THE MAN HOLDING the laser pointer was a short, barrel-chested admiral called Pete Pressler, head of the US Africa Command. In front of him in the White House Situation Room sat the president, the most senior members of the administration, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and a dozen other military officers and presidential aides.
The red dot of the pointer moved across a map and stopped on a town called Lodwar in northern Kenya.
‘That’s the closest we can get to the Uganda border with a runway with the spec we need,’ said Pressler. ‘Gives us coverage of southern Sudan and northwest Congo if we need it as well. We’ll pilot the drones out of Creech air force base in Nevada. Operations will be coordinated from the Abraham Lincoln, which will be my command post.’
‘Offshore?’
‘Exactly, Mr President. Off the Kenyan coast. We’ll have the entire carrier strike group in theater. We’ll refuel Lodwar by air. The storage capacity they have on the ground isn’t worth jack so we’ll put tanks in first thing. Operationally, our primary weapon will be unmanned aircraft. Other than that, we’ll use Apaches or F-35s if we think they’re needed, special forces if we’ve got a high value target and we decide we want to take him alive or can’t get to him any other way. Otherwise, it’ll be air power.’
The president stretched out in his chair and locked his hands behind his head. ‘How does this work with the drones? It’s jungle up there, right?’
Pressler nodded. ‘Infrared, Mr President. Goes right through the tree canopy. We’ll blanket the place with unmanned vehicles. Day, night. Anything moves in there, in the open, under the trees, we’ll pick it up.’
‘What if it’s an animal?’ asked Gary Rose, the national security advisor.
‘It’s the patterns we’ll be looking for. The numbers involved, the way the groups move. If we have a single individual and we pick him up on infrared, we’re not going to go after that. Could be anything, and if it’s a fighter, well, this time he gets away. But when you start to see a group moving in the pattern that human groups move, then you know you’re dealing with something.’
‘What if they’re gorillas?’ asked Roberta Devlin, Knowles’ chief of staff. She was a small, intense woman with probing blue-green eyes. ‘Don’t they move in groups?’
‘I believe they do have gorillas in that area, ma’am.’
‘If we blow the hell out of a clan of gorillas we’ll take more flak than if we massacred a whole town of Afghans.’
‘I don’t believe the US military ever massacred a town of Afghans,’ said Mortlock Hale, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He had held a number of commands in Afghanistan and didn’t appreciate the insinuation.
‘We can live with some dead gorillas,’ said the president. ‘Admiral, this doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a very thorough process.’
‘It’s not an invasion, Mr President. We’re not aiming to conquer this territory, only to cleanse it.’
‘Mr President, if I may,’ said General Hale. ‘Insurgencies normally depend on support from the local population. Not this one. The population dreads them and they run a mile if they know they’re coming. Normal counter-insurgency strategy, which is about choking off support from the local population, isn’t what we need. We’re going to beat these guys with a two-pronged strategy: Interdict and Attrit. By using the air power Admiral Pressler has described, we interdict the enemy’s routes out of the jungle to replenish their supplies and their escape routes out of Uganda into Sudan and Congo. Meanwhile, as they’re bottled up, we pick them off – that’s the attrition – and destroy whatever supplies they’ve got, which further reduces their ability to survive. At a certain point we’ll see them trying to break out through our interdiction. We’ll encourage defection by dropping leaflets and other communication modalities to show them they’ve got no chance of outlasting us. Hopefully that’ll help detach the weakly committed and get them out of the jungle. The fanatics, we’re going to have to kill.’
The president glanced at Gary Rose.
‘Sounds about as clean as you can do it,’ said the national security advisor.
‘John?’ said the president to the defense secretary.
‘I’m good with this. It’s a solid plan that makes the best of our capabilities.’ John Oakley was a bear of a man, an ex-undersecretary of the army in the second Bush administration. Tom Knowles had known him all the way back when they were together at law school and highly respected him. Oakley was a strong advocate of unmanned force and had steered the defense budget into a massive expansion of unmanned technology. Uganda was an opportunity to prove the worth of his strategy in a topography unlike Afghanistan or Georgia.
‘What if some of these guys manage to break out, say, to Sudan?’ asked Devlin.
