FOUR DAYS AFTER the initial report of the two US airmen being moved to Sudan, there was now near certainty that the men were there. The CIA had a sighting from a reliable source to add to the first source of information. Monitoring of Sudanese security communications had uncovered electronic traffic that, beneath the thin veil of a few childish code names, almost certainly referred to the Apache pilots.
There had been no statement from the Chinese government. A week had passed since Susan Opitz spoke with Finance Minister Bai.
The markets had paused, ready to jump but not sure in which direction. One day saw small rises and claims that the worst was over, the next day would see the rises reversed and claims that the worst was yet to come. Interbank lending activity was still virtually nonexistent as uncertainty continued over the viability of individual banks whose stock prices bounced around as one rumor replaced another. The Fed continued to provide liquidity, which was keeping the system afloat. Market analysts and media commentators seemed to be expecting something to come out of China, although no one knew that Opitz had made an approach. It was a temporary position. The logic of the panic was still there, if not the urgency. Until there was some clarification of how Fidelian had been allowed to fail two weeks previously, the logic would remain.
The National Security Council convened at 1pm. Opitz told the group that in her view there was potential for another significant fall across the markets, and it wouldn’t take much. In circumstances such as these, even an event that at first sight looked trivial could act as a trigger.
Gary Rose spoke briefly to inform the members of the council that the two surviving airmen, Captains Pete Dewy and Phil Montez, were believed to have been in Sudan for the past four days.
Bob Livingstone looked at the president in incredulity. Four days? Four days and he hadn’t been told? He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He was aware of the way other people at the table were looking at him, the way you look at the chump who’s the last guy to find out what everyone already knows.
He hoped the president realized that balancing his demand for a Chinese statement on Fidelian with his agreement to give US support for a resolution on South Africa had just got a whole lot more complicated.
In Uganda itself, Mortlock Hale reported, an intense onslaught of drone attacks had accounted for up to an estimated hundred enemy casualties since the attack in which Jack Duffey and Harley Gauss had died. That assault seemed to have scattered a large number of LRA fighters and some had turned up in areas of lighter cover where drones could operate more effectively.
‘What about Gauss?’ demanded the president. ‘Did we find his body?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Any idea where it is?’
‘We won’t find it until we capture some of their guys and get the chance to question them. At the moment, given that we’re restricting ourselves to unmanned vehicles, that’s unlikely to happen.’
‘We’ve got to get that body,’ muttered the president.
‘Frankly, Mr President, by now I don’t know what will be left of it.’
‘We’ve got to get it, General. You tell that to Pressler.’
Hale nodded. He outlined what was known about the current location of the two missing airmen. Defense intelligence had them in the southern third of Sudan, with the last reliable sighting outside the town of Rumbek, two hundred miles from the Ugandan border. The area was under constant satellite surveillance. As long as the men were still in that southern region, they could be reached by American forces operating out of their Kenyan base at Lodwar.
‘Who will we be fighting?’ asked Gary Rose. ‘LRA or Sudanese?’
‘Could be either. Could be both.’
‘We should also be aware that China has military advisors in the country,’ said Ryan Ferris, the director of national intelligence. China took almost all Sudan’s oil and it was a widely known fact in the intelligence community that, without admitting it, China had significant numbers of military advisors helping the regime maintain itself against long-running insurgencies in the west and south.
‘Advisors or troops?’ said Livingstone.
‘It’s a fine line, Mr Secretary. If you’re asking whether the Chinese in there can strap on a gun, the answer’s yes. We think Dewy and Montez have probably been handed over to the Sudanese, although at this point we can’t definitively say. The question is somewhat moot, anyway. We know the Sudan government knows about them from our electronic surveillance. If the LRA’s still got them, it’s because at this stage it suits the Sudanese to let them keep them.’
‘So we’re planning on going in if we think we can get them?’ said Opitz.
‘You bet,’ said Oakley. ‘They hold our guys, we go in.’ He threw a glance in Bob Livingstone’s direction. ‘They don’t need a UN resolution to know that.’
‘I think we’ll locate them,’ said Ferris. ‘Sudan isn’t Beirut.’
‘If they’ve handed them over to the Sudanese,’ said Livingstone, ‘what are they getting for them?’
‘Guns. Possibly more sophisticated weapons. They’re probably looking for ground to air capability.’
‘And the Sudan government?’ said the president. ‘Why the hell do they want in to this?’
Rose answered. ‘We have half their government still under indictment for crimes against humanity. We have a supposed no-fly zone over Darfur that’s been in a place for a decade. We have sanctions against any kind of financial dealings with their regime and it’s basically only China and its friends who deal with them.’
‘And they think we’re going to drop our sanctions over two hostages?’
‘They might. They might just be dumb enough to believe that.’
‘Jesus, let’s hope not.’
‘Mr President,’ said Bob Livingstone, ‘in the event that we don’t find Dewy and Montez, someone’s going to have to put pressure on the Sudan government.’ He hated to say it, but someone had to. It was as if he had been assigned the role of party-pooper in chief and was condemned to play it at one meeting after the other. ‘We all know who that’s going to have to be. Something’s going to have to give.’
The president gazed at him for a moment. ‘What do you suggest?’
