When the distinguished-looking Chairman of the Joint Chiefs first contacted Mellongard at his residence, the former nuclear-submarine commander explained that the nature of his call was extremely sensitive.
The Admiral mentioned that he was with the Air Force Chief of Staff and suggested that it might be prudent to have the CIA involved from the very beginning.
In turn, the Defense Secretary invited them to his home and immediately called Paul Holcomb and requested that he attend the informal meeting.
Mellongard always insisted that every detail be spelled out, with logical solutions for any problems, before he approached the President with perplexing issues.
The Director of the CIA was already seated in the study when Mellongard rose and offered a perfunctory handshake to the two senior officers, then motioned them to a large sofa.
Bryce Mellongard sat down and leaned forward with his forearms on his desk. "Well, Clay," he said to Admiral Clayton Biddk, "I can tell from the look on your face that you're not bringing me any good news."
"Mr. Secretary," the submariner began sadly, "the Air Force has conclusive evidence to prove that a surface-to-air missile knocked down the F-16 we lost at Misawa."
Mellongard and Paul Holcomb were stunned by the disclosure. The Secretary shifted in his chair and stared at Fred Dunwall, the lanky Air Force general. "What did you find, Fred, and how long have you known about this?"
"Sir, I was informed about the missile approximately fifteen minutes before Admiral Biddle called you. Well-qualified eyewitnesses have claimed they saw a flash on the ground before the jet exploded."
Dunwall looked at Paul Holcomb before he continued. "Our team of investigators found debris which clearly indicates that the aircraft was hit by an explosive weapon."
"If I may, Fred," Admiral Biddle interrupted as politely as possible. "Mr. Secretary, the key element in the crash investigation is the fact that Air Force personnel found remnants of a Soviet-made SA-7 surface-to-air missile near the perimeter of the base."
Mellongard's eyes widened and he leaned back in his seat. It was hard for him to comprehend that a shoulder-launched antiaircraft missile had downed an American jet fighter in the middle of Japan.
"The weapon apparently malfunctioned when it was fired," the Chairman of the JCS continued. "The Air Force investigators found pieces of the SA-7, and there were splatters of blood on the fragments."
"They didn't leave the entire weapon behind?" Paul Holcomb suddenly interjected.
"No, sir," Biddle answered. "They apparently gathered what they could and got the hell out of there."
Mellongard turned to the self-serving director of the CIA.
"Paul, what do you make of this? Do you think this was another terrorist attack?"
Holcomb cleared his throat to give himself time to formulate his response. He was aware that international arms brokers were selling large quantities of the SA-7 Grail infrared-homing missiles as fast as they could get their hands on them.
"It could very well be the Chukaku-Ha," Holcomb suggested, remembering the latest terrorist brief he had received. "We're aware that the Organizatsiya — the Russian organized-crime element — is supplying terrorist groups with the latest military hardware, including mortars, AKM assault rifles, rocket-propelled grenades, incendiary devices, and shoulder-launched antiaircraft missiles."
Mellongard grew more uncomfortable as he thought about discussing the situation with the President. He fixed his gaze on Holcomb. "What are the real capabilities of this group — the Chukaku-Ha?"
It was the Director's time to squirm. "I — we simply don't know. But they are definitely a formidable and violent group. I see no reason to count them out."
Holcomb attempted to control the conversation by taking the offensive. "Our latest intelligence reports confirm that members of the Russian underground, accompanied by Soviet military officers, have been selling weapons-grade uranium and small, low-yield nuclear bombs to agents who regularly supply weapons to various terrorist factions."
Mellongard tugged at an earlobe. "Nuclear bombs?"
"That's correct. The nukes are small, but they're remotely controlled and they can reduce a small town to a pile of rubble. If they had used one of the smallest nukes on the World Trade Center, the twin towers would no longer exist and lower Manhattan would be polluted by radiation."
The Secretary's growing concern prodded him into being cautious. "What kind of confirmation do you have?" Holcomb paused and glanced at the officers, then framed his answer and looked at Mellongard. "Our agents have secretly filmed the exchanges, and federal police inspectors in Frankfurt and Stuttgart have recently arrested representatives of several terrorist groups — with the uranium in their possession. They even snagged one buyer who had a nuclear weapon in the back of a panel truck."
Mellongard was thinking ahead to his upcoming meeting with the President. "Are you telling me the Chukaku-Ha might have nuclear weapons?"
"It's impossible to know for sure." Paul Holcomb had mastered the art of dodging questions. "If a terrorist group has the means — the money and the contacts, and the Chukaku-Ha has both — they could conceivably get nuclear weapons from underground arms-brokers."
Unsure of how much he should reveal, Holcomb decided to be conservative and discuss only unclassified information. "We have confirmation that international arms dealers — mainly the crime bosses in the Organizatsiya — have set up cafeteria-style armories where agents for the terrorist groups can stroll through and pick out anything on the market."
When the Secretary didn't respond, Holcomb quickly continued in a defensive posture. "If the local authorities can't control the spread of weapons — even small nuclear weapons — we certainly can't do anything about the proliferation."
Giving himself time to weigh a few options, Mellongard cast a long look at the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. "Clay, what's your recommendation about the situation in Misawa?"
Living up to his reputation as a straight shooter, the Admiral spoke freely. "Sir, my concerns are more broad. I'm concerned about all of our bases in Japan."
The Defense Secretary tensed. He felt like he was being manipulated out on a limb. "Explain your concerns."
"From a military standpoint, if we continue to keep forces in Japan, we have to substantially increase our security system at every base. My recommendation is to use the Marine Corps to provide perimeter security at all our military facilities over there."
Clay Biddle continued after he saw the slight nod of approval from the Secretary. "From the other side of the coin, however, I believe we need to decide whether or not our military forces should even be in Japan."
"That's definitely something we should take into consideration," SECDEF lied. He didn't want to become embroiled in that issue. Leave it to the next Secretary.
Mellongard turned his attention to the Air Force Chief of Staff. "Fred, how do you feel about our presence in Japan?"
"I agree with Clay about security. Faced with the growing tide of animosity between our countries, my main concern is preventing the loss of any more lives or aircraft, regardless of who is shooting at us."
Mellongard was more uncomfortable then ever, but he sounded dispassionate when he spoke. "Do you think we really need a fighter wing at Misawa?"
The General, still troubled over losing a bright young pilot to terrorists, finally answered. "Sir, I think the forward presence of our military keeps problems to a minimum in various areas of the world. In my opinion the North Koreans would be more aggressive if we pulled out. However" — he rotated the academy ring around his finger—"whatever is decided, my personal responsibility is to take appropriate measures to protect the men and women in the Air Force."