by Dale Brown
further aggression," Freeman said. "We proved that."
"All you proved, General Freeman, was that terrorism
works," Balboa said acidly.
"What in hell did you say, Balboa?" Jerrod Hale exploded.
Hale was a tall, very large man in his early fifties, a former
Los Angeles district attorney who, as the Martindale for Pres-
FATAL TERRA I N 101
ident campaign director, had engineered Martindale's stunning
comeback from a defeated, divorced former vice president to
a powerful, awe-inspiring, and rather fearsome President of the
United States. More than almost any other person in Wash-
ington besides the President, Hale commanded a lot of power
because he controlled access to the man in the White House-
and Hale was not shy about wielding the forces under his
control. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to? Gen-
eral Freeman is an advisor to the President of the United
States. You're right on the verge of getting yourself shit-
canned!"
The President's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened, but he
raised a hand to silence Hale. "All right, Admiral," he said,
carefully controlling his surprised anger, "it's obvious you've
got something to say, so say it. It sounded like you're accusing
me of terrorism. Did I hear you coffectly?"
"With all due respect, Mr. President-yes, I believe the B-2
bomber attacks were tantamount to acts of tefforism," Balboa
said. "Under advisement from General Freeman, you ordered
a stealth bomber to overfly China and bomb Iran without wam-
ing. In my book, in anyone's book, that's terrorism, and it
ought to be eliminated in this administration." He paused for
a few breaths, then added, "The Chiefs recommend that this
latest operation, this Megafortress support mission, be canceled
and more conventional means be used to support Taiwan's
naval forces. What in hell is this thing? You call it a modified
B-52, but it's sure as hell not like any B-52 I've ever seen!
Where is it now, Mr. President? I want to see it and give my
evaluation."
"Excuse me, Admiral," Chief of Staff Hale intedected,
much more forcibly than before, "but the President will issue
his instructions to you, not the other way around. If you have
any further questions, submit them to me and I'll see that he
gets them.
Although Hale towered over the Navy four-star, Balboa
wasn't going to be intimidated by a civilian staffer, even if he
was the chief of staff and, arguably, the second-most-powerful
man in Washington. His gaze encompassed McLanahan and
Masters as well as Freeman as he said, "I think it might be
better if you dismissed your civilian staffers, sir, so we could
discuss this operation."
102 DALE BROWN
Hale's eyes blazed, and even the old veteran sailor Balboa
took notice. "That's it, Balboa!"
The President tried to defuse the tension by grasping Bal-
boa's arm as they headed for the door. "Look, gents, I've got
a function to attend, and if I'm late, the press will have me
for breakfast," the President said. "Admiral, I'm going with
the Megafortresses. I'm augmenting the sub fleet and keeping
the frigates on patrol, but I don't want the carriers in the For-
mosa Strait right now."
"But, sir, the Chiefs-
"Admiral, there's a time for shooting, a time for gunboat
diplomacy, and a time for negotiations. We made the decision
to keep the carriers out of the Strait during China's Reunifi-
cation Day celebrations, and I think it was a good decision
even though China now seems to be taking advantage of it. I
agree, we're on the back side of the power curve now, and if
China makes a move against Taiwan, there won't be a hell of
a lot we can do. As you recall, Admiral, one reason to keep
the carriers out of the Strait was because of our concern that
China might use nuclear or subatomic weapons against Tai-
wan, and I think that fear is all but a certainty now.
"But I think we've got a new option: we use our techno-
logical advantage and make our enemies think we're right on
their ass ready to blow their shit away," the President went
on. "The ability to make the Iranians or the North Koreans or
even the Chinese think that we can freely, effortlessly fly an
armed warplane right over their damned heads without them
knowing about it is an awesome capability, powerful enough
to stop a war dead in its tracks, and I want to take maximum
advantage of it."
"Yes, sir, I understand," Balboa said in a low voice, not
masking the intense disappointment in his face, "but at least
change the pecking order a little. We've got civilian spooks-
intelligence agents, mercenaries, defense contractors, I'm not
even sure exactly what to call them!-flying Air Force planes
asking for Navy support. It's too confusing. Even the Air
Force hates this plan. At least put the flyboys under CINCPAC,
Admiral Bill Allen at Pacific Command. He's got to be in-
formed of any military assets entering his operational theater
anyway, sir-let's use him and his staff at Pearl to keep track
of things. If things go to hell, he'll see it coming and can jump
in immediately to contain the damage. All the chiefs will sign
14,
FATAL TER RAI N 103
on in support for this mission, if you make this change."
