“Hell, Doc, we flew spy planes across each other’s borders for decades,” Sparks said. “It was so commonplace, it became a game.”
“And we’re on the path to returning to the Cold War mentality that existed back then,” Carson retorted. “Sir, if we continue to allow General McLanahan and his spaceplanes to just flit across the planet like that without advising anyone, sooner or later someone’s going to mistake it for an intercontinental ballistic missile and fire a real missile. Overflying Russia with a satellite in a mostly fixed and predictable orbit is one thing — having an armed spaceplane suddenly appear on a Russian radar screen out of nowhere could trigger a hostile response. A simple courtesy message on the ‘hotline’ to Moscow or even to the Russian embassy in Washington would be sufficient.”
“Frankly, Mary, I don’t feel very courteous when it comes to the Russians,” the President said.
“I mean, sir, that a simple advisory might prevent an international diplomatic row, a retaliatory overflight, or at worse someone getting nervous and pushing the button to start another attack.”
“Okay, Mary, I get the message,” the President said. He turned to the Secretary of Defense: “Joe, get together with Mary and draft up a directive for General McLanahan and anyone else using the spaceplanes to notify the State Department to issue an advisory to the Russian foreign ministry in a timely manner. That should be sufficiently ambiguous to allow us some leeway in when to report.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Gardner glanced at Carson’s exasperated expression but did not comment.
He could always count on Mary Carson to bring up all the negatives about each and every situation crossing his desk, Martindale thought — her comments always served to head off possible difficulties, even though he generally thought she pressed the panic button too often and too soon to suit him. “It’s not the Russians I’m concerned about right now, folks — it’s the Iranians,” the President said. “Gerald, what do you have?”
“Not much yet, sir,” Director of Central Intelligence Gerald Vista responded. “No one has heard from any of the clerics or most of the executive branch of the Iranian government for days.”
“My office has been trying repeatedly to get a statement from the Iranian U.N. ambassador, but he’s nowhere to be found,” Secretary of State Carson added, “and some of the NATO foreign ministries who still have diplomatic ties with Iran tell us the Iranian ambassadors and consuls have dropped out of sight.”
“Sounds like they’re lying low,” the President observed. “But is Buzhazi the reason, and if he’s powerful enough to scare government officials as far way as New York City, does he have a chance of succeeding in engineering a military coup?” He turned to Joint Chiefs chairman Glenbrook. “What about the Iranian army, General?”
“The latest we have is the regular armed forces are still in their garrisons, sir,” Glenbrook said. “We don’t know if they’re just staying in defensive positions, awaiting orders, or defying orders and not going out to hunt down Buzhazi and his insurgents. A few specialized units have mobilized — we think those units will try an assault on the Khomeini Library in Qom within forty-eight hours.”
“This has been a Pasdaran fight so far,” Vista said. “We haven’t seen any regular army involved. Maybe the Pasdaran has been weakened to the point where they can’t do the job.”
“Is it possible that we haven’t heard from the clerics or the president of Iran that were apparently in Qom…because they’re dead?” Vice President Maureen Hershel asked. She turned to a video teleconference unit on the credenza beside her. “General McLanahan?”
“Unfortunately General Briggs didn’t ask that question when he met up with General Buzhazi at the Khomeini Library in Qom, ma’am,” Patrick McLanahan said from the command center at Elliott Air Force Base in Nevada. Instead of a business suit and tie, he was wearing his trademark Dreamland black flight suit, a wireless earpiece stuck in his left ear, surrounded by his battle staff officers. He hadn’t officially taken over the High Technology Aerospace Weapons Center yet, but he was clearly the man in charge. Maureen couldn’t help but smile. Patrick never looked comfortable wearing a business suit or attending meetings in the White House. He was back in his element, where he belonged. “General Briggs’s objective was to degrade the Pasdaran units surrounding the library and make contact with Buzhazi if possible, all without compromising his men or the Black Stallion spaceplane.”
“Is Buzhazi still in Qom?”
“It’s unclear, ma’am,” Patrick replied. “We should be getting a satellite image update soon. General Briggs estimated Buzhazi’s force inside the library at around a thousand men, well-equipped — apparently there was a large weapons cache inside the mosque and library. If they departed, it wouldn’t take them long.”
“You actually think Hesarak Buzhazi would slaughter a bunch of clerics and government officials inside one of the holiest sites in Iran?” the President asked incredulously.
“Back when he was chief of staff and commander of the Pasdaran, I’d say ‘never’—five thousand Americans on an aircraft carrier, yes, but a bunch of power-hungry Muslim clerics, never,” Maureen replied. “But the man was dumped, disgraced, nearly assassinated, and relegated to training half-crazy volunteer fighters. He went from leading the fight for the clerical regime to nothing almost overnight. If anyone’s got an axe to grind against the current regime, it’s him.”
“Let’s say he succeeds,” the President asked. “Would he be worse than the clerical regime, or would he work with us to help stabilize the region — and perhaps even assist the West in stopping the current tide of radical fundamentalist Islamists operating around the world?”
Maureen turned to the speakerphone and said, “The only two Americans who have spoken to him since his insurgency began are Generals Briggs and McLanahan. Patrick? What are your thoughts?”
“He swore up, down, and sideways that he was going to take down the theocracy or die trying, ma’am,” Patrick said. “My initial gut reaction is I don’t trust him, but everything he’s done so far points to one thing: his objective is the destruction of the Pasdaran and elimination of the theocracy. I don’t know if he wants to become the strong-armed dictator of Iran, but if he gets the support of the regular army he could certainly take over.”
“But what are the chances of that?”
“He’s a disgraced military chief of staff who was blamed for Iran’s greatest military defeat in history,” CIA director Vista said. “He tossed away a third of Iran’s navy in just a few days, including the Middle East’s first aircraft carrier. Not only that, but he was commander of the Pasdaran — he gave the orders that resulted in the executions of thousands of regular army soldiers, government officials, and ordinary citizens, usually on skimpy or no evidence whatsoever, on allegations they conspired against the clerical regime. The regular army would never follow him.”
“I disagree, Director Vista,” Patrick radioed. “Because he refused to be exiled — he was given a shit job that should have killed him and he excelled in it. He purged the Basij, the paramilitary group of volunteers, of all the radicals and fundamentalists, and he turned it into a real fighting force — and he did it with pure leadership, convincing the dedicated men and women in the Basij to get rid of the maniacs. He turned the organiation around without resorting to intimidation or violence. The grunts respect that. I think he has a very good reputation with the regular army. Combine all that with the regular army’s hatred of the Pasdaran, and I think Buzhazi is lining himself up very nicely for a coup d’état.”
“My information says otherwise,” Vista insisted. “Buzhazi is an outsider. Besides, the regulars are too afraid of the Pasdaran to support a rebellion, especially one without any other support besides a few thousand volunteers.”