John R. Monteith
Rogue Defender
CHAPTER 1
East Asia burned, and Admiral John Brody felt the world crushing him.
“I can save Taiwan,” he said.
A dark pinstripe suit rose and extended thick ebony fingers onto the table. Secretary of Defense Gerald Rickets responded with authority.
“You need your resources elsewhere,” Rickets said. “Taiwan stands alone.”
“The president agrees?” Brody asked.
“Yes.”
“China launches electromagnetic pulse attacks, North Korea crosses the DMZ, and God knows who has sunk five warships on both sides, but you’re restricting my response.”
“Taiwan doesn’t count,” Rickets said.
“American submarine sailors died defending them five years ago, and now they don’t count?”
Brody sighed as Rickets straightened his jacket.
“I’m taking fifteen minutes,” Rickets said. “When I get back, I want to review sorties over Seoul and Patriot missile positioning.”
The other Joint Chiefs turned to aides for updates, but Brody followed Rickets into the hallway, the soles of his mirror-polished shoes clapping tiles like hooves digging dirt. He tugged stuffy navy blue wool from his neck, his starched uniform serving as the flank strap Rickets had cinched around his chest. Bracing to buck his rider, Brody flared his nostrils and lowered his horns.
“What the hell was that?” he asked.
“Doing my job,” Rickets said.
“You know I can knock China back ten years and keep our naval supremacy,” Brody said, “But you’re doing what? Playing politics?”
“Why would the Chief of Naval Operations mention politics during a military crisis? Did you hear a certain powerful senator mention that the next Republican presidential candidate would be a black leader with a background in national defense?”
“Yeah,” Brody said. “The whole nation did. So what?”
“Flexing the Navy’s muscle by hitting China hard would put you in the lead for the position.”
“Keeping the Joint Chiefs in check behind a delicate diplomatic response would favor you,” Brody said.
Rickets’ tone became soft.
“I don’t want to yield to China any more than you do, but it would cost too many American lives to undo what’s been done, just to protect an island.”
“Taiwan is a vital cog in world commerce and a de facto ally. For the sake of the free world, I’ve got to do something.”
“Follow me to my office.”
“Why?”
“I’m introducing you to someone.”
“Who?” Brody asked.
“The guy who’s doing something for the free world.”
Brody sank into a leather armchair and watched a face appear on a screen. A silver-haired man in a gray blazer looked back with eyes of blue steel framed by crow’s feet. A gold-plated lighter sparked flint into flame under a cigarette.
Rickets spoke from a chair beside Brody.
“I thought you quit,” Rickets said.
“I did,” the man said.
Brody found the man’s French accent misplaced before a Taiwanese flag in the Keelung naval command center.
“Is that a Marlboro?”
“I am permitting myself the luxury during the stress of the campaign.”
“How is the stress level?” Rickets asked.
“Thick when I arrived, but optimism is taking root. The Taiwanese are my best clients for a good reason.”
“Who is this guy?” Brody asked.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man said. “My name is Pierre Renard. You almost killed me a decade ago when you sank the USS Colorado. I commend your successful career and rise in rank to the Chief of Naval Operations.”
“You know about the Colorado Incident?” Brody asked.
“I am the Colorado Incident.”
Curiosity melted Brody’s agitation.
“You stole nuclear warheads for Taiwan, but failed,” Brody said. “And now they and Secretary Rickets trust you?”
“Since the Colorado Incident, I’ve proven myself quite reliable. I helped Secretary Rickets defeat the renegade Pakistani Agosta submarine off Hawaii and reacquire the hijacked Israeli Dolphin submarine.”
Brody glanced at Rickets, who nodded.
“And I rid the Taiwanese of Chinese Kilo submarines during the blockade five years ago,” Renard said. “I’m sure you remember the outcome.”
“I do,” Brody said. “So, what makes you think you’ll keep up your track record? China has boots on the ground this time.”
“The Taiwanese are prepared,” Renard said. “I foresaw this distasteful scenario you see unfolding across East Asia and advised them appropriately.”
“I don’t care who you are or what you planned,” Brody said. “They’re outgunned.”
Renard exhaled smoke.
“I fought beside Admiral Ye five years ago, and he accepts my advice. For this he will be rewarded. He has prepared his arsenal, and I will consult him to victory through restricted tactical nuclear warfare.”
Brody glared at Rickets.
“You’re allowing this?”
“Hear him out, admiral.”
“The subject is broached, admiral,” Renard said. “The terrorist electromagnetic pulse attack over the United States three years ago employed a nuclear weapon. Restricted nuclear hostility is in play on the world stage.”
“And China all but pulled the trigger for the North Koreans to copy the pulse attack maneuver over Seoul,” Brody said. “I get it. That doesn’t allow escalation to tactical nukes.”
“Restricted to naval warfare, the smallest of warhead yields, miles from the shoreline. It will be permissible.”
Brody wanted to doubt Renard but couldn’t convince himself the Frenchman was wrong.
“Let’s say Admiral Ye uses restricted nukes at sea. How long will his arsenal last?”
“I’m not at liberty to speculate,” Renard said.
“Not to me as your audience,” Brody said. “But you’ll at least tell me where you plan to use the nukes.”
“Of course. I’ve already sent Secretary Rickets an advanced copy of the international announcement that the Taiwanese Minister of Foreign Affairs will soon release.”
Brody turned to Rickets.
“This is wrong,” he said. “If you let me handle this now, we won’t need nukes.”
“The decision is made,” Rickets said.
“I’ll risk the Seventh Fleet on Taiwan now, but not if you let it escalate. Anything Taiwan dishes out, tactical nukes or not, China can and will hit back harder.”
“The decision is made, admiral.”
“Are we done here?” Brody asked.
He pulled himself forward on his chair but froze with the Frenchman’s voice.
“Have you made contact with Jake yet?” Renard asked.
“Who?” Brody asked.
“Jake Slate is alive,” Rickets said.
The periscope-framed image of Jake Slate escaping the Colorado on a life raft flashed in Brody’s mind, but he had been unsure if his friend had survived.
“Bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t lie about this,” Rickets said.
“You’ve known since the Colorado Incident?”
“I’ve kept his existence a secret to protect him.”
“You couldn’t trust me with that knowledge?”
“You had no need to know.”
“Damn you.”
“You need to know that Jake is involved now,” Rickets said, “so you know that you can trust Renard.”
Brody looked to the monitor.
“I’ve selected him to command an important submarine,” Renard said. “The first of the indigenous Hai Ming class, based upon the French Scorpène design.”