Debt Of Honor by Clancy, Tom

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