“Understood.” A big buildup in Britain and then a D-day-like invasion across the English Channel were out of the question in the face of atomic weapons. Jeffrey realized his new orders demanded the utmost from him tactically, with serious strategic consequences depending on whether he won or lost against the German SSGN. Part of him groaned inside, knowing how relentlessly taxed his body and mind would be in the impending confrontation. His skills at thinking on his feet, and at keeping his crew focused and levelheaded amid deafening chaos and grinding uncertainty, would be tested to the ultimate limit.
“Good,” the president said. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this so seriously. It’s a very serious business.”
The president took the pen and drew a question mark on South America. “Another danger area. Instability and risk.” He drew a dotted line from Brazil and Argentina up toward the mid-Atlantic. “Notice where all the lines intersect.”
“Right in the Atlantic Narrows,” Jeffrey said.
“Yup. The narrowest part of the whole Atlantic Ocean, where the northeast tip of Brazil juts out toward the westernmost tip of North Africa. A nautical choke point, one that’s going to become a tactical nuclear maelstrom soon.”
“If the Axis can gain control of that part of Brazil,” Jeffrey said, “and given what they hold in western Africa, they’d be able to cut the Atlantic Ocean in half around that choke point. Subsonic cruise missiles launched from the opposing coasts could overlap their reach, hit any surface ships or planes that try to move north or south.” Cruise-missile design always traded off range against speed, Jeffrey knew. Tactical Tomahawks, which went about as fast as a Boeing 747, had a range of nearly 1,500 miles; the North Atlantic was more than twice that wide. The von Scheer’s Mach 2.5 Modified Shipwrecks, in contrast, ran out of fuel after 500 miles; the South Atlantic was up to ten times that far across.
“I’m sure that’s exactly the Axis objective, Captain…. There are many levels to what’s going on here, wheels within wheels. We still don’t know quite what the Germans are up to in Latin America, but we strongly suspect their agents and moles and sympathizers are behind Brazil and Argentina being on the verge of open hostilities. It is definitely in the interest of the Axis Powers for fighting to break out in South America. It costs the Berlin-Boer nasties little, and costs the Allied cause a great deal.”
“Everything’s happening at once.”
“The masterminds of the Axis are too good at moving countries around like chess pieces. They’re also very good at seizing the initiative and forcing us to react defensively. One thing I learned as a West Point plebe is that if you keep losing the initiative and can’t regain it, you lose the war.”
Jeffrey studied the map, with all its Xs and question marks and intersecting lines, for a very long time.
The president cleared his throat. “You’ll be filled in more on your specific role by your direct superiors shortly. I wanted to give you the overall picture myself. So I could see your face, know who you are as a person. I’ll feel a lot better, understanding what sort of man is captain of USS Challenger. I’m a big believer in personal relationships. A politician has to be. As a former military man, I’m a believer in knowing my key subordinates well. Your place in all this will be very key, and your ship is no ordinary submarine.”
The president looked at the map, and for a moment his face was haggard and drawn. His eyes looked pained and sad, as if he was thinking of all the death and destruction to come in the next few days and weeks. The body count in this war was terrible already.
Then the president set his jaw and his eyes cleared and grew harder. Jeffrey sensed the meeting was wrapping up. The president came closer. Jeffrey stood.
“I see now why you’re such an effective commanding officer, Captain. You’re a very direct guy. You zero in on your mission, period. You don’t look over your shoulder when it’s your job to lead the charge…. When we win this war, ourcountry is going to need good men and women to pick up the pieces and help the world rebuild. If I’m reelected this November, and can steward the country into a thriving new peacetime somehow, there are going to be all sorts of important jobs to be filled here in Washington, inside and outside the military.”
Jeffrey thought of that map again, the intersecting lines in the Atlantic Narrows. The impending clash of forces might determine the whole outcome of the war. Things might get so hot that atomic weapons would start to be used without restraint on land. The war, up to this point such a volatile trade-off between immensity of hitting power and compulsion for survival, could escalate in the days to come into a fearsome doomsday scenario.
“I have to ask you again, Mr. President. Exactly what is it you want from me?”
“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”
“Please don’t be so cryptic, sir.”
The president pointed at the easel map. “Just get out there, and win another resounding victory, and come home alive.”
CHAPTER 4
When Jeffrey left the president, the crowd at the reception was just thinning out. Boy, if they only knew what I know now. Every nerve in his body felt electrified.
Jeffrey tried to act as calmly as he could, to maintain the air of decorum befitting a Medal of Honor winner, and to protect the secrecy of what he’d just learned. There were nosy reporters everywhere, and the country was entering a heightened state of national emergency — triggered by the sailing of the von Scheer and the relief convoy. Jeffrey expected to be rushed back to New London, Connecticut, any moment, to rejoin Challenger in her home port and then get under way. He decided to stop in a men’s room while he could.
As he unzipped his fly he heard a loudspeaker announcement: “NBC drill. This is a drill. Lockdown is in effect until further notice.”
NBC stood for nuclear-biological-chemical. The drill meant the staff and building engineers were rushing through standardized measures to make the hotel airtight. The ventilation system was stopped and the rooftop intake and outlet vents were shuttered automatically. All public and service entrances and exits were also sealed.
Such drills were a common aspect of life on the U.S. East Coast these days, in major structures from office towers to hospitals to schools. The threat-detection hardware and communications gear, and the procedures and the practice drills, went back several years, to the wave of increased homeland protection forced upon the country by the War on Terror. All this was coming in very handy now: Jeffrey knew radioactive dust, from the battles that raged out at sea, sometimes reached the coast in local hot spots that could be dangerous. Civil defense was no joke. There were stiff fines for people leaving home without their gas-mask satchels. National Guard units were on call 24/7 in all jurisdictions, outfitted with mobile decontamination equipment; the National Weather Service tracked the movement of winds from the Atlantic carefully, with a network of sampling stations to check for radioactivity every minute. And government price controls went well beyond enforcing prewar levels on many staple goods, to defend against panic inflation. Now controversial laws set mandatory minimums on house and apartment sales — based on prewar market appraisal data — to prevent any mass exodus from vulnerable areas. Some people argued these severe executive orders were unconstitutional, but the president stood firm and told the people to stand firm too. If you can’t find a willing buyer at prewar prices, the president addressed the nation on live TV, then wait to sell after the war. Jeffrey figured that by the time dissenting lawsuits reached the U.S. Supreme Court, the war would be over in any case, one way or another.