Shadow Command pm-14

by Dale Brown

  “I’m sure I don’t know what is in the mind of a Russian, even one as Westernized, worldly, and charming as Leonid Zevitin,” Barbeau said. “I would think they would want to avoid rattling sabers at a time where we in the Congress are trying to determine the proper direction for the world’s greatest military force.”

  “But this is more than just saber-rattling, Senator,” the reporter went on. “There is definitely something stirring out there, Senator, and I’m not just talking about the turmoil in Iran, but with American military activities, isn’t there? To put it plainly, ma’am: We can’t seem to get out of our own way. The civil war in Iran is threatening to blow the entire Middle East into an inferno, and yet we’re not doing much of anything except sending unmanned reconnaissance aircraft over the region; oil prices are skyrocketing; the economy is sinking like a rock; Russia accuses us daily of killing civilians, bombing a civil relief base in Iran, and causing unrest and chaos around the world, especially with the Armstrong Space Station and our spaceplanes; the space program seems robust and substantial one day, then completely ineffectual the next. We even have a famous and well-loved American three-star general, the hero of the American Holocaust, in essence stranded in space because no one can tell us if he’s well enough to be brought back home. My question is, madam: What in the world is happening, what has Congress been told by the White House and the Pentagon, and what are you going to do about it?”

  Barbeau gave him her most appealing mind-blowing smile, again defining the phrase “making love to the camera” to millions of viewers as she replied: “Why, sir, what a dreadful picture of doom and gloom you are painting here this morning! Let me assure you, and everyone in your audience around the world, that the Congress of the United States is working very closely with the President and his department officials not only to deal with current and future crises as they rear their ugly heads, but to chart a course for America’s armed forces that is second to none, forward-looking, adaptable, scalable, and affordable. It has been less than five years since the American Holocaust, and three different governments have had to deal with the world as it has become since those awful attacks on our soil. We are making progress, but it will take time.”

  “So tell us how you envision the debate will develop, Senator. What’s on the table?”

  “The most important question for us right now is simply this: What is the best force to take the place of the land-based long-range strategic bombers and intercontinental ballistic missiles that were destroyed in the Holocaust?” Barbeau replied, still radiant even while wearing a stern, concerned, determined expression. “President Thorn favored land- and sea-based tactical air forces, both manned and unmanned, along with ballistic missile defense systems. President Martindale favored the same but, as advocated by his special adviser General Patrick McLanahan, also sought to ‘skip a generation,’ as he said, and develop a fleet of spaceplanes that could strike any target anywhere around the world with amazing speed, launch satellites into orbit whenever needed, and fly troops and equipment anywhere around the planet within hours.

  “As the former Secretary of Defense, Joseph Gardner supported those ideas and encouraged development of Armstrong Space Station, the entire constellation of space-based assets, and the Black Stallion spaceplane,” Barbeau went on. “The space program has taken some amazing strides and has greatly benefited the entire world — the global Internet access provided by our space program has without question truly changed all of our lives and brought our world together — but it has also suffered some serious setbacks. As President, Joseph Gardner has wisely recognized that perhaps the space-based defense force visualized by Patrick McLanahan wasn’t mature enough yet to serve America.”

  “So where does this leave us, Senator?” the host asked.

  “President Gardner has met with the leadership and proposed a more reliable, familiar, proven mix of weapon systems,” Barbeau said. “He wants to take the best concepts proposed by previous administrations and combine them in a comprehensive program to quickly stand up a credible force to meet the country’s needs.”

  “And which concepts are those, Senator?”

  “I can’t give you any specifics, Brit, or I’ll have a lot of very angry gentlemen nipping at my heels in short order,” Barbeau said sweetly. “But in a nutshell, we have the individual services do what the services do best, what has served the nation and the world so well for the past three generations but also recognizes changes in technology and our vision for the future: fully fund and support an expanded and strengthened Army and Marine Corps as the dominant land and special operations forces; fully support the Navy as the dominant sea and air force; and the Air Force as the dominant global support and space defense force.”

