by Dale Brown
“I think we’ve seen enough,” the President’s chief of staff, Victoria Collins, said, taking an apprehensive glance outside. “Perhaps we should head back, Mr. President,” she said nervously.
“Suck it up, Vicki,” they heard, just barely audible above the roar of the helicopter’s rotors.
Collins turned angrily to the third passenger in the President’s compartment. “What did you say, Chamberlain?”
“I said, ‘Suck it up, Vicki,’ ” National Security Adviser Robert Chamberlain said in an exasperated voice. “It means, we’re here to gather information and get a firsthand sense of the destruction here, not to soothe your sensibilities. It means as bad as you feel now, there are thousands of Americans down there who are suffering. So suck it up, Vicki!”
“How dare you talk to me like that?”
“I dare, Miss Collins, because you want to cut this important inspection short because your delicate little tummy can’t stand the sight of a nuclear blast just a few thousand meters away. I dare, Miss Collins, because somebody needs to tell you to put aside your fear and queasiness and do your fucking job.”
“All right, that’s enough,” the President interjected. “This is no time to be sniping at each other.” The President picked up the intercom and spoke to the pilot, and in fifteen minutes they were on the ground at Houston-Hobby Field. After a few more meetings with military, state, and federal investigation, security, and disaster relief officials aboard Air Force One, the President and his staff were airborne once again, heading back to Washington.
Aboard Air Force One, the President and his advisers were assembled in the large conference room. Only Chamberlain and Collins were with the President—the rest of the Cabinet and military advisers were present via secure video teleconference, dispersed to various safe Continuity of Government locations around the northeast and mid-Atlantic region for their security. The President first turned to General Charles Lanier, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “Update on our defense response, General?”
“Fully implemented, sir,” Lanier replied. “Complete shutdown of all major civil and commercial air, sea, and land gateways. Full mobilization underway of all National Guard and Reserve units to help secure the borders, ports, petro-gas facilities, chemical plants, and major utilities. All current air and coast defense units are on full alert, and we’re adding three new air, coastal, or border defense units per day. In less than two weeks we’ll be on full wartime continental defense configuration. We’ve gotten an average of one thousand new enlistments per hour since Kingman City in active, Reserve, and Guard branches, and there’s no letup. The American people are responding like nothing we’ve seen since World War Two.”
“Everyone is going through normal background screening and training though, correct, General?” Chamberlain asked.
“Yes, of course,” Lanier responded. “Our backlogs are long but we’re ramping up and increasing our capability every day. We’re not cutting corners, just increasing capacity, slowly but surely.”
“Good. What about inspection routines?”
“Ramping up slowly but surely as well, sir,” Lanier said. “Reserve Forces units are working with Homeland Security agencies to set up one hundred percent cargo inspections.”
“Donna?”
“We’re already up to eighty percent of all air cargo and twenty percent of all sea cargo being inspected before entry,” Secretary of Homeland Security Donna Calhoun responded via video. “There’s a tremendous backlog of containers, but many shipments were stopped after Kingman City, so the disruption was already mitigated. I’m thankful for the quick Reserve Forces mobilization.”
“George?”
“Same with the prosecutors and the FBI,” Attorney General George Wentworth said. “We’re getting thousands of applicants for positions and lots of retired and former employees returning every day. The offices are bursting at the seams and it looks like total chaos out there, but the people are hunkering down and getting the job done. Everyone knows we’re under attack now, and they’re doing everything they can to help. I want to congratulate Mr. Chamberlain for proposing that call for volunteers, sir—we were ready when we needed to be. I’d hate to think of the mess we’d be in now if we didn’t have that big influx of volunteers after you made your speech.”
“I add my thanks as well,” the President said. “Now, I need some clearheaded opinions on what to do next. Let’s hear it.”
“Whoever did this has to pay, Mr. President, and pay dearly,” Chamberlain said bitterly. He turned to Collins and asked, “What about the President’s proposal of asking Congress for a declaration of war on terrorism, Vicki?”
“The status is still the same, Bob,” Collins shot back acidly. She turned to the President: “It’s still being staffed, Mr. President. The White House, Justice, State, Defense, and congressional counsels have been meeting for weeks with no consensus.”
“What’s the holdup?” Chamberlain asked.
“Simple: we don’t have anyone to declare war on,” Collins said. “You can’t legally declare war on an activity or a concept. Even Israel has never declared war on organizations such as the Palestine Liberation Organization or Hezbollah, no matter how deadly they are. You can only declare war on another nation.”
“You of course have read that in the statutes, Miss Collins?”
“It’s not in the law, Mr. Chamberlain, but it’s common sense and logical,” Collins said.
“State agrees,” Secretary of State Christopher Parker chimed in, speaking via secure videoconference from a Continuity of Government location in Virginia. “Organizations that operate within a particular country take on the legal status of that country. Countries like Libya and Syria sanctioned and even supported groups we considered ‘terrorists’ for many years. The U.S. can declare war on that country in retaliation for something an extremist organization does while operating there, but it is incorrect to declare war on the organization itself.”
