Oracle's Diplomacy

by A. Claire Everward

  “The split was deliberately done in such a way so as to ensure complete separation. Which was why the original divides, which would have meant the two parts of Srpska would have continued to be entirely separated by Bosnia in between them, were not kept, but rather the country was newly split in two, with a single border stretching from Brčko District, the country’s self-governing administrative unit, to Croatia on the opposite side. Bosnia, which was closer to the West, took the north, and Srpska took the south. The split was done in a way that each of the two warring nations received the same area size it had prior to it, and the new border was created along existing roads, to facilitate monitoring and control.

  “As for Brčko District, it was badly hit in the war, neither side respecting its self-governing status, both of them stripping it of much of its area. The different ethnicities in it ended up having to retreat, each to their own safety of numbers in Srpska and Bosnia. Most people, at least. Some stayed, insisting Brčko District should have its status back. And that’s in essence what happened, as part of the split. A new border was negotiated for Brčko and it became a self-governing demilitarized district protected by both new countries. It was a natural choice, too, because of its location.

  “IDSD Diplomacy assisted in the necessary relocation and rebuilding of whole cities and rural villages, where residents chose to move. For most people their homes, their livelihoods had been destroyed anyway, with too many dead, too many memories for them to remain where they were. It was a difficult decision to reach, but the two nations—unfortunately that’s how they perceived themselves, as two separate nations—agreed that the mutual independence would be better than another war. And so many had been displaced by the wars, that it was a decision the people were willing to make to attain a safer, permanent home. By then, none of them had any hope things could ever go back to the way it was before the wars.

  “Still, it was a difficult feat to undertake, one carefully done, with ample resources and complete transparency. And for some years it seemed that the two nations might take a new, separate course. However, tensions remained high, and eventually, a little more than three years ago, the cold conflict once again threatened to escalate into war. And this time, threats issued made us believe that it might also cross the border to the northwest, to Croatia, which is a member of Joint Europe and therefore a member of the alliance, and the one to the south, to Montenegro. Montenegro isn’t a member of Joint Europe, but it has joined the alliance independently after we protected it back when the Russian Federation reached it in its renewed attempt to take over Southeastern Europe. Montenegro is already more than a little concerned about the prospect of another war on its borders.”

  Scholes nodded, adding, “The way that last conflict escalated had the clear markings of outside intervention, the deliberate meddling of an external hand. A village in the heart of Bosnia was attacked, and the attack mirrored a little too closely the attacks that began the first war. The only living witnesses were the village elders. Everyone else—men, women and children—was murdered. There were, the witnesses said, no insignia, no identifying marks, on the clothes worn by the attackers. But they had, apparently, accidentally identified themselves as Serbs by speaking that language.”

  “The attack sparked a reaction of shock and disbelief from the Bosniaks and the entire world,” Hughes continued. “It was followed by more, equally sporadic attacks, all in Bosnia, spread over a period of several weeks. The Bosniaks went from shock to anger to hate. Old feelings erupted, and Srpska’s claims that it wasn’t behind the attacks fell on deaf ears. The hostility between the two countries spun out of control. We had our suspicion as to who was behind the renewed tensions, but there was no reasoning with the two sides, and there was no hope of avoiding a war. In fact, at the time, we were already working with Joint Europe to bolster our defense forces at the Split base and were mobilizing forces to protect the Croatian and Montenegrin borders. And I remind you that to the east, Srpska, the southern of the two countries, now shares its border with the Russian Federation.” Jeffries paused, allowing the meaning of what he was saying to sink in.

  “A regional war was a certainty. Or at least, that was what everyone thought. Even though Bosnia and Srpska are not a part of the alliance, Ambassador Sendor was asked to travel to the region, and he did, to see if he might, perhaps, get the two countries to talk, and, in the meantime, to undertake not to involve their neighbors in their dispute. And he succeeded. That war never broke out. Somehow, the ambassador prevented it, and he has been working to resolve the conflict between the two countries ever since. He ended up foregoing his scheduled commission and had taken it upon himself to save the two nations.

