centuries of policy, damned good policy. Throwing it all away is nothing
short of idiotic!”
“If I may, Mr. Waring?” Heideman cut in. “Admiral, we all know your
views. You’ve expressed them often enough, and loudly enough, for all of
us to know where you stand. But this is a political decision, not a
military one.”
“It means putting more American servicemen in harm’s way, Mr.
Secretary,” Scott said. “And that is always a military decision,
regardless of the politics involved.”
“Damn it, Scott, this perennial foot-dragging is getting damned old!”
Gordon West, the White House Chief of Staff, exploded. “If you can’t get
with the program, for God’s sake, at least get out of the way so the
rest of us can do something constructive for a change!”
“Take it easy, Gordon,” the Security Adviser said. “I invited his
opinion, and he gave it. We have enough hot spots around the world
without turning the Cabinet Room into another one, okay?”
West didn’t answer, but he visibly controlled his temper and settled
back in his seat. The other presidential advisers gathered around the
long oak table relaxed, but there was still an air of tension in the
room. After nearly two years of this administration, quarrels like this
one were an almost routine part of any foreign policy meeting. This one,
though, had all the earmarks of a really serious fight–the kind that
ended in resignations offered and accepted, and in Senate hearings over
new nominees for top-level government posts.
It wouldn’t be the first time, either, Magruder thought as he glanced
around the table. As a matter of fact, Admiral Scott wouldn’t have been
quite so touchy if it hadn’t been for the last such argument, the one
that had led to the resignation of Secretary of Defense Vane six months
previously. Vane had always backed his military experts when it came to
questions of foreign policy and American power projection, but those
days were gone now. Scott wasn’t exactly a lone voice in the wilderness,
but sometimes it must have seemed that way to the man. It couldn’t be
easy working for the new secretary.
Magruder’s eyes rested on Secretary of Defense Samantha Reed, former
congresswoman from California, one-time member of the House Armed
Services Committee, and powerful friend to the feminist left and
champion of a liberal social agenda. Her appointment to the Cabinet had
barely squeaked through the required Senate approval process despite the
political pressures that made it all but impossible for many senators to
vote against her. The nomination of the first woman ever considered for
a powerhouse Cabinet position like Defense was one of those historic
moments for women everywhere, and headline-conscious politicians weren’t
about to go on record as voting against the tide of history. Too many of
them remembered the “They just don’t get it” mentality engendered in the
early ’90s by incidents like the Anita Hill allegations against Clarence
Thomas, and the fight over the retirement of Admiral Frank Kelso, the
Navy Secretary who had presided over the Tailhook scandal.
Even so, the vote to confirm her in her new position had been a close
one.
Tall, dignified, and with the experienced politician’s charm and ready
smile, Samantha Reed turned to face the President’s chief adviser. “Mr.
Waring,” she said. “As far as I can see, this could be an excellent
trade. We remove a potentially dangerous military force from the Crimea,
and the UN moves in and takes charge. The UN’s prestige is enhanced as a
world peacekeeper. I don’t need to remind anyone here that the American
public is not enthusiastic about our becoming the world’s policeman, do
I?”
“Madam Secretary,” Scott said. “With all due respect, where’s the
difference? If our military is policing the world as a part of U.S.
foreign policy or at the behest of the United Nations, we’re still
footing the bill.”
“Not at all, Admiral,” she replied, her voice silk-smooth behind a
glacial smile. “The UN would pay the costs of the deployment. A share of
that is ours, of course, ultimately, but it won’t be as though the
American taxpayer is shouldering the entire burden.”
“The bill I was referring to, Madam Secretary, was the butcher’s bill.