  “The Air Force wouldn’t be the dominant air force in the U.S. arsenal? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “Details have yet to be worked out, and of course I’m sure we will adjust and rearrange things as necessary to ensure the absolute best force we can build,” Barbeau began, “but it seems to President Gardner and we in the congressional leadership that there is a wasteful and costly overlap between the Air Force and Navy regarding tactical air forces. It all comes down to the basic notion, Brit, that Navy planes can do everything Air Force planes can do, but Air Force planes cannot do everything Navy planes can do — namely, take off and land on an aircraft carrier, which as everyone readily recognizes is the undisputed definition of power projection in the world today.”

  “And the President as we all know is a big supporter of the Navy, being the former Navy secretary.”

  “It’s a duplication of forces, plain and simple, and now is the time to address this if we want to have a robust, mature, twenty-first century fighting force,” Barbeau said. “We’re trying to think ahead. The Air Force is the proven expert in long-range strategic attack and rapid resupply, and the Navy has no such equivalent capability — it makes sense to give that mission to the Air Force and let the Navy have the mission of training and equipping tactical fighters for theater commanders around the world.”

  “Won’t your constituents in Louisiana object to this plan, Senator?”

  “I represent the finest, most patriotic, and most pro-military folks in the country, Brit: the good people of Barksdale Air Force Base near Bossier City, Louisiana — Bomber Town, USA,” Barbeau said. “But even the staunchest bomber supporters, like me, have seen the shift coming for years: the shift from World War Two — era land-based bombers to the importance of global reach, rapid mobility, unmanned aircraft, space technology, and most importantly, information warfare. The Air Force is and will remain the leader in these areas. We’ve seen this coming for years, and President Gardner and I think it’s time to design our twenty-first-century forces around this new reality.”

  “But the battles are just beginning, aren’t they, Senator?”

  “With President Gardner’s strong leadership and his steadfast pledge to work closely with Congress, I think the battles will be kept to the barest minimum. Together, we’ll prevail. The alternative is too awful to consider.”

  “So does this mean we’ll see the end of the Black Stallion spaceplanes and military space stations watching over us 24/7?”

  “The Black Stallion is a remarkable technological advancement, to be sure, but as we’ve seen with a man like General McLanahan, it has its risks and dangers,” Barbeau said, a serious look of concern briefly shadowing her features. “My heart sank when I learned of General McLanahan’s illness, and we are doing everything we can to bring him safely home. But my concern is this, Brit: Patrick…General McLanahan…is a powerful man. You know the stories as well as I, Brit…”

  “The ones about McLanahan being challenged by visiting heads of state and generals to rip their respective capital’s phone books in half?” the reporter filled in with a chuckle. “I thought that was a White House Press Corps rumor.”

  “It’s not a rumor, I assure you!” Barbeau exclaimed. “I’ve seen it with
my own eyes — Patrick can rip a D.C. phone book in half as easily as you or I could rip a page out of your little notebook there. And yet he was still brought down by something difficult to detect, diagnose, or treat, something so debilitating that it could put the lives of every space crewman we have in jeopardy. There is great concern that the injury has affected more than just his heart.”

  The reporter’s mouth opened in surprise. “I haven’t heard anything about that, Senator. Would you care to elaborate? What exactly do you mean?”

  “It’s all just speculation and nonsense, I’m sure,” Barbeau said dismissively, acting as if she’d said something completely unintended but riveting the attention of every viewer by looking directly into the camera for a brief moment. “But we do need to fully understand what happened to him. We owe it to him because he is truly a national treasure, a hero in every sense of the word.

  “But the fundamental question remains: Can we afford to put our nation’s military future on hold while we study this awful catastrophe?” Barbeau asked resolutely, first looking at the reporter and then directly at the camera, right into the hearts of the viewers. “As responsible caretakers of our armed forces, sworn to build the best possible force to protect and defend our homeland and way of life, the answer is simple and obvious: the space defense force is not ready, and so we must turn to proven systems that we know will work. That’s our job here today, and with the cooperation of the President and the House, we’re going to get it done. The American people expect no less from us.”