  “That’s what he’s been doing since, for two and a half years now. And in the past year, he got dialogue within and between them to change. They initiated trade relations and established joint committees to promote their economic recovery, and he eventually got them to agree to a peace treaty. In fact, the last of the formal peace talks ended early the day of his abduction. And while we’ve been searching for him, both sides expressed their full support of the final terms he had agreed with them. The peace treaty only needs to be signed. At least, that was the case until he was taken.”

  The expression on Jeffries’s face was no longer calm as a frown crossed his brow. He passed a hand through his meticulously combed blond hair. “The implications of this are unthinkable. The last war, before Bosnia-Herzegovina was finally split in two, had been horrific, with both sides committing atrocities we couldn’t believe, equal only to the acts of the first war, a war that left more than a hundred thousand dead, two million displaced, innocents who were left unable to live a normal life again. These were dark times, and the two nations were scarred beyond repair.” He shook his head. “All those terrible decades. We finally gave them hope. If war breaks out again now . . .”

  Donovan listened raptly. He hadn’t known any of this, hadn’t known much at all about these two countries, or their history. But he did remember the news about the imminent threat of war, endless broadcasts with urgency in the words of journalists forecasting the inevitable, forbidding images of the previous two wars playing in the background. And then things seemed to slowly cool down. While between the people hate still raged, the governments of both countries began to speak differently, soothingly. The militaries followed. And slowly, so very slowly, the moderate tone began to reach the people.

  But it was only a few months before that, just like everyone else in the world, Donovan heard the name George Sendor, the Internationals ambassador who was succeeding where no one else had, who was making two nations full of hate and distrust not only slow down, but actually stop and think. He was making them listen. And he wasn’t trying to attain another uneasy ceasefire—he had brokered true peace, a new beginning to a path he had carefully planned well into the future to ascertain its success, to ensure that for future generations the hate and wars would only be a history lesson taught in classrooms.

  And now he was gone.

  “Any leads, sir?” Donovan asked.

  “None.” It was IDSD HQ Intelligence’s Office of Special Investigations Special Agent in Charge Marcus Emero, sitting beside Jeffries, who responded. “There was nothing inside the jet or outside it. No useful trace evidence, and all bullets recovered from the bodies were untraceable. The jet landed close to the edge of the artificial platform constructed for Cres after the main island was hit by that earthquake that destroyed it eleven years ago. A stable, rigid surface that could easily take a landing from an aircraft of that size. No clues anywhere around, other than indications that the ambassador might have been taken off Cres via the sea.” His black eyes rested on Donovan, assessing him. “I understand, Agent Pierce, that you have a death that is similar to those on the jet?”

  “US Air Force Major Joseph Berman, the ARPA-IDSDATR liaison in a level five project, was found dead this morning in an ARPA storage subbasement. One shot to the back of the head, no
weapon found. Security cameras and motion sensors were deactivated and then reactivated again at a cascading sequence, no one noticed it because of the low-priority of that part of the building. The only reason Berman was found was that the last-sector security camera didn’t resume working, and security eventually went down to check it and made the rounds just to make sure nothing was wrong.”

  Emero nodded. He didn’t like the fact that an outsider, USFID, was brought in, but this investigator, he seemed to be thorough.

  “Which brings me to a no less troubling matter.” Emero glanced at Jeffries, who nodded his consent to the disclosure. “We now know that control of the aircraft was taken while it was still in the air, and not by anyone on board but by an external system. The jet was then downed using this same system.” He paused. “Our system. Our technology, to be exact.”

  “Ours how?” On the screen next to the one with the Brussels participants, the head of the military component at IDSD’s peacekeeping base in Brčko District, Major General Zachary Slaviek, frowned.

