“He cannot,” the chief of staff said.
The voice carried authoritative neutrality, and the man’s dark eyes held glints of brilliance. Renard recognized the chief as the sole remaining risk to his deal.
“In fact, I can,” Renard said. “The president’s predecessors were unprepared. I will see that he avoids repeating their mistakes.”
“This is a grave risk,” the chief said. “We are choosing hostility when we should be remedying our economic problems.”
“Take drastic maneuvers, you mean?” Renard asked. “Austerity measures on the people? Requests for loans to world banks that see far too much risk to lend Argentina another Euro? Internal governmental spending restrictions? I think not.”
“Our economic experts believe we can persevere,” the chief said. “We must be patient and let our policies run their course.”
“I’ve waited long enough,” Gomez said. “So have the people. I do not blame them for their impatience, their rioting. They need a leader who takes action.”
“Thirty-two years of diplomacy, sir,” the chief said. “Thirty-two years of turning adversaries into economic allies. Thirty-two years recovering from an embarrassing loss fighting for islands populated by more sheep than humans.”
“Watch yourself,” Gomez said.
“Sir, we call the Malvinas by their correct name, but the rest of the world calls them the Falkland Islands because the British named them as such, pledged to defend them from us thirty-two years ago, and then did so soundly with a modest flotilla of negligible anti-submarine capability and with a single squadron of inferior, limping Sea Harrier jet fighters — to our shame.”
“That is no concern,” Gomez said. “There has never been shame in my regime, nor will there ever be any. When I take military action, it is for the sake of victory. Nothing less.”
“You would be angering a lion, sir. True, their global force size has shrunk since nineteen eighty-two, but their presence in the Malvinas has grown. Not with our entire maritime forces could you do this. I urge you as your lead advisor, the man you’ve trusted your entire political career — disregard the counsel of this Frenchman.”
Renard swallowed, letting his adversary’s words linger in the air. He then bared his fangs and launched them at his rival’s neck.
“You have a vivid memory,” he said. “And accurate. However, you cite the actions of a junta that assumed foolishly that the British would yield the Falkland Islands without a fight. Now, if you wish to relegate the name ‘Falkland Islands’ to the footnotes of history, give them their proper name as the Malvinas, and extend your territorial waters outward to the fisheries and mineral deposits that you desperately need and deserve, you will acknowledge that your president is not the same fool of history who blundered in his vital assumptions of the military campaign.”
“I never even hinted that my president is a fool. You have no right to place such words in my mouth.”
“Then give your president the respect he deserves!”
The chief angled his jaw toward his boss.
“Sir, I urge you to follow a wiser course of action. The British are prepared to defend the islands. There will be a time to retake the Malvinas, but it is not now. Wait until you are in a position of strength.”
The president’s eyes turned black as his palm smacked his desktop.
“While I am president, Argentina will always be in a position of strength!”
Deducing that the president’s infamous short-fused rage would preserve the chief’s silence, the Frenchman nudged the conversation back to his preferred topics of planning.
“Your strength and resolve will be the keys to a clean and fast victory,” Renard said.
The color fell from Gomez’s face.
“Yes,” he said. “Strength and resolve.”
“There will be challenges and evaluation points where you may have to turn back,” Renard said. “But the odds favor you greatly. I would not be here otherwise.”
“I understand and appreciate your position,” Gomez said. “Let’s get back to the business of how this will work — if there are no more protests.”
The chief shook his head and pursed his lips.
“So, you’ve told me all I need to know about your perspective of my situation and the world’s position on it, and you have me convinced that I must take military against the British Empire in the South Atlantic Ocean.”
“Indeed.”
“You must tell me, who knows that you are repositioning a submarine across the globe toward my operational waters? This is a risk of attracting unwanted attention.”
“As a rule and courtesy, I always inform the United States of my intent for any submerged operations. But in this case, since I am having my vessel towed from the Pacific Ocean to your waters, I merely told my contacts in the United States that I was shipping my vessel into the area and would inform them later if I decided to undergo submerged operations.”
“You seem to enjoy a great deal of flexibility with the United States,” Gomez said.
“I’ve earned it.”
“I have difficulty believing they would allow you such flexibility based upon your past deeds,” Gomez said. “They aren’t ones to incur unnecessary risk based upon historical debts.”
Trying to suppress a smile, Renard glanced at the black sheen on his Christian Louboutin leather shoes. He realized that a quiet wisdom simmered underneath the machismo, durability, and flair that had earned Gomez the presidency.
“I have an open, unwritten contract to provide services should the United States fall short of available submarines, or, more likely, should they need a submarine to take action for which even the slightest possibility of their involvement being discovered would be an intolerable risk.”
“Action, such as challenging a British naval vessel?”
“Indeed,” Renard said. “More precisely, taking on a British submarine.”
Beside him, the chief of staff stirred and aimed his index finger at Renard’s nose.
“I agreed to remain silent about my misgivings in taking military action against the empire,” he said. “But ship for ship, they are arguably the world’s premiere submarine operators. You cannot hope to defeat a British nuclear-powered submarine with your ragtag mercenary crew.”
“Indeed I can,” Renard said, “if the proper trap is set. Submarine warfare is my primary and original area of expertise. I understand the advantages and disadvantages of nuclear power, having commanded the French nuclear submarine, Améthyste. Unless you have comparable perspective, I recommend you remain silent until you seek the counsel of your top submarine experts.”
“I—”
“But wait,” Renard said. “I shall spare you the effort. You have no experts in operating nuclear-powered submarines, because you don’t have any nuclear-powered submarines.”
“Now listen—”
“No, you listen,” Renard said. “We shall next discuss the capabilities of my Scorpène submarine. It has acoustic drones capable of loitering in wait for passing adversaries, extending the acoustic detection range to thrice that of its organic, hull-based hydrophones. And thanks to a recent customization my Taiwanese colleagues added at my request, my vessel also has super-cavitating weapons capable of speeds of two-hundred knots.”
The chief’s features softened.
“Two-hundred knots?” he asked.
“Yes, and I would invite you to again hold your tongue until you discuss these abilities with your domestic experts. I would then, again, spare you the wasted time — you have no such experts because you have no such capabilities.”
Gomez frowned.
“Enough, Mister Renard. I admire a man of confidence, like myself. You have my ear, and although I will examine your plans with extreme scrutiny, I will give you the benefit of the doubt in your claims of capability. Continue.”