by Doug Walker
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
For a time, politics, family life, friends, all was well with the world. Life hummed along like a well-oiled sewing machine. Mary Warren, Katrina and Orson would gather at the town house for family times. The Secret Service had vetted all the staff plus the tutors who would come and go.
During that time, Jake, the head of the security unit, would spend his time in the kitchen chatting up Cook who plied him with goodies. His plump form made even plumper.
The twins had moved beyond the toddler stage and would race about the gathered company, unless occupied with a tutor. There had been constant wrangling over languages, which resulted in French, German, Spanish, Arabic and Chinese all being thrust on Alice and Dan. Their age was considered the ideal time to learn foreign tongues, but five of them seemed a bit much. Regardless, no end of negotiations had been able to reduce the number to three.
Then there were weekends at Camp David with the whole gang on board, including tutors.
There had also been a detente reached in relations among the three major players. The trio was aging and decided to come to grips with facts. On a weekly basis it was decided Orson would pull one all-nighter with the President, while Katrina would do another.
This, only if state dinners, receptions and so forth didn’t stand in the way. The agreement was general, but flexible. Meanwhile, both Orson and Katrina were expected to attend all major White House functions. They would always been seen together as a couple.
Of course there were rumors, delicious rumors, much to the delight of all three principles. Washington thrived on rumors.
Orson had his day-to-day duties, attending CIA briefings, conferring with Lucy Lapin, the genuine chief of staff, putting out brushfires. But his major talent lay in handling fairly delicate foreign missions. He could at least understand several languages and speak two or three with some fluency.
So it came to pass that the President called him into her office for just such a project, first advising her secretary to hold all calls.
“Oh for the good old days of the Cold War,” was her entry remark.
“We could attack someone,” Orson countered. “I’d suggest Texas.”
“Too difficult. They have more guns down yonder than the Marines. Our problem is we don’t have an enemy. You and I have to create one.”
“You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
“What about Cuba?”
“Come on. I’d like to normalize our relations with that island. Give them Gitmo. Join them for a few rum and Cokes. Russia was large enough to be a threat. Actually, the Soviet Union. China has growled at us now and then. That might be the target, Orson. What do you think?”
He rubbed his hand on his scarred face. His days as a stealth or undercover operator were long gone. “You want me to create some sort of incident?”
“I’d rather not have anyone killed.”
“That might be hard to avoid.”
“How about getting a young woman raped? Maybe a Peace Corps volunteer?”
“Frankly, Mary. That has happened quite often. The Peace Corps is skilled at covering up such tragedies. And that sort of thing is strictly third world.”
“The Peace Corps was in China. Are they still there?”
“I’d have to check. But the Peace Corps takes its own chances. I really don’t want to screw around with them, or screw over them. They recruit a strange lot.”
“Maybe Pakistan,” the President suggested.
“Good point. They’d like to bomb our ass and they do have the bomb. But they are supposedly our ally. So is India, their nemesis. I’m sure you know we have troops deployed in more than one hundred countries, thousands of nuclear weapons and spend billions more on defense than any country in the world. No one would dare openly attack us.”
“Of course I know all those things. I also know the average American voter would have a hard time pointing out Korea, or Norway on a world map. But they do become aroused if someone provokes us. How many military personnel were we losing in Iraq and Afghanistan on a weekly basis? Yet only the immediate families really cared.
“But a consulate was attacked, four fairly high-level lives lost. Congress made a big deal out of it and it splashed over the media for weeks. The media is our ally. Create an incident and we jump on it. Congress jumps on it. The media is our ally. They are like dogs fighting over a sensational bone. They take what passes as the truth and advance ten steps beyond. Hearst took credit for starting the Spanish-American war.”
“But why do we need an enemy?” Orson was fairly happy with the way things were going, the steady hum of tranquility.