Oakley shrugged. ‘You mean if we’re in hot pursuit? We go after them. If we land a few bombs in southern Sudan, what are they going to do?’
‘The UN resolution only refers to Uganda,’ said the secretary of state, Bob Livingstone.
Oakley shrugged again.
‘There are Chinese military in Sudan.’
‘Not that they admit to. Anyway, like I said, what are they going to do? Shoot down a couple of drones. Who cares?’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Livingstone. ‘Are you saying this is all going to be done with unmanned vehicles? Do we really believe that’s how it’s going to work?’
The president glanced at the military men.
‘We think it’s feasible,’ said Pressler. ‘Seventeen years in Afghanistan has taught us a hell of a lot about use of unmanned weaponry.’
‘Not enough to get us out of there.’
‘I’m not saying that’s all we’ll use. As I mentioned, when there is a need, we’ll project manned air power. I’ll have plenty of that in theater.’
‘Mr President,’ said the secretary of state, ‘the plan that General Hale and Admiral Pressler are presenting is, if I understand it, a plan for the United States acting alone. Have we made that decision?’
‘Mr Secretary,’ said Hale, ‘there are no other potential partners who have anywhere near our depth of experience in the use of unmanned attack vehicles, with the possible exception of the Israelis, and their experience is largely limited to urban environments. And of course this is a judgment for the president, but I don’t think we would want the Israelis involved here.’
‘We can do this ourselves,’ said Oakley.
‘I know we can, but–’
‘We’re going to learn a lot from this. We’re going to extend our experience with unmanned vehicles into a whole new type of terrain. That alone would make the operation worthwhile.’
‘So you can guarantee me with this plan of yours there won’t be any casualties,’ said the president.
‘There’ll be a hell of a lot of LRA casualties,’ replied Pressler.
The president smiled. ‘But our guys?’
Pressler was serious now. ‘No one can guarantee there won’t be any, sir. But I can guarantee you that the risk is low, the total number of Americans in harm’s way is small, enemy arms are very unsophisticated, and whatever we can do with unmanned vehicles, we’ll do. This is about the lowest risk operation I’ve ever had the privilege of planning. I don’t aim on losing anybody.’
‘How long before you can be on the ground?’
‘We have a liaison team ready to go into Nairobi as soon as they get the word. We can do the setup in Lodwar in a couple of weeks as long as the Kenyans cooperate. By that time the Lincoln strike group will be in theater and we’re ready to roll.’
‘Two weeks?’
Pressler nodded.
‘How long before you get results?’ asked one of the other men in the room. Ed Abrahams was the president’s senior political advisor and strategist, a corpulent fifty-three-year-old Californian who had been memorably described as having the brain of Einstein in the body of Moby Dick.
‘We’ll start to gather information immediately.’
‘Body count, Admiral,’ said the president. ‘I think you’ll find that’s what Ed means.’
‘It’s hard to say. As soon as we can. We find a group, we’ll take them out.’
‘Within weeks?’
‘Definitely. I would hope so.’
Abrahams glanced at the president. His place in these meetings was more to listen than to speak, but Knowles always understood the point when he did intervene. There was nothing Ed Abrahams saw, heard or read that he didn’t put through a political filter. The congressional midterm elections were on November 6, eight weeks away. Thirty-three Senate seats were up for grabs, of which four were potentially winnable by Republican candidates. Any two of those seats would give the Republicans sixty votes in the Senate, making the president’s program pretty much unstoppable. A strong performance in the midterms would also go a long way to guaranteeing his unopposed renomination in two years’ time.
Abrahams and the president had discussed the Uganda intervention exhaustively over the previous few days. Politically, at one level, it was a risk. Tom Knowles had had a good first two years in office, the economy was continuing to grow, and he looked set to achieve the gains he needed in Congress on that record alone. If they launched this operation and something went wrong, that could only be jeopardized. In that respect, they would be better waiting until after the midterm elections. On the other hand, launching the operation would boost his immediate popularity, and a few notable successes in the field before the elections would make him even more popular. And waiting until after the elections, after it had taken so long to get to this point, might make him look as if he was vacillating and give ammunition to his critics. The Republican right was always ready to take shots at him, midterms or no midterms, and the Democrats, who would normally be in favor of deliberation, would turn instantly into ardent supporters of action if that meant they could paint him as a procrastinator. Besides, he wanted to get going. The pressure to unleash a response suited him down to the ground.
