Brody’s mind raced with the alien viewpoints of politics. He grasped that the truth he respected as a military warrior would end upon his retirement from uniformed life.
Part of him wanted to tell the senator to shut up and find a better presidential candidate, but he knew that accomplishment in the public sector required the management of perspectives. Whoever won the ticket would do so through the manipulation of facts to craft an image, and it may as well be him.
The bovine beast within him envisioned Rickets within range of his horns. Before attacking, he needed to know if his adversary had become a fallen rodeo cowboy, or if he had transformed himself into a skilled matador.
“How’s Rickets’ camp going to proceed?” he asked.
“He’s going to claim that this campaign was a matter of diplomacy, minimizing the risk to American lives and sparing the world economy through his support of Taiwan. He wants Americans to believe that he can protect them by empowering our allies to defend themselves.”
Brody shifted the phone to his other ear.
“Well, shit, Tom,” he said. “That’s what he did.”
“But he couldn’t have done it without the U.S. Navy, or at least its presence and threat of intervention.”
“Actually, I hate to say it,” Brody said, “but he got most of it done without me. I hardly mattered.”
“That’s your opinion admiral, but it’s just one in a chorus. The truth is that you’ve got a carrier strike group within flight operations range of Taiwan.”
“Yeah, and I just sent another one. You’ll probably read about it in the papers tomorrow. So what?”
“Rumors are spreading that there’s not a Chinese submarine remaining in the ocean that can stop you. China needs to hear you bragging about it to give the Secretary of State leverage for negotiating a ceasefire, and America needs to hear you bragging about it to believe in its leadership.”
Brody bit back the shame that he had needed Rickets and Renard to spare him from a trap and create his opportunities for him. He questioned if Rickets were the better man.
“For God’s sake, Tom,” Brody said, “If you knew how bad I really screwed this up, you’d be talking to someone else right now. I got lucky, and I owe most of my good fortune to Secretary Rickets.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“I serve America.”
“Not for much longer if you don’t start fighting for your public image. You have to decide right now if you want to become the next president or if you want to fade away as a footnote in the greatest naval campaign in modern times.”
“I can’t sacrifice my integrity,” Brody said.
“You don’t have to. Just take credit for having done your job. Leadership isn’t about having the brightest idea. It’s about marshaling the forces at your disposal to create the vision that has to be created. It doesn’t matter if you ran into snags. It doesn’t matter if you got lucky. And it doesn’t matter if Rickets helped you. You are the Chief of Naval Operations, and you succeeded.”
In his mind, Brody replayed the video tapes of Chinese detainees from the Romeo submarine that he had seen hours earlier in Rickets’ office.
“You know there’s more leverage to this than just a carrier strike group, right?” he asked. “We have enough political firepower to reduce China’s military presence in Taiwan to a foxhole.”
“I think I know what you’re talking about, but better to leave it unspoken. But if you’re talking about what I think you are, and if it gets declassified soon enough, the first person between you and Rickets to claim credit for it will earn the edge.”
Brody pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to stop time. His inner voice tormented him with fears, doubts and second thoughts, but decided to take the first baby step in his presidential campaign.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m in. What do you need me to do?”
“Attend a press conference. I’ll call it, and I’ll have a speech written for you. There will be members of the cabinet present who’ve already chosen you over Rickets, and they’ll do most of the talking. You just need to be ready.”
“Is anyone ever ready for a transition like this?”
“No, admiral, they are not. Which is exactly why I think you’re the man for the job.”
CHAPTER 36
Through the passenger window, Jake watched the faces of pedestrians on the Taipei sidewalk. The Cadillac’s reflection in a bank’s window reminded him of the economic value he had protected. The determination in the face of a suited man marching into that bank reminded of the resilience he had inspired.
“They look scared,” he said.
“At least they’re out in strength again,” Renard said. “Two weeks ago, there were perhaps thirty, forty percent fewer people who felt safe enough to be outdoors.”
The XTS accelerated through a stoplight, carrying Jake toward Chiang Kai-shek International Airport. He had declined military transportation home to experience the benefits of his efforts in Taiwan, and he requested taking a scenic route through the downtown area for the impression to take full effect.
He also desired extra time with Renard, who agreed to employ public transportation for his return to France.
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
“Anything, my friend,” Renard said.
“When I was back in the states, I never went home.”
“Then Linda must be impatient to see you. And you her, I imagine.”
“Right, but that’s not what I meant,” Jake said. “I needed to tell you that I visited al-Salem.”
“Dear God, man! Why?”
“I really don’t know. Looking back, I didn’t have a good reason. I just needed to talk to him.”
Renard squirmed, wrinkling his blazer’s sleeve as he shook his palms at Jake.
“You come to me when you’re not sure who to talk to. I love you like a son and will always look out for you. If you don’t go to me, you go to your wife, or you go to your brother. You don’t go to pond scum that came within inches of flinging the United States into eternal chaos.”
“I don’t think I’m that much different than him,” Jake said. “In fact, I’m afraid I’m more like him than I know.”
“You need a psychologist, and I’m not being facetious. I find your perspective disturbing.”
“Shit, Pierre. I was so angry when you found me that I would’ve done what al-Salem set out to do, only ten times worse. You can’t know what’s wrong in my head until you’ve been in it. And you can’t get there. I wouldn’t do that to you. There’s still shit disturbed in there. Deep.”
“My point exactly, about the psychological help. Friends and family can only do so much for you without you exhausting them.”
Jake wondered if Renard had a valid point.
“You sound like you know firsthand.”
“I do,” Renard said. “After the drunk driver killed my first family, it was all I could do to avoid taking my own life. It takes a strong man to admit his weakness. I turned to professional help and am glad I did.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Please do.”
“But he was right.”
“Al-Salem?” Renard asked.
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“That I was being selfish. That helped me see that I needed to call you, you know. He helped me see that.”
Renard sighed.
“Even a broken mechanical wristwatch is right twice a day,” he said. “Don’t read too much into it. Stick with your commitment to consider professional counsel.”
“Linda thinks I need a relationship with God.”
Jake eyed the Frenchman with his peripheral vision, scanning for a reaction. Renard remained unresponsive for a moment that dragged to the point of discomfort. When his friend broke the silence, he seemed more distant than Jake had remembered seeing him.