“Same cultures. Same ocean in between. Same island economy in Japan. Same worldview in America. They have guns and ships and airplanes. We have guns and ships and airplanes. Three generations later, and it’ll come down to the same fight.” Warner turned toward Leach. “Brian, what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” Leach began in his faintly singsong voice, “I think we’ve all missed the point here. We’re already talking about war, how we’ll do it, what the bad guys will do, what the public will think.” Leach crossed his legs, the hair showing on the skin of his ankles. He pulled a pair of half-frame glasses from his shirt pocket and perched them on the end of his nose. “We haven’t discussed diplomacy yet.” Leach now looked over his glasses at Phillip Gordon, secretary of state, as if denigrating him for not doing his job. “We haven’t discussed nonmilitary options yet. I think we should have our ambassador there explain some simple facts to Prime Minister Kurita.
Facts such as — we have the power to completely bottle up the Japanese islands. We can blow up their entire military. Madam President, I suggest we get smart. Ask politely, spell out the facts. I believe the Japanese will cooperate — they don’t want to lose face. I urge you to consider that.” Warner paced, finally stopped, again in front of the window. “General Sverdlov,” she called. She had yet to ask the opinion of the incoming nominee for Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Sverdlov was a young-looking general, short with a full head of straight, fine brown hair, teeth so smooth and white as to seem capped or coated, and a perpetual smile. With his recent ear operation he was rarely seen without a ball of cotton in his right ear, and he had stumbled slightly on the way in, his equilibrium thrown off. Pacino had met him at several Pentagon parties, and they had gotten along well, although Sverdlov’s second wife had seemed a bit young and flirty. Sverdlov blinked and rubbed his chin, his teeth appearing as he smiled. “You know. Madam President, when a cancer patient goes to a surgeon, the surgeon recommends surgery. An oncologist pecommends chemotherapy or radiation.
A faith healer recommends prayer and herbs. A tree surgeon, he pulls out a damned chain saw. If you put a situation like this in front of the Navy,” Sverdlov pointed to Pacino and Donchez, since Donchez had once been the Chief of Naval Operations, “they’ll recommend blockade. The Secretary of State will urge diplomacy, and CIA and NSA will recommend spying for more information or a covert operation to assassinate the prime minister. But the call for diplomatic means from CIA and the call for a military operation from State tell me that this situation is far beyond routine. So now you want the overall military view, knowing I’m an Army professional.” Sverdlov flashed a dazzling smile, neutralizing any thoughts of the crowd around him that he was being pompous. “I’d say blockade now if we had the carrier battle groups closer to Japan, but I do not want to advise that until our forces are in position. If we announce a blockade and the Russians run goods to Japan, it’ll be damned hard to set up a blockade piecemeal and stop the Russian resupply. If we just send in an ambassador to threaten Japan, we appear weak to them and the world. I suggest a compromise.” Pacino smiled to himself. It was no wonder Sverdlov had managed to work his way to the top — as a military man he was a master politician. Which made Pacino wonder about the future of his own career, with his bull-in-a-china-shop approach, and with Wadsworth gunning for him. “Let’s do this,” Sverdlov went on. “For the next two days we say nothing. No comment. The Navy makes announcements and gets into the news with a massive deployment of the fleets out of Pearl Harbor. The battle group at sea heads directly for Japan, and the other battle groups follow suit. Five days of steaming later, the Japanese Galaxy satellites show all this firepower headed their way, almost there. The first battle group is already in position.
We let the Russians do what they want. with a notice to them that at noon on Day Zero, something will change. Then, only then, our ambassador comes knocking. He says he’s got a face-saving deal in mind for the Japanese. The deal is, we slip in some UN inspectors, we put in at Port Yokosuka with a battle group, and what’s in it for the Japanese is that we will let them back into our trade markets, slowly and quietly, and in two weeks this all drops from the news and we go on.”
“What if Kurita says no?” Warner asked, a warm expression directed at Sverdlov.
Obviously Warner was one of Sverdlov’s many champions, Pacino thought.
