Acts of War oc-4 Read online

  "My heart grieves," Burkow said. "Seems to me they've got enough money to underwrite terrorism."

  "Largely because that's the only kind of pressure they can apply on rich nations," Lincoln said. "Suppose we give Syria the carrot before they sponsor further acts of terrorism. Specifically, we give them U.S. guaranteed credit at the Import Export Bank."

  "We can't do that!" Burkow shouted. "For one thing, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund have to okay any knockdown of debt burdens."

  "Donor countries can also write off loans to heavily indebted nations," Hood pointed out.

  "Only if the borrowing countries adopt strict market reforms which are monitored by the bank and the fund," Burkow shot back.

  "There are ways around that," Hood replied. "We can let them sell off gold deposits."

  "And end up buying them ourselves and thereby sponsoring the terrorists who are going to blow our asses up," Burkow said. "No, thanks." He looked back at Av Lincoln. "As long as Syria's on top of the list of terrorist nations, we are forbidden by law from giving them financial aid."

  "Nuking capital cities strikes you as lawful?" Hood asked.

  "In self-defense, yes," Burkow replied with disgust.

  "The State Department's annual report on terrorism hasn't had Syria directly involved in a terrorist attack since 1986," said Lincoln, "when Hafez al-Assad's air force intelligence chief organized the bombing of an El Al airliner from London."

  "Directly involved." Burkow laughed. "Oh, that's rich, Mr. Secretary. The Syrians are as guilty of terrorism as John Wilkes Booth was of showing Abraham Lincoln. And not only of terrorism, but of running drug-processing plants for cocaine paste and morphine in the Bekaa Valley, of producing high-quality counterfeit hundred-dollar bills—"

  "The issue is terrorism, Steve," Lincoln said. "Not cocaine paste. Not China. Not nuclear war. Stopping terrorism."

  "The issue," Burkow shouted back, "is giving financial aid to an enemy of this country! You don't want to waste them, that's one thing. But it doesn't mean we have to reward them."

  "A token twenty- or, thirty-million-dollar loan guarantee as, say, drought relief doesn't constitute aid and it isn't a reward," Lincoln said. "It's merely an incentive to whet their appetites for future cooperation. And coming now, a gesture like that might also help prevent a war."

  "Av, Steve," said the President, "all I'm interested in right now is containing and defusing this particular situation." The President looked at Hood. "Paul, I may want you to handle this. Who's your Middle East advisor?"

  Hood was caught by surprise. "Locally, I've got Warner Bicking."

  "The Kid from Georgetown," Rachlin said. "He was on the U.S. boxing team in the '88 summer Olympics. Got involved in that tiff over the Iraqi fighter who wanted to defect."

  Hood slipped Rachlin an annoyed look. "Warner is a good and trusted colleague."

  "He's a loose cannon," Rachlin said to the President. "He critiqued George Bush's policy on asylum on network TV while wearing red trunks and boxing gloves. The press called him 'the flyweight diplomat.' Made a joke of the entire affair."

  "I want a heavy hitter, Paul," the President said.

  "Warner's a good man," Hood said to the President. "But we've also used Professor Ahmed Nasr to work on many of our white papers."

  "I know that name."

  "You met him at the dinner for the Sheik of Dubai, Mr. President," Hood said. "Dr. Nasr was the one who left after dessert to help your son with his paper on pan-Turkism."

  "I remember him now." The President smiled. "What's his background?"

  "He used to be with the National Center for Middle East Studies in Cairo," Hood said. "Now he's with the Institute for Peace."

  "How would he play in Syria?"

  "He'd be very welcome there," said Hood, still confused. "He's a devout Muslim and a pacifist. He also has a reputation for honesty."

  "Hell," said Larry Rachlin, "I'm starting to lean toward Steve on this one. Mr. President, do we really want an Egyptian Boy Scout talking restraint with a terrorist state?"

  "We do when everyone else is running off half-cocked," the President said. He glanced at Burkow, but didn't rebuke him. Hood knew that he wouldn't. The men had been friends for too long and been through too many personal and professional crises together. Besides, Hood knew that the President welcomed Burkow saying the things that he, as the Commander-in-Chief, could not. "Paul," the President went on, "I'd like you to go to Damascus with Professor Nasr."