“Justice does not agree,” Attorney General George Wentworth interjected. “The invasion of Afghanistan to eliminate the Taliban and al Qaeda was a combat operation against a terrorist organization…”
“But the Taliban was never considered the legitimate government in Afghanistan,” Collins argued, “and we certainly did not ‘declare war’ on either the Taliban or al Qaeda…”
“What about Hamas in Libya and Lebanon, al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Iraq…?”
“Making war and declaring war are two different things, Mr. Chamberlain, and you know it,” Collins interjected. “The President has full authority to take action against anyone or anything that threatens the peace and security of the United States, within the limits of the War Powers Act. But if the President wants authority and funding to pursue terrorists around the world for the next ten years, he needs an act of Congress.”
“In your opinion.”
“In my opinion, yes,” Collins said, “but so far the staff concurs.”
“You concur because it’s the safest and most politically nonconfrontational path, not because it’s right,” Chamberlain admonished. He turned to the President and went on, “Mr. President, I believe you can act at any time. The rumors have been circulating for weeks that you intend to do this: TV commentators have been examining the issue from top to bottom and I haven’t seen one roadblock presented yet…”
“Except the fact there’s no legal precedent for it,” Collins interjected. “Mr. President, let the staff do their job. Delay your decision awhile longer. Let us keep the topic alive with hints, rumors, and questions, and let the press and the pundits address the questions for us.”
“And how many more attacks do we have to endure like this before we act, Miss Collins?”
“What about your Task Force TALON?” Collins asked with the same acidity with which Chamberlain queried her. “That was supposed to be the prototype antiterrorist unit, sweeping out around the world hunting down the bad guys, and as far as anyone knows they’re
still sitting on their hands in New Mexico.”
“They are most certainly not ‘sitting on their hands’…!”
“My last report tells me that there is a significant policy and leadership rift between the people you chose for that unit,” Collins said. “I’ve been told that half the unit doesn’t even train together and there is almost constant infighting because of a general disagreement on how the unit should be organized, led, and deployed.”
“Where are you getting this information, Collins?” Chamberlain asked. “Have you been briefed by either myself or Sergeant Major Jefferson…?”
“That’s not important. What is important is if the information is accurate or not. Is it?”
The President looked at Chamberlain, silently ordering him to answer. Chamberlain shot Collins an evil glare, but nodded toward the commander in chief. “There has been some…friction between the military and nonmilitary elements, Mr. President,” he conceded. “That was expected and it is being cleared up as we speak.”
“Robert, everything hinges on that team being ready when I go before the congressional leadership to announce my intention to ask for a declaration of war against terrorism,” the President said, the concern evident in his voice. “We have to be ready to act as soon as I get the vote, and I mean out the door and in action, not just ‘ready’ to get started. What’s the problem?”
“It’s the first dedicated full collaboration between the military special-ops community and federal law enforcement, sir—there were bound to be difficulties in establishing set procedures, tactics, chains of command, and exchange of intelligence,” Chamberlain said. “We’re attempting something that’s never been tried before: one command that controls both civil and military personnel, rather than two separate entities that attempt to work together but in fact have completely different priorities and procedures.”
“They’re all professionals, and they’re all federal employees—they know how to follow orders, don’t they?” Collins asked. “Just tell them to get their asses in gear and get the job done!”
“It’s not as simple as that, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said. “They are professionals, and the last thing they need is an un-elected bureaucrat from Washington with no military or intelligence training telling them how to do their jobs…”
“Then maybe we picked the wrong man to form this task force,” Collins interjected.
“I serve at the pleasure of the President, same as you—he can remove me at any time and for any reason,” Chamberlain shot back at her. “But it goes to show how little you know of how experts work…”
“Experts? Mr. Chamberlain, correct me if I’m wrong, but you picked a young female FBI agent with very little field experience, and a young army major with absolutely no field experience, to lead this task force…”
“I picked a dedicated group of professionals with unique talents to head this task force, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said resolutely. “I have every confidence in their abilities.” An Air Force communications officer dropped a message in front of him. While glancing at the message, Chamberlain went on, “It’ll just take time to get them ready for action. They will…” His facial expression became more and more disbelieving as he read, until finally, he said, “Excuse me, Mr. President, let me take care of this.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number, his voice shaking slightly as he gave the communications officer the number.
As he was speaking on the phone, Secretary of State Parker took a message handed to him by an aide: “Mr. Chamberlain, I’ve just received a message from the foreign minister of Brazil that I think you should know about…”
“I’ll be there in a sec, Chris.”
“What is going on, Chris?” the President asked.
“Sir, the Brazilian foreign ministry wants to know why we’ve sent a strike team with an armed robot down to Brazil to kill federal military police forces.”
