“A diversion….” Daniel said, thinking out loud.
Ramirez looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
Daniel walked to the window, the blue Caribbean radiant before him.
“A diversion, a military term. Ramos is right; if it is the Americans who are behind this, what do they fear the most? Instability. Their stock market gyrates at the slightest bit of bad news. We know they and NATO are here, and we need them to show their hand. Let’s give them instability.”
“What is your proposal?” Ramos asked.
“Let’s start a war with them.”
Ramirez studied Daniel, trying to read him. “How?”
“I do not propose full-scale war with the United States, which the Bolivarian Republic would lose, but we can tie them down with diversions, feints. Raul receives millions from us; he can mass forces near Guantanamo. The Russians will do anything we ask for cash; they can fly warplanes here tomorrow to collect it, and the Americans are powerless to stop them. And since we’ve lined the pockets of the generals here for years, they can rattle their sabers for us. The politicians can concoct some foolish slight to cause a diplomatic crisis. The Americans would then move their forces to send their signal.” Pointing to the sea, Daniel continued. “I want to see an American aircraft carrier right there.”
“And this saves our boats and planes?”
“Yes. The Americans will overreact as they always do. Their media will become breathless reporting on war clouds in South America, ¡ay, caramba! Their focus will be defending Guantanamo, Roosevelt Roads, and the canal. Go-fast boats with product will be small potatoes. They can’t be everywhere.”
Ramos was unconvinced.
“If the Americans want, they can shut us down, and we still don’t know what is happening out there. Yet you seek more attention, more forces from the Americans?”
“Yes, Ramos. Call their bluff.”
“And how do you propose we do this?” Ramirez asked him.
Daniel now motioned to the “seconds” at the table who were taking it all in. “That’s in the details. Details to be left to others.” The men shifted in their chairs, knowing they would have to deliver a plan of action to their kingpins, and soon.
CHAPTER 20
The duty officer in the ready room called Trench to the phone. “XO’s on the line.”
When Trench answered, Annie ordered him to report to her stateroom — with Macho. An uneasy Trench replied, “Yes, ma’am,” and motioned to Macho in the back of the ready room. This could not be good.
“What?” Macho asked in a condescending manner as she walked up to him between the rows of high-backed chairs.
“XO wants to see us in her stateroom. Together. Now,” Trench said under his breath.
Macho felt a surge of adrenalin. This could not be good.
Trench and Macho walked from the ready room through the O-3 level passageways together. With Trench in the lead, the two pilots walked single file to squeeze past sailors transiting in the opposite direction. Both of them were troubled by the unexpected summons to their XO’s stateroom.
“What do you think this is about?” Trench asked.
“I don’t know,” Macho answered. They continued in silence. Although their “hate-hate” relationship was common knowledge among the air wing JOs, the two of them kept it professional and cordial in front of the heavies. When they arrived at Annie’s stateroom door, painted with a large Firebird emblem and the words EXECUTIVE OFFICER, Trench rapped twice.
“Come in,” Annie said. The pilots found her wearing her flight suit. Olive, one of their department heads, stood in the corner.
Oh, shit! Trench thought.
“Please, have a seat,” Annie said, motioning them to her couch. Trench and Macho sat down and faced their XO, waiting for her to speak first.
“I’m sure you are wondering why I’ve called you here together. It’s no secret there is no love lost between you two. As your XO, I see things, and I hear things. I want to offer my help before things get out of hand. What is going on between you two?”
The tight-lipped lieutenants avoided eye contact, each waiting for the other to speak first.
“Trench, as the senior, why don’t you start?”
Trench opened his mouth and tried to find the words. “Ma’am… we do our jobs, but… I mean…. We’re not friends, but we can get along.”
“And you?” Annie asked Macho.
“Ma’am, I have no problem with Trench,” she lied, wondering if she could fool her XO. She didn’t have to wonder long.
“Macho, you are full of baloney. I would use a stronger word, but, in the presence of ladies, I defer. Frankly, I don’t believe you’re telling me the truth. So, with that little lie out of the way, let’s continue. We’re going to resolve this right now. Do you read me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Annie cast a cool gaze at Macho. “Are you going to lie to me again?”
“No, ma’am!” a shaken Macho answered.
Annie waited a few seconds before she responded, an eternity to Macho. “Good.” When she continued, she set her sights on Trench, which allowed Macho to catch her breath.
“Trench, you are the quintessential air wing playa, think you are God’s gift, have a disgusting porn habit, and snicker too much in the back of the ready room. Are you seeing someone on this ship?”
“No, ma’am!”
“Good. Are you making women on this ship uncomfortable?”
“Ma’am?”
“Flirting with some but not others in the wardroom? Being overly solicitous of Airman Jackson on the flight deck? Snickering when our intel officer is briefing the squadron? Any of that ring a bell?”
Trench looked down, not knowing how to respond.
“We XOs have eyes in the back of our heads. Being a mom helps, too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he stammered, blood flushing his face, but Annie wasn’t finished with him.
“Are you attracted to some women on this ship?”
Trench glanced at her, then Olive. His worst nightmare was coming true. Where is the XO going with all this? he thought.
“No names, but tell me the truth.”
“Yes, ma’am, as much as the next guy.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
Trench moved back in his seat, not knowing what to say. He sensed, though, he had better figure it out fast. He again opened his mouth, but no words formed.
“How about Lieutenant Commander Teel? She’s a woman, and, unlike me, she’s single.”
Trench took a quick look at Olive whose face remained expressionless.
“Ma’am, no—”
“Oh, are we too old for you? I’m a hag, of course, at 38, but Olive is much closer to your own age. And, as I said, she’s available.”
Trench’s forehead was moist.
“Ma’am, I haven’t…. It would be wrong to pursue….”
“Because we’re senior officers, right? In your chain of command? Wouldn’t be proper, would it?”
“No, ma’am.”
“But Ensign Duncan and Airman Jackson are in your chain of command. You are their senior officer. Perhaps they are flattered by your attention. Perhaps it makes them nervous. Whatever it does, we call undue familiarity fraternization, and it’s really, really bad for good order and discipline. It doesn’t have to be sexual either. If Olive and I go shoe shopping together, or go in and buy a Cessna to fly on weekends, it’s still undue familiarity. She is at an advantage over her fellow department heads as they compete for promotion. And that generates mistrust, which is bad for good order and discipline, which, in turn, degrades combat effectiveness. And my job is to help the CO ensure that the Firebirds are combat effective.”