  Hood recoiled slightly. Larry Rachlin and Steve Burkow both sat up straight. Lincoln smiled.

  "Mr. President, I'm not a diplomat," Hood protested.

  "Sure you are," said Lincoln. "Will Rogers said that diplomacy is the art of saying 'nice doggie' until you can find a rock. You can do that."

  "You can also talk to the Syrians about intelligence and about banking," the President said. "That's exactly the kind of diplomacy I need right now."

  "Until we find a rock," Burkow muttered.

  "Frankly, Paul," the President continued. "I also can't afford to send anyone at cabinet level. If I do, the Turks will feel slighted. Personally, I'm as tired of being pushed around as Steve and Larry are. But we've got to try the low-key route. Mrs. Klaw will see that you have the appropriate policy papers to read on the flight. Where is Mr. Nasr?"

  "In London, sir," Hood said. "He's speaking at some kind of symposium."

  "You can pick him up there," the President said. "Dr. Nasr can fine-tune and help sell whatever you think will work. You can take that kid from GU if you'd like. This will also put you on the scene in case you need to help negotiate for the release of General Rodgers. Ambassador Haveles in Damascus will see to all the security arrangements."

  Hood thought about missing his daughter's piccolo solo tonight at school. He thought about how his wife would fear for him going into that part of the world at this particular time. And. he thought about both the challenge and pressure of being part of history, of helping to save lives instead of risking them.

  "I'll be on a plane this afternoon, sir," Hood said.

  "Thanks, Paul." The President looked at his watch. "It's one-thirty-two. General Vanzandt, Steve, we'll have the Joint Chiefs and Security Council meet in the Oval Office. at three o'clock. You want to move the battle group, General?"

  "I think it would be prudent, sir," Vanzandt said.

  "Then do it," said the President. "I also want options in the event of increased hostilities. We've got to keep this from spreading."

  "Yes, sir," General Vanzandt said

  The President rose, signaling the end of the meeting. He walked out with Burkow and General Vanzandt on either side, followed by Rachlin and Colon. Secretary of Defense Colon threw Hood a friendly salute as he left.

  As Hood sat alone at the conference table, collecting his thoughts, Av Lincoln walked over.

  "The first time I ever pitched in the Major Leagues," the Secretary of State told him, "it wasn't because I was ready for the job. It was because three other starters were sick, injured, or suspended. I was eighteen years old and scared spitless, but I won the game. You're smart, you're dedicated, you're loyal, and you've got a conscience, Paul. You're going to bat this assignment out of the ballpark."

  Hood rose. He shook Lincoln's hand. "Thanks, Av. I hope I don't dazzle everyone so much that you're out of a job."

  Lincoln smiled as they left the Situation Room together. "Considering the stakes, Paul, I hope you do."

  SEVENTEEN

  Monday, 8:17 p.m.,

  Oguzeli, Turkey

  Lowell Coffey was staring through the closed window of the passenger's side of the ROC as the dark countryside slipped by. Mary Rose was driving, and nervously tapping the steering wheel and humming Gilbert and Sullivan to herself, an appropriate piece that Coffey recognized from Iolanthe: "Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady."

  Coffey was anxious too, though he calmed himself by half shutting his eyes and picturing himself driving wi
th his father and brother across Death Valley. The three Coffey men always took days-long drives together. The Coffey Beans, his mother used to call them, because they were always packed together in a metal can. He would give just about anything to be able to do that again just one more time. The senior Coffey had died in a small-plane crash in 1983. Lowell's brother had graduated from Harvard two years later and moved to London to work in the U.S. Embassy. Their mother had gone with him. Since then, Coffey didn't feel as if he belonged to anything. He had gone to work for Op-Center not just to have some impact on peoples's lives, as he'd told Katzen, but also to feel as though he were part of a close-knit team. Yet even in the ROC, that sense of belonging wasn't quite there.

