‘The second point is that you all seem convinced — there appears to be a certain doom-laden certainty about this — that this affair, this top-level treason, if you will, is bound to become public knowledge. I have one simple question. Why?’
‘Why? Why?’ The President shook his head as if bemused or stunned by the naiveté of the question. ‘God damn it, Sir John, it’s bound to come out. It’s inevitable. How else are we going to explain things away? If we are at fault, if we are the guilty party, we must in all honesty openly confess to that guilt. We must stand up and be counted.’
‘We have been friends for some years now, Mr President. Friends are allowed to speak openly?’
‘Of course, of course.’
‘Your sentiments, Mr President, do you the greatest possible credit but hardly reflect what, fortunately or unfortunately, goes on in the more rarefied strata of international diplomacy. I am not speaking of deception and deviousness, I am referring to what is practical and politic. It’s bound to come out, you say. Certainly it will — but only if the President of the United States decides that it must. How, you ask, are we going to explain things away? Simple. We don’t. You give me one valid reason why we should move this matter into me realm of the public domain or, as you appear to suggest, make a clean breast of things, and I’ll give you half a dozen reasons – reasons equally valid if not more so – why we shouldn’t.’ Sir John paused as if to marshal his facts but was, in fact, merely waiting for one of the four intent listeners to voice an objection: he had already marshalled his facts.
‘I think, Mr President, that it might do us no harm to hear what Sir John as to say.’ Hollison smiled. ‘Who knows, we might even learn something. As the senior ambassador of a vastly experienced Foreign Office, it seems likely that Sir John must have gained some little expertise along the way.’
‘Thank you, Richard. Bluntly and undiplomatically, Mr President, you have a duty not to speak out. There is nothing
whatsoever to be gained, and a very great deal to be lost. At best you will be hanging out a great deal of dirty washing in public and all to no avail, to no purpose: at worst, you will be providing invaluable ammunition for your enemies. Such open and, if I may say so, ill-advised confession will achieve at best an absolute zero and at worst a big black minus for you, the Pentagon and the citizens of America. The Pentagon, I am sure, is composed of honourable men. Sure, it may have its quota of the misguided, the incompetent, even the downright stupid: name me any large and powerful bureaucratic elite that has never had such a quota. All that matters, finally and basically, is that they are honourable men and I see no earthly justification for dragging the reputations œf honourable men through the dust because we have discovered two rotten apples at the bottom of the barrel.
‘You yourself, Mr President, are in an even worse position. You have devoted a considerable deal of your presidential time to combating terrorism in every shape and form. How will it look to the world if it comes out that two senior members of your armed forces have been actively engaged in promoting terrorism for material gain? You may hardly know the two gentlemen concerned but they will, of course, be elevated to the status of highly trusted aides, and that’s just looking on the bright side. On the dark side, you will not only be accused of harbouring men who are engaged in terrorism but of aiding, abetting and inciting them to new levels of terrorism. Can’t you just see the headlines smeared across the front pages of the -tabloids and yellow press throughout the world? By the time they have finished with you, you will be remembered in history for one thing and one thing only, the ultimate byword for hypocrisy, the allegedly noble and high-principled president who ha$ spent his life in encouraging and promoting the one evil he had sworn to destroy. Throughout the countries of the world that dislike or fear America because of its power, authority and wealth and that, like it or not, means most countries — your reputation would lie in tatters. Because of your exceptionally high level of popularity in your own country you will survive but I hardly think that that consideration would affect you: what would and should affect you is that your campaign against terrorism would be irrevocably destroyed. No phoenix would arise from those particular ashes. As a world force for justice and decency you would be a spent man. To put it in the most undiplomatic terms, sir, to go ahead as you propose to do you’d have to be more than slightly off your rocker.’
The President stared into the middle distance for quite some time, then said in a voice that was almost plaintive: “Does anyone else think I’m off my rocker?’
‘Nobody thinks you’re off your rocker, Mr President,’ the General said. ‘Least of all, I would say, Sir John here. He is merely saying what our unfortunately absent Secretary of State would advocate if he were here. Both gentlemen are high on pragmatism and cold logic and low on unconsidered and precipitate action. Maybe I’m not the ideal person to be passing judgement on this issue. I would obviously be delighted if whatever reputation the Pentagon has survives intact, but I do feel most strongly that, before jumping off the top of the Empire State or whatever one should give some thought to the fatal and irrevocable consequences.’
‘I can only nod emphatic agreement,’ John Heiman, the Defence Secretary said. ‘If I may mix up two metaphors — if I am mixing them — we have only two options. We can let sleeping dogs lie or let slip the dogs of war. Sleeping dogs never harmed anyone but the dogs of war are an unpredictable bunch. Instead of biting the enemy they may well turn, in this case almost certainly would turn, and savage us.’
The President looked at Hollison. ‘Richard?’
‘You’re in the card-game of your life, Mr President. You’ve got only one trump and it’s marked “Silence”.’
‘So it’s four to one, is it?’
‘No, Mr President,’ Heiman said, ‘it’s not and you know it. It’s five to zero.’
‘I suppose, I suppose.’ The President ran a weary hand across his face. ‘And how do we propose to mount this massive display of silence, Sir John?’
‘Sorry, Mr President, but not me. If I am asked for my opinions I am not, as you have seen, slow to give them. But I know the rules and one of them is that I cannot be a party to formulating the policy of a sovereign state. Decisions are for you and for what is, in effect, your war cabinet here.’
A messenger entered and handed a slip of paper to the president. ‘Dispatch from the Ariadne, Mr President.’
‘I don’t have to brace myself for this,’ the President said. ‘As far as dispatches from the Ariadne are concerned, I am permanently braced. Some day I’ll get some good news from that ship.’ He read the message. ‘But not, of course, this time. “Atomic mine removed from cargo bay of bomber and safely transferred to sailing vessel Angelina.” Excellent news as far as it goes, but then: “Unexpected 180 degree change in wind course makes sailing departure impossible. Anticipated delay three to six hours. Hydrogen weapons from plane’s cargo bay being transferred to diving ship Kilcharran. Expect to complete transfer by nightfall.” End of message. Well, where does that leave us?’
Sir John Travers said: ‘It leaves you, Mr President, with a few hours’ breathing space.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Masterly inactivity. Nothing that can be profitably done at the moment. I am merely thinking out loud.’ He looked at the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. ‘Tell me, General, do those two gentlemen in the Pentagon know they are under suspicion? Correction. Do they know that you have proof of their treason?’
‘No. And I agree with what you are about to say. No point
will be served by acquainting them with that fact at the present moment.’
‘None. With the President’s permission, I would like to retire and ponder the problems of state and international diplomacy. With the aid of a pillow.’
The President smiled one of his increasingly rare smiles.
‘What a splendid suggestion. I also shall do exactly that. It’s close on six now, gentlemen. May I suggest that we foregather again at ten-thirty a.m. ?’
At 2.30 that afternoon Van Gelder, message sheet in hand, joined Talbot on the bridge of the Ariadne.
‘Radio from Heraklion, sir. Seems that a Phantom of the Greek Air Force located the diving ship Taormina less than ten minutes after taking off from base. It was just east of Avgo Island, which the chart tells me is about forty miles north-east of Heraklion. Very conveniently positioned to break through the Kasos Strait.’