Executive Intent (42 page)

“I don't know, sir,” Carlyle said. “It's preliminary word, a lot of guesstimates. But I asked that the Navy notify the White House anytime one of their battle groups in the vicinity of the Russian or Chinese carrier groups goes to battle stations for real, so they did. I thought you'd like to know.”

The president nodded, then burped uncomfortably—the sudden flurry of excitement was dumping stomach acid atop the fine dinner and wine he had partially finished, and now it was all turning into sour junk in his guts. “That's okay,” he said. “Keep me advised.” At that moment the phone rang, and he picked it up, listened, then grunted something in reply. “Phoenix wants a quick word.”

“What about?”

“Wouldn't say.” He picked up the phone again. “Ask Mr. Kordus to join us in the Oval Office. He's upstairs in the residence with the reelection team. Thanks.” Just as he hung up, there was a knock on the Oval Office door, and Vice President Ken Phoenix walked in. “What's going on, Ken?” the president asked.

The vice president held up a folder. “I have information that proves that the Russians have been sabotaging our Space Defense Force satellites, sir,” he said.

The president's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “
You
have infor
mation? How did
you
get it, and
I
didn't?” He turned to the national security adviser. “You hear about this, Conrad?”

“No, sir, I haven't.”

Phoenix ignored the question. “Just a few minutes ago, the Russians sent netrusion signals into a Kingfisher weapon garage, causing it to shut itself down a short time later. The signals were detected originating from a Russian space tracking and intelligence site in the Gulf of Aden, off the coast of Somalia.”

“Answer my question, Ken—how did you get this information? Who is it from?”

“Apparently a nongovernmental group investigating Russian activity in the Gulf of Aden.”

“A ‘nongovernmental group'? Care to elaborate?”

“That's all I was told, sir.”

“Does this have to do with the commando insertion plan you concocted on that island in the Gulf of Aden…what was it, Socotra Island?”

“You canceled that operation, sir.”

“I canceled
all
operations in that area, Mr. Phoenix,” the president said. “How did
this
one come about?”

“I don't know, sir,” Phoenix replied. “But the results are conclusive: The Russians are definitely targeting Kingfisher weapon garages, causing them to shut down.”

Chief of Staff Walter Kordus entered the Oval Office, and he motioned to National Security Adviser Carlyle that he had a phone call waiting for him. While Carlyle took the call, the president motioned for the papers Phoenix had and quickly flipped through them. “It's all unsubstantiated stuff, Ken,” the president said, giving the file back to him. “It's hearsay. No specifics. I think someone is feeding you information you wanted to hear. Besides, it's moot: I'm shutting down those Kingfisher satellites anyway.” Carlyle hung up the phone loudly enough to get the president's attention. “What, Conrad?”

“More information on that incident in the Gulf of Aden.” When he noticed Vice President Phoenix's quizzical expression, he explained quickly: “The
Reagan
went to battle stations after one of its search-and-rescue helicopters went down.”

“What…?”

“Go on, Conrad,” the president ordered irritably.

“Soon after the second helicopter went down, three emergency satellite beacons were detected. One belonged to the life raft dropped by the first helicopter. We assume it was activated by the rescue swimmer when he saw the second chopper go down.”

“Makes sense. What about the others?”

“They belonged to the crewmembers of that bomber that was shot down.”

“So there
were
survivors!” Phoenix said.

“The rescue swimmer could've activated the beacons on the victims' life vests,” Carlyle pointed out. “There's more. The position of the three beacons stayed constant for about fifteen to twenty minutes, and then they were lost…at approximately the same time as the
Reagan
's radar plane detected the unidentified helicopter come in from the west.”

“An unidentified helicopter
…
?”
Phoenix exclaimed.

Gardner ignored him. “Lost? You mean, shut off?”

“Military locator beacons are designed so they can be shut off, to avoid crews being tracked by enemy searchers in an escape-and-evasion situation,” Carlyle said. “But EPIRBs carried on ships or life rafts are designed to stay on until the battery runs out, which could be for several days. It's seawater-activated, waterproof, and designed to float, but if it's submerged deeper than thirty feet, the signal can't be heard.”