  What did it take to create that? he wondered. His father spoke of his bomber crew having had that intense camaraderie during World War II. There had been some of that in Coffey's college fraternity. What caused it? Danger? Enclosure? A common purpose? Years of being together? Probably a little of all of that, he decided. But despite their present situation — or perhaps because of it? — there was still a sense of dreamy contentment that came from lowering his lids just a little and pretending that his father was to his left and the mountains he knew were out there were the Panamint Range he had marveled at as a boy.

  Phil Katzen was sitting at Mary Rose's terminal in the ROC. He was watching the full-color map scroll by on her monitor. On Mike Rodgers's screen was a radar display of Turkish aircraft operating in central and southern Anatolia. Katzen turned to look at it every few seconds. There were no planes in the region as yet. If there were, he would have been forced to identify himself and do whatever he was told. The Operations and Protocol Manual was explicit about ROC activities in a war zone. The printout was on a clipboard in Katzen's lap.

  Section 17:

  ROC Operations in a War Zone

  Subsection 1:

  Undeclared War In Non-Combat Zone

  A. If the ROC is conducting surveillance or other passive operations at the invitation of a country which is attacked by an outside force, or at the invitation of a government which is attacked by insurrectional forces; and participation on behalf of the attacked country is legal pursuant to United States Law (see Section 9) and Administration policy, ROC personnel are free to operate away from the field(s) of combat and to work closely with the local military to provide whatever services are required, feasible, or ordered by the Director of Op-Center or the President of the United States. See Section 9C for legal operations under the National Crisis Management Center Charter.

  B. Any and all activities by ROC or ROC personnel as outlined in Section 17, Subsection 1A will be terminated at once if the ROC is ordered to depart the combat zone by a legally empowered officer or representative of the recognized government.

  C. If the ROC is present at the invitation of the attacking country in a conflict in which the United States is neutral, ROC personnel are to operate pursuant to United States Law (see Section 9A) and provide only those services which do not make the United States a participant in unlawful aggression (see Section 9B) or provide intelligence which is designed to protect the lives and property of United States citizens, so long as said action does not bring it into conflict with United States law (see Section 9A, Subsection 3) and the laws of the host country.

  Subsection 2:

  Undeclared War in Combat Zone

  A. If the ROC is present in a zone and is caught in a situation of armed conflict, the ROC and its personnel are to retreat with practical speed to a place of safety.

  1. If it is not possible to evacuate the ROC, it is to be disabled according to Section 1, Subsection 2 (self-disablement) or Section 12, Subsection 3 (external disablement).

  2. To remain in the combat zone, permission must be obtained from the legal and recognized government with jurisdiction over said region. Activities in this region are to conform strictly to United States law (see Section 9A, Subsection 4) and to the laws of the host country.

  a. Where these laws are in conflict, civilians are required to adhere to local law. Military personnel will follow military procedure and United States law.

  3. If the ROC is present in the combat zone, or enters a combat zone subsequent to the advent of hostilities; and if the stated purpose of said presence is to study events leading up to and/or including the armed conflict, only military personnel will be permitted to take an active part in the operation of the ROC. They will operate according to the boundaries set out in the NCMC Striker code, Sections 3 through 5.

  a. If non-military personnel are on the ROC, including but not limited to members of the press, they are not to partake in the activities of the ROC.

  B. If the ROC enters a combat zone subsequent to the breaking out of armed conflict, the regulations set forth in Section 17, Subsection 2A apply. In addition, ROC must have express permission to enter said region from the legal and recognized government or representatives of said government who have jurisdiction over the combat zone.

  1. Absent such permission, ROC can operate only as a civilian facility with its sole objective being the protection of the lives and safety of United States citizens.

  a. If said civilians are accompanied by United States military personnel, or if said personnel are the only or sole surviving team onboard the ROC, said personnel will in no way act as a partisan force in the present or evolving conflict, either against or on behalf of the host nation or to further any objectives, goals, or ideals of the government of the United States of America.

  1. Said military personnel may employ arms only in self-defense. Self-defense is herein defined as the defense by arms of United States personnel, military or otherwise, who have undertaken to depart the combat zone without attempting to affect the outcome of said combat.