‘So you can do this in a risk-free way,’ said Abrahams.
‘Sir, nothing’s totally risk-free,’ replied Pressler.
‘Ah, I think what we can say,’ said General Hale, ‘is that for the first period we can restrict ourselves pretty much entirely to unmanned sorties. Do you agree, Admiral Pressler?’
Pressler looked at him blankly. He was a field commander and lacked the political antennae that Hale had developed in Washington. ‘That’s the aim, but as the commander in theater I would–’
‘Of course,’ said Hale. ‘But I think we could agree that for any non-emergent intervention requiring manned force, presidential approval would be required. I think that could be one of the rules of engagement, at least in the first period.’
‘That sounds very sensible, General,’ said Abrahams.
Hale gazed meaningfully at Pressler. The admiral may have lacked political antennae, but he knew enough to understand what that look meant. He kept quiet.
‘You got a name for this operation, Admiral?’ asked Walt Stephenson, the vice-president.
Pressler turned to him. ‘Not yet.’
‘We need a good name. That’s half the battle.’
Oakley grinned. ‘We’ve got a few ideas.’
‘Okay, this is sounding pretty good,’ said the president. ‘Roberta, are we looking okay in Congress?’
Knowles’ chief of staff nodded. Congress would be voting to authorize the intervention in the next couple of days. The numbers handily gave them the vote. There was strong support in the country and most members of Congress, so close to an election, weren’t about to oppose it.
‘Good. Admiral Pressler, I understand I’m going to see more detailed plans in the next few days.’
‘Yes, sir. My staff–’
‘Mr President,’ said the secretary of state, ‘I do want to come back to the question of whether we do this alone.’
‘I thought we just agreed we would,’ said Oakley. ‘What are the Brits going to do? Give us a communications unit? Great, we could really use one.’
The president smiled. ‘John, let Bob have his say. Bob, what is it?’
‘We need to do this as a coalition,’ said Livingstone.
He paused, glancing at Gary Rose. The national security advisor, a man of medium height with short dark hair and an elongated nose, was watching him, head tilted slightly, arms folded. Livingstone knew that Rose was a lot closer to the president than he was. It was an open secret that Rose had wanted to be secretary of state and Knowles had originally considered giving him the position, but decided that he needed to use the appointment to build support for the administration amongst right-leaning Democrats. Knowles had even privately mooted nominating a Democrat for the post until a strong backlash from the Republican congressional leadership persuaded him to shut that option down. Senator Bob Livingstone, an affable, chubby Missourian in his late sixties with silky white hair, was the next best choice. A longserving member of the Foreign Affairs Committee, he was about the most moderate Republican in the Senate, someone a person like Mitch Moynihan would hardly recognize as belonging to the same party. Livingstone accepted the nomination in the expectation that he would be the president’s lead source of foreign policy. But the reality had turned out somewhat differently. Livingstone soon realized that the president had appointed him for political reasons and had appointed Rose because he actually wanted his advice. The secretary of state hadn’t proven strong enough to overcome the president’s reliance on the other man. Anything he sent to the president was passed directly to the national security advisor to be read.
Livingstone looked back at the president. ‘We got the vote in the Security Council, but there’s a lot of resistance. China’s losing face. They’re heavily involved in Sudan and across the entire Central African region, and now we’re coming in there to do this thing and one way of reading it is that implicitly we’re saying, you should have done this yourselves, you could have offered to do it, and now we’re going to come and do it for you.’
‘And what was to stop them?’ demanded Oakley.
‘The Ugandans don’t want Chinese forces on their territory. They don’t want them within a million miles.’
‘And maybe they’ve got good reason. Mr President, we have thirty-nine dead Americans and that’s thirty-nine good reasons for us to go in there and beat the hell out of whoever did it, UN resolution or no resolution. Well, we’ve got a resolution. That’s great. Thanks, Bob. I don’t see why we need anyone’s help.’