“So the beacons came on and stayed steady until an unidentified helicopter came in from the west,” Phoenix summarized for himself, “when at that time the beacons were cut off? Sounds to me like whoever was in that helicopter had something to do with
that. Was anything found at the last location of those beacons? Rafts? Bodies? Wreckage? Anything?”

“No, sir, nothing,” Carlyle replied. “When the Navy patrol plane came back after turning away from the
Putin
carrier group, it orbited the last position for an hour until the first rescue helicopter came back, but found nothing.”

“A patrol plane flew toward the
Putin
?” Phoenix asked. “You mean, chasing the unidentified helicopter?” He looked at the president with a stunned expression. “It was a
Russian
helicopter?”

“We don't know that, Ken,” the president said, rubbing his eyes wearily. “We're making a lot of assumptions here, and we could be screwing ourselves up. We don't know the identities of any of those other aircraft except our own.”

“What other aircraft, sir?” Phoenix asked.

“The Hawkeye tracked a fast-moving aircraft in the area just before the Navy rescue helicopter went down,” Carlyle said. “No idea what it was, where it came from, or where it went.”

“It sounds like the Russians attacked the rescue helicopter, then sent one of its helicopters to pick up the survivors,” Phoenix said. “That's madness! That's an act of murder and piracy!”

“We don't know shit, Ken,” the president said. “All this happened within the last thirty to sixty minutes half a world away. The story will change a dozen times in the
next
sixty minutes.”

“Sir, we've got to confront the Russians with what we know and what we suspect,” the vice president said. “Lives are at stake. Those bomber crewmen and the Navy diver could be in the hands of the Russians.”

“It's being handled, Ken,” President Gardner said, longing to get back upstairs to the victory party. He looked at his vice president, thought for a moment, then: “Maybe you're right, Ken,” he said, nodding. “I'll meet with the entire national security team in the morning, get the latest updates, then rattle Truznyev's cage. We'll get to the bottom of this.”

Phoenix nodded. “Yes, sir. I'll make a few calls to the
Reagan
commander and get up to speed. Sorry I wasn't here for the briefing.”

“That's okay,” the president said. “But if I'm going to chair this status meeting tomorrow, I'm going to need you to fill in for me.”

“Fill in, sir?”

“I have three campaign stops scheduled in Chicago and Milwaukee for tomorrow,” the president said. “I'll stay in Washington, get the update, and brief the Press Corps myself on what happened and what we know. I'll have you fill in for me in Wisconsin, then we'll blow the doors off the place by appearing together in Chicago.” He nodded to his chief of staff. “Set it up, will you, Walter? I'm heading back upstairs. Good night, all. Thank you.”

The president, chief of staff, and national security adviser departed the Oval Office, leaving Ken Phoenix by himself. He stood motionless for several long moments; then, as if accepting an unwelcome fate he had seen coming for quite some time, he went over to the president's desk and picked up the phone. “This is the vice president,” he spoke. “Get me President Truznyev of Russia immediately.”

 

The president and chief of staff strode through the outer office of the West Wing, heading for the stairs to the residence. As they passed the chief secretary's desk, she put her phone on hold and called out, “Excuse me, Mr. Kordus?”

He stopped and looked quizzically at her. President Gardner called out over his shoulder, “I'll meet you upstairs, Walter,” and continued on with a wave of his hand.

Kordus went back to the receptionist. “What?” he asked impatiently.

“Sir, the vice president is still in the Oval Office,” she said, “and he just asked to speak with the president of Russia!”

Kordus's face went blank, and then his mouth dropped open in
shock. “Call the president,
now,
and cancel Phoenix's request to talk with Truznyev!” he shouted, running back to the Oval Office.

 

President Gardner strode into the Oval Office a few minutes later, finding the vice president and Chief of Staff Walter Kordus standing next to the president's desk. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked. “What are you still doing here, Ken?”