The President thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay,
I'll buy that idea, Admiral." He turned over his shoulder and
said to Freeman, "Phil, brief CINCPAC on the ROC support
mission, and turn operational control over to him. Include Ad-
miral Allen on progress updates and video conferences. Draft
up the execution order and have it ready for me to sign in one
hour."
The President paused and turned toward Freeman and Bal-
boa. "Make no mistake, gents, I am getting a lot of heat for
flying that B-2 over Asia, so the press has parked themselves
at the front gate of every bomber base in the country counting
to make sure they're all there. I've been presented with a new
option, a plane that's not on the books and can't be counted,
so I'm taking it. I expect full support from all of the service
chiefs.
"If it fails, I take full responsibility, and then I expect advice
and assistance in formulating a new plan, with no lip and no
attitude from anyone. Interservice rivalry is a reality, and I
know I've got to deal with it, but I don't want it to interfere
with my wishes, is that clear?" Those last two sentences were
aimed squarely at Balboa, who nodded slightly. "The Taiwan
support operation will be executed as planned; the Navy will
assume operational command.. Anything else for me?"
But Jerrod Hale didn't give anyone the opportunity to re-
spond. He gave Freeman a silent urging not to ask anything
else, then blasted Admiral Balboa with a warning glare that
threatened to cause a sunburn. He hustled the President ex-
pertly out of reach
and covered all sides from anyone else
trying to get his attention as they made their way toward the
stairs to the President's private quarters.
National Security Advisor Philip Freeman led Balboa, Samson,
Masters, and McLanahan down the hall past the Roosevelt
Room, past the Vice President's office, and into his' office in
the northwest comer of the West Wing; Brad Elliott was wait-
ing for them inside, chatting with a Secret Service agent as-
signed to accompany him.
Admiral Balboa ignored everyone in the office that he out-
ranked, which meant he planted himself right in front of Free-
man's desk. "Things are getting a little out of control here,
104 DALE BROWN
Philip," he said in a low voice. "The President looks like he's
under considerable pressure these days. How's he doing?
How's he holding up?"
"The President is doing just fine, George," Freeman said.
"Let me give you a piece of friendly advice, my friend: stop
leading with your mouth. You could find yourself out on the
street if you keep on equating the President's decisions with
acts of terrorism. I think you had a chance to dissuade him
from approving the bomber operation, but you blew it by cop-
ping this do-what-I-want-or-kiss-my-ass attitude. And I also
suggest you don't get on the bad side of Jerrod Hale. You talk
with the President maybe an hour a day-but Jerrod Hale talks
to him sixteen hours a day, maybe more. And as you know,
no one is closer to the boss than Hale, not even his actress-
du-jour Monica Scheherazade. So back off."
Balboa waved that suggestion away like an irritating fly. "If
the President wanted a yes-man as his Joint Chiefs chairman,
he should've hired someone else."
"You called the President a terrorist, George?" Brad Elliott
remarked. "Shit, someone better check your medication."
"Button it, Elliott," Balboa retorted, turning and pointing a
warning finger at the retired Air Force three-star general. He
studied Elliott for a moment, his eyes turning from white-hot
angry to disapproving and pitying. "You're looking kinda
thin, Brad. Maybe we need to schedule you for another flight
physical, maybe check that fancy peg-leg of yours. I frankly
don't think you'd pass. Wonder what would happen to your
project if you were grounded?"
"I'll compare my blood pressure and prostate size with
yours any day, you old fart."
"That will be the last of that shit I will ever hear from either
one of you in my presence, or else the next sound you will
hear is the door to your cell in Leavenworth slamming behind
you," Freeman angrily interjected. "No judge, no jury, no
court-martial. Is that clear? If you don't think I have the juice
to do it, try me." Balboa and Elliott simply glared at each
other-Balboa with a dark scowl, Elliott with his sly, mad-
dening grin. "Our mission is to keep an eye on the Chinese
navy and back each other up if a shooting war starts. Anything
that interferes with that mission is nothing but background
noise, and I will squelch background noise immediately and
permanently.
FATAL T ER RAI N 105
"George, you're responsible for notifying Admiral Allen
that the Megafortresses are en route and will be in his theater.
He will have full operational command of the bombers . . . "
Admiral Balboa smiled at that, until: through General
Samson."
"What?" Balboa asked. "What does Samson have to do
with this mission? This is Pacific Command's theater.
COMNAVAIRPAC has the staff and experience to-"
"The boss wants Samson in the loop," Freeman said. "No
one knows bombers better than he does. General Samson is
hereby temporarily assigned the billet as CINCPAC's deputy,
effective today. Make it happen, George." "What are you
"And what about Elliott?" Balboa asked.
going to make him-chief of naval operations?"
