Myles measured his words as he spoke them. ‘We need a different approach,’ he replied. ‘These guys may be primitive, but we won’t beat them with technology. We’ve got to out-think them.’
‘“Out-think” them?’ Susan said ‘out-think’ derisively, as though Myles was proposing some sort of chess competition.
Myles tried to answer. ‘I don’t mean mind games. I mean we’ve got to work out what they’re planning,’ he explained. ‘They say they’re going to inflict on us the fate of the Roman Empire. That should give us some clues.’
Susan nodded, then went back on the network. ‘OK, we’re going to form a brains trust to plot our next moves. Mr Roosevelt — we’d be grateful if you could be involved.’
Richard Roosevelt’s voice came on, surprisingly unperturbed by the Hellfire strike which could have just killed his father. ‘OK, you got me,’ he said.
‘Good,’ said Susan. ‘Then I need just one man from each unit. Don’t send me the most senior. Send me your brightest — anyone you have who can think outside the box. We’ll meet in the academy in…’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Five hours.’
Only as the message confirmations came through did Myles realise just how many units had been listening on the net. Susan answered further questions, and took suggestions for people to attend the ‘brains trust’ meeting. It seemed to offer her consolation after the doomed rescue mission into Libya.
Five hours later, Myles found himself in a familiar place: at the front of a lecture hall. But this was in America’s most elite military academy. He had been driven to West Point in upstate New York, where the US trained its most promising military men and women.
If he were more sentimental, he would have revelled in the history of the place: this was the cradle of the American military spirit, the training ground for their best — and worst — military leaders over two centuries, including several past presidents. But it passed him by. History mattered much less to him now — now he was caught up in history being made, although it gave him no pride at all.
Before him were more than forty of the military’s best intelligence specialists, covert operations experts, and military PhDs. Even some of General Petraeus’s human terrain anthropologists were there, including several fresh back from the field. Richard Roosevelt sat in the front row, still glowing with relief after his daring escape. Myles shook his hand warmly.
Myles scanned the crowd — it was a very different audience to the university students he was used to teaching — and stood up to speak. ‘Thank you all for coming,’ he announced. ‘Here is the situation. A gangster initially from Somalia called Juma…’
A long-distance photograph of Juma appeared on the screen behind him.
‘…has taken hostage Senator Sam Roosevelt,’ explained Myles. ‘Juma threatens to destroy America “as the Roman Empire was destroyed”. Our job is to stop Juma and his pirates bringing down America, and save the Senator.’ He saw a hand go up at the back of the hall and invited the bespectacled naval officer to speak.
‘Sir, how was the Roman Empire destroyed?’ asked the Navy man.
‘Good question,’ said Myles, nodding to accept it. ‘There are lots of theories — at least two hundred of them. Nobody’s really certain. There were probably several things which brought Rome down. But Juma’s wife, Placidia…’
A picture of Placidia taken from her recent video displaced the image of Juma.
‘…is a top scholar on the subject. Perhaps the top scholar. It’s her opinion that counts, both because she’s probably right, and because she’s got a strong influence over Juma and his gang of pirates, mercenaries and migrants. Placidia is half-American, by the way. She knows us a lot better than we know her.’
Another hand went up — a woman in army fatigues. Myles nodded at her. She moved in her seat as she spoke. ‘Sir, why Rome?’
‘Rome is the country on which the American nation was based,’ replied Myles. ‘The founding fathers deliberately modelled their experiment in government on Rome, which had, until then, led the most powerful empire the world had ever seen.’
The army woman shook her head. Myles had misunderstood. ‘Yes, I get that,’ she said. ‘But why Rome as a threat? There are lots of ways these people could have threatened us. Why threaten us with a fate nobody really understands?’
Myles acknowledged the point: the woman was right. ‘That’s something we need to find the answer to.’
In the front row, Richard Roosevelt caught Myles’ eye. Myles motioned for him to speak. ‘Myles, you’ve met Juma and Placidia,’ said Roosevelt, ‘and you know Placidia well.’
‘Knew, Richard, knew — I don’t know her now.’
‘OK, you knew Placidia. What do you think they’re trying to achieve? I mean, do they really think they can take on America and win?’ The question raised a murmur around the room. Dick Roosevelt had his father’s gift for making points which won over the crowd.
Myles recognised the sentiment and tried to give as honest an answer as he could. ‘Placidia — when I knew her at university — was amazingly bright,’ he said. ‘Probably more gifted than anyone in this room. And very idealist. So idealist she was almost naive, but determined with it. I don’t know what’s made her change, but I’m sure her husband, Juma, had something to do with it. Juma has been assessed as a psychopath.’
Dick nodded: he thought Juma was a psychopath, too.
‘So, we’re dealing with an idealistic mastermind and a madman,’ continued Myles. ‘It’s possible that neither of them have looked at this situation as we would look at it. I’m not sure they’re even trying to win. Placidia will probably have a very clever motive. Juma may have no motive at all.’
There was silence. It gave Myles an opportunity to make one last point. ‘And there’s another thing for us to consider — which is that we could concede to their demands. They want many thousands of African migrants trapped in Libya to be allowed to settle in the continental United States. Perhaps we should let them…’
The lecture theatre exploded into furious debate. Myles let it run for a few seconds. Then he shouted instructions over the noise. ‘Break into three teams, and come back here in one hour with some answers. We need to know how they’re going to attack us, what we should do about it, and anything else which might save America from the fate of Rome.’
Myles allowed the groups to disperse, most of them still arguing furiously. When the last uniform left, Myles was completely alone again.
He absorbed the silence. It helped him think. Why had Juma and Placidia threatened the US? He leant back, letting his mind muse on, trying to make progress but failing.
Myles realised: this puzzle was like an optical illusion — the more he thought he understood, the less he really knew. Placidia’s ‘last prophecy of Rome’ — that the United States would be brought down in the same way as the ancient superpower — all depended on Placidia’s unique view of history.
Everything he’d learnt about Rome he’d learnt with her, and he hadn’t focussed on the history during those lessons because he’d been too focussed on her. And now her puzzle was teasing him for it.
Images of Placidia drifted back into his mind. Emotions were displacing logic: Myles was too close.
His knowledge of Placidia, all those years ago, meant he was the worst person to work out how to stop Juma’s plans now.
Twenty-Six
After fifty-five minutes, the first team started coming back. Still discussing their conclusions, there were clearly very different views amongst them. Myles often used break-out groups in his lectures. They forced the students to think. He didn’t interrupt: he knew less thinking would be done if he interfered.