“The vice president put in a call to President Truznyev from the Oval Office, sir,” Kordus said. “I canceled it.”

“What?”
Gardner thundered. “You asked to speak with the president of Russia, without my permission,
from my office
? Are you insane, Ken? That's a criminal offense! You can be impeached for that! What—”

The phone rang, and Kordus picked it up. “Yes…? Oh, Christ…” He put the call on hold and turned to Gardner. “President Truznyev. Wants to know why the vice president called him and then canceled the call.”

“Tell him it was a mistake.”

“Insists on talking to you, sir.”

Gardner's furious eyes impaled Phoenix with burning lances of anger, and he snatched the phone out of Kordus's hand and hit the “CALL” button. “President Truznyev? President Gardner here…it was a mistake, Mr. President, a miscommunication…no, it was not some sort of tactic…yes, I mean to find out right now.” He put the call on hold again. “Well, Phoenix? What the hell were you going to talk with Truznyev about?”

“I was going to tell him that we know about the netrusion activity from Socotra Island that damaged a Kingfisher satellite,” the vice president said.

“Dammit, Phoenix, I told you I was going to confront him with that tomorrow…!”

“I was also going to tell him that we know the Russian military
intelligence bureau captured the operative that planted the sensor that discovered the netrusion activity,” Phoenix went on, calmly and very matter-of-factly, “and I was going to warn him that if he didn't release the operative, the bomber crewmembers, and the Navy rescue swimmer that he captured today immediately, certain powerful nongovernmental groups were going to start destroying Russian bases and ships around the world.”

“What the hell did you say?”
Gardner shouted.

“I was also going to tell him that we know he has been conspiring with Premier Zhou of China to neutralize American space and seaborne military systems,” Phoenix went on, “and similar attacks would commence against Chinese assets.”

“Are you
insane,
Phoenix…?” Gardner shouted. “He's not going to believe any of this.
I
don't believe any of this!”

“It's true, sir,” Phoenix said. “You can explain it to him, or I can.” He held out his hand for the phone.

Gardner gaped in astonishment, first at Phoenix, then at Kordus, then at the phone, then numbly handed the phone to his vice president. “I can't friggin' wait to hear this,” he murmured.

Phoenix took the phone and pressed the “CALL” button. “President Truznyev? This is Vice President Kenneth Phoenix,” he said. “As I just explained to President Gardner, I know about the netrusion attacks against our Kingfisher satellites, the Chinese antisatellite-missile attacks, and Russia shooting down an unarmed rescue helicopter and capturing the bomber crew and rescue swimmer…no, don't bother denying it, sir, it won't matter.

“I told the president that I am in contact with certain powerful nongovernmental groups that demand you release the captives immediately,” he went on. He listened for a moment, then interjected: “Sir, I'm not here to debate the matter. This group is already on the move. The first attack will be against the space tracking site on Socotra Island. The entire facility will be destroyed in”—he glanced at his watch—“well, any moment now. The second attack
will occur shortly thereafter against your marine detachment in Aden. The third attack will be against the aircraft carrier
Putin
in the Gulf of Aden and its escort ships. The attacks will continue until the captives arrive unharmed at the American embassy in Sana'a.”

Phoenix listened for a moment to the translator's words. At that moment Kordus's cellular phone rang, and he answered it. “President Truznyev, this is not a joke,” Phoenix said. “The group is not under anyone's control here in the White House, I assure you, including myself…yes, sir, I do know the leader's name.” Gardner's eyes grew wide. “His name…is Patrick S. McLanahan.”

“McLanahan
…
?”

“Sir, the consulate in Aden reports a massive ground attack at the harbor,” Kordus said excitedly. “They are saying those manned robots, the Cybernetic Infantry Devices, are tearing the Russian marine detachment facility to pieces! And AFRICOM is reporting a massive air attack near the airport on Socotra Island! The place is getting plastered!”