  Stacy Anne Barbeau fielded more questions from the gaggle of reporters, until finally the officials of the Senate Press Gallery and Barbeau’s aide shooed them away and let her go. On the way to a late-night meeting in a committee conference room, she took a call on her cellular phone: “I thought you laid on the praise for McLanahan a little too thick, Stacy Anne,” President Joe Gardner said. “His ass will be grass here shortly.”

  “All the more reason to sing his praises, Mr. President,” Barbeau said, greeting supporters and colleagues as she walked and talked. “I advise you to do similarly, Mr. President: Let your Secretary of Defense, the pundits, the Russians, and the anti-military media trash him, not us.”

  “You won’t be saying that when you hear what just happened, Senator.”

  Barbeau’s mouth instantly turned dry. “What’s happened, Mr. President?” she asked, turning a puzzled expression to her aide, Colleen Morna. As they reached the conference room, Morna immediately shooed everyone else out so Barbeau could talk in private.

  “McLanahan lost it, and I mean completely,” Gardner said. She detected a slight hint of triumph in his voice, like he’d finally gotten something that Barbeau didn’t have and expected some quid pro quo for sharing it with her. “His people took over a Turkish air base, captured the base commander and most of the personnel with their manned robots, then launched another air mission over Iran.”

  Barbeau froze, and her mouth dropped open in complete shock before she exclaimed, “What!” Her expression was so alarming that her aide Colleen Morna thought she was having a heart attack. “I…I don’t believe it…”

  “What do you say about your knight in shining armor now, Stacy?” the President asked. “But you haven’t heard the best part. When the brass sent in some security units from Incirlik Air Base to arrest McLanahan’s people, they were gone. The planes and most of their stuff are gone. We have no idea where they are.”

  “They…they must be on their way back to the States, Mr. President…”

  “Not that anyone is aware, Stacy,” Gardner said. “McLanahan has stolen about four experimental attack planes and moved them somewhere. We hope they’re on their way back to Dreamland, their main base in south-central Nevada north of Vegas. If they are, McLanahan can be charged with conspiracy and sedition against the U.S. government. How about them apples? How’s your hero looking now?”

  “I…I just cannot believe it, Mr. President,” Barbeau breathed. Shit, after what she just said to the media, all the nice things about McLanahan…God, this could ruin her! “We need to meet and discuss this right away, Mr. President. We need to come up with a united stance, both for Congress and for the press.”

  “We’re getting all the information we can, and we’ll prepare a briefing for the leadership that we’ll give first thing in the morning,” the President said. “McLanahan is going down, I promise you, and so is his entire command. He won’t be so popular after people find out what he’s done. We won’t have to look like we’re destroying a national hero anymore — he’s taking himself down.”

  “We need all the facts first, Mr. President,” Barbeau said, her mind racing, trying to make sense of this explosive news. “Why exactly did he launch those bombers? McLanahan doesn’t do something for no reason.”

  “It doesn’t matter one bit to me, Stacy,” Gardner said. “He’s disobeyed orders, ignored my authority, and now he’s launched military strike missions overseas, stolen military property, moved and directed military forces without authority, and opposed our own and allied military forces. For all we know, he could be engineering a military coup against the government or even preparing a military strike against Washington. He has to be stopped!”

  “Whatever our response is, Mr. President, I suggest we find out all we can first, carefully discuss it, formulate a plan, and carry it out together,” Barbeau repeated. “I know your military forces are an executive responsibility, but it would be easier to do what we have to do if we are together on this beforehand.”

  “Agreed,” the President said. “We should meet and discuss strategy, Senator, after we present our findings. Tonight. Private meeting in the Oval Office.”