  2. Said military personnel may employ arms in the defense of local citizens who are undertaking to exit the region, provided said citizens are not endeavoring to affect the outcome of said hostilities.

  According to Lowell Coffey, it was Section 17, Subsection 2, B-1-a-1, which gave them, as civilians, the right to go in and get Mike out. The question they'd wrestled with en route was whether bringing Colonel Seden out constituted a partisan act. Because he was a Turkish soldier who had entered the region with partisan intent, he was not covered by Section 17, Subsection 2, B-1-a-2. However, Coffey said that as long as the colonel was hurt, his evacuation would be acceptable in accordance with the charter of the International Red Cross. According to Section 8, Subsection 3, A-1-b-3, ROC was permitted under to act under the IRC charter to evacuate wounded outsiders at the discretion of the individual in charge.

  With just over five minutes to go until they reached the reported location of Mike Rodgers and Colonel Seden, Privates Pupshaw and DeVonne were crouched in the battery cabinets under the raised floorboards. Most of the batteries had been removed and stacked to the side to accommodate the Strikers. As a result, except for the radio, radar, and telephone, the inner workings of the ROC were dead. It was also running on fuel instead of on batteries.

  The Strikers hid black nighttime uniforms in a cabinet in the rear of the ROC along with a powerful M21, a sniper version of the M14 combat rifle, an image-intensifier eyepiece. These twin-lens units were designed to be clamped to the front of their helmets. In addition to providing night-vision capabilities, the eyepieces were electronically linked to an infrared sensor on top of each soldier's M21. These sensors were the size of a small video camera, and were capable of identifying targets at 2,200 meters, even behind foliage. The visual data was then relayed to the right-side eyepiece. In a field situation, computers in the Strikers' backpacks would send a monochrome display of maps and other data to the right-side eyepiece. When they emerged from hiding, the plan was for Private DeVonne to immediately retrieve the gear, while PFC Pupshaw reconnoitered through a one-way mirrored window in the back. Though Katzen was in charge of the mission, he had put PFC Pupshaw in charge of the actual rescue attempt, as allowed for by the ROC manual.
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  "Five minutes to target," Katzen said.

  The Strikers snuggled down in their compartments. Coffey went over and helped them replace the compartment tops. After making sure the Strikers were all right, he walked toward Katzen.

  "Good thing they're not claustrophobic," Coffey said.

  "If they were," said Katzen, "they wouldn't be Strikers."

  Coffey watched as the map on the computer monitor scrolled ominously toward the target hill. At least, it seemed ominous to the attorney.

  "I have a question," Coffey said.

  "Shoot, counselor."

  "I've been wondering. Just what is the difference between a porpoise and a dolphin?"

  Katzen laughed. "Mostly it has to do with the body shape and face," he said. "Porpoises are shaped pretty much like a torpedo with spade-like teeth and a blunt snout. Dolphins have a more fish-shaped body, peg-like teeth, and a snout that looks like a beak. Temperamentally, they're pretty much identical."

  "But dolphins seem more lovable because they look less predatory," Coffey said.

  "They do, yes," said Katzen.

  "Maybe the military should think about that when they design the next generation of submarines and tanks," Coffey said. "They can lull the enemy into complacency with a submarine that looks like Flipper or a tank that looks like Dumbo."

  "If I were you, I'd stick to law," Katzen said. He looked toward the front of the van. "Heads up, Mary Rose. According to the map you should be coming up on the rise any moment now."

  "I see it," she said.

  The small of Coffey's back went ice-cold. This wasn't the same as the jitters he got when he went before a judge or a senator. This was fear. The van went down the sharp dip before the rise. Coffey used both hands to brace himself on the back of Mike Rodgers's empty chair.

  "Shit!" Mary Rose shouted, and crushed the brake down.

  "What is it?" Katzen cried.

  Coffey and Katzen both looked out the window. A dead sheep was lying in the center of the road. The carcass was the size of a Great Dane and had coarse, dirtywhite wool. In order to stay on the narrow road and avoid the ditches on either side, a driver would have to go over it.