Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 05 (14 page)

 
          
“If
I may interject here, Mr. President,” Jeffrey Hartman said, “but as distasteful
as this may sound, it appears as if we have an even trade—we shot up their
island, they shot up our spy ship. I don’t believe we are on the verge of war
here.
Iran
is flexing its muscles, to be sure, but the entire world knows that the
Khomeini
battle group is a paper
tiger.

 
          
“Mr.
President, General Freeman, I know losing even one man is hard, but I don’t
believe that this is a prelude to war, nor should we make it so. After all, we
started
this mess by bolstering the
Peninsula Shield attack mission. The loss of those ISA agents was tragic, but
we took a gamble and we lost. We should just back off and let everyone cool
down. We stirred up one big hornet’s nest, Philip.”

 
          
“Maybe
someone should have taken care of the nest before it got so big that it
threatened all the neighbors,” Freeman retorted. “The only mistake we made was
letting the GCC fight
our
batde for
them.”

 
          
“So
we
should’ve sent in a bombing raid
on
Abu
Musa
Island
?” Hartman asked.
“We
should’ve bombed that Iranian island? We’d be the bullies then,
General.”

 
          
“Instead,
we’ve lost a major intelligence-collecting vessel,” Freeman pointed out, “and
Iran
will just park their carrier task force in
the
Strait of Hormuz
and rebuild the missile systems on that
island. Do we dare sail a carrier into the Gulf, Jeffrey? What will we have to
concede to
Iran
so we get a guarantee that they won’t attack the carrier group?”

 
          
“They
are not going to attack our carriers, Philip,” Hartman said, shaking his head.
“This whole thing is a non-issue, General. We back off, let them rant and rave,
and things will be back to normal. We’ve sailed a dozen carrier battle groups
past those Iranian military bases in the
Persian Gulf
and the
Strait of Hormuz
over the past few years, and the Iranians
have ignored us.”

 
          
Freeman
didn’t continue the argument, and that surprised President Martindale, who
studied his National Security Advisor for a moment in silence. In the previous
administration, Philip Freeman had been the long-suffering Chairman of the
Joint Chiefs of Staff, a lone voice urging a definitive, hard-hitting military
policy in a White House that had seemed very reluctant to use military force.
Before that, he’d been one of the main engineers of the Pentagon’s “Bottom-Up
Review,” or BUR, a comprehensive review of
U.S.
military doctrine that was supposed to
decide the future of the military forces for the next twenty-five years.

 
          
Freeman
was a true visionary—even Martindale, leader of the political opposition at the
time, had recognized it. Freeman knew that
America
was done fighting grand intercontinental
World War Ill-scale wars. No longer were nuclear weapons and massive armored
columns streaking across the European countryside—or even the Arabian
deserts—guaranteed to win wars; in fact, Freeman had written, the nukes and the
big, slow, resource-draining weapons systems were sapping the life out of the
U.S.
military. Speed was life. Wherever and
whenever
America
was threatened,
America
had to respond rapidly, with the
application of accurate, deadly—but not necessarily massive—firepower. Hit and
git. Shoot and scoot. It wasn't necessary to flatten the entire batdefield to
cripple an enemy’s ability to make war—every litde cut, every little break
weakened him. Philip Freeman had showed why
America
didn’t need thirty bases in
Germany
or ten bases in
England
or eight bases in
Japan
or fifteen carrier batde groups. Global
reach and global power could allow America, with proper funding and support
from Congress, to fight two MRCs—major regional conflicts, Desert Storm-sized
wars—and win, even with fewer forces.

 
          
But
Freeman had seen his hard work and dedication to duty go to waste, as the best
military machine in the world crumbled around him due to a lack of funding and,
more important, a lack of strong leadership. The White House and Congress had taken
the BUR cuts and effectively doubled them, reasoning that if
America
could win two Desert Storms with 20 percent
fewer forces, it could win one Desert Storm and hold another enemy at bay with
40
percent fewer forces. Congress seemed
totally out of control: bases that the Joint Chiefs thought were useless but
were located in areas popular with lawmakers were given added funding, while
vital logistical and construction bases in major cities with a large civilian
payroll were closed.

 
          
Foreign-policy
disasters had frustrated Freeman as did domestic affairs. He had been deeply
hurt after the deaths and public disfigurement of eighteen
U.S.
soldiers in
Somalia
, especially since the Somali warlord
responsible for the humiliation was not only still breathing, but being flown
around by United Nations officials. He had been angry and frustrated over the
deaths of
U.S.
and allied peacekeepers in
Bosnia
; he had been professionally frustrated when
Congress wouldn’t budget enough money even for the gready scaled- down BUR
military. He’d seen the
U.S.
military being sucked into a Vietnam-like
quagmire in
Bosnia
, and seen belligerent
Iran
,
North Korea
, and
China
growing in military strength while the
United States
was constantly scaling back. War fighting
was out, and peacekeeping was in—and to a soldier’s soldier like Freeman, it
was like stepping into a boxing ring wearing handcuffs.

