"Washington's on the line, Admiral," the aide said, extending the telephone. "The CNO."
Magruder accepted the handset reluctantly. With no way of knowing how Washington was going to jump on this one, he was not looking forward to the conversation. He glanced at a set of clocks on the bulkhead. Twenty-hundred hours, eight in the evening, was eight in the morning, Washington time. "Good morning, Admiral," he said.
"More like good evening where you are, Tom," a voice replied. There was a faint hiss of static over the multiple satellite relay between Thailand and the U.S. east coast.
Admiral Fletcher T. Grimes was the Chief of Naval Operations and, as such, was the Navy's representative on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. In fact, American Congressional law had de-emphasized the CNO's operational responsibilities and he no longer exercised personal command over the country's naval forces. Both the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary of the Navy, however, knew that Magruder and Grimes were old friends, and had directed that the CNO serve as the President's link with his commander in the field this time.
"You have my report, I take it," Magruder said.
"On my desk in front of me. I briefed the President this morning. It looks like you're going to be center stage again, Tom."
"I understand, sir." The Wonsan affair had thrust the Jefferson battle group into the public eye three months earlier. Now, the political situation in Thailand was deteriorating rapidly. If the President was to have any hand in protecting America's most important ally in the region, he would have to act quickly… and that meant calling on CBG-14 once more.
"The President met with the That ambassador yesterday, Tom. Bangkok has formally asked for our assistance over there."
"That doesn't quite square with what we've been getting over here, Admiral. The story we're getting is more along the lines of 'Hands off, we can do it ourselves.""
"Tom, it is the considered opinion of several of the President's advisors that there may be… elements within the That military, a faction which could be planning a coup."
"We've certainly heard rumors to that effect here," Magruder said, "I included that in my report."
"Yes, I saw. Tom, the National Security Council has advised the President that a military coup in Thailand at this time could lead to a severe destabilization throughout the area. We can't allow that to happen… not unchallenged."
"Understood. What are the President's orders?"
"They'll be coming down through the chain of command later today. I can tell you, though, how they'll read. Provide the legitimate That government with full support, air and land."
"That won't help if we can't get local military cooperation."
"We're working on that."
"We also can't help much if we don't have a target."
"We're working on that too. The important thing is to let the good guys know we're backing them. The opposition will be trying to force a wedge between us and the Bangkok government, maybe try to discredit us. It's all laid out in your orders."
"Yes, sir," Magruder said dryly. Orders from the Joint Chiefs generally weighed in like encyclopedias… with enough contradictory and generally ass-covering clauses to keep field commanders guessing for months. But at least Fletcher was on his side.
"Orders have already been transmitted for MEU-6 to join CBG-14 again," Grimes continued. "They were in Singapore on maneuvers, but they're on their way to your position now. Should arrive sometime day after tomorrow, and they'll be in air transport range within eighteen hours."
Magruder pursed his lips. This was being taken seriously indeed in Washington if they were sending in the Marines again. Marine Expeditionary Unit 6, consisting of four ships and almost two thousand Marines, had also been at Wonsan, securing a beachhead to facilitate the evacuation of rescued American seamen. Their primary mission in Bangkok would be to safeguard American lives and property.
"Okay, Admiral," Magruder said after a moment. "What about threats to our people?"
"The people lost near U Feng?"
"Yes, sir. And our AWOLs."
"You still think that incident might be more than it seems?"
"it is a distinct possibility, sir. No hard evidence… but it's very suspicious. And it all ties in with what you were just saying… with the possibility that someone might be trying to discredit us. What better way than to hit us, hard and unexpectedly?"
"A terrorist attack?"
"Possibly. I'm more concerned about further attacks on our personnel ashore. It's going to be morning before they're all back on board."
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"There's not a hell of a lot we can do, Admiral. Not until we know what they're going to do. I've briefed my officers. We've set readiness condition X-ray Three. We're cancelling further liberty as our people come back aboard tonight. More than that we can't do until we see a definite threat, something we can respond to."
"Understood." There was a long hesitation on the line, as though Grimes was turning possibilities over in his mind. "I'll tell you, Tom. I think our problem is a mole."
"A spy, sir?"
"Someone in the works, gumming them up. Probably in the Bangkok bureaucracy. I'll pass a request on to the DCI to see what can be done. In the meantime, continue as you have been. But be prepared to use your own initiative to render all possible assistance to the legitimate That government."
"Does that include sending in the Marines, sir?"
"it means doing whatever you feel is justified to preserve American lives and property, to protect your command… and to support our allies in Southeast Asia. I can't be much more specific than that."
"That's specific enough, Admiral." Magruder was already thinking about the possibilities. The Marines from MEU-6 would not be available until midday tomorrow, but he had ninety Marines on board the Jefferson. A platoon could be heloed in to the American embassy in Bangkok in order to reinforce security there… and possibly to provide a ready mobile force should the three missing seamen be discovered.
Something big was happening in the city, and Admiral Magruder wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was.
He only hoped he wasn't already too late.
Pamela had been surprised by Tombstone's phone call, but she'd told him to come straight up. She'd been able to sense the strain underlying his words and knew something was wrong.
Since their time together at the Thonburi klong, she'd been forced to admit to herself that she felt much more for Matthew Magruder than could be explained by professional interest. It wasn't love ― she wasn't ready to go that far ― but they were certainly friends, and friendship was something which Pamela Drake took very seriously indeed.
"Matt, it's good to see you," she said as she opened the door. "Come in."
He entered, wearing civilian clothes and an expression which could have been hiding almost anything. "Hello, Pam. Sorry to catch you by surprise.
Did I interrupt something?"
"Not at all."
"Are you… I mean, are the guys in your crew here?"
"We are quite alone, Matt! I was going over some script revisions, is all. Can I get you something to drink?" The hotel suite had a small bar and a refrigerator.
"No, thanks."
"Have you eaten? I could call room service."
"Pamela, I've got to talk to you." It sounded as though he'd been saving the words for a long time, holding them for the moment. "It's about your story… the interview."
"What about it?"
"Look, I know this isn't fair, for you or for your show. But I've been having second thoughts about my part in the thing. I was wondering if you had enough that you could do your series without me."
"You're damned right it's not fair. Do you have any idea how much money has been spent on this project already?"