Strike Zone. Dale Brown
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we leave Asia,’ said Jed.
‘Of course not,’ said the secretary of state.
‘So this – if it were, say, wrapped up in routine maneuvers, in an exercise that they would be interested in, or that anyone who might have the ghost clone was interested in, I would think that would work.’
Jed glanced up and saw that Martindale was looking directly at him. He floundered, turning his eyes back down to the floor before continuing.
‘The, uh, the ASEAN, the ASEAN exercises are set to begin in two days. My thinking was that the Dr-Dreamland plan might fold into that, or we could use the maneuvers as a cover somehow.’
‘The Navy was ordered to take a low profile. We’ve only allocated a frigate.’ Balboa cleared his throat, obviously warming to the idea. While as the head of the JCS, Balboa was technically in charge of all the services, rare was the operation he didn’t believe should be spearheaded by the Navy. ‘We could get some assets there, a carrier, have some patrol craft. Yes. A P-3 in an Elint role, and we have two Vikings that have just been overhauled precisely for this sort of mission.’
‘Why don’t we just send the fleet?’ said Chastain.
‘We could do that,’ said Balboa, somehow missing the sarcasm in the defense secretary’s voice.
‘Jed?’ prompted the President.
‘I did some checking and, um, there was originally a request for B-52s in the exercises,’ Jed told them. ‘So we could grant it and, uh, the Megafortresses could go in their place.’
‘There is a bit of an issue with the Dreamland people,’ said Balboa. ‘Some folks feel Colonel Bastian and his people are cowboys who need to be reined in.’
‘That’s not fair,’ snapped Jed.
Balboa turned and stared at him. Jed realized that his dislike of Dreamland, born from a general prejudice against anything connected with the Air Force, had been fanned into a virulent hatred because of the Piranha affair. While the Navy had played an important role in preventing war, the Dreamland people were the ones actually taking the bullets, and for some reason that bugged him.
‘I didn’t say it was fair, young man. I’m just saying it’s the view.’ Balboa shifted in his seat, turning back toward the President. ‘We still haven’t reached a decision on where the command should be located. Technically, Colonel Bastian doesn’t answer to anyone at the moment. Except, of course, to the commander-in-chief.’
‘I haven’t reached a decision,’ said the President.
He smiled, as if apologizing for telling a fib. Jed knew that the ambiguous situation served Martindale very well and was therefore likely to continue indefinitely. Under the present arrangement, Dreamland’s Whiplash special operations team, its cutting-edge aircraft, and all its whizbang weapons answered directly to the President, with only one NSC staffer in between – Jed. All military personnel ultimately answered to the President as commander-in-chief, of course, but the chain of command could be tortuous. As things presently stood, Martindale could use the Dreamland people as his own attack squadron, sending them to hot spots around the globe with a direct phone call.
‘This plan calls for them to be based in the Philippines again,’ said Hartman, changing the subject. ‘The government there is still upset over the handling of the guerrillas we encountered. We need an alternative base.’
‘The, uh, uh –’ Jed wanted to protest about the alleged guerrillas, who had turned out to be simply displaced villagers, but his tongue tripped and he couldn’t get it out. The Dreamland people had insisted on protecting them until their identities could be proven; they were catching grief for doing the right thing.
‘All right,’ said the President. ‘Where else? Taiwan?’
‘Not Taiwan,’ said Hartman. ‘Far too provocative. What about Brunei?’
‘Brunei?’ asked Chastain.
‘The sultan is looking for signs of friendship and pushing for access to more weapons,’ said the secretary of state. ‘This might be a good gesture.’
Jed started to object. ‘It’s f-far from –’
‘It is far from China,’ said the President. ‘But according to the CIA, China may not be the country operating the clone at all. Besides, I’d like to show our friend the sultan that we value his alliance.’
The President’s tone suggested that the meeting had come to an end. He glanced around the room, then looked back at Jed.
‘Jed, set this up. I want Dreamland deployed as part of the ASEAN exercises – give it a cloak of respectability.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Barclay
‘We’ll supply a liaison,’ said the secretary of state. ‘There are important protocols. The sultan has to be handled with a certain amount of –’
The secretary stopped, glancing at Balboa. Jed realized that he was going to say ‘tact,’ then realized that might imply that Colonel Bastian had none.
Obviously, he didn’t want to give Balboa the satisfaction.
‘Protocol,’ he said instead.
‘Fine,’ said the President, rising to end the meeting.
Dreamland Personnel Building Two 1805
Dog decided to swing around to Jennifer’s apartment on his way back to Taj. He hadn’t seen much of her since getting back from Hawaii, and felt guilty about it; while he’d been in Honolulu he’d learned that his ex-wife was planning on moving to Las Vegas. He knew he had to tell Jennifer about it, let her know that however awkward it might be, it was only that – awkward. Dog didn’t hate his ex-wife. The truth was he had never really hated her, even when she asked for a divorce. Whether he’d ever loved her or not – well, that was a question best contemplated over a very long set of drinks.
He did love Jennifer. He was sure of that.
Dog jogged down the short set of steps to the hallway leading to the apartments, which spread out right and left. As he started down the hallway, he saw two members of his Whiplash team standing guard in front of Jennifer’s door, Sergeant Liu and Sergeant Bison.
‘What’s the story here?’ the colonel asked.
‘We’re under orders not to let anyone in or out,’ said Liu.
‘Whose orders?’ asked Dog.
‘Colonel Cortend,’ said Liu.
‘Since when do you take orders from Cortend?’ Dog asked him.
‘Sir, Captain Freah told us to stand guard here. The colonel – Colonel Cortend is sending over a detail to inspect the quarters, and it’s to be secured until then.’
‘What?’ said Dog. ‘What the hell is going on here, Sergeant?’
‘Sir, Captain Freah didn’t explain.’
The sergeant wasn’t being disrespectful, but it was clear from his demeanor that he wasn’t going to yield.
‘Is Ms. Gleason inside?’ Dog asked.
‘No, sir.’
Dog controlled his anger – though just barely. ‘Do you know where she is?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Carry on, Sergeant,’ he said, turning on his heel. He walked back to the entrance of the building, resisting the temptation – again just barely – to grab a radio from one of the security detail and radio Freah. He walked outside and started toward Taj when he saw two black SUVs approaching with their blue lights flashing. Danny was in the lead truck – sitting behind Cortend.
‘Captain