Jack Ryan 7 - The Sum of All Fears (17 page)

The President had discreetly cleared his calendar for this afternoon conference. Sitting at the head of the table, and directly under an air-conditioning vent, Fowler actually smiled a little as his guests took their places. At his left was G. Dennis Bunker, Secretary of Defense. Former CEO of Aerospace, Inc., Bunker was a former USAF fighter pilot who'd flown 100 missions in the early days of Vietnam, then left the service to found a company he'd ultimately built into a multibillion-dollar empire that sprawled across southern California. He'd sold that and all his other commercial holdings to take this job, keeping only one enterprise under his control—the San Diego Chargers. That retention had been the subject of considerable joshing during his confirmation hearings, and there was light-hearted speculation that Fowler liked Bunker mainly for his SecDef's love of football. Bunker was a rarity in the Fowler administration, as close to a hawk as anyone here, a knowledgeable player in the defense area whose lectures to men in uniform were listened to. Though he'd left the Air Force as a captain, he'd left with three Distinguished Flying Crosses earned driving his F-105 fighter-bomber “downtown” into the environs of Hanoi. Dennis Bunker had seen the elephant. He could talk tactics with captains and strategy with generals. Both the uniforms and the politicians respected the SecDef, and that was rare.

Next to Bunker was Brent Talbot, Secretary of State. A former professor of political science at
Northwestern
University
, Talbot was a long-time friend and ally of the President. Seventy years old, with regal white hair over a pale, intelligent face, Talbot was less an academic than an old-fashioned gentleman, albeit one with a killer instinct. After years of sitting on PFIAB—the President's Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board—and countless other commissions, he was in a place where he could make his impact felt. The archetypical outside-insider, he'd finally picked a winning horse in Fowler. He was also a man with genuine vision. The changes in the East-West relationship signaled to the SecState a historic opportunity to change the face of the world, and he wanted his name on the changes.

On the President's right was his Chief of Staff, Arnold van Damm. This was, after all, a political assembly, and political advice was of paramount import. Next to van Damm was Elizabeth Elliot, the new National Security Advisor. She looked rather severe today, Ryan noted, dressed in an expensive suit with a wispy cravat knotted around her pretty, thin neck. Beside her was Marcus Cabot, Director of Central Intelligence, and Ryan's immediate boss.

The second-rank people were farther away from the seat of power, of course. Ryan and Adler were at the far end of the table, both to separate them from the President and to allow their fuller visibility to the senior members of the conference when they began speaking.

“This your year, Dennis?” the President asked the SecDef.

“You bet it is!” Bunker said. I've waited long enough, but with those two new linebackers, this year we're going to
Denver
."

Then you'll meet the Vikings there,“ Talbot observed. ”Dennis, you had the first draft pick, why didn't you take Tony Wills?"

“I have three good running backs. I needed linebackers, and that kid from
Alabama
is the best I've ever seen.”

“You'll regret it,” the Secretary of State pronounced. Tony Wills had been drafted from Northwestern. An academic All-American, Rhodes Scholar, winner of the Heisman Trophy, and the kid who had almost single-handedly resurrected Northwestern as a football school, Wills had been Talbot's prize student. By all accounts an exceptional young man, people were already talking about his future in politics. Ryan thought that premature, even in
America
's changing political landscape. “He'll kick your butt, third game of the season. And then again in the Super Bowl, if your team makes it that far, which I doubt, Dennis.”

“We'll see,” Bunker snorted.

The President laughed as he arranged his papers. Liz Elliot tried and failed to hide her disapproval, Jack noted from twenty feet away. Her papers were already arranged, her pen in its place to make notes, and her face impatient at the locker-room talk at her end of the table. Well, she had the job she'd angled for, even if it had taken a death—Ryan had heard the details by now—to get it for her.

“I think we'll call the meeting to order,” President Fowler said. Noise in the room stopped cold. “Mr. Adler, could you fill us in on what happened on your trip?”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I would say that most of the pieces are in place. The
Vatican
agrees to the terms of our proposal unconditionally, and is ready to host the negotiations at any time.”