The President turned to look at Chamberlain…but the National Security Adviser was already sitting with his mouth agape in surprise as he listened to his aide’s report. “Robert…”
“Tell them to get their asses back here, on the double!” he hissed into his phone.
“Mr. Chamberlain!” the President shouted.
“Do it!” Chamberlain snapped into the phone, then hung up. He took a deep breath, then said, “Mr. President, I’ve just received a report from my aide, Sergeant Major Jefferson. He is in São Paulo, Brazil, with elements of Task Force TALON.”
“What?” the President exclaimed. “Who in hell authorized this?”
“I did, sir, on my own initiative,” Chamberlain replied.
“Explain.”
“The cocommander of the task force, Major Richter, received information from a highly reliable civilian source of the location of a senior member of a terrorist group known as GAMMA that may have been responsible for the nuclear blast in Kingman City,” Chamberlain explained. “Without prior authorization, Major Richter prepared to take one of his robotic units, what he calls a CID, or Cybernetic Infantry Device, down to Brazil to capture this suspect. Sergeant Major Jefferson intercepted the major before he could depart.”
“So how did they end up in Brazil?”
“I verified the information Major Richter had with Kristen Skyy’s producers and top executives at SATCOM One News in New York,” Chamberlain went on. “The information was good, so I authorized the investigation.”
“With a damned armed robot?”
“No, sir. I told Sergeant Major Jefferson this was to be an investigation only. They apparently decided to bring their manned robot weapon system with them.”
“Are they crazy?” Secretary of State Parker exclaimed. “What in hell is going on with this unit of yours, Chamberlain? Are they out of their minds?”
“Under whose authority did he think he was operating, Chamberlain?” chief of staff Collins asked heatedly. “Yours?”
“I wasn’t privy to his decision-making logic, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said distractedly.
“Oh, great…!”
“In any case, the task force did find this terrorist leader, who had been captured by government troops…”
“And our guys fought with the Brazilian army?”
“The troops were apparently trying to kill the terrorist leader, not arrest him, on orders of an unidentified foreign fighter,” Chamberlain said. “I’m unclear as to the details, but the bottom line is that the task force captured the terrorist second in command.” To the President, he went on: “Sir, they are now requesting permission to pursue leads that might result in the capture of the terrorist leader himself. They are requesting that the rest of the task force deploy to Brazil to assist.”
“Not only should they not deploy—they should all be court-martialed!”
“For what, Collins—doing their jobs?” Chamberlain asked. “They said they had concrete evidence linking this terror organization with the blast at Kingman City, and they acted. That’s exactly what they should be doing. I may not agree with them doing this without coordinating with me, but at least they acted.”
“That’s enough,” the President said. “Robert, make sure the task force members stop what the hell they’re doing and await further orders. No other contact with local law enforcement or the Brazilian military until I give the word. Brief State and Justice right away on the task-force members down there and their capabilities—especially that robot thing that’s tearing the place up.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said, picking up the telephone and looking immensely relieved.
To the Secretary of State, the President said, “Chris, speak with the Brazilian Interior Ministry about getting our guys official sanction while they’re down there before the world press thinks we’ve just started an invasion of Brazil.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And talk to him about getting them permission to hunt down terror suspects down there. If our guys are pursuing the ones who planned and carried out the attack on Kingman City, I want
full cooperation.”
São Paulo, Brazil
A short time later
Ray Jefferson closed his cell phone. “That’s it,” he said. “We’ve been ordered to stand down and await further orders. No other task force deployments authorized.”
“This could be our only hope to capture Ruiz before Khalimov gets him,” Kristen Skyy pointed out.
“We’ve exceeded our authority as it is,” Jefferson said. “Mount up and let’s get out of here before more PME troops arrive and they decide we’ve broken the law—which I’m sure we’ve done.”
Jason Richter hesitated. Then, he turned to Kristen: “Do we have enough fuel to get to Abaete, Kristen?” he asked.
“Sure.” Kristen saw the look on Jason’s face, and her own expression turned serious. She shrugged and added, “Maybe just enough. We should stop there to refuel.”
Jefferson shot an angry glance at Richter. “Major, I warned you…”
“Sir, Abaete is north of here,” Jason interjected quickly. “We need to make a fuel stop as we head northbound, don’t we? Abaete is just as good a place to stop as any.”
“There’s a restaurant at Abaete Regional Airport that serves the best churrasco—Brazilian barbecue,” Kristen said with a twinkle in her eye. “You boys will love it.”
“You clowns got it all figured out, don’t you?” Jefferson asked irritably—but he nodded: it was exactly the excuse he was looking for. “All right, mount up. And get that CID unit fixed as best you can, Dr. Vega—I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
Abaete, State of Minas Gerais, Brazil
That evening
“I see you chose to disobey orders and stop in Abaete after all, eh, Sergeant Major?” Robert Chamberlain remarked via their secure cellular phone.
