“It’s chaos over here. Hundreds of armed troops are surrounding the palace. There must be fifty thousand civilians out in the square. A helicopter has landed on top of the palace. No way to get in or out right now other than by air, unless they clear these crowds out.” Lord, please protect her. “Any news on the ambassador or Commander Colcernian?”
“Nothing. We got the foreign minister’s office on the phone, but they say they don’t know anything from inside the palace other than the president has died.”
“They’re stonewalling, sir.”
“Can’t say that I disagree with that, Zack.”
“I’ve got to find a way to get inside.”
“Zack, don’t be crazy.”
He did not respond. Maybe he could wait until nightfall. Maybe his chances of penetrating the perimeter would increase under the cover of darkness. He had to get in.
“Zack, we need you back at the embassy.”
“Mr. Laredo, I’m fine. No one’s even noticed me.”
“I know you’re fine. I know that you’re going to be fine if you’re here or there. But, Zack, the ambassador’s gone. I need you here.”
“But…”
“Zack. There are things I need to talk to you about. Your country needs you here.”
Zack looked back across the square at the palace. Long shadows stretched across the mob of humanity, which had thickened even in the few minutes that he had been on the cell phone. The grim-faced soldiers pointed their weapons toward the crowd. The odd combination of euphoria and grief made for an explosive situation. One trigger-happy soldier could literally set fire to a massive sea of human gasoline.
How could he leave with such danger surrounding her?
“Zack?”
On the other hand, what good could he do by standing here and watching?
“Are you still there, Zack?”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, sir.”
The White House
5:30 a.m.
Gentlemen, I need military action,” Mack said, as he eyed the nation’s highest-ranking military officers, the members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who were seated in a semicircle just in front of the president’s desk. “And I need it now.”
“Just tell us what you need, Mr. President.” This was the commandant of the Marine Corps.
A swig of black coffee. Just what the doctor ordered. “Very well, General Grey. While the nation has been asleep, a madman has taken over Indonesia, exploded a nuclear weapon, probably taken out one of our warships, and is threatening to use his nuclear toys against us if we don’t cave to his ridiculous demands.
“On top of that, the Indonesian president has apparently been assassinated, our ambassador and our naval attaché are unaccounted for, and in the last couple of days the Malacca Strait and the city of Singapore have become environmental disasters.” Another swig of coffee.
“Gentlemen, no one bullies the United States with nuclear blackmail. Not even thinly veiled nuclear blackmail.” Mack slammed his fist on his desk. “Too many innocent lives are at stake. I want this guy taken out.” He paused. “Am I clear on that?”
The air force chief of staff glanced at the chief of naval operations. Admiral Jones, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, raised his eyebrow. “Mr. President,” the air force chief said, “are you suggesting assassination? Because if you are, sir, then perhaps the CIA would be best suited for that sort of thing.”
“Who said anything about assassination, General McPeak?” Mack glared at the air force general. His Kansas blood was boiling. It had been a long night. “Assassination is a violation of military law. I’m talking about swift, decisive military action. If the good general does not survive that action, then that makes him a casualty of war. If this Islamic madman, tinhorn dictator is a casualty of war, then I have no control over that.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Question, Mr. President.”
“General Grey,” Mack acknowledged the commandant of the Marine Corps.
“Sir, what’s your time frame for having this operation ready for execution?”
“A good question, General.” Mack scratched his chin. “This General Perkasa says we have”-Mack made quotation marks in the air- “twenty-four hours to enact all these UN resolutions he has demanded.” He checked his watch. “Therefore, I want to cut the snake off at the neck before he strikes.
“It’s now just after 6:00 A.M., gentlemen. I want you all to go down to the situation room with the secretary of defense. I want you to formulate a plan, and I want it on my desk for review no later than zero-eight-thirty this morning. I want to review the plan, approve it, and I want us to strike within the next twelve hours, under cover of darkness in Jakarta.”
The Joint Chiefs exchanged glances.
“Gentlemen, I know our timeframe is short, and I know I’m asking a lot of you. But there’s a verse in the Bible that goes something like, ‘to whom much is given, much is expected.’
“All of us in this room…me, the vice president, the secretary of defense, and each of you, have been given an extraordinary responsibility for the defense of this great nation and the defense of freedom, a responsibility that only a minute handful of people in our history have ever shouldered. There’s another verse in the Bible. It’s from Esther, and I want you to remember it as you go. It says, ‘Who knows but that you have come to the royal position for such a time as this.’
“Gentlemen, none of us are royal. We are but servants of the people. But all of us…each one of us…has been called to this place, to this task, for such a time as this.
“I want to take this guy out. And I want to take control of Merdeka Palace, and I want to find our people. Now.”
“Mister President,” Admiral Jones said, “we’ve been working most of the night, anticipating this very moment. We already have a plan in place, just waiting for your approval, sir.”
Mack smiled. “Admiral, I knew there was a good reason I appointed you as chairman. Let’s hear it.”
Chapter 14
US Navy EA-18G (“Growler 2”)
Over Christmas Island, south of Indonesia
6:15 p.m.
Reagan, Growler 2.”
“Go ahead, Growler 2.”
“Sir, we’ve got the Seahawks down below us, skimming the water at five hundred feet. Crossing Christmas Island now. We’re ready to initiate jamming of Jakarta airspace at your direction, sir.”
“Growler, Reagan. Maintain course three-one-five degrees. Initiate jamming on my mark in…three minutes. Stand by. Mark it!”
“Reagan, Growler. Mark it. T-minus three minutes to initiation of jamming sequence.”
“Growler. Reagan. Copy that. Two fifty-nine. Two fifty-eight. Two fifty-seven…”
The pilot looked off into the deep blue watery horizon, where the sun was setting into the Indian Ocean just left of the plane’s nose. As the countdown proceeded from the tower aboard Ronald Reagan, he pressed the transmission button for internal communication within the cockpit. “How’d you like to be an air traffic controller at Soekarno-Hatta International in about three minutes?”
“They better hope they’ve got eardrum insurance.” The electronics officer laughed. “It’s going to take a few minutes to get our choppers into Indonesian airspace undetected. We’ll keep the boom box blasting till they tell us to turn it off.”
“This’ll be fun.”
Soekarno-Hatta International Airport
Jakarta, Indonesia
6:18 p.m.
Singapore Air four-four-niner,” the controller said, “turn right zero-two-zero degrees, descend to three thousand and hold.”
“Four-four-niner, roger that. Turning right zero-two-zero degrees. Descending to three thousand.”
Buzzing hornets suddenly filled the headset. The controller ripped the headsets from his ears, as the amber radar screen went blank. “What the-”
“What’s that noise?” another controller yelled.