Red Hammer 1994

Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not crap, John. You still think we can win this thing. The president’s trying to end it on the best terms possible. If we’d pushed forward like you wanted, we’d have shot our wad for nothing, and the Russians would still have their mobiles. The president was right. He’s still right.”

Thomas was thoroughly disgusted. He pushed his chair back and stood. He had tried his best to walk the tightrope between service to the president and sensitivity to the military commanders. “Your boys are exhausted, and you can’t risk losing any more planes. We need to end this now. The country’s crippled, bleeding and broken.” His face hardened as he fell into silence. No one met the challenge.

“Sit down, Bob,” ordered Hargesty, unimpressed. He was still officially the senior officer in the US military.

Don’t alienate the generals, Thomas warned himself. You need their support. He was no good to the president by pissing-off everyone in uniform. He plopped down sourly. He still admired Hargesty’s judgment but was leaning more toward the president and his inner circle. The military men seemed oblivious to the wrenching task of reconstruction. The civilians, on the other hand, tended to stick their heads in the sand concerning military matters, but overall, they erred on the side of national survival. His role as the president’s military advisor had created a very real barrier between him and his service peers. They didn’t quite trust him anymore.

After Thomas’s retort, McClain searched for a graceful exit. “Fine, you were right about not committing to a massive strike on day two; I’ll grant you that. But we can’t stop fighting because you’re grasping at straws.”

Thomas shifted from anger to frustration. “We’ve covered this before. We’re not fools. Nobody seriously thinks the fighting will completely end, but we have got to stop lobbing nukes at each other. Another two or three days, and there won’t be anybody to negotiate with—on either side.”

Hargesty’s role was to play devil’s advocate, flushing out the arguments. It was tough to tell whose side he was on. “What do you propose, Bob, ignore the mobiles, focus on a cease-fire?

“I’ve talked to the president, and he understands the significance of the SS-25s. But he wants to regroup. We need a breather. Then push militarily if diplomatic efforts collapse.”

Hargesty had a sour look. He was getting sick of Thomas referring to personal talks with the president. “He’s said the same to me,” said Hargesty testily, “but I don’t agree. We can’t let up the pressure. Not now.”

“There’s another way,” offered Thomas. “We can go after the mobiles with special operations forces. SOF is the only hope of finding the 25s. Root them out one by one”

“It’s a suicide mission,” scoffed an army general. His Army Special Forces Groups would bear the brunt. It was listed as one of their assigned missions in OPLANs, but no one had ever taken it seriously. The logistics were overwhelming, and most in the community considered it a one-way mission. The actual scenario called for such action before a nuclear exchange, not after. “You’re just going to drop them in and walk away?” he added.

Thomas was piqued by the comment. “That’s right. Air-refueled MC-130s and MH-53s can carry teams and their vehicles out of England and Germany. Teams are staged as we speak. The Europeans have been reluctant to let us use any of our conventional forces, but they’ve agreed to let SOF slip by. As to the suicide comment, with millions already dead, I hardly think that rates an answer. That’s their job. They’ll go where they’re ordered.”

“Of course they will,” said the general, “I was just saying that we would be wasting valuable forces. We may need them later, for something else.”

“There’s no higher priority mission,” said Hargesty. Thomas was pleasantly surprised by the intervention. “OK, Bob, we get them in, and then what?”

Thomas leaned forward slowly and folded his hands on the table. He considered sending in SOF the last resort. The army general was right—they didn’t have a chance.

“Two possible tactics. The first is direct action, DA. The teams would haul in their own standoff weapons. Problem is the SS-25s deploy with company-level security and plenty of decoys. A small team in Humvees armed with TOWs or AT-4 rockets would be outgunned.” Thomas paused and looked around for a map. An aide scrambled, anticipating an order. He figured the captain knew what he wanted and turned back to the others.

“Another option would be for the teams to locate, identify, and designate the targets for air strikes.”

“Are you talking about orbiting bombers?” asked McClain. “It would never work. I don’t have the aircraft for that. You even said so yourself.”