Power and Empire

Ryan made his way to his favorite chair in front of the fireplace and waved the others to sit on either of the two off-white couches in the middle of the Oval Office. His advisers had all staked out their customary spots for these meetings long ago — and he felt sorry for anyone new to the cabinet who happened to take the wrong seat. The thought of it brought a smile to his face and a question to his mind.

“Not national security — related,” he said, “but you guys have your ears to the ground out there more than I do. What do you hear about Dehart’s nomination?”

Ryan had recently put Mark Dehart, senior congressman from Pennsylvania, forward as his pick for secretary of homeland security, an office recently vacated by the resignation of Andrew Zilko.

Van Damm gave a slight shrug, the way he did when something was a nonissue. “That guy squeaks he’s so clean,” he said. “Confirmation sounds like a foregone conclusion.”

The door opened again and Bob Burgess, secretary of defense, stepped in. He scanned the seated group, checked his watch, and then shook his head. “I apologize for being only five minutes early, Mr. President.”

Ryan smiled, nodding to the Navy steward with the service cart rolling in behind Burgess. “You beat the coffee,” he said. “That’s something, I guess. We’re just getting started.”

Ryan thanked the steward — who was already his coconspirator in the less-healthy breakfast scandal — and, as was his custom, poured everyone’s coffee himself. Rather than standing, he simply held the cups out for his advisers to get up and take. No one appeared to mind.

The meeting breezed along, hitting the high points about Russia, the Ukraine, immigration, and, on the home front, the possibility that the Fed was going to raise interest rates.

“And that brings us to the latest FONOP,” van Damm said. As CoS, it was his job to keep the momentum going on the meeting, but always with an eye on his boss. FONOP was the acronym for Freedom of Navigation Operation. With China continuing to make what much of the world felt were absurd maritime claims in the South China Sea, the United States in general, and Ryan in particular, felt it important to show that not everyone agreed with those claims. To that end, several times each month, U.S. Navy vessels, typically destroyers or littoral combat ships, innocently sailed within the twelve-mile line surrounding several of the disputed islands and reefs — without asking permission. The movements themselves had become almost commonplace. Within the last month, harassment by Chinese vessels and planes had reached new and alarming proportions.

“Sounds like the PRC got their feelings especially hurt on this one,” Ryan mused, perusing his written brief.

The SecDef nodded. “That would be a correct assessment, Mr. President. LCS San Antonio sailed eleven miles off Woody Island in the Paracels on her way to Phuket, Thailand. As you know, the ChiComs have surface-to-air missiles on Woody, so the island is of particular interest to us. Two J-10 fighters off the Woody airstrip buzzed the LCS a half a dozen times. Commander Roger Reese, skipper of the San Antonio, reported encounters with multiple Chinese vessels, including a PLA Navy guided missile frigate that stayed on their tail all the way to the mouth of Patong Bay. Reese followed international protocols, utilizing the Code for Unplanned Encounters at Sea and hailed the ships to declare intentions and avoid miscommunications. Three large fish processors attempted a blockade, without a doubt at the behest of the PLA Navy. Commander Reese apparently plays a better game of chicken and they eventually got out of the way.”

Ryan nodded. “Good for Commander Reese.”

Burgess said, “ChiComs accused him of ‘illegal and dangerously provocative’ actions, as usual.”

“I’m a little concerned about the optics on these FONOPs,” SecState Adler said.

Burgess suppressed a scoff, but just barely. “The optics here are perfect, Scott. These patrols make it absolutely clear to the new Chinese president what the administration thinks of the Great Wall of Sand he’s continuing to dredge up.”

Ryan looked at the secretary of state and shrugged. “Bob’s got a point,” he said.

Adler took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me, sir. I’m referring to the optics presented to the Chinese public, not President Zhao and the party mandarins.”

“Pun intended,” Ryan said, arms crossed, chin on his fist.

“Absolutely, Mr. President.” Adler grinned. He too had been with Ryan since the beginning — and his opinion was invaluable, even when Ryan didn’t agree with it, often for that very reason.