“How did
Israel
react?” Liz Elliot asked, to show that she was on top of things.

“Could have been better,” Adler said neutrally. “They'll come, but I expect serious resistance.”

“How serious?”

“Anything they can do to avoid being nailed down, they'll do. They are very uncomfortable with this idea.”

This was hardly unexpected, Mr. President," Talbot added.

“What about the Saudis?” Fowler asked Ryan.

“Sir, my read is that they'll play. Prince Ali was very optimistic. We spent an hour with the King, and his reaction was cautious but positive. Their concern is that the Israelis won't do it, no matter what pressure we put on them, and they are worried about being left hanging. Setting that aside for the moment, Mr. President, the Saudis appear quite willing to accept the plan as drafted, and to accept their participatory role in its implementation. They offered some modifications, which I outlined in my briefing sheet. As you can see none of them are substantively troublesome. In fact, two of them look like genuine enhancements.”

“The Soviets?”

“Scott handled that,” Secretary Talbot replied. “They have signed off on the idea, but their read also is that
Israel
will not cooperate. President Narmonov cabled us day before yesterday that the plan is wholly compatible with his government's policy. They are willing to underwrite the plan to the extent that they will restrict arms sales to the other nations in the region to cover defensive needs only.”

“Really?” Ryan blurted.

“That does clobber one of your predictions, doesn't it?” DCI Cabot noted with a chuckle.

“How so?” the President asked.

“Mr. President, arms sales to that area are a major cash cow for the Sovs. For them to reduce those sales will cost them billions in hard-currency earnings that they really need.”

Ryan leaned back and whistled. “That is surprising.”

“They also want to have a few people at the negotiations. That seems fair enough. The arms-sales aspect of the treaty—if we get that far—will be set up as a side-bar codicil between
America
and the Soviets.”

Liz Elliot smiled at Ryan. She'd predicted that development.

“In return, the Soviets want some help on farm commodities, and a few trade credits,” Talbot added. “It's cheap at the price. Soviet cooperation in this affair is hugely important to us, and the prestige associated with the treaty is important for them. It's a very equitable deal for the both of us. Besides, we have all that wheat lying around and doing nothing.”

“So, the only stumbling block is
Israel
?” Fowler asked the table. He was answered with nods. “How serious?”

“Jack,” Cabot said, turning to his deputy, “how did Avi Ben Jakob react to things?”

“We had dinner the day before I flew to
Saudi Arabia
. He looked very unhappy. Exactly what he knew I do not know. I didn't give him very much to warn his government with, and —”

“What does 'not very much' mean, Ryan?” Elliot snapped down the table.

“Nothing,” Ryan answered. “I told him to wait and see. Intelligence people don't like that. I would speculate that he knew something was up, but not what.”

“The looks I got at the table over there were pretty surprised,” Adler said to back Ryan up. “They expected something, but what I gave them wasn't it.”

The Secretary of State leaned forward. “
Mr.
President
,
Israel
has lived for two generations under the fiction that they and they alone are responsible for their national security. It's become almost a religious belief over there—and despite the fact that we give them vast amounts of arms and other grants every year, it is their government policy to live as though that idea were true. Their institutional fear is that once they mortgage their national security to the good will of others, they become vulnerable to the discontinuance of that good will.”

“You get tired of hearing that,” Liz Elliot observed coldly.

Maybe you wouldn't if six million of your relatives got themselves turned into air pollution
, Ryan thought to himself. How the hell can we not be sensitive to memories of the Holocaust?

“I think we can take it as given that a bilateral defense treaty between the
United States
and
Israel
will sail through the Senate,” Arnie van Damm said, speaking for the first time.

“How quickly can we deploy the necessary units to Israeli territory?” Fowler wanted to know.