‘Because we need help on other things,’ said Livingstone. Diplomatic considerations, he knew, were like water off a duck’s back to John Oakley. ‘The Arctic treaty, the situation in South Africa. Carbon emissions, as always. You name it. There’s a thousand things and you can’t just rule them out of the picture. If we’re going to show leadership on those things we’re going to need support.’
‘Maybe we do better on those things if we show strong leadership on something else first,’ said Gary Rose.
‘Like this?’
‘Yes. Like this. If you ask me, Bob, this is the perfect way to do it.’
Livingstone guessed that the president and Gary Rose had had extensive discussions about the message this intervention would send to the rest of the world. The president hadn’t discussed it with him at all.
‘I’m not sure what we’re going to look like messing around for two months while we try to line up a coalition,’ added Ed Abrahams pointedly.
The president glanced at him, then turned back to Livingstone.
‘Bob,’ he said, ‘I want us to go out and do this thing because it’s a good thing and we should do it. The United States should lead on this. The LRA is an evil in our world and they’ve been given many opportunities to lay down their arms and they haven’t done that. And now they’ve killed a bunch of Americans and the time has come for them to feel our wrath, the anger and power of the civilized world. I don’t see any person who could possibly create an argument against us doing this.’
‘I’m not disputing that,’ said Livingstone. ‘But there are different ways we can do this. We can reach out and try to create a coalition, even reach out to China and Russia–’
Oakley snorted.
‘Even reach out to them,’ persisted Livingstone, ‘and see if they’ll join us. If you go back a little, remember, Russia joined us in Kosovo.’
‘Yeah,’ said Oakley, ‘and do you remember the race for Pristina?’
‘Sounds like it’ll take for fucking ever,’ muttered the vice-president.
‘It will take a little time,’ said Livingstone, ‘that’s true. But I think–’
‘The eighty-odd per cent of Americans who want us to do this don’t want to see us fucking around for six months trying to get two Brits and an Aussie to come join us,’ said Stephenson. ‘They want to see Uncle Sam go in there and get the job done!’
Knowles smiled. He had brought Walt Stephenson, a Florida senator, onto the ticket for his ability to deliver Florida’s electoral college votes. Not for his tact.
‘I understand that,’ said Livingstone, ‘but I do think that–’
‘And we’re not looking for hundreds of thousands of troops, right?’ Stephenson looked at Hale. ‘This is, what, a couple of thousand?’
‘Somewhat more, sir, with the naval contingent.’
‘One carrier strike force.’ Stephenson threw a glance at the president and shrugged dismissively.
‘Nonetheless,’ said Livingstone, still trying to get the point across, ‘if we want to maximize this opportunity, we should take the extra time, build the coalition, and try to keep our relationships good for all the other reasons that we need them.’
‘The alternative view, Bob,’ said Gary Rose, ‘is that bold action, decisive action, does a lot to return us to the leadership position which, frankly, we’ve largely lost over the past few years. It shows the United States doing what it should do, setting out good, solid principles and leading the world in enforcing them. I’d rather see us do the other things from that position.’
‘I think we’re showing that leadership by what we’ve already done in getting the Security Council resolution,’ said Livingstone.
‘And I think you’ll squander it by what you’re suggesting,’ retorted Oakley.
‘Mr President,’ said General Hale, ‘it’s not my role to offer political advice, but in military terms, we can do this much cleaner and quicker if we do it ourselves.’
Livingstone looked at Hale in irritation. They could do it with others if they had to.
There was silence.
The president thought for a moment. ‘I think we can show strength in a coalition, even in this situation. Gary, I do think the United States can show leadership in that context. I don’t think that’s a door we should close right now. Bob, I think you should go out there and try to build a coalition for us. And in the meantime, Admiral Pressler, you should continue to develop the plan in case we have to go it alone. Let’s start talking to whoever we have to talk to in Nairobi.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said the admiral.
There was silence again. Bob Livingstone looked around. Everyone in the room was watching him. He felt like a guy who’d just volunteered to go way, way out on a limb.
‘Mr President, if I’m going to build a coalition, how long have I got?’
The president frowned. ‘I don’t know, Bob. Let’s see how it goes.’