“To focus the public attention away from the real problems of poverty, unemployment, racism, exorbitant health care costs and so on. We don’t need a war, but we do need an enemy. Also the military will love it. We can deploy a few destroyers, maybe an aircraft carrier. Alert the Marines and the Green Berets. Do we still have Green Berets?”
“I don’t know. You’re Commander in Chief.”
“I’ll get together with the military and go over a few things. I’ll need a briefing first. Check on the Green Berets for me, Orson. Be a good fellow.”
“Ok. And I’ll dig up someone to be our enemy. There was a film, The Mouse That Roared. A tiny country declared war on us briefly, then surrendered and appealed for foreign aid.”
“We probably spend too much on the military. Not probably, we actually do. But if we try to close a base there’s an uproar from the Congress. Those directly impacted cry out and their colleagues join them, thinking they might be next. Maybe the way to really help people is to get out of office, use my Foundation. Katrina’s doing superb work. We’re already helping educate poor students right here in the District.”
“She’s proud of her role,” Orson said, and then hurried off to study becoming an agent provocateur.
Finding a worthy enemy was no picnic. Challenging Russia, or China might lead to an actual war. There were South and Central American countries that might fill the bill, but none with substantial military presence. Africa was also not a candidate. Sub-Saharan countries struggled among themselves against tribal differences and poverty.
Orson finally settled on Japan.
“Japan!” the President replied. “Those small islands?”
“Those small islands overshadow the U.K., which once held dominion over palm and pine. They are larger than Poland. They also attacked us in 1941, creating quite a bloody mess. They’re also disliked for killing whales and worshiping animals. They have a history of persecuting Christians, and there now seems to be a revival of the Samurai spirit, or Bushido, the so-called soul of Japan, or the way of the warrior.”
“I know there’s always been a right wing, nationalistic movement. Frankly, it could be a double-edged sword. An opportunity to remove our troops and their dependent baggage. We would likely save millions.”
“Not millions,” Orson replied. “Billions. The USFJ or Zainichi Beigun as our forces are called number more than 30,000 plus over 5,000 civilians. The 7th Fleet is at Yokosuka, the Third Marines on Okinawa. We have 130 fighter aircraft at Misawa and Kadena air base.”
The President considered Orson’s story seriously. “There are plans to redeploy some Marines to Guam and maybe Hawaii, but these military plans seem forever pending. Glacial.”
“Meanwhile,” Orson continued, “There’s been all sorts of life-taking vehicular accidents and sexual crime. Many Japanese are hopping mad. Which leads to our fear of a serious incident. Of course we employe many Japanese, which adds to their economy. And the Japanese government pays us about two billion dollars annually in a so-called sympathy budget, or as they put it, Omoiyari Yosan. A drop in the bucket, but enough to enrage a segment of the population. We’re protecting them from what? They conquered Korea and most of China before World War Two. They are an aggressive, military nation.”
The President actually rose from her chair and strode around the room. “By God, Orson, yo
u’ve put together a pretty package. We’ll begin pulling all of our troops out of Japan immediately.” She began to laugh. “Our Marines are supposed to be able to move lightning swift at a moment’s notice. We should have them on Guam or back in California next week. It’s generally against their policy to have overseas bases. We’ll do it, Orson.”
“And my role?” he questioned.
“Of course, your role. Go to Tokyo, get a hotel room, contact no one. Watch and keep in touch. Read the English language papers, watch TV. You understand Japanese?”
“I can make sense out of the spoken word. The printed words, no.”
“So, TV. Chats with the concierge and coffee shop chums. Pick up on the tempo, what’s coming down. When we begin withdrawing at a rapid rate, there’ll be reaction. I’ll have the press secretary drop hints about a rise in Japanese nationalism and the fear that the so called defense force has been transformed, much as Hitler rearmed Germany before the war. You’ll be my eyes and ears in Japan.”
“Good plan. I’ll get my own ticket, like a tourist.”
The President smiled. “But stay away from the geishas and the soaplands. Remember, you belong to Katrina and me.”
