“According to that, most of the area we can defend is behind us,” Dan said.
“Right, but there’s nothing we can do about that. It’s just the way the intercept geometry works. Actually our optimal location would be about a hundred miles inland. But it means two things. First, we have a real narrow footprint we can launch from, to have much chance of making an intercept. Second, we’ve got to push that footprint in as close to shore as possible. The closer in, the better we can cover our defended area. However, we have to stay fairly far north, too. Unfortunately—”
“That puts us very close to Syrian waters,” Staurulakis finished.
Wenck nodded. “Yes ma’am. The closer inshore we get, the bigger the hoop on that basket we’re trying to hit. But you’re right.”
The operations officer murmured, “The Syrians are trying to figure out which way to jump in this war anyway. We probably don’t want to be their excuse to jump the wrong way.”
“Hey, if they do, we’ll just lick their shit too,” Wenck put in.
Dan winced — it was an unfortunate choice of words — and glanced at him. “Donnie, that’s good. Clarifies the problem. Anything else? Any way we can make things easier for our tracking team? Give them some kind of advantage?” He made sure not to look at Terranova as he said this.
Wenck blinked and pushed his cowlick back. “Hey, everybody seems to think there’s a bunch of dummies on that console. It’s not Beth’s fault. This is a new system. New software. But the training package is all old shit; all she got was the beta development notes. Wanna know why? Some dickhead in the missile-development agency cut their funds off. They need billions for some supersmart kinetic-energy warhead, so they cut all the funding for training. The Terror here, she had to make half of it up herself.”
Noblos started to object, spluttering; Dan held up a palm. “Okay, okay! Maybe a little less finger-pointing and more listening here? We have a lot of constraints and not much wiggle room. Two things worry me, and they’re related. What Cheryl pointed out — Syria considers the area where we’d most like to be, to successfully intercept, as its territorial waters. Allied to that is ship self-defense. Petty Officer Terranova told me, but it didn’t really hit home until today, how vulnerable we are in BMD mode.”
Mills said, “We’re really almost blind against other threats.”
Dan nodded. “Right; such as antiship missiles fired from Syria. Or by Hamas or Hezbollah, from Lebanon. Intel says they might have some Iranian C-802s.”
Staurulakis murmured, “C-band search radar. Seventy-five-mile range. Sea skimmer; possible midcourse correction via data link; radar terminal homing.”
Dan said, “Mount one of those on a truck, and that could be a real headache, if we’re not looking right at southeast Beirut when they launch. We need to be ready to either jam it, decoy it, or shoot it down.”
Wenck looked up with that dreamy stare he got sometimes. “What?” Dan asked him.
“If it’s got a data link, maybe we could convince it it’s off course. Send it someplace we aren’t.”
“Spoof it? Good, look into that. And we haven’t even mentioned the problem with the Patriot battery at Ben Gurion.”
“Plus there’s Israel’s own ABM system,” Noblos said.
“Right … Arrow. If both Aegis and Patriot lock onto an incoming missile, and Arrow, too, we could all jam each other up good.” Dan told the table at large, “I’ve kicked that one up to the commodore, but we still don’t have any coordination with the Israel Defense Forces.”
A sharp double rap; they all looked toward the door. “Come in,” Dan called. It opened on the chief radioman, carrying a clipboard. He grinned uncomfortably. “Just a sec,” Dan said. “I want to finish my train of thought here.”
“Captain, this is the message you wanted.”
Dan frowned; what message had he “wanted”? Unless it was a personal from Blair. But he’d cut off e-mail to the crew; he could hardly stay in contact himself. Unless something had happened at home. “Just a sec,” he muttered. Then went on, turning back to their expectant expressions. “So, serious challenges. I want us to concentrate on those two things. One, how do we defend ourselves while Aegis is focused on looking inland — Matt, Cheryl, see what the two of you can work out. Two, how do we minimize interference with the Israelis, both Patriot and Arrow. Donnie, you and Bill work that issue.”
“Freq-hop at the lower end of their spectrum, maybe,” the chief said.
“Look into it. I need a recommendation. Petty Officer Terranova, brief me on your watch setup and any way we can destress your watchstanders. We could be out here awhile. I want them to be able to sleep. They’ve got to be fresh when they’re in front of that screen. The rest of the ship’s here to support them, so I don’t want them pulled off for any other duties.” He started to slap the table, but caught himself.
Noblos rose first and made for the door. The comm chief brushed past him and came toward Dan, holding out the clipboard. “The message you were looking for, sir,” he said again, not meeting Dan’s eye. “Sent late yesterday. Marked routine. So it didn’t actually come in until just now.”
Dan ran his eye down the headers, to the text.
PARA 2 (C): WH STAFFER ADAM ALONSO AMMERMANN ENRTE USS SAVO ISLAND. PURPOSE: SHIP VISIT AND LIAISON WITH CTG 161 IRO CURRENT OPERATIONS. NO HONORS. SAVO ISLAND PROVIDE BERTHING/MESSING 0–7 EQUIVALENT.
He lifted the Hydra to his mouth. “Chief Toan, CO here. — Hey, Matt, can you stand by a second?”
“Sure, sir.” Mills halted by the door.
“CMA here, sir. Over.”
“Mr. Ammermann. In the in-port commander’s stateroom?”
“Yes sir. With one of my boys on the door. Just like you said.”
“Okay, good. Tell him — tell Mr. Ammermann his clearance message came through. Take the guard off, and tell him he’s welcome in the wardroom for evening meal. But we’re going to have to talk about access, and so on.”
He remembered more now about Public Liaison. They’d been mainly young campaign workers, or sons or daughters of major donors and political confidants. After a short orientation, the White House chief of staff, or at least someone in that office, sent them out to embed in various federal agencies. They weren’t actually appointees, since they weren’t subject to the confirmation process. He wasn’t even sure they were paid. You could see them as sort of political commissars, but that might be taking them more seriously than they warranted.
Minutes later he was in the unit commander’s suite pouring coffee for Ammermann, who’d taken off his tie and was half-reclining on the settee reading the message. When he looked up Dan said, “Apparently somebody made an error, sent it routine. and it got delayed en route. That happens sometimes, when there’s a lot of traffic. I apologize.”
“A lot of message traffic? Why’s that?”
Dan started to explain, then hesitated. Could he really not know? And if he didn’t … “Look, that says you’re on your way, but it doesn’t give me a clearance level. And we’re … pretty busy right now, meeting our operational commitments. What exactly is it I can do for you, Jars?”
The staffer’s expression went earnest again, the way it had been on the flight deck. He threw the clipboard aside. “Apology accepted, Captain. I’m not the kind of guy who stands on ceremony. But it’s not what you can do for me. I’m here to help you. Direct liaison between you and the White House.”