  Barbeau rolled her eyes in exasperation. The man’s greatest general just stole some bombers and captured a Turkish air base, and all the man could think about was canoodling with the Senate majority leader. But she had been suddenly thrust onto the defensive, especially after her statements to the press, and the President had the upper hand. If she wanted any chance of retaining her bargaining position for the space force funds that were certainly going to be freed up soon, she had to play his game…for now. “The Senate has a full schedule, Mr. President, but I’m sure I can…squeeze you in,” Barbeau said, flipping the phone closed.

  “What in the world happened?” her aide, Colleen Morna, asked. “You look as pale as a ghost.”

  “Possibly the worst thing imaginable…or it could be the best,” she said. “Set up a meeting with the President after the last agenda conference tonight.”

  “Tonight? It’s already past five, and you have that meeting with that law firm that represents those defense and technology industry lobbies at seven. That was scheduled to last until nine. What’s the President want? What’s going on?”

  “We all know what the President has got on his mind. Set it up.”

  “It’ll be another late night, and with the Armed Services Committee hearings starting tomorrow, you’ll be running ragged. What’s so important that the President wants to meet so late? He still wants to take McLanahan to the woodshed?”

  “Not just to the woodshed — he wants to bury the whole damned ax in his chest,” Barbeau said. She filled her in quickly, and soon Morna’s expression was even more flabbergasted than her own. “I don’t know precisely what happened, but I think I know McLanahan: he’s the definition of a goody two-shoes. If he hit something in Iran, he probably had spot-on intelligence that something bad was going down, and he didn’t get the green light to take it out, so he did the deed himself. Gardner should be encouraging him, not taking him on. But the President wants to show he’s still in charge and in control, so he’s going to destroy McLanahan.” She thought for a moment; then: “We need to find out exactly what’s happened, but not from Gardner’s perspective. We need our own intel on this. McLanahan’s not crazy. If we come to his rescue, we might come out on top of this after all.”

  “Now you want McLanahan to win, Stacy?” Morna aske
d.

  “Of course I want him to win, Colleen, but I want him to win for me, not just for himself or even for the country!” Barbeau said. “He’s a genuine hero, a knight in shining armor, as Gardner puts it. Gardner’s pride is hurt, and he’s not thinking clearly. I need to find out what he has in mind, even if it means doin’ the dirty with him whenever the First Lady is on the road, but then we need to find out what really happened and plan our own strategy. I gotta keep my eye on the prize, honey, and that is getting contracts and perks for my buddies in Louisiana.”

  “What if he’s really flipped out?”

  “We need to find out what happened to McLanahan and what he did out in Iran, and fast,” Barbeau said. “I’m not going to blindly side with the President and oppose McLanahan unless the guy really has flipped out, which I seriously doubt. Get on the horn and find out all you can about what happened. You still in contact with the space playboy buddy of his…what’s his name?”

  “Hunter Noble.”

  “Oh yes, the luscious Captain Noble, the young space cowboy. You need to pump him for information, but not make it sound like it. You still screwing him?”

  “I’m one of a very long line of Hunter Noble East Coast screwees.”

  “You can do better than that, child,” Barbeau said, giving her a pat on the back and then a discreet one on the butt. “Don’t just be another squeeze — be his wingman, his confidante. Tell him the Senate Armed Services Committee is going to look in on goings-on in Dreamland, and you’d like to help. Warn him. Maybe he’ll give up some useful information.”

  “It’ll be tough to meet up with the guy if he’s flying around in space, stuck in that base out there in the desert…or in prison.”

  “We might have to plan a fact-finding trip to Vegas soon so you can really put the squeeze on him. Maybe I’ll get to join in too.” She paused, savoring the thought of a three-way with the Air Force playboy. “Tell him that if he cooperates, we can keep his tight young ass out of prison.” She smiled and added, “And if he doesn’t cooperate, get me some dirt on the boy that I can use against him. If he won’t play nice, we’ll use him to start dismantling McLanahan and the rest of those characters at Dreamland.”