"Elliott is an employee of Sky Masters, Inc., a military re-
tiree and a private citizen," Philip Freeman said, ignoring Bal-
boa's sarcasm. "He has no rights or responsibilities except
those given to him by Dr. Jon Masters and his company as
defense contractors. "
"But if I know Elliott, he'll be piloting one of these Me-
gafortresses you're sending to Pacific Command," Balboa
said. "He'll have his finger on the trigger. Who gives him the
order to cease fire? I ask that because Mr. Elliott here usually
decides for himself when to open fire-it doesn't matter to him
what his superior officers or his commander in chief thinks."
"Admiral, fair warning-button it," Freeman said. "You
get Admiral Allen up to speed on the mission, and let me
worry about the civilians. Anything else for me?"
"I'd like to make an appointment with the President to talk
about this so-called plan," Balboa said sternly. "The sooner
the better. There might still be time to convince him of what
a stupid idea this is."
"Of course, Admiral," Freeman replied. "Just go over to
Aerrod Hale's office. I'm sure he'll be glad to help you any
way he can. Out the door, turn right, end of the hall, straight
ahead." He picked up his desk phone and added, "Shall I
phone the chief of staff's office and tell him to expect you?"
Balboa scowled again, spun on a heel, and left the National
Security Advisor's office without another word, slamming the
door behind him with just enough force to rattle a few pictures
but not enough to inflame Freeman's anger any more.
"Well, Brad, I expected the President to hit the roof when
106 DALE BROWN
he heard you were involved in this project-it wasn't so bad
coming from the chairman of the Joint Chiefs," Freeman said
wryly. "We might still get an earful from the boss." Despite
all this, however, Freeman had to smile at seeing Brad Elliott
again, looking pretty damned good regardless of his recent
travails. He was a big pain in the butt, but, Katy bar the doors,
he made things happen! To Patrick McLanahan, he asked, "So
when can you get your flying circus in-theater, Patrick?"
"We can be on-station in twenty-four hours," McLanahan
replied. "Give us your choice of weapon load, and we'll have
it uploaded by the time we arrive back at Blytheville. Crew
rest, briefing, preflight, and fourteen hours' flight time."
"Good," Freeman said. "We won't need you to go right
on-station, so you'll recover at Andersen. You can change your
weapon load at Andersen if necessary?"
"We can refuel and rearm hot if you need it," Jon Masters
said. "Hot" reloading meant reloading weapons and fuel with
engines running, trying to get the plane in the air and into the
fight as quickly as possible. "We've got enough weapons
available for two weeks of combat operations. First-line stuff."
"Shouldn't be necessary-but we'll keep that capability in
mind," Freeman said. He nodded and smiled at McLanahan.
"A whole wing of Megafortresses, huh? Pr
etty good idea.
There's no money in the budget for another wing of paper
airplanes, let alone high@tech B-52s, but it's a cute idea. Any
idea who we might pick as commander of the first wing of
EB-52 Megafortresses, Colonel McLanahan?" The young nav-
igator-bombardier had no reply, just a smile. Freeman stood
and shook hands with each of them. "Yeah, right. Get out of
here, flyboys. Good luck and good hunting."
Heading down the Grant Staircase next to the Vice President's
office to the visitors' entrance to the West Wing, McLanahan
said in a low voice, "You really irritated Admiral Balboa back
there, Brad."
"Irritated him? You gave him a verbal wedgie back there,"
Masters remarked with a laugh.
"Don't worry about Balboa, Patrick," Elliott said. "He's
worried that we'll steal his thunder, just like we did when he
was CINCPAC and we brought the Air Battle Force in to nail
the Chinese invasion fleet near the Philippines."
L_
FATAL TER RA I N 107
"I just think it's not a good idea to twist his tail, Brad,"
McLanahan urged. "Back then, we had General Curtis as
chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and he ran a lot of interference
for us in the White House and Pentagon so we could employ
the bomber fleet. We don't have Wilbur or the bombers any-
more. If we want to get a chance to show what our upgraded
Megafortresses can do, we've got to work with Balboa and
Allen, not fight them." "They should be happy for our assistance, Patrick," Elliott
said. "They're the ones out of position. We're the ones who
can bail them out until they get back in the game. You don't
want to make us look like a naval air support unit or some-
thing."
"I'd be more than satisfied to be flying in support of the
Navy, Brad," McLanahan said. Elliott looked at him in sur-
prise, but McLanahan continued. "Sir, I know that the bomb-
ers are a powerful frontline weapon system, and the
Megafortress is the best all-around attack aircraft ever flown.
We can deliver more firepower than any one of those frigates
the Navy has in the Formosa Strait. But we're not the frontline
