you will be treated well. Attempt to escape, and your body will be found in
pieces on some railroad tracks along with a note apologizing for your politi-
cal failures.”
“You will not have that satisfaction,” the former Prime Minister replied
coldly.
40
Foxes and Hounds
Scherenko had planned to do the meet himself, but urgent business had pre-
vented him from doing so. It turned out to be just as well. The message,
delivered via computer disk, was from his top agent-in-place, the Deputy
Director of the PSID. Whatever the man’s personal habits, he was a canny
political observer, if somewhat verbose in his reports and evaluations. The
Japanese military, he said, was not the least displeased by their immediate
prospects. Frustrated by years of having been labeled as a “self-defense
force” and relegated in the public’s mind to getting in the way of Godzilla
and other unlikely monsters (usually to their misfortune), they deemed
themselves custodians of a proud warrior tradition, and now, finally, with
political leadership worthy of their mettle, their command leadership rel-
ished the chance to show what they could do. Mainly products of American
training and professional education, the senior officers had made their esti-
mate of the situation and announced to everyone who would listen that they
could and would win this limited contest-and, the PSID director went on,
they thought the chances of conquering Siberia were excellent.
This evaluation and the report from the two CIA officers were relayed to
Moscow at once. So there was dissension in the Japanese government, and at
least one of its professional departments had a slight grasp on reality. It was
gratifying to the Russian, but he also remembered how a German intelli
gence chief named Canaris had done much the same thing in ty.iy. and had
completely failed to accomplish anything. It was an historical model that In-
intended to break. The trick with wars was to prevent them liom growing
large. Scherenko didn’t hold with the theory that diplomacy could keep them
from starting, but he did believe that good intelligence and decisive action
rotiM kcop them from going loo far it you hud the political will to take the
pto|XM m lion It worried him, however, that it was Americans who had to
show thiil will.
“It’s called Operation /OKRO. Mr. President,” Robby Jackson said, flipping
the cover oil the first chart. The Secretaries of State and Defense were there
in the Situation Room, along with Ryan and Arnie van Damm. The two cabi-
net secretaries were ill at ease right now, but then so was the Deputy J-3.
Ryan nodded for him to go on.
“The mission is to dislocate the command leadership of the other side by
precisely targeting those individuals who-”
“You mean murder them?” Brett Hanson asked. He looked over at Sec-
Def, who didn’t react at all.
“Mr. Secretary, we don’t want to engage their civilian population. That
means we cannot attack their economy. We can’t drop bridges in their cities.
Their military is too decentralized in location to-”
“We can’t do this,” Hanson interrupted again.
“Mr. Secretary,” Ryan said coolly, “can we at least hear what the plan is
before we decide what we should and should not do?”
Hanson nodded gruffly, and Jackson continued his brief. “The pieces,”
he concluded, “are largely in place now. We’ve eliminated two of their air-
surveillance assets-”
“When did that happen? How did we do it?”
“It happened last night, ” Ryan answered. “How we did it is not your
concern, sir.”
“Who ordered it?” This question came from President Durling.
“I did, sir. It was well covered, and the operation went off without a
hitch.” Durling replied with his eyes that Ryan was pushing his limits again.
“How many people did that kill?” the Secretary of State demanded.
“About fifty, and that’s two hundred or so less than the number of our
people whom they killed, Mr. Secretary.”
‘ ‘Look, we can talk them out of the islands if we just take the time,” Sec-
State said, and now the argument was bilateral, with all the others watching.
“That’s not what Adler says.”
“Chris Cook thinks so, and he’s got a guy inside their delegation.”
Durling watched impassively, again letting his staff people-that’s how
he thought of them-handle the debate. For him there were other questions.
Politics would again raise its ugly head. If he failed to respond to the crisis
effectively, then he was out. Someone else would be President then, and that
someone else would be faced in the following year at the latest with a wider
crisis. Even worse, if the Russian intelligence estimate were correct and if
Japan and China made their move on Siberia in the coming autumn, then
another, larger crisis would strike during an American election cycle, seri-
ously impeding his country’s ability to deal with it, making everything a
political debate, with an economy still trying to recover from a hundred-
billion-dollar trade shortfall.
“If we fail to act now, Mr. Secretary, there’s no telling how far this thing
might go,” Ryan was saying now.
“We can work this out diplomatically,” Hanson insisted.
“And if not?” Durling asked.
“Then in due course we can consider a measured military response.”
SecState’s confidence was not reflected in SecDef’s expression.
“You have something to add?” the President asked him.
“It will be some time-years-before we can assemble the forces neces-
sary to-”
“We don’t have years,” Ryan snapped.
“No, I don’t think that we do,” Durling observed. “Admiral, will it
work?”
‘ ‘I think it can, sir. We need a few breaks to come our way, but we got the
biggest one last night.”
“We don’t have the necessary forces to assure success,” SecDef said.
“The Task Force commander just sent in his estimate and-”
“I’ve seen it,” Jackson said, not quite able to conceal his uneasiness at
the truth of the report.’ ‘But I know the CAG, Captain Bud Sanchez. Known
him for years, and he says he can do it, and I believe him. Mr. President,
don’t be overly affected by the numbers. It isn’t about numbers. It’s about
fighting a war, and we have more experience in that than they do. It’s about
psychology, and playing to our strengths rather than theirs. War isn’t what it
used to be. Used to be you needed huge forces to destroy the enemy’s capac-
ity to fight and his ability to coordinate and command his forces. Okay, fifty
years ago you needed a lot to do that, but the targets you want to hit are
actually very small, and if you can hit those small targets, you accomplish
the same thing now as you used to need a million men to do before.”
“It’s cold-blooded murder,” Hanson snarled. “That’s what it is.”
Jackson turned from his place at the lectern. “Yes, sir, that’s exactly what
war is, but this way we’re not killing some poor nineteen-year-old son of a
bitch who joined up because he liked the uniform. We’re going to kill the
bastard who sent him out to die and doesn’t even know his name. With all
due respect, sir, I have killed people, and I know exactly what it feels like.
Just once, just one time, I’d like a crack at the people who give the orders
instead of the poor dumb bastards who’re stuck with carrying them out.”
Durling almost smiled at that, remembering all the fantasies, and even a
TV commercial once, about how different it might be if the president and
prime ministers and other senior officials who ordered men off to the field of
battle instead met and slugged it out personally.
“You’re still going to have to kill a lot of kids,” the President said. Admi-
ral Jackson drew back from his angry demeanor before answering.
“I know thai, sir, hut with luck, a lol less.”
“When tin you have to know?”
“The pieces are largely in place now. We can initiate the operation in less
than live hours. Alter that, we’re daylight limited. Twenty-four-hour inter-
vals alter that.”
“Thank you, Admiral Jackson. Could you all excuse me for a few min-
utes?” The men filed out until Durling had another thought. “Jack? Could
you stay a minute?” Ryan turned and sat back down.
“It had to be done, sir. One way or another, if we’re going to take those
nukes out-”
“I know.” The President looked down at his desk. All the briefing papers
and maps and charts were spread out. All the order-of-battle documents. At
least he’d been spared the casualty estimates, probably at Ryan’s direction.
After a second they heard the door close.
Ryan spoke first. “Sir, there’s one other thing. Former Prime Minister
Koga has been arrested-excuse me, we only know that he’s kinda disap-
peared.”
“What does that mean? Why didn’t you bring that up before?”
“The arrest happened less than twenty-four hours after I told Scott Adler
that Koga had been contacted. I didn’t even tell him whom he’d been in