Executive Intent

He got to his feet, and everyone else followed suit. “Good to see you, Sal,” he said, shaking hands with the Air Force secretary. “We’ll discuss this and let you know how it’ll be.”

“I’ve got the entire proposal ready for your review, Mr. President,” Banderas said. “I know you’ll be surprised and pleased with the program.”

The president ignored the last-second sales pitch. “Dr. Page, good to see you again,” he said, shaking her hand next. “Deploying a new weapon system is a process, as I’m sure you are very aware. If you spring it on the world all at once like this, folks put up an immediate negative reaction to it-and that goes double for something this different.”

“I know very well, Mr. President, after all my work on Skybolt and in the Senate Armed Services Committee,” Ann said. “But Kingfisher is what’s needed now for global reconnaissance and a truly rapid-reaction ballistic-missile defense and global strike.”

The White House chief of staff, Walter Kordus, could see the president’s exasperation at the chatter and began herding the visitors out the door. Kai Raydon stuck out a hand before Kordus could reach him, and the president shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. President,” he said.

“Same, General,” Gardner responded curtly before Kordus finally corralled the visitors and led them outside, trailing them with a chorus of thank-yous.

“I’d be happy to talk to those people for you next time, Mr. President,” Secretary of Defense Turner said after all but he, Conrad Carlyle, and Stacy Anne Barbeau stayed behind. “They’re starting to sound like used-car salesmen. And I had no inkling they were going to propose killing BAMS and ForceNet for their space stuff. They must be breathing too much rare gas or something.”

“I’m not about to kill any Navy programs for this Thor’s Hammer thing,” the president said. “It is indeed impressive-just impressive enough to offer it up to the Russians, Chinese, North Koreans, or anyone else we need to make a deal with. Otherwise we threaten to start launching more weapon garages into space, and they’ll have to spend trillions to counter it.”

A phone rang, and Kordus answered it immediately-calls that came in to the Situation Room during meetings were always emergencies. He handed it over to Barbeau. “Barbeau…what’s up, Ben?…What?…Great Lord, what in God’s name?…Okay, Ben, call the senior staff together right away. I’ll be there shortly.” She hung up the phone. “ Islamabad has recalled its ambassador to Washington,” she said to the president, “and the ISI has arrested twenty-seven Pakistanis who work at our embassy, accusing them of spying for the United States. Further, the warship visiting Karachi is being barred from leaving port until the ISI inspects it.”

“Here it starts,” the president said wearily. “Walter, get Mazar on the phone for me. Stacy Anne, you talk to the Pakistani foreign minister. Ask them to reconsider those orders, or at least change the order to ‘return for consultations’ or something less flammable than ‘recall,’ and ask them to release the embassy staff. They don’t want to start a diplomatic squabble over an incident that everyone wants to keep hidden in the basement. We have pictures of those missiles and a full transcript of the launch and engagement-they wouldn’t want us to release those videos.” Barbeau hurried away to her office at the State Department. “Conrad…”

“I’ll see what I can do about getting that ship released,” the president’s national security adviser said. “We probably gave every Pakistani naval officer and local government official a tour of that ship already-they shouldn’t be demanding inspections.”

The president nodded. “And I want to get briefed on contingency plans in case we’re barred from Pakistani ports and airfields-how do we sustain Afghanistan operations if we can’t bring in supplies through Pakistan.” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I almost wish we let the Paks fire off another missile. Let’s get busy.”

THREE

You will soon break the bow if you keep it always stretched.

– PHAEDRUS

MINISTRY OF DEFENSE, BEIJING, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA

DAYS LATER

The conference table in the office of the minister of defense of the People’s Republic of China was strewn with black-and-white and color photographs attached to larger pieces of cardboard with descriptive notes around the edges. Nothing too terribly important-looking could be discerned in the pictures by themselves, but the minister of defense, Zung Chunxian, a sixty-one-year-old career bureaucrat with thin dark hair, thick glasses, and a thick waistline, stared at them as if he were looking at works of ancient Chinese art.

“Identification?” he asked the military officer before him as he lit a cigarette.