“It would take roughly five weeks from the time you push the button, sir,” the SecDef replied. The 10th Armored Cavalry Regiment is forming up right now. That's essentially a heavy brigade force, and it'll defeat—make that 'destroy'—any armored division the Arabs could throw at it. To that we'll add a Marine unit for show, and with the home-port deal at
Haifa
, we'll almost always have a carrier battle-group in the Eastern Med. Toss in the F-16 wing from
Sicily
, and you've got a sizable force. The military will like it, too. It gives them a big play area to train in. We'll use our base in the
Negev
the same way we use the
National
Training
Center
in
Fort
Irwin
. The best way to keep that unit tight and ready is to train the hell out of it. It'll be expensive to run it that way, of course, but —"

“But we'll pay that price,” Fowler said, cutting Bunker off gently. “It's more than worth the expenditure, and we won't have any problems on the Hill keeping that funded, will we, Arnie?”

“Any congressman who bitches about this will have his career cut short,” the Chief of Staff said confidently.

“So, it's just a matter of eliminating Israeli opposition?” Fowler went on.

“Correct, Mr. President,” Talbot replied for the assembly.

“What's the best way to do that?” This Presidential question was rhetorical. That answer was already delineated. The current Israeli government, like all which had preceded it for a decade, was a shaky coalition of disparate interests. The right kind of shove from
Washington
would bring it down. “What about the rest of the world?”

“The NATO countries will not be a problem. The rest of the UN will go along grudgingly,” Elliot said, before Talbot could speak. “So long as the Saudis play ball on this, the Islamic world will fall into line. If
Israel
resists, they'll be as alone as they have ever been.”

“I don't like putting too much pressure on them,” Ryan said.

“Dr. Ryan, that's not within your purview,” Elliot said gently. A few heads moved slightly, and a few eyes narrowed, but no one rose to Jack's defense.

“That is true, Dr. Elliot,” Ryan said, after the awkward silence. “It is also true that too much pressure might have an effect opposite from what the President intends. Then there is a moral dimension that needs to be considered.”

“Dr. Ryan, this is all about the moral dimension,” the President said. “The moral dimension is simply put: there has been enough war there, and it is time to put an end to it. Our plan is a means of doing that.”

Our plan
, Ryan heard him say. Van Damm's eyes flickered for a moment, then went still. Jack realized that he was as alone here in this room as the President intended
Israel
to be. He looked down at his notes and kept his mouth shut. Moral dimension, my ass! Jack thought angrily. This is about setting footprints in the sands of time, and about the political advantages of being seen as The Great Peacemaker. But it wasn't a time for cynicism, and though the plan was no longer Ryan's, it was a worthy one.

“If we have to squeeze them, how do we go about it?” President Fowler asked lightly. “Nothing harsh, just to send a quiet and intelligible message.”

“There's a major shipment of aircraft spares ready to go next week. They're replacing the radar systems on all their F-15 fighters,” Secretary of Defense Bunker said. “There are other things, too, but that radar system is very important to them. It's brand-new. We're just installing it ourselves. The same is true for the F-16's new missile system. Their Air Force is their crown jewel. If we are forced to withhold that shipment for technical reasons, they'll get the signal loud and clear.”

“Can it be done quietly?” Elliot asked.

“We can let them know that if they make noise, it won't help,” van Damm said. “If the speech goes over well at the UN, as it should, we might be able to obviate their congressional lobby.”

“It might be preferable to sweeten the deal by allowing them to get more arms instead of crippling systems they already have.” That was Ryan's last toss. Elliot slammed the door on the DDCI.

“We can't afford that.”

The Chief of Staff agreed: “We can't possibly squeeze any more defense dollars out of the budget, even for
Israel
. The money just isn't there.”

“I'd prefer to let them know ahead of time—if we really intend to squeeze them,” the Secretary of State said.

Liz Elliot shook her head. “No. If they need to get the message, let them get it the hard way. They like to play tough. They ought to understand.”

“Very well.” The President made a last note on his pad. “We hold until the speech next week. I change the speech to include an invitation to enter formal negotiations in
Rome
starting two weeks from yesterday. We let
Israel
know that they either play ball or face the consequences, and that we're not kidding this time. We send that message as Secretary Bunker suggested, and do that by surprise. Anything else?”

“Leaks?” van Damm said quietly.

“What about
Israel
?” Elliot asked Scott Adler.