“Yes, sir. There’s more.” Thompson knew that bad news was unlike wine, in that it got worse with age. There was no way to soften the blow of the news. He just had to say it. He looked down at his Army trousers, hanging perfectly atop his shoes. His light green shirt conformed to his muscular frame. His eyes searched Stone’s to determine when he was ready for the next salvo. It was never easy being the messenger, who usually got shot, but he had learned to recognize when to talk and when to let the moment happen. Stone looked up at him from behind his glasses.
“The embassy has been overrun. Abu Sayyaf insurgents killed five of our people there, four military and one civilian.”
Stone grimaced. “Berryman?”
“Sir, Ambassador Berryman flew to safety on the medical evacuation helicopter with four other embassy personnel and two officers from the embassy. We have an infantry rifle company at Subic doing an ammunition guard mission, and apparently they had some men at the embassy being treated for wounds from the attack on their position this morning.”
“What?” Fox said loudly from behind Thompson.
“Yes, sir. About eighty insurgents stormed the ammunition location. The company performed well, though, killing seventy and taking ten prisoners. We, um …”—it was hard to say. Thompson had never been in combat, something he was concerned about, but still, to lose a soldier, anybody’s solider, was painful—“We lost two soldiers in the fight. One enlisted man was killed at Subic, and an officer, a lieutenant, was killed at the embassy. He jumped off the helicopter and saved the embassy doctor. When he was getting back on, he was shot in the back.”
“What the hell are you telling me, Lionel?” Stone screamed, standing up. “Just what in the hell is going on? There’s no war in the Philippines! We’re fighting in Afghanistan and getting ready to fight in Iraq! This isn’t part of the plan!” He cadenced his words, as if Thompson could not understand him. He picked up a glass paperweight with a picture of a bear inside, a gift from a Korean diplomat, and chucked it at the wall.
Thompson was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but he could handle it. He’d never been in a worse situation, but had seen far greater displays of emotion from battalion and brigade commanders over far pettier issues.
“Sir,” he said, “there’s one more item of infor-mation you need.”
“What’s that, the Abu Sayyaf now has Chinese nukes aimed at us?” he said angrily, firing another shot at the messenger.
“No sir. The ambassador sent a Special Forces team into Mindanao a few days ago. Some Filipino helicopters were supposed to pick them up today, but obviously they did not. No one has heard from the team for four days.”
“How did all of this happen, Lionel? Tell me. How did we let this happen?”
“Sir. I just got off the phone with the Pacific Command intelligence guys. They said that a week ago they got the order from us to collect intelligence in the East China Sea. They’ve been focused like a laser beam on China and Taiwan.”
Stone looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. He remembered his promise to the Japanese ambassador. And he remembered thinking, Yeah, that should work.
“Get me Chairman Sewell,” Stone said flatly, reaching for his phone. He dialed and told his wife that he was going to be working late. Waiting for the chairman, he thought to himself: Bobby old boy, you deserve an Oscar. The Rolling Stones would be proud.
Fox and Diamond began to shift uncomfortably in their chairs. Fox was dressed in a dark blue suit with a gray silk shirt, while Diamond was wearing a dark gray suit with a blue silk shirt. Photonegatives, Stone thought.
“Who authorized all those troop movements to the Philippines?” Fox asked, standing in front of Stone’s desk.
“That is depleting our focus on Iraq. Jeopardizing the mission,” Diamond said.
“Yes, jeopardizing the mission,” Fox added.
“This is a one hand doesn’t know what the other is doing thing. I can guarantee it,” Stone said angrily.
“We need to get both hands out front where we can see them,” Fox said. He held his hands in front of him to emphasize his point.
“Both hands,” Diamond added, doing the same as Fox.
To Stone, both men looked like mimes pressing their hands against invisible walls. “Don’t worry, guys, it’s under control. I’ve got Central Command bringing me the plan this week.”
“We might have to go this spring. Just do it,” Fox said. “Get in front of this developing Pacific thing.”
“We don’t have the munitions,” Stone said. “We can’t get there from here.”
“What we lack in armament we will more than compensate for by surprise,” Diamond countered.
“Why are we arguing about this? We all agree on the strategy,” Stone said.
“Do we, Bob?”
Stone assessed the two men, still sitting in their chairs. They had just heard that American lives were lost in the Philippines and they knew damn well that the fight in Afghanistan was a slow-motion strategic nightmare.
While the soldiers on the ground were performing magnificently, Stone knew that the strategic window to crush Al Qaeda had slammed shut as the enemy senior leaders escaped through the rugged Hindu Kush. Stone’s position all along had been now that 9-11 had occurred, the nation should use the event as a rallying cry to attack Islamic fundamentalism everywhere. Hence, the gambit in the Philippines. It had everything to do with putting pressure on the global extremist network. The threat was so obvious to him. Stone wondered how Fox and Diamond could blindly sit there and ignore the evidence: that Iraq, while important, needed to wait.
“We do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to do.”
Diamond and Fox followed one another out, and Stone shut the door behind them.
Walking to his desk, he picked up his phone, thinking, the glider is aloft. Let the winds of chance buffet it and pray for a soft landing. He dialed Rathburn’s number, and frowned when he didn’t receive an answer. He was certain the hostage thing was an elaborate plan that Rathburn had hatched. An improvisation, for sure, but a delicious one nonetheless. Matt Garrett, our number one operator, is a hostage! Not to worry though. Stone left a message:
“This is Mick leaving a message for Keith. It appears we have satisfaction. Good job. Ring me back straightaway. Cheers.”
Chapter 49
Stone sat at the head of the table as the usual group shuffled into the conference room on the E-ring in the Pentagon. The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, each of the service chiefs of staff, the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, and various other high-level political appointees gathered as they feverishly worked through the night on a response.
Stone shook his head at the first slide, which determined that the first priority was to save American lives. The next slide showed actions that had been taken to date.
On Stone’s order, Special Operations Command had alerted the Ranger battalion dedicated to quick-reaction force duty, which was the second battalion stationed in Fort Lewis, Washington. C-17 Globemasters were flying into McChord Air Force Base next to Fort Lewis. Likewise, he alerted other elite forces located in Fort Bragg, North Carolina. He gave the Twenty-fifth Infantry Division in Hawaii a warning order to have a brigade combat team ready for deployment in less than twenty-four hours.
Again, on Stone’s order, the Air Force chief of staff had alerted the fighter squadron at Andersen Air Force Base in Guam. They were put on strip alert, as there was no clear mission, yet. He ordered the movement of cargo aircraft to bases along the West Coast.