Vortex

“Excuse me, gentlemen. Back in a moment.” He left the wardroom for his own sea cabin. As he stepped into the passageway, his chief of staff,

Gen. George Skiles, intercepted him.

Skiles was an Army brigadier general, part of the “joint,” all-service staff Craig had inherited as part of his new post. A good administrator, he’d taken a lot of the paperwork load off Craig’s shoulders.

“Well?”

“I just got off the secure phone with the State Department. They say that they have almost no information on the “Independent Cape Government,” and that they have every confidence in your judgment. “

Nuts. Twentyfive years of micromanagement and the one time he needed them, the Foggy Bottom boys left him alone. He shook his head. Two things were certain. They’d show up again as soon as he worked out an acceptable deal. And if he screwed up, he’d hang alone.

“All right.” Craig walked down the passageway and entered his cabin. He thought for a few minutes, washed his face, took a deep breath, and summoned Skiles.

“Get Taylor out of the wardroom, by himself, and bring him up to the bridge wing. “

“Fraser won’t like you talking to him alone.”

Craig frowned.

“I don’t care. Tell Taylor he’s got a message from his wife. Think of something. Keep the good deputy governor busy. I won’t be long.”

Skiles nodded and left.

Craig climbed the two decks up to the bridge wing and waited, but not for long. Metallic footsteps clattering up the ladder preceded Taylor. The

South African joined him at the railing, his uniform tunic fluttering in the wind.

Taylor’s tone was stiffly formal.

“I came because you requested it, sir, but I will not negotiate with you separately. Mr. Fraser is our sole voice in these matters.”

Craig nodded quietly.

“I understand, Brigadier.”

“And even if I were to come to some sort of separate agreement, I would not have the power to impose it on the civilian authorities.”

“Is that true, Brigadier?” Craig asked.

“After all, you control Cape

Town’s military forces.”

“I will not use those forces to interfere with civil authority again.

“

Taylor’s tone softened.

“I am sure we share a certain dislike for politicians “-he smiled—but they hold the reins, and any other way leads to chaos.”

Craig matched his smile.

“I agree. But I asked you up here because I want you to understand my situation. To

give you information that only a military man can appreciate. “

Taylor arched an eyebrow.

Craig spoke carefully, picking his way through a verbal minefield. He wanted this man as an ally-not pointing a rifle from the other side of the beach.

“I have at my disposal an immense force-more than a division of embarked Marines, air, and artillery. At least two more divisions are at airfields in the States waiting for word that D. F. Malan airport is open. Those men can begin arriving within twenty-four hours of the time

I give that word.”

Taylor nodded. America’s rapid deployment capabilities were widely known.

“You also know we’re on a timetable-a tight one. And that timetable was drawn up in response to allied needs, not the needs of the “Independent

Cape Province’ or the rest of South Africa. We’re burning precious time right now.”

Again Taylor nodded. The Cubans were already hundreds of kilometers inside the Transvaal region. Unless Craig and his men got ashore soon,

Castro’s two remaining armored columns would reach Pretoria,

Johannesburg, and the Witwatersrand minerals complex well ahead of them.

Craig paused. Now for the hard part.

“I’ll be blunt, Brigadier. You know the strengths and abilities of your forces, and you’ve seen some of our capabilities. Now, I want your forces working with us, but if we can’t reach agreement soon, I’ll land my troops without your approval and proceed on my own. “

“We would have to fight you.”

“Yes. And you and I would both lose men. And time, which would cost more lives, later on. And I’d win.”

Taylor nodded, not bothering to hide the truth. His forces, short on everything except confusion, could not stop the Americans. He could slow them down, inflict casualties, and bog them down in house-to-house fighting-but to what end?

Cape Town had always been a beautiful city. He hated the holdouts on

Table Mountain for what they were doing to the city and its people. That would be nothing compared to a full-scale invasion. Unbidden, pictures of the damage the Wisconsin’s shells could cause flashed into his mind.

Craig had been leaning on the rail. He turned now to face Taylor, and he moved half a step toward the younger man.

“The only reason I’ve put up with Fraser’s bullshit this long is because I want to avoid bloodshed between people who should be friends. But I can’t stall out here forever.

We’re getting close to the point where lost time means more than lost lives.”

Taylor stared back at him, his face held rigid.

“All I need is the airfield. I don’t care what shape the rest of the town is in.” Craig paused.