  Emero looked at Donovan as he answered. “It’s a joint ARPA-IDSDATR project, nearing operational stage.”

  Donovan nodded his understanding of the reference to his investigation. Sirion.

  “So, you’re certain.” Helios had been told by Jeffries earlier that day, in a call attended also by his second-in-command, about the technology suspected as having been used in the ambassador’s abduction. But he had also been told that Emero had yet to speak to the head of the project on IDSD’s end, to confirm his suspicion. Which he had obviously done. His brow furrowed. He was in this meeting in his capacity as the representative of the head of the High Council, but he was also George Sendor’s friend, and all too aware of the uncertainty as to his fate, his and that of the innocent lives he had worked so hard to save.

  “Wait.” He suddenly caught on. “Nearing operational stage? But it was used. And apparently all too successfully so.”

  “Whoever used it has obviously taken it through its final development stages, making it operational. The ARPA-IDSDATR project team has already tested it, yes, but their current version can’t be used in the field yet.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters either way,” Helios said. “If this comes out, consensus might well be that it was us, that we did it on purpose. That the Internationals and the United States are sabotaging the treaty, and the alliance that had placed itself behind it. Considering the volatility of the situation, this would have serious repercussions.” He clenched his fist, the motion betraying the true emotion behind the quiet tone of his voice. “We cannot allow this to happen. And yet, does anyone have any idea how we stop this? Ambassador Sendor is gone, we have no idea where he is or even if he’s still alive, and someone—and we have no idea who—is apparently framing us for this.” He fell silent. There was nothing else to be said.

  “Excuse me,” Slaviek said, breaking the silence. He was looking not at them but to the side, “you’ll want to see this. A government-owned Russian television station has apparently aired . . . Right. That’s not good.” He seemed to be listening to someone else in his office. “I’m told this is already being tagged by the major media outlets here, both in Srpska and in Bosnia. Ah, no, everybody is already picking it up. I’ll let you see for yourself.” He nodded to whoever was there off-screen and was instantly replaced by a somber-looking news anchor, speaking Russian. The broadcast was automatically translated.

  “. . . We understand that the ambassador was on his way from Brčko District, where the peace talks have been taking place, to Brussels. The United States and the Internationals’ executive body, IDSD, have refused to explain how it is that the diplomatic aircraft was downed using their proprietary technology, or to defend their involvement in the ambassador’s death. Nor would they explain why they have chosen to withhold the information about what happened for so long. Again, Ambassador George Sendor, the Internationals’ envoy to the peace talks between Republika Srpska and Bosnia, has been found dead two days ago after the aircraft he was traveling in was downed over Croatia.”

  In Brussels, Jeffries nodded grimly. “That’s it then. It’s out.”

  Beside him, Emero cursed under his breath and stood up. “With your permission, sir,” he said, deferring to Jeffries, and when Jeffries nodded his consent he continued. “Let’s see if we can find who the hell tipped them off. General Slaviek,”—he addressed the IDSD representative at Brčko—“if I may, sir, I will transfer this call to my office, we’ll continue the conversation there. I’ll update you as soon as I have anything,” he said to those present at the IDSD US conference room, nodding at Donovan and deferring to the two heads of IDSD US and to the director of US Global Intelligence.

  “Yes. Yes, of course.” Slaviek, who was not only the person trying to hold everything together on the volatile Srpska-Bosnia border, but was also born in what used to be Bosnia-Herzegovina and had experienced first-hand some of the harsh episodes in its history, was still looking at the news broadcast in his office, his brow deeply furrowed.

  “I ask you to excuse us both at this time,” Jeffries said, his voice controlled. “I need to update Head of the High Council Stevenssen. It appears we now have no choice but to resort to further action, diplomatic and perhaps also otherwise.”

  As the two screens blanked, Brussels and Brčko gone to face front-line events, those remaining in the conference room at IDSD Missions in Washington, DC, somberly contemplated what the head of IDSD HQ Intelligence meant.

