President Garrett tried to fight back a smile. “It would be setting quite a precedent. But what would we do when the case was less clear? When people claim responsibility for terrorist acts that we believe were not actually commited by them?”
Brown thought for a minute. “There will be times when discernment and judgment call for this power being used against a terrorist group. But it doesn’t mean we have to use it every time.”
The Director of Central Intelligence was extremely unhappy. He finally could not resist speaking out. “Don’t you see the problem? We could have a lingering, unfinished war forever. How do you know when it’s over?”
Brown had anticipated such a question. “Would it be any worse than having a lingering unfinished undeclared war like we still have with Korea after fifty years? How could it be worse than that? It seems to me that it’s over when we say it’s over. After we have killed or captured the rodent — as the President called him — we can declare it over. Congress declares that the war exists, and it can likewise declare it is stopped or has ceased to exist. We simply stop it when we want to, when our objective has been achieved. But let me add that I have no problem at all with an open declaration of war whenever a terrorist attacks the United States. The military and the CIA could be free to pursue such terrorists with a license granted in wartime against the soldiers of the enemy — the freedom to shoot on sight throughout the world, for all time. What more effective tool could there be in combating terrorism than that?”
“It seems to allow an awful lot of room for error,” the Attorney General said.
Brown smiled. “Error? We seem to make more errors by the use of our intelligence assets and covert operations than all the wars put together.” The DCI was enraged by Brown’s comment, but the Admiral was unintimidated. “We have more egg on our face as a country from minuscule intelligence operations, than from all the bungled military operations throughout history. If that’s your fear, I’ll place my money on the military.”
Someone in the room started clapping, slowly, but steadily. Brown was surprised and looked around quickly to see the source of the noise, which he had assumed was disapproving. Before he knew it, several others began clapping. Brown was shocked, but he was also as excited as he had ever been in his short political career. It was all coming together, his military background, his leadership in the House, and his lifelong willingness to stick his neck out for the right thing.
The President stood up. “We’ll need to think about this, won’t we?”
Brown could tell the President was surprised and caught off-guard. He should have called Garrett’s Chief of Staff. The President might have bought into the idea, and even made it his own. That was probably why he hadn’t — he wanted the idea for himself. To become respected and well known. What a petty political thought, Brown quickly realized. As if the idea was even his. He had stolen it from a lowly Navy Lieutenant.
“Admiral,” the President said, “I appreciate your willingness to throw that idea out here. Took a lot of courage to do that. I think you’ve given all of us plenty to think about, and I think some of my advisers are waiting to tell me a lot of things you don’t get to hear. So rather than spend a lot more time in this meeting, unless someone has a better idea than that” — he looked around the room — “I’d like us all to retreat to our respective offices and chew on this. I think it is worthy of consideration, and that is what I plan to do.”
27
The Squadron Duty Officer gave Woods a knowing look. Woods stared at him, confused. The SDO pointed toward the rear of the ready room. Woods glanced back and saw the chaplain. “Oh, man, what’s he doing here?”
The SDO shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Hey. What’s up?” Woods said to Maloney as he approached.
The chaplain spoke softly. “I thought perhaps you would like to talk.”
“About what?”
“Just about all the things that have happened.”
“What things?”
“The attack that went north, the accusations, and now the retaliation and the President’s speech. I think more things may come from this as well.”
“So why would I want to talk to you about that?” Woods was feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
“Is there someplace we can sit down?”
Woods looked around the room and saw two or three officers watching him, trying not to show that they were. “Sure. Let’s sit right here,” Woods said, indicating the briefing area. “What is it?” he asked, not really wanting to know.
“You don’t think much of me—”
“Sure I do. You helped a lot with the letter to my congressman.”
The chaplain measured his words carefully. “Did you fly into Lebanon and Syria with the Israeli Air Force?”
“What? Where’d you get that?”
“Did you?”
“I’ve been through this with the CAG. I’m not going over it again. If you don’t get what happened, I can’t help you. Thanks for your interest, but I’ve got a lot of other things to do. Anything else?”
“I’m surprised that you’re unwilling to answer a simple question.”
“Where do you get off coming in here and grilling me about something that is ancient history? And even if I did go with the Israeli Air Force, so what?”
“If you did, it probably was illegal.”
“Illegal where?”
“Illegal here. On the carrier. Under U.S. law.”
“Probably. So what?”
“I was just remembering how important it was to you that the declaration of war be within the law. You asked the JAG officer to do research on the law so that you could get it right. He kind of stuck his neck out for you, and I’ll bet you sent his information to your congressman, didn’t you? Since I never got a copy…”
“Yes, I did. I meant to tell him about it…”
“You asked me to do the memo I did on what would constitute a just war. All intended, I suppose, to make the declaration of war ‘legal.’ So it struck me as odd, that if in fact you were willing to go with the Israeli Air Force and attack another country, how it was that you came to such a position. If you did, I thought you might be having… some problems of conscience. That is why I am here.”
Woods stared at the chaplain. He didn’t know what to say. His conscience was bothering him. Even what Big had said had kept him up all night. He had never seen himself as a liar, or someone who deceived his superiors and peers. But he wanted to stay out of Leavenworth. He had to. “How’s your conscience? What have you done wrong lately? Done anything dishonest in the last two weeks?”