Admiral Balboa’s smile was unabashedly broad and self-satisfying. “Yes, sir, ” he said with undisguised enthusiasm. “Til take care of that embarrassing mess right away.”
Balboa’s anxiousness to start tearing at Elliott was a little unnerving, but the President let it go — it was time for Balboa to retake charge of his military forces, and time for the President to back off and stop micromanaging the military. He asked, “Status of the Strategic Command stand-up?”
“All of the Combined Task Forces are fully manned and ready to move when you give the word, sir,” Balboa said. “Of course, the CTFs agree that we see no reason right now to gain any nuclear assets whatsoever. CINCPAC is still in command of the Pacific-China theater. If we identify a target in Asia, CINCPAC should gain whatever resources he wants to handle it.”
“Fine,” the President said. “I agree with them — we don’t need any nuclear forces unless China tries to make another move using nuclear weapons. But I don’t think we’ll see any more of that. Give me a report from CINCPAC tomorrow afternoon.”
Jerrod Hale had picked up the phone again to answer another call. The President noticed Hale’s silent, almost expressionless signal. “Anything else for me, Admiral?”
Balboa was in mid-sip. He swallowed, looking expectantly at the President, then at Hale, then back again. “No, sir.”
“Thank you, and good night,” the President said, curtly dismissing him. Hale bent over to talk quietly with the President, effectively isolating the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Balboa blinked in surprise, put down his cup of coffee with an irritated clatter of china, and departed. After Balboa departed, the President sighed aloud. “Senator Finegold— already? She couldn’t even wait until morning?”
“You don’t need to take this call, Kevin,” Hale said. “You’re busy handling the crisis. I’ll tell Finegold that we’ll brief the leadership before we issue any statements to the press.”
President Martindale sighed heavily, rubbing the dull ache developing in his temples. He knew he should talk with Finegold; he knew that, if he didn’t, the first thing she was going to do in the morning was get on the network morning shows, complain about not getting briefed in a timely manner by the White House, then put her own ridiculous spin on the developments. Without hesitating any longer, he hit the button on the phone: “Hello, Senator.”
“Thank you so much for taking my call, Mr. President,” Senator Barbara Finegold responded. “I’m sorry for interrupting you — I know how busy you must be right now. ”
“I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you right now, Senator,” the President said cautiously. “The facts are that two Navy frigates were hit by Chinese submarine and air attacks in the Formosa Strait, and one of our patrol planes accidentally attacked a Chinese ferry. I don’t have any independent confirmation on any other incidents over there.”
“What kind of patrol plane was that on the news, Mr. President?” Finegold asked. “On the news, it looked like a B-52 bomber.”
“It was a new, experimental class of long-range patrol and attack aircraft, based on the B-52 but with some modern enhancements,” the President replied. “Its actions were totally defensive in nature, occurring only after one of our frigates was hit.”
“Have you spoken with China yet, Mr. President? What are they saying about all this?”
“I have, and the Chinese are apologizing for their rash actions,” the President replied. “Of course, they’re blaming everything on preemptive attacks by Taiwan, an allegation that we have not yet confirmed.”
“A Chinese aircraft carrier and a military base were attacked — if we didn’t do it, then who else could have done it except Taiwan?” Finegold asked. “They got the submarine that attacked the carrier, and they shot down a bomber overflying their military site. I think that’s pretty compelling evidence, don’t you, Mr. President?”
“Do you want to take China’s word for all that’s happened, or would you like some independent confirmation first, Senator?” the President asked heatedly. Jerrod waved his hands palm-down at the President, reminding him to “take it easy.”
“I see lots of innocent civilians killed and hurt on CNN, Mr. President,” Finegold said testily. “Are you saying that all this is a fake, a fabrication by China? If it is, it’s pretty good work.”
“What I’m saying is, we don’t have independent confirmation of anything right now. ”
“I’d like a joint congressional task force to go out there to look for themselves,” Finegold said. “Can we count on Pentagon travel support?”
“Of course. Military, common carrier, whatever’s available.”
“We’d like to see that patrol plane first,” Finegold said. “We’d like to talk to the crews, interview the commander, get some details.”
The President hesitated, and he could feel the tension building. “That may not be possible, Senator,” he responded. “They’re still on patrol, assisting in recovery efforts. I’ve ordered the plane brought back to the States after they finish their patrol — that might be the best place to look at it and talk to the crews.”
“I was hoping to do it sooner rather than later, Mr. President,” Fine- gold said. “My staff tells me the bombers are based out of Guam — if that’s correct, perhaps we could see them on our way out to talk with representatives of the Japanese, Taiwanese, and Chinese governments.”
The President subdued an exasperated sigh. Finegold knew too much detailed information, details she could only get through direct communication with very high-ranking sources. He had hoped that Hale would be wrong about George Balboa squawking to Finegold, but it seemed more and more likely now.
“Very well, Senator. I’ll see to it they’re made available to you or your staffers,” the President said. “But I caution you that the President is still the nation’s diplomat. Although I certainly grant that members of Congress can visit and meet with any foreign leaders they choose, it is the President who makes foreign policy, negotiates treaties, and deals with matters of state. You carry much influence around the world, Senator Finegold, and your visit might be confused by foreign leaders as an official government communication.”
“We will make our intentions and the purpose of our visit crystal clear, Mr. President,” Finegold said testily, adding, “but I thank you for the civics lesson.” The temperature of the Oval Office turned decidedly cooler just then. “May I ask what response you intend to initiate in the wake of these so-called Chinese attacks, made to look like Taiwanese attacks? Will you retaliate against China?”
“I intend to rescue as many survivors as I can from the disaster in the Formosa Strait,” the President said, “and then I intend to bring our ships and soldiers safely home. After that, I haven’t decided. But I do not intend to break diplomatic relations with China or mount any sort of retaliation.”
“That’s good to hear, Mr. President,” Finegold said. “And I hope you’d be so kind as to consult with Congress before initiating any economic or military sanctions against China.”
“Of course, if the opportunity presents itself,” the President replied. “Thank you for calling, Senator. Good night.” He hung up the phone before she could ask another question. “The nerve of that witch! ” he said half aloud. “Instructing me on my duties and responsibilities to Congress!
“You’ve got to be careful, Kevin,” Jerrod Hale said. “Don’t go to the mat with her over the phone — you don’t know who’s listening. If you want to chew her out or tell her where to stuff her suggestions, get her out here to the White House and then let her have it. Make her get dressed and haul her tight narrow Nob Hill butt outside. You can then bring several members of the House leadership over so you have a nice big audience to watch her squirm.”