Livingstone explained that by persuading the British to hold off on their resolution, or at least not backing it, they would appear to be giving something to the Chinese, which might persuade them to be helpful over Fidelian and over the men in Sudan.
‘That’s like paying a kidnapper,’ said Oakley.
‘It’s not. It gives us time to help strengthen a coalition within the ANC against the Chinese arrangement. It works in our favor even though it looks like it works in theirs.’
‘Exactly. It looks like it works in theirs.’
‘That’s not the reality.’
‘Reality is we go in and get our guys ourselves.’
‘Reality is,’ said Livingstone, feeling his heart pounding with anger, ‘that’s all very well but the reality is that General Hale here doesn’t actually know where they are, or am I mistaken, General? No. So if that stays the same, we’re going to need China’s help to get them out. John, you can shake your head as much as you like but that’s how it is. And we still want them to give a statement about Fidelian, and you’re saying we still want them to support a sanctions threat over South Africa. Plus a whole bunch of other things that are coming up in the next year over the Arctic, climate change, you name it. Just think about how much we want from them.’
‘We’ll get our guys,’ said Oakley. ‘Ask me to trust the US army or Zhang and his cronies in Beijing, and I know who I’d trust.’
Livingstone almost thumped the table. What kind of an argument was that?
‘Bob,’ said the president, ‘you can go ahead and talk to these elements in the ANC who you say are on our side.’
‘And the resolution?’
‘That’s separate. If the Brits bring it, we back it.’
‘Then we need to ask them not to bring it.’
‘The British prime minister’s spoken to me. He needs to bring it and I’ve said we’ll back him.’
‘And that’s exactly what China wants us to do. It plays into their hands. They’ll veto it and all we’ll achieve is to undermine the people we want to strengthen in South Africa. It strengthens Mthwesa and drives him into China’s arms.’
‘I’ve said we’ll back it.’ The president’s tone was curt. ‘I can’t tell Zhang I’m not going to back democracy in South Africa to get our two guys back. That’s the deal you’re proposing.’
‘With respect, sir, it’s not. What I’m saying is we’re actually more likely to get democracy in South Africa if we don’t have a resolution. Let’s give the Chinese the time they think they want, and we’ll use that ourselves for our own purposes.’
‘Well, I’m sorry but that doesn’t work because it would look like a deal. John’s right, it would look like we’re paying a kidnapper. Perception’s the reality. You pay once, you pay again. That’s not the kind of relationship I’m prepared to have with Zhang.’
‘Mr President, that’s not–’
‘Bob, write a paper.’
Oakley grinned.
Livingstone opened his mouth to speak, then stopped, seeing the way the president was watching him. Beneath the table, his hands were shaking. He felt ill, almost nauseated. Marion Ellman’s words at the end of their last conversation had stung him and he had pushed harder in this meeting than he generally did. He loosened the knot of his tie, feeling clammy and breathless. He wasn’t a confrontational man and going head to head with John Oakley was something he dreaded. And even having done it, he felt that he had been ineffectual.
The president was speaking again. ‘I’m assuming at this stage we keep it quiet about our guys being in Sudan.’
Hale nodded.
‘Sudan needs to know that we know they’ve got our people and we expect them back,’ said Oakley. ‘We need to tell those bastards we’ll go in and take our guys if they don’t give them back right now.’
‘Bob, you want to make sure they get that message?’
Livingstone looked up and nodded.
‘I’ll give you a draft,’ said Rose.
‘General,’ said the president, ‘Admiral Pressler is ready to move, I assume?’
‘We can go at a moment’s notice. As soon as we have a location, it’ll be your call.’
The president nodded. Thanksgiving was three days away. He wondered if there was a chance the two pilots would be back.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s do that. Now, the other thing I want to know is, what’s going on with Zhang? Anyone hear anything? Is there going to be a statement or not?’
‘Mr President,’ said Susan Opitz, ‘I understand Congress is going to be calling Bill Custler to testify after Thanksgiving.’
Knowles closed his eyes for a moment. That was great. That was just what they needed.
‘If Custler knows some kind of detail about what was going on in the Chinese government and testifies to that effect, it might make a statement by the Chinese irrelevant anyway.’
‘When’s he being called?’
‘Next Monday.’
Knowles sat back in his chair and let out a long breath. It was possible that Zhang was waiting to see what Custler would say. The Chinese president wouldn’t want to make a statement and then have the CEO of Fidelian contradict him. That would mean another week without a word from the Chinese side.
‘I’ve spoken to Custler once since it happened,’ said Opitz. ‘He refused to divulge anything that went on between him and his board. I believe he does have the right to stay silent on that before the committee. If he chooses not to, if he wants to drop some kind of bombshell, I don’t know what it’s going to be.’
‘Don’t you think we should find out?’
‘Mr President?’ It was the president’s counsel. ‘I think it would be extremely unwise for any official of the administration to approach Mr Custler at this point, now that he’s been called by Congress. From the outside it could easily be construed as an attempt to interfere with his testimony. If the secretary or anyone else chooses to go that route they’d need to have counsel at that meeting and be prepared to provide a verbatim transcript of the conversation.’
The president smiled incredulously.
‘I’m serious, sir.’
‘That sounds pretty strong.’
The lawyer nodded.
The president looked at Opitz. ‘You’ve really got no idea what he’s going to say?’
The Treasury secretary shook her head.