  “Who knew about the ambassador’s disappearance? Before this news broadcast, I mean.” Donovan asked. The secret had had to be kept, but IDSD was not one to let two days go by without preparing for contingencies.

  It was Helios who answered, his tone preoccupied. “Since earlier today, Brussels time, the Joint Europe civilian and military commands, and alliance members who might in any way be affected by the situation. Everyone who needed to know.”

  “Including . . . ?”

  “Including the prime ministers of Srpska and Bosnia, yes. They, however, have been kept informed throughout the duration,” Helios said and stood up with a deep sigh. “Frank?”

  Scholes nodded and added, as Helios left the conference room, “The heads of IDSD worldwide have also been kept appraised of the situation, since they are responsible for the Internationals living in their respective jurisdictions. Good thing, too. This news leak about the origin of the technology used to down the ambassador’s jet and the claim that we have hidden his death both mean that the repercussions of this incident might well be felt outside the disputed region. There are Internationals in many places, and they need to be protected.”

  He passed a hand on his face, his expression weary. “General Slaviek has had the peacekeeping force in Brčko District at high alert since the ambassador’s jet disappeared, but we couldn’t provide them with immediate backup, this would have let on that something was going on. We will do so now, see that the necessary forces are at Split to assist them if it comes to that. They need to be prepared, now that the news has been made known this way to the two nations they are monitoring. Worse, since the prime ministers also knew and have hidden the information from their people—they’ve only informed their governments and the heads of the militaries—that might have repercussions for them, too.

  “We will also be deploying on the Croatian and Montenegrin borders of the disputed region. Obviously, this too could not be done until now, but we’ve already made preparations at our Mons air base and will now be deploying part of the alliance defense forces there to the Split base, it’s ready to receive them. We’ve all scaled back all other non-urgent initiatives. The alliance drill in the Baltic Sea has been canceled, all navy ships are returning to European ports and fighter jets are being redeployed either to Mons or to secondary bases in the countries closest to the disputed region. We’re ready, we’ve had this planned back when the risk of war still existed, before the ambassador came to the region. As you can imagine, our E
urope front has been busy.” That was how the alliance did things, something that the Internationals had started. Politics would take a backseat to the military and diplomatic professionals, who would discuss the situation among themselves and set out the optimal layout and possible reaction scenarios aimed at a peaceful outcome backed by unwavering strength.

  Donovan turned to look at the war room outside. It looked too busy not to be actively involved in this, nowhere near the hushed hum he remembered from the last time he was here.

  Scholes saw him look. “While Brussels will be the heart of the diplomatic efforts to contain the situation and the heads of alliance militaries in affected countries will run defense and security with the rest of the alliance prepared to assist, we, as the main IDSD Missions, will receive concentrated updates from everyone and run oversight and mission guidance. We’ll be the ones looking at the situation from above as it evolves. Which is what we’ve in fact been doing since this morning. There was a reason this specific meeting of these specific hands-on persons took place here.”

  “With the origin of the technology that downed the jet out, Americans worldwide might also be at risk,” Evans said thoughtfully. “And since we stand beside the Internationals on this, and our military forces are right there alongside yours and everyone else who will be deployed to the disputed region, I imagine this is about to go from bad to worse for us too.”

  Scholes nodded. “IDSD’s branches worldwide, and especially in Europe, are looking out not only for Internationals but for all alliance innocents, with emphasis on US citizens, considering your shared role in this.”

  Evans gestured his dismissal of the comment as obvious. What the vice admiral said was, quite simply, IDSD’s way, and another reason why the unique body, and the Internationals in general, were unequivocally trusted.

  And that, ironically, made the current situation so much more dangerous for them. Inevitably, there would be those who would be convinced by blunt, uncompromising rhetoric that the Internationals really did have something to do with what happened to the ambassador, and disillusionment tended to be a powerful path to hate.