petty reasons. There were many in the Pentagon who wished to invade Mexico during their recent civil war. Wisely, President Clark kept us out of that.”
“I’m aware of that, sir. It was one of the reasons I voted for him.
Green didn’t seem to hear her as he kept talking. “China is a young country.”
“Excuse me, sir, but China is old beyond measure—the oldest culture on the planet.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Ms. Chen.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to do so. But you must understand—”
Green lurched close and grabbed one of her wrists. His grip was strong. “Don’t ever interrupt me when I’m talking. Do you understand?”
Anna nodded, suddenly afraid. She’d heard strange stories about Colin Green, but had never believed them. The things he’d allegedly done as Senator of California to several visiting actresses—no one could be elected and do such things.
Green wore musky cologne and he had gin on his breath. “I’m telling you that China is a young country, the new great power. There are military men in China who would like nothing better than war with the United States. President Clark isn’t going to give them the provocation their military desires. The Chairman has told the President more than once that he wishes for universal peace.”
Anna summoned her courage to ask, “Then why did the Chairman invade Siberia and Taiwan?”
The grip tightened around her wrist, grinding bones together.
“You listen to me, you little witch. I won’t have people on my staff beating the war drums against China when the President has already made his decision. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Anna whispered.
“You are to immediately go home and lock yourself in your house. Stay there until I send a security team to guard you. If you fail to do this, young lady, there will be serious consequences. Do I make myself clear?” He tightened his grip so Anna squirmed.
“You’re hurting me, sir.”
“Yes, because I don’t want you hurting the President’s policies. Now do as I’ve said, Ms. Chen. Go.” He shoved her.
Anna stumbled and might have fallen, but she steadied herself against the wall.
National Security Advisor Colin Green straightened his tie and let his gaze rove over her body one more time. Then he nodded and headed down the hall.
Stan Higgins was in the officers club of Fort Richardson, which was an Army base just north of Anchorage. He didn’t feel like going home today and arguing with his wife again. She didn’t want him posting bail for his dad. He’d tried to get a loan at the bank….
Stan scowled as he sat at a table sipping beer. He appreciated Pastor Bill’s advice and his friend’s insights. According to Bill, Sergeant Jackson had been in the process of giving him a break with his dad. Bill had pointed out that Stan had threatened or practically threatened a police officer. Cops usually went ballistic if you did that. Jackson had held his cool and had even been willing to give his dad another chance. Maybe the police officer felt bad for what he’d done to his dad in jail.
“I doubt it,” Stan muttered to himself, sipping his beer.
“Professor.”
Stan looked up to see Brigadier General Hector Ramos standing there. The slender officer nodded. He had a beer and glanced at a chair.
“Be my guest,” said Stan.
Ramos sat down. He was the Brigadier General of the 1st Stryker Brigade, the “Arctic Wolves.” The Army and National Guard officers meet more often these days. With the Army’s shrinkage and the National Guard gaining tanks—Bradleys and other fighting vehicles—they needed to coordinate more.
Of Mexican descent and with a dark mustache, Hector Ramos was considered a controversial officer. Some of the higher brass in the Pentagon thought of him as a hotshot and a maverick. Others like Stan appreciated the general’s candor and quick intelligence.
“You looked troubled,” Ramos said.
“It shows, huh?”
Ramos shrugged and then suggested, “Let’s play a game of darts.”
A crooked grin crossed Stan’s face. The other officers knew of his love of games, and Ramos was just as fierce a competitor as Bill. Stan had thought before the two should meet, and he’d tried to get the general to come to church with him. Ramos had always declined, saying his interests were more scientific.
They took their beers and went into the other room. For the next fifteen minutes, they tossed darts at the round board. Stan had natural ability, and despite his preoccupation with his dad, he played well. The brigadier general had intense focus, and his muscles seemed perfectly wired to his brain. Hector Ramos won.
“Again?” the officer asked.
Stan shrugged.
Hector rubbed his chin. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Would your father like to come to the officers’ barbecue next week?”
Stan looked alarmed. “What have you heard?”
“Ah. So it is your father.”
Stan features fell.
Frowning, Ramos said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried. You just didn’t seem yourself and I was wondering….”
“You haven’t heard anything then?” Stan asked.
“No.”
“Then why did you just ask me that?”
“I had a premonition.”
Stan shook his head. Hector Ramos often amazed him. The man was uncanny. He wondered if General Lee of the Confederacy had been like that. Now there had been a tactical genius of the battlefield. The Army had made a mistake posting Ramos up here in Alaska. The only real potential war was on the Rio Grande, where they could use a man like Hector Ramos if things ever got hot.