 
          
It
had been obvious to presidential candidate Kevin Martindale that these
perceptions were tearing Philip Freeman apart. In official press conferences,
even a casual observer could tell that Freeman appeared hamstrung by inaction;
after his retirement, he’d become almost a recluse. When he emerged from his
Billings
,
Montana
, ranch to address a graduation or conference—he’d rarely done press
interviews after his Pentagon days—many in the nation, including Martindale,
eagerly wanted to hear what he had to say.

 
          
And
it was that way right now. Philip Freeman’s abrupt silence meant that he had a
plan, and Martindale couldn’t wait to hear it— but first there was much to do.
“I don’t hear a firm consensus here, folks, so why don’t we put this on the
back burner for a short while. I want everybody to gather some more data. We
have to know for sure what we’re dealing with. Anything more for me?” They
tossed around more ideas and issues, then the meeting broke up. “A word with
you for a sec, Phil,” the President said. When everyone else except Vice
President Ellen Whiting had departed, the President motioned them both to a
chair at the coffee table, and they sat informally. “Talk to me, Phil,” the
President ordered. “What’s on your mind?”

 
          
“The
Iranians could do it, sir,” Freeman said.

 
          
“Do
what?”

 
          
“Close
off the
Persian Gulf
. They’ve got the advantage of substantial
land-based air assets, a pretty good air defense network to protect against
cruise-missile attack, and a million-man standing army battle-hardened and
ready to fight—plus they’ve got a beefed-up navy, including an aircraft carrier
battle group that has the potential to mount a pretty good attack on the
Lincoln
carrier group. The intangibles
are a pretty sophisticated chemical and biological warfare capability and
possibly an advanced nuclear weapons program, far more advanced than
Iraq
’s. Finally, Iran has a better network of
regional and world allies, including China, North Korea, possibly Russia, and
possibly many Muslim nations such as Syria, Libya, Pakistan, even Turkey—all of
whom could make lots of trouble for us elsewhere in the world, possibly opening
up a ‘second front,’ if you will.”

 
          
“So
this could turn into another Desert Storm-type conflict very easily?”

 
          
“Yes,
but our response would be far more difficult,” Freeman said. “And not only for
the reasons I’ve cited before. Imagine no sea access to the
Persian Gulf
—all military supplies flown in or sent via
road or rail from the
Red
Sea
. Saudi bases
and oil fields under attack by Iranian bombers. There would be no direct land
invasion of Iran—all amphibious or airborne assaults, similar to D-Day
operation—and Iran is three times larger and hillier than Iraq, so the war
would probably be longer and much more difficult.”

 
          
“We’re
looking at an air war, then,” the President said. “A total air war.”

 
          
“Possibly
a total bomber war right from the start,” Freeman agreed, “until we got control
of the skies, got the carrier battle groups close enough to safely start
bombing missions, and secured forward bases in Saudi and
Turkey
. If
Saudi Arabia
or
Turkey
are denied us, the closest bomber staging
base might be Diego Garcia, several hundred miles away—and the Iranians can
even hold Diego Garcia at risk with
their
long-range bombers.”

 
          
“Jesus,”
the President muttered, shaking his head. He held up his hands, as if imploring
God for an answer. “Why is this happening?” he asked. “Why does
Iran
want to do this?”

 
          
“I’m
praying they
don’t
want to do this,
sir,” Freeman replied. “I believe General Buzhazi, the commander of all Iranian
military forces and commander of their Revolutionary Guards, is calling the
shots now. He was embarrassed by the GCC’s attack on Abu Musa and probably
frustrated by Nateq-Nouri’s moderate anti-military stance, so he’s got the ear
of the reactionary clerics. But the mullahs don’t have the power they did in
the eighties. If Nateq-Nouri can retain control of the government, this thing
can blow over, just like Jeffrey said. But if Buzhazi takes charge—a coup,
martial law—we’re in for a tough time.”

 
          
“There
are a lot of pretty big ‘ifs’ in there, General,” Whiting interjected. “Any
rash action on our part to counter the Iranian threat could make a lot of these
‘ifs’ come true, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Let’s be careful what we’re
forecasting.”

 
          
The
President nodded his understanding, then paused to consider Freeman’s and
Whiting’s words. “So what are your recommendations?”

 
          
“Arthur
can make specific military recommendations from the Joint Chiefs, sir,” Freeman
said, “but I see two things we need to do immediately: move readiness of the
bomber fleet up a notch or two, and get some more eyes and maybe some hitting
power in the area. I recommend the following: stand up Strategic Command and
give them some assets to put on alert in case we need to respond immediately.”
“That’s precisely what I’m afraid will escalate this thing, General!” Whiting
interjected.

 
          
“Wait
a minute, Ellen,” the President said, “I’ll buy that recommendation, as long as
it’s done quietly and carefully.” Strategic Command was responsible for
planning and fighting a nuclear conflict. Normally, it had no weapons, only
computers and analysts—it took an Executive Order to give it the bombers, subs,
and missiles from other military commands. Except for simulations, Strategic
Command had never “gained” any weapon systems in its six-year history. That was
about to change.... “Talk it over with Defense. Not too much, and all done very
quietly—a few bombers, a few subs, perhaps a few Peacekeeper missiles. Bring
them up slowly, separately, so it doesn’t look like a mobilization, preferably
tied into scheduled exercises.”